Page 17 of Just One Look

Maverick

The elation I felt when Jackson sat closer than he ever has to me on the bench quickly dissipated when he produced the to-do list from hell. He may have tried walking it back, but he only pointed out what I knew in the back of my mind but was dreading addressing in the clear light of day. The sanctuary needs a lot more investment. I’d set aside a chunk of money for just that, but the scale of the work required is bigger than I had initially bargained for.

But enough moping.

I drive through the steel-arched gate of the Burlingtons’ impressive estate to pick Sammy up from his playdate. Mrs. Burlington, a recently widowed thirty-three-year-old former New York designer, has earned quite a reputation for the way she climbed the ladder in the cutthroat fashion world, culminating in her marrying the obscenely wealthy—and recently deceased—sixty-eight-year-old owner of the company she oversees from the mansion she now lives in with her four-year-old son.

I’m not judging her.

I know what it’s like to be under scrutiny, and there’s no gossip worse than small-town gossip. Even if it’s true that she’s a gold digger, she’s an adult and can live her life however she pleases. I just find it funny that Wagner is too scared to pick up his own son from her. He made up some bullshit excuse about having to take an important business call. Yeah, right. He’s just scared she’s going to try and dig her nails into him. I finally have some new material to give him shit about.

The stark white stucco mansion, with its asymmetrical fa?ade and cantilevered second floor, is probably the most modern-looking house in the county and stands in sharp contrast to the more traditional gardens that surround it, filled with soft-pink peonies, pale-blue delphiniums, and creamy-white roses.

I ring the doorbell and am swiftly greeted by a butler straight out of Downton Abbey who escorts me to a massive living room.

“Uncle Kick!”

Sammy’s face lights up when he sees me walk in. He drops his LEGO and bolts over to give me a hug.

“Wanna see what we made?”

“Sure, buddy.”

A heavy, feminine scent fills the air. I spin around.

“Ah, Mrs. Burlington. Hi. I’m Maverick Benson. Sammy’s uncle.”

“He’s Uncle Kick,”

Sammy says with a serious head nod.

“I can say Uncle Maverick now, but he likes it when I call him Uncle Kick. Don’t you, Uncle Kick?”

Sammy lifts his face to me, those huge blue eyes blinking innocently, and how can I be mad at him.

“That’s right, kiddo.”

He runs back to Mrs. Burlington’s son, Tanner, and I smile awkwardly at the well-dressed woman. It’s clear she works in fashion, pairing a blush-pink silk top with navy trousers, topped off with a gunmetal pendant and suede loafers.

“Nice to meet you. Please, call me Candice.”

She extends a sleek, well-manicured hand.

“Wagner couldn’t make it?”

“No. He’s in a meeting. I hope Sammy was well-behaved,”

I say, shaking her hand.

“Sammy’s an angel,”

she starts, until she sees the face I pull.

“A slightly devilish angel, but adorable all the same,”

she amends around an airy laugh.

“Would you like to stay for a drink?”

“I’d love to, but I can’t, unfortunately. I need to get back to the rescue center.”

“Ah, yes. I heard you bought Silverstone Sanctuary. How’s it going?”

“Good. It’s a steep learning curve, and there’s a lot to do.”

And a fuckton of money needed to do it all.

“I’m sure there is. You know, my late husband used to be one of their top donors.”

“Really?”

She nods. Her blonde bob doesn’t move.

“If I recall correctly, they discontinued their beneficiary program a few years back.”

“Huh. I didn’t know about that.”

“You’re a brave man taking that place on. It’s almost like it’s been cursed ever since Clancy Ford relinquished ownership.”

What did she just say?

“Clancy Ford?”

“Yeah. Do you know him? Great-looking guy for his age. Any age, really.”

She grins, suggestively brushing her fingers along the side of her neck.

“His family owned the sanctuary. His father passed it down to him when he passed. This is all decades ago, mind you. Clancy made the worst deal in history, selling the sanctuary and all that valuable land in exchange for a tiny patch, which he was forced to turn into a stone-fruit orchard to eke out a living.”

