New Beginnings

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BETSY

Even before I pulled around the corner to my little one-story ranch house, I knew Kat wouldn't be there. The sunset fell behind the trees that shaded the yard, turning the sky a brilliant orange and red that bled through the foyer windows.

I locked the door behind me and stepped into the kitchen to start on dinner. 5pm. No doubt Kat was still buried under mounds of paperwork, calling on her staff to help her handle the things she didn't know. Truth was, even if she could never admit it, she'd come a long way in just three months as temporary CEO of Wayward.

From what Shane told me, the board could even permanently vote her in. My heart skipped at the thought of Shane Masiello, the sweet widower who'd chosen to stay and help Kat even though his brother had no more stake in Wayward than he did, but a wave of conflict followed it. As long as Rick held up the divorce proceedings, I couldn't consider another partner.

But I could feed him.

I served the grilled chicken, mac and cheese, and peas on four plates at the little table just as a knock sounded on the door.

"Hey, Elizabeth." Shane hugged me when I opened the door. "How did it go today?"

I offered a weak smile. "Let's get to the table and I'll tell you over dinner."

Jessie followed Shane to the dinner, smacking her lips at the sight of her favorite foods. Shane shot me a grin as he pulled my chair out for me. "I'm surprise you aren't tired of mac and cheese yet."

I laughed. "The company helps a lot."

His grin widened at my words. After he prayed for the food and we dug in, I started to tell him about my meeting with the lawyers.

"We're almost done transferring Chase Industries to my name. The audit is pulling up a lot more incriminating files than we'd estimated before—implicating even Katherine's grandfather from the very beginning. From before I ever knew Kat."

Shane's eyes widened. "How did he manage that?"

I shrugged. "Something about his business reputation. Some past employees of his came out to tell of some of his more questionable practices."

"Before he retired, then?"

"At least twenty years ago."

Shane let out a low whistle. "Guess some old dogs just don't change." He frowned. "Are they going to charge him in all this too?"

I thought about his question for a moment. Truth was, before all of this came out about Kat's grandfather's involvement in my husband's shady jobs, I thought he was just a vindictive, gnarled old man. He'd stolen Kat's manuscript, destroyed her relationship, and set about trying to steal Erland from her with false accusations.

With some help from Matthew's lawyers and my husband's deep pockets, we were able to secure the video footage of the old man throwing himself to the side. We even snagged some audio. Hearing it back made my heart break for my best friend all over again.

At least his obsession seemed to be enough for the county to throw him into a crazy-person prison. Dementia, the psychiatrists said. I disagreed on that point, but I'd throw whatever it took to keep him lock up and away from Kat.

"Depends on what the doctor says," I answered. "At the very least, he could be charged and serve an adjusted sentence."

Our eyes fell to the empty chair at the table, the food already cold. Jessie played with her food, threading the macaroni through the tines of her fork before eating them.

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