“You want some peach tea?” Farrah heard her sister ask, breaking her connection to the past.
“Umm...what?”
Francine’s forehead creased with worry. “What in the world were you just thinking about? You’re all red...and blushing.”
“Nothing, it’s just hot in—”
“No, it’s not,” Francine shot back, her frown deepening.
“I have to go,” she said, checking the wall clock, thankful that their triplet connection was off today; otherwise, Francine would have a pretty good idea as to why she was blushing. “I have to get back to the office. I have a meeting with Fletcher Scott.”
Francine’s head whipped to Farrah. “Fletcher? Why, what’s up?”
“I’m having him check into something for Felicia. No big deal.”
“We sure keep Fletcher busy with all our personal stuff, don’t we? What’s going on?” Francine asked, taking her seat again.
“Do you remember Felicia’s old medical school roommate, Valarie Washington?”
Francine nodded. “The girl who Felicia called Mega-Brain because she never really studied. She just really seemed to know the answers to everything.”
“That’s the one,” Farrah confirmed. “Well, she died and left our baby sister her estate...her multimillion-dollar estate,” she said, placing her hand on her hip.
“She died?” Francine whispered. “I’m sorry to hear that. How?”
“Cancer...unfortunately.”
“I remember her being really cool. Wait, did you say her estate?” Francine asked, rubbing her sides with the palms of her hands. “If I remember correctly, she was a foster kid going to school on the state’s dime and scholarships. I think she became a pediatrician. Wow, she must’ve done really well for herself.”
“She did, but the money came from her husband. She married well and divorced even better.”
“So what are you having Fletcher looking into?”
“The firm that’s handling the estate,” Farrah replied, gathering her things to leave. “We just need to make sure everything’s on the up-and-up before Felicia travels across the world for the appointment.”
“Why can’t you just handle it for her?”
“One of the stipulations in the will is that she show up in person to collect her inheritance.”
“I see.”
Farrah offered her sister her hand. “Need help getting up before I go? I’d hate to think of you stuck in that chair until Meeks or Peggy gets back,” she teased.
“I’m fine, thank you very much,” Francine said in a sour tone. “I can get myself up. It’ll just take a minute...or two...” she grimaced, adding, “...or three. You must’ve really been lost in your thoughts not to hear Peggy return several minutes ago. She’s putting away the groceries and finishing up my snack.” Francine put her feet up on the chair’s matching ottoman. “I swear she’s just as bad at hovering as Meeks.”
“Why did he insist on hiring you a babysitter anyway? Everyone’s either a phone call or elevator ride away.”
“The closer I get to my due date, the more worried he becomes,” she replied. “Since he can’t be with me twenty-four-seven, and with the new celebrity protection case in full swing, he can’t put an agent on me, Peggy is the next best thing. Besides, marriage is as much about compromise as it is about making each other happy,” Francine stated, rocking. “It makes him happy, knowing Peggy is here helping me out when he’s not. I compromised by allowing him to hire her for a few hours a day.” Francine picked up the teddy bear that sat on the side table and stroked the soft material. “Anyway, she’s sweet and very helpful.”
“I guess...”
“Don’t forget about what we discussed earlier,” Francine reminded as she stopped rocking.
Farrah leaned down and kissed her sister on the cheek. “How could I? Talk to you later.”
* * *
Robert walked past several midlevel cubicles, heading to his office. As he approached the frosted glass conference room, a familiar voice caught his attention. He turned and entered the conference room. “Fletcher, what are you—”
Fletcher held up his cell phone and Robert stopped his progression, crossed his arms and waited as the other man completed the call. After a few moments, Fletcher placed his phone in his jacket pocket. “Hey, man, what’s up?”
“Just trying to keep the unnecessary from becoming necessary,” Robert replied, extending his hand to shake Fletcher’s.
Fletcher placed his portfolio on the conference room table. “Well, there’s no one better at keeping situations calm and from escalating to World War V than you and your team around here,” he replied, accepting Robert’s hand.
“Last time I checked, America’s only fought in three wars,” Robert corrected.
“I meant Francine and Farrah,” he said, scratching his bald head. “You know what they’re like.”
Robert broke into hearty laughter. “So, what are you doing here?”
Fletcher scratched his neck. “Farrah called and asked me to stop by.”
“Why?”
“I’m not sure,” Fletcher said. “She just said there was something she wanted to talk to me about.” He leaned in to whisper. “You don’t think she figured it out, do you?”
“No, I’m sure she hasn’t,” Robert reassured, but inwardly cringed at the thought.
“Because those papers won’t stand up to her microscopic inspection,” Fletcher warned.
Robert stood and jammed his hands in his pockets. “Like I already told you, Farrah didn’t even look at them when I handed it to her. We’ve been so busy dealing with things around here that I doubt she’s even thought about them again.”
Fletcher stood up straight and folded his arms across his chest. “That’s all well and good, but I think you need to come clean and tell Farrah the truth.”
“Tell me the truth about what exactly?” Farrah asked, standing in the door of the conference room.