“I had no idea,”

I say, trying to piece together this new information with everything I know about Clancy in my mind.

“Terrible, isn’t it? To be so attractive and yet have no money.”

My eyes snap to her.

“Excuse me?”

Just as I was starting to warm to her and think that maybe her reputation was unwarranted, she drops a doozy like that.

But then she grins.

“I’m kidding. Geez. Don’t believe everything you hear about me, Benson.”

I wince.

“Shit. I’m sorry. That was awful of me. I should know better.”

“It’s fine. I’m used to it by now.”

Sammy is back, tugging on my pant leg, eager to show me what they’ve been working on. I gladly let him lead me by the hand to where he and Tanner have been building their LEGO farm and make an array of suitably impressed noises as he points everything out to me. But I’m stuck on Candice’s bombshell revelation about Clancy owning the rescue center I now own.

Why did he and Jackson hide information from me again? Is that the reason Jackson was less than thrilled when yet another rich outsider purchased something that once belonged to his family?

My mind is reeling.

As soon as I drop off Sammy, I’m going to start digging.

“All right, buddy. Say goodbye to Tanner. We have to go.”

“Okay, Uncle Kick.”

Sammy launches a surprise hug attack on poor Tanner, who stands there stiff as a board. Reminds me of the way Jackson looks when Sammy tackle-hugs him. I make a note to have a chat with Sammy on the drive back about people having different physical boundaries.

“Here. Take this,”

Tanner says once Sammy releases him from his ninja grip, placing a white-walled, red-roofed house into his hand.

“This is your house,”

Sammy says, confused.

“No. It’s our house,”

Tanner corrects him with a smile.

“Where me and you live on our farm. I want you to have it.”

“That’s so cute,”

Candice says, clutching her chest beside me.

I grin at the boys.

“It really is.”

“Thank you so much.”

Sammy takes the house from Tanner and cradles it in his small hands like it’s the most precious thing in the world.

“Thanks for organizing this playdate. Wagner will organize the next one.”

Her eyes gleam.

“Tell him I look forward to that.”

“How did it go?”

Wagner asks when I drop Sammy off, his out-of-nowhere “meeting”

conveniently over. Sammy’s gone to get changed, which gives me a golden opportunity to needle my older bro for a change.

“Fine. I told her you’re organizing the next playdate, and her eyes lit up. I read that cougars in the wild do that, too, get all excited when they’re about to trap their prey.”

Wagner closes his laptop and stares at me with a confused frown from his work desk.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, nothing. But I think that little ol’ Candy might have a crush on you, that’s all. Wanted to warn you.”

“Warn me? You are such an idiot.”

“Huh?”

“Candice and I are friends.”

“What?”

He speaks slower.

“Candice…and I…are friends.”

How did I not know that.

“But I thought you were scared of her and her gold digger reputation. Isn’t that why you made me go over there to pick Sammy up?”

He lets out a rusty chuckle.

“No. I asked you to pick Sammy up because an important investor meeting came up unexpectedly. “

“So then why have you let me talk shit about her if you guys are friends?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

He leans forward, smirking like a motherfucker.

“So I have more ammo to tease you with.”

“Ugh, I hate you. I can never win.”

Wagner lifts up his phone.

“Say that again so I can record it.”

“How about this?”

I flip him off, then quickly lower my hand when Sammy struts into the room.

“Daddy!”

He flies over to Wagner and jumps into his lap, telling him all about his playdate with Tanner.

I take a much-needed moment to process all the new information I’ve recently acquired. First, finding out that Clancy’s family owned the sanctuary, and now, hearing that my brother is friends with Candice Burlington. I thought small-town life was meant to be boring and uneventful. Wrong on both counts, it seems.

Wagner is totally wrapped up in Sammy, so I decide to take off. I’ve got some investigating to do.

“I need to go,” I say.

Sammy leaps off Wagner and races over to give me a hug. How does the little dude have so much energy with literally zero caffeine.

“Bye, Uncle Kick. Love you.”

