Page 24 of All Fall Down

“No,” I say resolutely. “I could, but this isn’t my battle anymore. I don’t want any more to do with it. Even though...”

I hesitate, because I don’t like bringing up money, especially not with a West.

“Out with it, Duchess,” he commands.

“She’s arranged for a trust fund in my name. Hans was more than happy to settle the separation quietly,” I say. I know Jameson can read between the lines. My stepfather paid my mother off. “It’s blood money.”

“You don’t have to take it.”

I don’t tell him that I’ve already used some for a good cause: looking into our case with a private investigator. After his miraculous feat, hiring a P.I. hardly seems like a groundbreaking contribution.

“I won’t.” I leave it at that. “I’ll donate it. With global warming, there’s always some new disaster relief fund that needs money.”

“Be serious for just a second,” he advises, kissing the tip of my nose.

“I am. I can’t think of a better way to spend his bribe than to erase some of the bad from the world with some good.”

“Whatever you think is best. Besides we don’t need money.”

“We?” I repeat. “When did we sign up for a joint checking account?”

It’s meant as a joke but Jameson shows no signs of laughing.

“You get serious,” I say, smacking his shoulder. Although all signs point to the fact that he is serious—very serious.

“Wests don’t joke about money.” He doesn’t clarify further. Before I can push the topic, because it seems pretty important that he know I don’t want his money, Maddox joins us. He’s carrying a small birthday cake blazing with so many candles I half expect that he’ll start a cabin fire. Without a flight attendant, I’m not certain if oxygen masks will drop down in that event.

“You don’t look like a stewardess,” I say when he places the cake on the table in front of Jameson and I.

“I left my pantyhose at home,” he says dryly.

I don’t complain when they insist on singing happy birthday to me. I turn to face the cake but remain on Jameson’s lap. He sings the words softly into my left ear, and when he finishes he whispers, “Make a wish.”

I don’t have to, because it’s already come true.

When the candles are all blown out, Maddox ducks back into the crew quarters to give us some privacy. I twist in Jameson’s arms until I’m staring into his stormy eyes.

“What did you wish for, Duchess?”

“You.” Then I seal my mouth to his.