One year later
Some things are too good to be true. Connor was like that. He was fireworks against the night sky—spectacular and beautiful and gone much too soon. Yet, he’d left me a legacy that would last.
My daughter slept in the baby carrier, snuggled against my chest, as I walked into the conference room and shook hands with my lawyer.
“I’m so glad you brought her. Can I see?”
I turned sideways so Meg’s face was visible. Her thumb was in her mouth, her sooty lashes forming perfect half-moons against the velvet of her cheeks.
“Beautiful,” she said.
“She has her daddy’s eyes.”
“I remember when we first met, and you told me you were expecting.”
“Ugh, in that jail cell? I’d rather not think about it.”
“You’ve been through a lot, Tabitha. I know you don’t have the appetite for a fight, but you can still change your mind. It’s a lot to give up for her. Are you sure?”
I’d come to my lawyer’s office today to sign a settlement agreement. At the time of his death, Connor was the legal heir to Nina Levitt’s fortune, and as Connor’s heir, I’d stepped into that position. But the estate was still subject to the lawsuit by Nina’s sister, Kara Baxter, who’d argued in court that Connor shouldn’t inherit because he was responsible for Nina’s death. I knew that was a lie. And I couldn’t allow his name to be publicly sullied. So, I’d hired Suzanne Cohen again, to prove Connor’s innocence in court for all the world to see. With the recording from that awful night, we had the evidence to win the case outright. Kara Baxter’s lawyers knew that. They’d begged us to settle for half the estate. But that just didn’t feel right to me. I saw no reason why I should get half of Nina’s vast fortune. Not only didn’t I know Nina, but I’d slept with the poor woman’s husband. I felt guilty about that to this day, so how could I take her money? But neither did I see why Kara should get it. The two of them had been estranged for decades, and Kara had willfully lied about Connor and me, smearing us in the press and setting off our troubles.
I had my lawyer propose a deal where Nina’s fortune went to charity, except that Kara would get five million in exchange for dropping the lawsuit and making a public statement acknowledging Connor’s innocence. That seemed like a fair price to pay for my daughter to grow up knowing that her father had been a good man. Financially, we would be fine. We already were. Connor had three million dollars in life insurance from his executive position at Levitt Global, paid in full, so I knew that our future was secure.
“We have everything we could ever need. Let’s do this,” I said.
I signed the papers. Five million would be wired to Kara Baxter. Another five million was held aside as a settlement to Gloria for the pain and suffering she’d endured at the hands of Edward Levitt. The remainder was allocated to the Nina Levitt Foundation, dedicated to education and the arts.
Now, I had to go on with the difficult task of rebuilding my life, if only for my daughter’s sake. I’d bought a house in Lakeside, about ten minutes from the restaurant. The house was modest, but the neighborhood was excellent, with wonderful schools for when Meg was older. I had a new Toyota RAV4 hybrid that got good safety ratings. And I was in the process of buying the Baldwin Grill, which had been put up for sale by its owners and might otherwise have shut down. Liz would continue to manage the restaurant, and Matt would bartend. But the chef had left, and I’d hired Liz’s husband’s cousin to replace him—the guy in the truck who’d rescued me that awful day. Alex owned an organic farm and had been to culinary school. He had a vision of turning the place into a farm-to-table destination, and I was interested in being part of that.
By giving up any claim to Nina Levitt’s fortune, I’d put that strange, glittering, awful time behind me. I was making a life that felt right, except for one awful, yawning absence. Connor had died to protect me and our daughter. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get over him, or even that I wanted to. If I did, it wouldn’t happen for a long time. For now, I sometimes felt his presence around me, and saw him when I looked into my daughter’s eyes. He was a good man. Not a perfect man, but he loved me. And I loved him, dearly. Our daughter is the legacy of that.