Ryan shrugged. "Why the h.e.l.l not? You have." Ryan started towards the house, stopping to add, "I'm going to visit with my favorite squirt. I'll see you when you're feeling human again."

"Watch her temper. It's lethal."

"Takes after her uncle," he called over his shoulder.

Griff hefted himself up onto the hood of his car. The weather was rapidly changing. Fall would turn to winter. Griff would go back to being a solo pract.i.tioner. Cold and lonely. He wondered if he was referring to the season or to himself.

A light breeze blew cold air through his cotton shirt. His skin felt chilled, especially where the milk had settled. A few months ago, he would have been riding in his convertible, top down and probably heading to work, even on Sunday. He'd have been wearing at least a sport jacket, if not a suit and tie. One thing for sure, milk stains wouldn't be anywhere near his designer clothing.

When had he stopped missing his old lifestyle? The days of living for money and the luxuries it brought no longer appealed to him, and he knew for certain it wouldn't have appealed to Chelsie. Time with her had taught him that she was like her sister. Neither valued things above people. Shannon had left her parents' wealthy lifestyle behind to marry his brother.

Chelsie, too, had chosen her own way, just as he had. After his brother's death, Griff had automatically a.s.sumed the role of guardian without thought to how his life would change. But it had.

Some changes he'd always regret The absence of his brother and sister-in-law, for one. Though the pain hadn't subsided completely, he was learning to live with the loss. Hopefully, as he dealt with his grief, he would teach Alix how to live with hers.

Just as Chelsie had done. He couldn't fault her for attempting to bridge the gap with her parents. She had little enough family in her life.

He pressed a hand to his temple and thought of their common bond. Of Alix. Griff had lost his brother, but gained a daughter. He really didn't consider Alix anything less. How could he regret the little girl who had changed his life? She made him more human. She made him have fun. She made him capable of love.

Alix was a part of him. And so was Chelsie.

Griff could no longer remember the man he was before Alix entered his life on a permanent basis. Chelsie had known that other man only by reputation-the one who lived for his work, who didn't care much about anyone or anything other than having fun and making money.

She'd been a part of his transformation. They'd practically raised the little girl together these last few months. If his own life and feelings were forever intertwined with his niece, why did he expect Chelsie to feel different?

She said she loved Alix, and not just as the little girl's aunt. She also said she loved him. How could she separate the two? Love one and not the other? The answer was simple. She couldn't.

Chelsie had accused him of running scared. That much had been true. He had been afraid she'd abandon him. Then, when she pledged her love and promised to stay, he questioned the depth of her feelings. If he continued to lump her in the category of Deidre and his mother, he would always have an excuse to push her away. The old Griff would have done that. The man Alix had taught how to open his heart would not.

So which Griffin Stuart would control his future? The answer was just a start. He had joined the list of men in Chelsie's life to shatter her trust and let her down. Would she believe anything he had to say?

Even if she accepted his words, after watching the scene with her ex-husband, Griff had his doubts about whether she'd put the past behind her completely. She still had one more hurdle to face, though he doubted she was aware of it yet. Considering he had done all the taking so far-her help with Alix, the partnership and the clients she brought in-he could offer this one thing in return. More than an apology was necessary to make Chelsie believe in him. He only hoped he didn't destroy their future in the process.

Heat and humidity hit her as she exited the West Palm Beach airport. Chelsie turned her face toward the sun, grabbing a minute's reprieve before climbing into her rental car and heading for her parents home. She began her drive with fists clenched tight around the steering wheel, her tension mounting with each pa.s.sing mile.

They expected her arrival, but she had no idea what to expect from them. Having gone most of her childhood without strong support on the home front, she knew she didn't need anything from them in order to survive. But her self-imposed exile, combined with her sister's death, had taken its toll. She might not need anything, but she wanted more than she'd received so far.

With Griff all but out of her life in the ways that mattered most, her heart was fragile, her nerves near to breaking. She desperately needed the warmth and understanding only loving parents could provide. Hers had rarely come through. She was here to change things between them before it was too late.

Life's lessons had been hard won for Chelsie. Family was important. She had let hers disintegrate, but she wanted to pick up the pieces. Once she and Griff officially dissolved their partnership, her time with her niece would be more limited than before. She had to make it count. She couldn't offer Alix much, but she could give the child the benefit of relatives who cared and the warmth of family. Mending the ties that remained was also the one thing she could do for herself.

