Allison Leigh - Fortune's Secret Heir

“When’s Mom gonna switch back to days?”

“She’d tell you to drink fruit juice rather than soda, too.” The Thomases’ kitchen wasn’t overly large. In a matter of three short steps, Ella could reach the sink, the fridge and the stove. And Rory, even as horribly thin as he was, took up a good portion of space. She stepped around him, automatically avoiding knocking into his crutches after a lifetime of practice, and stuck her lunch into the messenger-style bag she used to carry her textbooks. “And I think she’s got another month on nights, before she gets to switch back to days.” Their mother was a medical technologist working at the hospital, and the only thing regular about her schedule was its irregularity. But the pay was enough to keep a modest roof over their heads, and the medical insurance that came with it was even more crucial, considering Rory’s cerebral palsy.

“I hate it when she’s gone all night.”

Ella rubbed his unruly hair. Unlike her, his dark hair didn’t have a hint of red. He looked more like their mother, while she took after their father. “I know, bud.”

Typically, he shrugged off any displays of affection from her. In that, he was a pretty normal teenage brother. “So what’re you gonna be doing at Robinson Tech? Can you get any good deals on equipment? Maybe you’ll even get a new computer. Or their latest phone. Or at least an upgrade on—”

She waved her hand, cutting him off. “Don’t get excited. I’m not going to be working at Robinson Tech and there won’t be any new stuff. I’m just doing a job for Mr. Robinson. And what do you need with more computer equipment, anyway? Your bedroom barely has room for a bed, you have so many gadgets.”

“Software doesn’t take up room, and they’ve got a new OS coming out that’s looking really sweet. You could always ask, you know.”

She didn’t know what an OS was and didn’t care. “No, I certainly could not ask. You have everything you need for school? You’ve got chess club afterward—” She broke off when he rolled his eyes.

“Geez, Ella. I’m not five. And you forget stuff more ’n I ever do,” he reminded her.

That was true enough. Beyond him, she could see out the kitchen’s lone window that looked out on the street. “Your bus is here.” She waited for him to pull on his hooded jacket, then helped him on with his backpack and followed him through the house to the front door. “I don’t know how long Mr. Robinson wants me to work today, so if I’m not home to start dinner, Mom’s got—”

He was already moving down the ramp that had replaced the three front porch steps years ago, before he’d graduated from his wheelchair. “I know, I know, Ella,” he said impatiently. “Lasagna in the freezer. ’Bye already!”

It was a chilly morning and even though Ella’s instinct was to linger and make sure her brother got on the bus all right, she didn’t. She waved good morning to their neighbor Bernie, who was fastidiously sweeping nonexistent leaves off his own porch, and went back inside. She turned off the gas fireplace that had been keeping the living room warm, made a mental note to get the Christmas tree undecorated and hauled out of the house—since Christmas had been two weeks ago—and pulled her own jacket out of the closet.

Riding her bicycle to work was a fine idea, and something she’d done many, many times. It was more convenient than the bus, actually, since there was no schedule to worry about. But with rain in the forecast, the bus was more sensible. With her jacket covering her jeans and flannel shirt, she pulled the messenger-bag strap across her shoulder and set out herself for the nearest bus stop, about eight blocks away.

It could have been worse. The Thomases could have lived farther away from the bus line than they did. And with all the walking and bicycling that Ella did every day, she’d never had to particularly worry about indulging in whatever food she wanted.

Genetics probably helped there, too. Elaine was the same height as Ella and slender. And before he’d died, Ella’s father had been tall and lanky.

Not unlike Ben Robinson.

She still couldn’t believe he’d wanted to hire her.

Frankly, the more she thought about it, the more she considered his quest a little odd. It certainly wasn’t a regular occurrence in the world she’d always occupied.

If her father had had extramarital affairs that produced other children, would she have wanted to know?

It wasn’t as if Ben didn’t have brothers and sisters already. Heavens. He had seven! A twin brother who also worked at Robinson Tech, two other brothers and four sisters. It boggled her mind imagining the chaos eight children would have provided in the Thomas household. It made her smile, just thinking about it.

But then the Robinsons and the Thomases had very little in common, besides both residing in Texas. When she’d indulged her curiosity about Ben on the internet, she’d seen the photographs of the sprawling Robinson estate. Well, photographs of the stone walls and iron gates surrounding it, at least. There’d been a few aerial shots that showed multiple wings and a sparkling pool and a whole lot of trees that hid pretty much everything else from sight.

Certainly there’d been no picture of Ben Robinson sprawled poolside.

She was smiling over that thought, too, when she boarded the bus.

“Looking fine today, missy,” the bus driver greeted her.

“Thanks, Del.” She swiped her bus pass over the reader. “How’s your grandson doing?” The teenager went to the same school as Rory.

“Oh, he’s fine. Just fine. His mama and him are hoping to buy their own place soon.”

Ella pocketed her pass again, grinning at the driver. “You’re not going to know what to do with yourself if they actually move out.”

The driver hacked out a laugh and put the bus into motion. “Reckon that’s true, missy.”

It was early yet, only a few other riders already on the bus, and she chose a seat midway back on the window. The trip to Ben’s house would take the better part of an hour, but she didn’t have to make any transfers to another route, and that meant she had a good forty-five minutes to study.

Unfortunately, when she pulled out her textbook for her Intro to Taxation course, she seemed incapable of focusing on it. Same way she’d seemed incapable of getting more than an hour of sleep at a stretch the night before.

All because she couldn’t get Ben Robinson out of her head.

Finally, she gave up on the textbook and put the heavy tome back in her messenger bag. She had nearly two weeks to go before the class started. Presumably she’d have her infatuated fascination with Ben under control by then. It wasn’t as if anything would ever happen between them. He was totally out of her league.

But a girl could daydream, couldn’t she?

Staring sightlessly out the window beside her, as the bus pulled up to one stop after another, letting people on and letting people off, that was exactly what she did.

* * *

“At least you’re not late this time.” Mrs. Stone greeted her at the front door again.

Ella almost wanted to ask the woman if she ever smiled but figured the question wouldn’t be taken well. So instead, she just offered a “good morning,” and followed the housekeeper inside. Even though Mrs. Stone had given Ella a spare key the afternoon before, Ella hadn’t been able to summon the nerve to actually use it. Instead, it remained unused on the key chain that held her own house key, tucked safely inside her bag.

Like the day before, the house was quiet as a tomb inside, and she followed Mrs. Stone up to the third-floor study.

“Mister has already left for the office,” the housekeeper finally said when she gestured at Ben’s empty desk. “I suppose you know what you’re supposed to do.”