And then she slowly became aware that at some point she’d sat down and was cradling her head in her hands. When she looked up, it was to see all six of the Cains staring at her in total surprise.
Yeah. Clearly, they weren’t used to people who were afraid of money.
It was Sydney who spoke first. “You know that Hollister is your father. But you seem surprised that anyone else knows or believes that you’re Hollister’s. And you don’t seem to want the inheritance that is rightfully yours.”
“I don’t!” she said quickly. Thanks to the helpful pages of the Houston Chronicle, she’d seen what their lives were like. She was smart enough to know that kind of money came with strings a mile long and as strong as Teflon-coated titanium. She didn’t want any part of that.
“Then why did you come?”
“I came because I need money.”
Dalton gave her an impatient look. “You do realize that the inheritance from Hollister is worth a lot of money, right?”
“I’m poor, I’m not an idiot.” She stood and marched over to the windows, staring unseeingly at the pristinely manicured lawns. From the corner of her eye, she might have seen Griffin punch Dalton in the arm. “I don’t want an inheritance from Hollister. And I don’t need money in two years or five years or wherever Hollister dies and the estate goes through probate. I need money now.”
“How much?” asked one of the guys—she didn’t know their voices well enough to know which one.
She glanced over her shoulder to see who had asked, and was surprised to see all three of the men reaching for their wallets. As if they’d just whip out two hundred thousand dollars in small bills.
“About two hundred thousand.” She automatically rattled off the number she’d settled on to cover all of Pearl’s expenses.
“For what?” asked Dalton after only a brief moment of silence.
“That’s something I’ll discuss with Hollister. When the time comes.” This was getting her nowhere. “Now, if you could just tell me where I can find him...”
Griffin stepped forward. “He’s not here now. He just left for Vail. But when you meet him for the first time, one of us should be with you.”
“So you can claim you found me and secure your inheritance?” she asked archly. Why the hell couldn’t she have come to Houston on a day when Hollister was at home? It would have been so much easier dealing with one greedy bastard instead of six.
“Actually,” Sydney said, “I think Griffin was offering more to protect you.”
“I don’t need protection from a dying seventy-year-old man.” At least, she assumed she didn’t. She was picturing Hollister as fairly weak, since they’d just described him as being on his deathbed. On the other hand, she was planning on blackmailing him. Which would probably piss him off.
“My father—” Griffin paused to gesture to her. “Our father isn’t a very nice man.”
“Yeah. I know that. I think I can handle anything he can dish out.”
But again, before she could make it to the door, Dalton stopped her. “If you think Hollister is just going to hand over two hundred thousand dollars, you’re wrong. He’s going to make it as hard on you as possible. Because that’s his MO.”
Meg hesitated. Dalton could well be right. And she was prepared for that. She had never expected this to be easy.
She must not have had a very good poker face, because apparently her nerves showed in her expression.
“Why do you need the money?” Dalton asked.
She stiffened. “That’s none of your business.”
“Are you in trouble? Is it for something illegal?”
“No!” Indignant, she leapt to her feet.
“Look, I didn’t mean to offend you,” Dalton said. “I want to help.”
Her gut reaction was eye-rolling suspicion and she didn’t bother to hide it. “Right. Because the Cains are known for their altruism.”
“Okay,” he admitted with a wry smile. “I think we can work something out that will help both of us. If you can stick around for a few days, do things our way, get Hollister to acknowledge you and change his will, then I can get you the two hundred thousand dollars. Free and clear, on top of whatever you inherit from Hollister when the time comes.”
Two hundred grand? The Cains must really be worried about losing control of that stock.
“And you can just come up with two hundred thousand dollars?” she asked, mostly to buy herself time to think.
Dalton shrugged. “Give me seventy-two hours and I can give you a hundred thousand in cash.”
“Same here,” Griffin said.
“Yeah, sure,” Cooper added.
“So there you have it. You agree to stay long enough to prove to Hollister that you are, in fact, the daughter he’s been looking for and you can have the money in three days. But you stick around after you get the money. You stay until we have a new will that no one can contest. Deal?” Dalton held out his hand.
She just stood there, staring at it. A handshake was still legally binding in Texas, after all. She had to be sure.
“If Hollister has been looking for me, why are you so worried about him believing I’m his daughter?”
They all looked at Dalton again, as if they were trying to decide how much to say.
Finally Dalton sighed, ducking his head slightly as he spoke. “Hollister’s behavior has been erratic the last few years. The fact that he set up this challenge proves that. We’ll all feel a lot better when his will is nailed down.”
Okay, so they were worried about their own skins. At least that was a motive she could believe and understand.
A guaranteed two hundred thousand dollars sounded a lot better than facing Hollister with blackmail demands and hoping she didn’t blink first.
On the flip side, it meant staying in Houston. At least three days. Maybe longer.
Janine, she knew, would be happy taking care of Pearl. But God...several days away from Pearl? On the other hand, it was a few days and it was only a two-hour drive. So she could make it back to Victoria if something serious came up.
She just needed to avoid Grant while she was in Houston. But how hard could that be? Houston was a city of more than two million people. All she had to do was lay low and stay out of his way while this was going on. Easy as pie, right? And she made pies for a living.
She held out her hand to Dalton. She’d come here expecting to make a deal with the devil and instead she was making one with the devil’s son.
“Deal,” she agreed.
* * *
This was so not her idea of laying low.
Meg stood in the doorway of the Kimball Hotel’s grand ballroom, staring out at the two hundred or so people who made up the glitterati of Houston society. The Children’s Hope Foundation’s annual fund-raiser was one of the premier social events in the city. The average net worth in this room probably exceeded the GDP of most developing nations. Of course, she was there to bring down the average. Or at least, she would be if she could bring herself to step into the room.
At her side, Sydney gave her elbow a squeeze. “You got this. Come on, into the lion’s den.”
“Aren’t they going to announce me or something?”
“I think they only do that in England.”
“Okay.” Meg blew out a breath, rubbed her palms