Falling For The Secret Millionaire. Kate Hardy

Clarence could be in a serious relationship. Living with someone, engaged, even married.

      Even if he wasn’t, supposing they met and she discovered that the real Clarence was nothing like the online one? Supposing they really didn’t like each other in real life? She valued his friendship too much to risk losing it. If that made her a coward, so be it.

      Changing his role in the business. Taking it in a different direction. Gabriel could just imagine the expression on his father’s face if he suggested it. Shock, swiftly followed by, ‘I saved your skin, so you toe the line and do what I say.’

      It wasn’t going to happen.

      But he appreciated the fact that Georgygirl was trying to think about how to make his life better.

      For one mad moment, he almost suggested she should bring details of the business she’d just inherited and meet him for dinner and they could brainstorm it properly. But he stopped himself. Apart from the fact that it was none of his business, supposing they met and he discovered that the real Georgygirl was nothing like the online one? Supposing they loathed each other in real life? He valued his time talking to her and he didn’t want to risk losing her friendship.

      Thanks for making me feel human again, he typed.

      Me? I didn’t do anything. And you gave me some really good advice.

      That’s what friends are for. And you did a lot, believe me. He paused. I’d better let you go. I’m due back in the office. Talk to you later?

      I’m due back at the office, too. Talk to you tonight.

      Good luck. Let me know how it goes with your mum.

      Will do. Let me know how it goes with your family.

      Sure.

      Though he had no intention of doing that.

       CHAPTER TWO

      BY THE TIME Nicole went to the restaurant to meet her mother that evening, she had a full dossier on the Electric Palace and its history, thanks to the Surrey Quays forum website. Brian Thomas had owned the cinema since the nineteen-fifties, and it had flourished in the next couple of decades; then it had floundered with the rise of multiplex cinemas and customers demanding something more sophisticated than an old, slightly shabby picture house. One article even described the place as a ‘flea-pit’.

      Then there were the photographs. It was odd, looking at pictures that people had posted from the nineteen-sixties and realising that the man behind the counter in the café was actually her grandfather, and at the time her mother would’ve been a toddler. Nicole could definitely see a resemblance to her mother in his face—and to herself. Which made the whole thing feel even more odd. This particular thread was about the history of some of the buildings in Surrey Quays, but it was turning out to be her personal history as well.

      Susan hardly ever talked about her family, so Nicole didn’t have a clue. Had the Thomas family always lived in Surrey Quays? Had her mother grown up around here? If so, why hadn’t she said a word when Nicole had bought her flat, three years ago? Had Nicole spent all this time living only a couple of streets away from the grandparents who’d rejected her?

      And how was Susan going to react to the news of the bequest? Would it upset her and bring back bad memories? The last thing Nicole wanted to do was to hurt her mother.

      She’d just put the file back in her briefcase when Susan walked over to their table and greeted her with a kiss.

      ‘Hello, darling. I got here as fast as I could. Though it must be serious for you not to be at work at this time of day.’

      Half-past seven. When most normal people would’ve left the office hours ago. Nicole grimaced as her mother sat down opposite her. ‘Mum. Please.’ She really wasn’t in the mood for another lecture about her working hours.

      ‘I know, I know. Don’t nag. But you do work too hard.’ Susan frowned. ‘What’s happened, love?’

      ‘You know I went to see that solicitor today?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘I’ve been left something in a will.’ Nicole blew out a breath. ‘I don’t think I can accept it.’

      ‘Why not?’

      There was no way to say this tactfully. Even though she’d been trying out and discarding different phrases all day, she hadn’t found the right words. So all she could do was to come straight out with it. ‘Because it’s the Electric Palace.’

      Understanding dawned in Susan’s expression. ‘Ah. I did wonder if that would happen.’

      Her mother already knew about it? Nicole stared at her in surprise. But how?

      As if the questions were written all over her daughter’s face, Susan said gently, ‘He had to leave it to someone. You were the obvious choice.’

      Nicole shook her head. ‘How? Mum, I pass the Electric Palace every day on my way to work. I had no idea it was anything to do with us.’

      ‘It isn’t,’ Susan said. ‘It was Brian’s. But I’m glad he’s finally done the right thing and left it to you.’

      ‘But you’re his daughter, Mum. He should’ve left it to you, not to me.’

      ‘I don’t want it.’ Susan lifted her chin. ‘Brian made his choice years ago—he decided nearly thirty years ago that I wasn’t his daughter and he is most definitely not my father. I don’t need anything from him. What I own, I have nobody to thank for but myself. I worked for it. And that’s the way I like it.’

      Nicole reached over and squeezed her mother’s hand. ‘And you wonder where I get my stubborn streak?’

      Susan gave her a wry smile. ‘I guess.’

      ‘I can’t accept the bequest,’ Nicole said again. ‘I’m going to tell the solicitor to make the deeds over to you.’

      ‘Darling, no. Brian left it to you, not to me.’

      ‘But you’re his daughter,’ Nicole said again.

      ‘And you’re his granddaughter,’ Susan countered.

      Nicole shrugged. ‘OK. Maybe I’ll sell to the developer who wants it.’

      ‘And you’ll use the money to do something that makes you happy?’

      It was the perfect answer. ‘Yes,’ Nicole said. ‘Giving the money to you will make me very happy. You can pay off your mortgage and get a new car and go on holiday. It’d be enough for you to go and see the Northern Lights this winter, and I know that’s top of your bucket list.’

      ‘Absolutely not.’ Susan folded her arms. ‘You using that money to get out of that hell-hole you work in would make me much happier than if I spent a single penny on myself, believe me.’

      Nicole sighed. ‘It feels like blood money, Mum. How can I accept something from someone who behaved so badly to you?’

      ‘Someone who knew he was in the wrong but was too stubborn to apologise. That’s where we both get our stubborn streak,’ Susan said. ‘I think leaving the cinema to you is his way of saying sorry without actually having to use the five-letter word.’

      ‘That’s what Cl—’ Realising what she was about to give away, Nicole stopped short.

      ‘Cl—?’ Susan tipped her head to one side. ‘And who might this “Cl—” be?’

      ‘A friend,’ Nicole said grudgingly.

      ‘A male friend?’

      ‘Yes.’