Page 94

Her stomach dropped. “I don’t want your money, Cade.”
“Well, that’s nice, but this isn’t my money. This is yours.” He pressed the envelope into her hand. Wary, she opened it.
Inside was a check on the record label’s account. It was the exact amount they had charged her for Daphne’s concerts.
“How . . .”
“Like I said, I now own the label.” He corrected himself a moment later, tilting his head. “Well, actually, I own the majority share. But they wanted to make me happy and this was what I insisted upon.”
“Th-thank you.” She stared down at the check, numb.
“Don’t thank me,” Cade said. “Talk to me. Make me understand why you keep running away.” He clasped her hand in his. “I’m pretty sure I mentioned the part about me being rich, right? You could have come to me. I would have gladly given you the money.”
She flinched and pulled away from him. “That’s just it. I don’t want a handout. I don’t want to be a burden.”
“There’s that word again,” he said, and his voice was hard. “I don’t know why you seem to think that supporting and helping someone you love equates to a burden.”
“Cade,” she protested. “They were coming after me for thousands of dollars. Hundreds of thousands if what they told me was right.”
“Then it’s a good thing I have billions.” He shook his head. “It’s not about the money. Tell me what it is, Kylie. Make me understand.”
Kylie stared down at the check, then looked over at him again. “I . . . told you I grew up with my grandmother, right?”
“You did.”
“Well.” Her lips were dry. She licked them repeatedly, feeling uncomfortable and anxious. “My nana isn’t the most . . . happy of people. Her husband died when she was fifty, and then her only child died ten years later. So when she inherited me and I was all of ten years old, she really didn’t know what to do with me. Not only that, but her husband didn’t have life insurance, and neither did my parents, so not only did she have me to take care of, but she had to work outside of the house for the first time in her life. She hated it. And she hated me because of it.” Kylie’s stomach churned uncomfortably at the memories. “She always reminded me that I was fat and ugly, and she had to work two jobs because of me. I was nothing like my mother, who was beautiful and smart and thin. I was a burden, and she told me that constantly. And as I grew up, well, I decided that I’d never be a burden to someone like I was to her.” She gave him a faint smile. “Want to know the ironic part? When I hit twenty or so, Nana Sloane slipped into full-on dementia. She has to stay in a locked-down nursing home with round-the-clock care because her mind can’t stay focused on the present. Now she’s my burden.” Her laugh was bitter. “And she’s a really expensive one. I can’t seem to make ends meet caring for both her and myself, so one of us has to give, and she can’t work, so it falls back to me.”
“Oh, Kylie.” He gripped her hand in his. “That’s a horrible story. Didn’t anyone love you, growing up?”
She shrugged, feeling uncomfortable. “My parents did. I never felt unwanted with them. And I always had friends in school. It was just hard after they died.” Because Nana Sloane hated Kylie.
Such a burden. So useless. Look at how fat she is. She’s not even trying to take care of herself. I can’t believe I got stuck with her. I should have just called the state and had them take her away, but family always handles their own, no matter how awful it is. She’s my own albatross, a fat little liability that means I’ll never be happy again.
Cade’s look became knowing. “That night we went out for waffles . . . You told me about the ex that dumped you on the street. Does this have to do with him, too?”
“Boy, I’m really not good at hiding my issues, am I?”
“Are you afraid I’d do the same to you?”
“I don’t think you would,” Kylie said. “Then again, I didn’t think he would, either. I just . . . I can’t be someone else’s problem.” She rubbed her forehead. Talking about all the hurting, ugly things in her past was giving her a headache. But she had to. She had to make him understand that it wasn’t him, it was her. All her and her baggage.
“I’d never—”
“But you did blackmail me,” she pointed out with a rueful smile. “I still don’t have my panties back.”