I kneel beside him and wrap my arms snugly around his toasty-warm little body.

“Love you, too, Sammy. Be good for your dad, okay?”

I say with a wink.

“Sure I will.”

He tries to wink back but only manages to scrunch up one side of his face. That one’s a work in progress.

I rise to my feet and ask Wagner.

“Where would I find property records for the sanctuary?”

“Ollie would have run some checks on recent sales before you bought it.”

“What about further than just recent sales? I’m talking decades back.”

He thinks about it for a moment.

“You could try the county recorder’s office. They usually hold deeds and other property ownership documents.”

“You’re actually useful for once. Thanks, Wag.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Why? You call me Mav.”

“You like that name. I don’t like mine.”

“Aw. Too bad. Bye, Wag.”

I wave, flashing him a self-satisfied grin to piss him off even more.

“Can I call you Wag?”

Sammy asks, peering up at his dad with a mischievous smile.

“Absolutely not.”

Wagner glares at me.

“Now, get back to work before you give him any more bad ideas.”

“Okay. I’m off. Later, guys.”

On the drive back to the sanctuary, my thoughts splinter down three distinct tracks.

First, I need to get to the bottom of what happened to make Clancy sell the rescue center. I’ll contact the county recorder’s office to see if they can help with that.

Then, I need to look into the possibility of reestablishing a beneficiary program to help with financing ongoing running costs. Candice mentioning the previous program ending makes me wonder if that, in part, is why previous owners struggled to make things work. It doesn’t matter how wealthy you are; no one wants to constantly be throwing money into a bottomless pit. To ensure its long-term survival, the center needs to be able to stand on its own two feet. Seeing as she’s friends with my brother, I might see if I can rope her into helping me.

My final train of thought is the most random one, inspired by Tanner giving Sammy the LEGO house they built together. On the surface, it was a cute gesture between two kids. But it’s given me an idea on how I can end whatever silly game Jackson seems intent on playing with me and prove to him, once and for all, that I really am committed to this sanctuary.

And that I’m just as serious about exploring something with him, too.

That whatever reasons he has for putting up boundaries with me aren’t needed. That if he’s been treated badly in the past, he doesn’t need to worry about me doing the same thing to him.

I want a clean slate and a fresh chance to show him I’m a decent guy. And this idea could be the ticket for doing just that. My fingers drum with anticipation against the steering wheel as I pull into the parking lot.

Jackson lives in a cabin on-site, which, once we get inspected, I suspect won’t be up to code. If Sammy got that excited about receiving a toy house, I can’t wait to see Jackson’s reaction when I build him a bigger, nicer cabin.

“So, what’s the verdict?”

I ask Gavin, the code endorsement officer, once he steps out of Jackson’s cabin a week after I got my awesome idea from two four-year-olds.

I didn’t go in with Gavin because I felt slightly guilty about invading Jackson’s privacy. But I want it to be a surprise, which is why I couldn’t give him a heads-up about the inspection. It’s also the reason why I organized it for during his lunch break when I knew he’d be at Clancy’s.

“Wish I had better news, but the cabin doesn’t meet current building codes.”

“I suspected as much.”

“Due to its compromised structural integrity and the outdated electricals, I’d recommend demolishing it as the best way forward to ensure safety and compliance. I’m going to have to issue you with a formal notice.”

“I understand. How long have I got?”

“Someone currently lives here, right?”

I nod. “They do.”

He taps the clicker on his pen sharply with his thumb.

“I’ll give you thirty days, but I’d recommend relocating them before then. If anything goes wrong, you’re liable. And if you get sued, well…”

“I get it. Thanks.”

He fills out the notice and hands it to me. This is moving faster than expected, but I guess what’s the point in waiting? Especially if the structure is unsafe. Looks like I’m going to have to ditch the surprise aspect and let Jackson know today that he can’t live here anymore.

I take my phone out, check my calendar, then text Jackson a meeting invite for 5:00 p.m. That buys me a few hours to come up with a way to break the news to him without him breaking my neck.