When her parents' exit came up on the turnpike, Chelsie was surprised. She'd pa.s.sed half an hour lost in thought. She turned into the gated community, slowing as she approached the guardhouse on the left.

"Name?" an older man dressed in white asked.

"Russell."

He checked his clipboard, then raised the electronic gate and waved her through. She was expected, but was she wanted?

She drove down the tree-lined peripheral road that circled the golf course and adjoining homes. Her parents' new sedan sat parked in their driveway. Chelsie's stomach rolled in nervous reaction, reminding her of the day she'd tried her first case. She hoped this experience would turn out better.

She grabbed her bag and stood by the car, glancing at the large, patio-styled home her parents had purchased last year.

"Chelsie?"

She turned at the sound of her mother's high-pitched voice, in time to see the older woman step outside. She hadn't seen Ellen Russell since the day of the hearing and was surprised to see her well-groomed mother in walking shorts and an oversized shirt, looking ... human. She couldn't help but wonder if grief had done what nothing else could.

Chelsie went toward her, and when her mother's arms opened wide, her walk turned into a run.

The morning sun streamed through the kitchen window. Chelsie blinked into the Florida sunlight. For the first time in years, she felt at peace in her parents' home. Although they'd put off the harder discussions last night one thing had been clear. The rift between them had closed.

She picked through the basket of a.s.sorted rolls on the kitchen table and settled herself into a wicker chair. She popped a piece of blueberry m.u.f.fin into her mouth and wondered when the last time was she'd taken the time to sit down to breakfast to relax and stop running to work, to meetings, to appointments, to Alix ... and from life. Setting things in order now not only felt good, it felt right She only wished she hadn't had to lose Griff in order to reclaim the rest of her life. With one daughter gone, her parents had obviously taken stock. If they remained understanding and not judgmental, she'd finally have two loving parents, and Alix would have grandparents who cared and role models to emulate. The mother who'd taken up gardening was far removed from the socialite who had tried to mold both Chelsie and Shannon as they grew up, an emotionally contrite woman who wasn't the same person who had tried to bribe Griff a few months earlier.

The whoosh of the sliding gla.s.s door signaled her parents' return from their morning walk. She washed the dry m.u.f.fin down with a sip of orange juice and turned. "Hi."

"Morning." Her mother, still out of breath, joined her at the table. After grabbing two gla.s.ses and pouring juice, so did her father.

"How was your walk?" Chelsie asked.

"Refreshing."

Chelsie laughed. "I'm sorry, but I don't recognize either of you. You two look like a television ad for vitamins or something."

"Instead of one for Tiffany Jewelers?" her mother asked. The older woman didn't join in the laughter.

Time for honesty, Chelsie thought. No matter how hard or what the results. She glanced at her mother. "Well, now that you mention it, yes."

Her mother glanced down at her hands. Skin once soft and smooth now showed signs of work. Chelsie had to admit she was proud of the change. She hoped it extended to her mother's sense of understanding, as well.

"I suppose I deserved that."

Chelsie shook her head and placed her hand on top of her mother's. "No, you didn't. I didn't come here for anger or recriminations."

"Then why did you come?"

"Forgiveness," Chelsie whispered.

"There's nothing to forgive." Her mother's voice cracked.

Her father stepped in to fill the silent void. "We never should have sued Griffin for custody, never should have attempted to bribe him. Never should have used your feelings for your sister as a means to get you to do our dirty work."

"What your father is trying to say is we never blamed you for losing custody. We blamed ourselves for attempting to get it in the first place. That little girl deserves better than we would have given her." Her mother drew a steadying breath. "Better than we gave you and your sister."

Chelsie fought the relief and accompanying dizziness and forced herself to concentrate on their words, words she never thought she'd hear. "Shannon and I had everything growing up." She couldn't bear to hear her parents so full of guilt and blame. They'd lost one daughter and were about to get yet another shock from her.

"Every advantage, yes. I saw to that by working hard and providing you with the upbringing neither your mother nor I had." Darren Russell's low voice was contrite and anguished. Chelsie couldn't remember a time in her life when she'd heard him so honest ... or so empty.

"We got carried away by the money and the lifestyle," her mother said. "It became more important than people. What people thought of us became more important than our own children or our grandchildren." She glanced down at their intertwined hands. "We were wrong. We lost out on years of more important things, years of closeness with you and your sister, and we're sorry." Her head lowered in shame. "And we'll make it up to you and any grandchildren we're lucky enough to have."

