never forget that.”
Beside Sage, Dylan looked shell-shocked and he couldn’t blame him. Hell, the man was now the owner of one of the fastest-growing restaurant groups in the country. If that didn’t stop your heart a little, you weren’t human.
“My son Sage Lassiter—”
Sage tensed for whatever was coming. He wouldn’t have put it past J.D. to take one last swipe at him from the grave. To remind him publicly of the distance that had grown between them over the years. Like oil and water, Sage thought, he and J.D. had just never managed to mix well together.
“Sage,” Walter read with a shake of his head, “you’re my son and I love you. We butted heads too many times to count, but make no mistake, you’re a Lassiter through and through. I’m leaving you twenty-five-percent interest in Lassiter Media, a ten-percent share in Big Blue—to remind you that’s always your home—and lastly some cash that you won’t want and don’t need.”
Surprised and touched, Sage snorted.
Walter continued word for word, “You’re building your ranch your own damn way, just like I did. I admire that. So take this cash and buy something for that ranch. Something that will always remind you that your father loved you. Whether we could get along together or not.”
Damn. The old man had surprised him one last time, was all Sage could think. His throat felt like a fist was squeezing, closing off his air. If he didn’t get out of here soon, he was going to make a damn fool of himself. How the hell did J.D. know how to touch him, even from beyond the grave? How had he scripted words in a will months ago that could reach out long after he was gone to do what he hadn’t been able to do in life?
“And lastly,” Walter was saying, “I come to my beloved daughter, Angelica Lassiter. You are my heart and soul and the light of my life.”
Sage glanced at his sister and saw her beautiful face crumple into tears again.
“And so,” Walter read, “I leave you, Angelica, a ten-percent share of Big Blue, just like your brothers, the Lassiter estate in Beverly Hills, California, enough cash for you to spoil yourself some and finally, a ten-percent share in Lassiter Media.”
“What?” Sage jumped to his feet, outraged, and Dylan was just a breath behind him. All of the warm feelings for his adoptive father vanished in a blink. How could he do that to Angelica? He’d groomed his daughter for years to take over the day-to-day operations of Lassiter Media, a conglomerate of radio, TV, newspapers and internet news outlets. Hell, she’d practically been running the damn thing on her own since J.D. got sick. And now he cut her out of the thing she loved?
“You can’t be serious,” Sage argued hotly, with a quick look at his sister’s shocked, ashen features. “She’s been running Lassiter Media for J.D. He left me more interest than Angie? That’s insane!”
“We’ll challenge the damn will,” Dylan was saying, moving toward his sister to lay one hand on her shoulder in a show of solidarity.
“Damn straight,” Sage agreed, glaring at the lawyer as if it were all his fault.
“There’s more,” Walter said, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “And I warn you, try to challenge this will and you might all be sorry—but more about that later. For now, voting control with forty-one-percent share of Lassiter Media, chairmanship and title of CEO, I leave to Evan McCain.”
“Evan?” Angelica pulled away from her fiancé even as he was rising to his feet, stunned speechless.
“What the hell is going on here, Walter?” Sage demanded, coming around the corner of the man’s desk to snatch up the will and read the terms himself.
“J.D. knew what he wanted to do and he did it,” the lawyer argued.
“Well, it won’t stand,” Marlene said.
“Damn right it won’t,” Dylan piped up, charging the desk and snatching the will from his brother’s grasp.
“It’s not right.” Chance came to his feet slowly, his calm, quiet voice nearly lost in the confusion.
“I can’t believe it,” Angelica murmured, looking at her fiancé as if she’d never seen him before.
“I swear I don’t know anything about this,” Evan said, taking a step toward her only to stop when she backed away from him.
“Well, somebody does, and I’m going to find out what’s going on,” Sage promised, then snapped his gaze to the door. Colleen Falkner was slipping out of the office like a damn ghost.
She’d gotten what she wanted, he told himself. He only wondered what she’d had to do for three million dollars. And he also had to ask himself if she’d known about J.D.’s plans. Had she been involved in his decision to rob Angelica of the very thing she cared most about?
Damned if he wouldn’t find out.
* * *
Colleen leaned back against the door briefly, closing her eyes and forcing herself to drag a deep breath into her lungs. Her heart was pounding so hard and so fast she felt dizzy.
She hadn’t expected anything like this.
Three million dollars?
Tears burned her eyes, but she frantically blinked them back. Now wasn’t the time to indulge in tears for the loss of her friend—or for thinking about the future he had just made possible.
Behind her, she heard muffled shouts through the closed door. Sage Lassiter’s voice was the most unmistakable. Though he didn’t have to shout to be heard. The cold steel in his deep voice was enough to get the attention of anyone in the room.
God knew, he’d had her attention.
She’d felt him watching her earlier. Had sneaked a peek or two over her shoulder at him in return. He made her nervous. Always had. Which was why any time he’d come to the Big Blue ranch to visit his father—which wasn’t often—Colleen had made herself scarce.
He was so...male.
Sage Lassiter was a force of nature. The kind of man women drooled over. And she was the kind of woman men like him never noticed. Well, not usually. He’d certainly noticed her today, though. And he hadn’t looked very happy about it.
Tossing a quick look at the closed door behind her, Colleen hurried down the long beige hallway toward the elevators. She wanted to be long gone before Sage left that room.
She made it as far as the parking lot.
“Colleen!”
Standing beside her car, Colleen took a breath and braced herself. That deep voice was unmistakable.
Goose bumps broke out on her arms and it wasn’t because of the icy wind buffeting her. Blast Wyoming weather anyway. One day it was spring and the next, it was winter again. But the cold was the least of her worries.
It
