Page 105 of Baxter's Right-Hand Man

His estate was dissolved and proceeds given to charity. He left a sum of money to Enid, bequeathed a book of poetry and his Scrabble game to Pierce, and gave me his home in Carmel and instructions to scatter his ashes under the lemon tree and along the beach—posthaste, as David would be waiting for him.

Pierce and I made the trip to Carmel alone after Mr. Gowan’s service with his ashes in a small wooden box. We scattered half of them under the tree and sat on the bench and played a game of Scrabble in his honor. When the sun set, we went to the beach and scattered the rest.

We held hands and watched as the ashes drifted on the wind to the sea. In a fanciful moment, I’d imagined I saw David’s shadowy figure waiting for his love to join him with his hand outstretched wearing a tux while Mr. G wore his lover’s favorite old red sweater. I’d buried my face in Pierce’s chest and sobbed.

He’d dried my tears and kissed me, then took my hand and led me to the cottage.

Our cottage now. Our second home. Our private space.

Other than adding an alarm system and a gate, we hadn’t done a thing to it…yet. We would eventually.

“Make it pretty, dah-ling. Or sell it and start something new. I want good things for you, Lo. David would have insisted.”

I hadn’t known what to say. Telling Mr. G I didn’t want his cottage would only have agitated him. He trusted us to take care of something he loved. David had made an iron-clad will stating that no member of the Richelieu family would benefit from his estate, or Mr. G probably would have passed it along to Pierce.

Pierce had been relieved. He didn’t need the asset, and he especially didn’t want his greedy brother to lay claim to it. Phil had gone quiet after he’d threatened to sue Mr. G last year. Maybe he knew it was pointless to contest the will, or maybe he was biding his time. It didn’t matter. Pierce was ready for a fight if necessary.

We both were. We were a team now and we were stronger together.

We brought our tomatoes inside, showered, and got ready for an evening of fancy tuxes, bright lights, pushy reporters, and screaming fans.

I’d been to a few star-studded events and met celebrities I never in a million years dreamed I’d rub elbows with, and I had to admit, the crowd’s energy and enthusiasm always took me by surprise. I was sure someone would tap my shoulder and show me to the curb. There was no way I belonged here.

But I did.

I belonged with Pierce.

He reached for my hand in the back seat of the SUV as Raul pulled in front of the El Capitan Theatre. He kissed our joined fingers and smiled. “Have I told you I love you?”

“I love you, too.”

“Gah! That never gets old. Meet you on the sidewalk.” Pierce rounded the SUV, waving to his fans before holding out his elbow for me.

“We should switch sides,” I commented.

“Why?”

“The photographers will get a better shot of you and…from that angle, you’remyright-hand man.”

He chuckled. “I will always be your right-hand man, my sweet Lo. Always.”

We kissed on the red carpet lit by flashing lights and with a few thousand people screaming our names. It was surreal to be part of a crowd and alone in your own world at the same time.

No one could touch this.

Not here, not ever.

We’d agreed from the start to protect what we shared. We’d agreed to be brave and honest and to put us first. We wanted to write our own love story and share the best pieces of us with our loved ones now…and fifty years from now.

Everyday was a gift with this man, right by my side.

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