Chelsie swallowed over the painful lump in her throat. They'd given her what she'd always wanted. They'd given her back her parents, while she was about to take away their last dreams. "So am I. And I ..."

"We don't expect your forgiveness."

She raised damp eyes to meet their expectant gaze. "But you have it. You always have. But ..." Chelsie inhaled for courage.

"But what?" Her mother rolled her hand over, capturing Chelsie's and holding on tight. "We've been through the worst. I think it's time we heard all of it. Then we can finally be a family."

Chelsie nodded and turned to her mother. Images of Griff and Alix a.s.sailed her. The very people who'd given her back her life. She owed it to them to come all the way back, even if Griff no longer wanted any part of her.

She bit the inside of her cheek before speaking. "You ... you won't be having any more grandchildren," she said. In the minutes that ensued, Chelsie told her parents the same details she'd shared with Griff, and waited for the same painful end.

To her shock and relief, it never came. Her sister's death had changed her parents-too late for Shannon, but just in time for Chelsie.

"Well, at least this wife will be the last woman he abuses." Her father sat with clenched fists, his skin pale beneath the Florida tan.

Chelsie gnawed on the inside of her cheek. "I've been thinking about that. The system never works quite the way it should. The courts are overcrowded, and given Jeff's propensity to charm and talk his way out of things, he might get off with a hefty fine and community service."

"The man needs help," her father muttered.

"Exactly. And I think I know a way to see he gets it." For Chelsie, it was also a way to make amends for not acting in the past.

Even Griff couldn't fault this idea, considering he, too, wanted a.s.surance that her ex-husband would get the help he needed. Unfortunately, Griff would fight her involvement out of concern. He might not want her in his life, but she knew him well enough to know he'd protect her anyway. Which was why she had no intention of mentioning this particular idea until it was complete.

Her father leaned forward. "I'm listening."

She smiled. He was. After a lifetime of drought, she had unconditional support at last.

Hours later, she knew she'd done the right thing and she'd explain that to her ex-partner when she got home. Since her father had excused himself, Chelsie now sat alone with her mother. She eased back in the family-room recliner.

"Remember, if he doesn't want you, it's his loss." Her mother crossed the room and knelt down beside her.

Despite the painful words, Chelsie burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" Ellen Russell asked.

"You're talking to me like I'm a teenager and I've lost my first true love."

Her mother reached out and touched her hair. "Haven't you?"

"Haven't I what?" Chelsie asked. She'd been brutally honest about everything in her life except her relationship with Griff. That particular loss was still too painful and fresh.

Her mother's wise gaze met hers. "Lost your first true love?"

Chelsie opened and closed her mouth, unable to form an answer. Apparently a mother never lost her intuition, even after years of neglect.

"I lost your teenage years in a selfish fog, but I'm here now. And I know what I see."

"What's that?" Chelsie asked, too emotionally spent to get her anger up or argue.

"A heartbroken woman. And I know as sure as we're sitting in this room, talking like mother and daughter, that your pain has nothing to do with your ex-husband and everything to do with Griff."

She blinked back tears, but they fell anyway. Then Chelsie did the one thing she needed most. She cried in her mother's arms.

The roar of airplanes sounded in the distance as Chelsie bid good-bye to her parents at the airport.

"We'll be back at the end of the month," her father promised, "apology in hand and knocking on that man's door to see our granddaughter."

Her father had referred to Griff as that man ever since her mother had informed him he'd turned Chelsie away. In her opinion, they were taking the parent routine too far, but they'd get past it. "I'm sure I can arrange visits. He's not unreasonable, Dad. And given everything you put him through, an apology would help ease things between you."

"I'll do it, but after what he did to you ..."

"That's between us, and you owe him." She leaned over and kissed her father's weathered cheek.

"I know. But I still don't like what went on between you two."

"Like you said, Dad, it went on between us. Stay out of it."

He turned towards his wife. "I'm good enough to talk to when it comes to dealing with her son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h ex-husband, but when it comes to ..."

"The man she loves, it's none of your business."

Chelsie looked at her parents and laughed. Two people who had learned life's lessons the harshest possible way, but still remained together. She wished Griff could see them now. Maybe he'd believe anything was possible.

She thought of his past and his pain and knew she was wishing for the impossible.

THIRTEEN.

Griff turned onto the busy street. The modern office building he sought appeared on his left.

"Last chance to back out." Ryan thumped his hand against the dashboard of the car.

The time had long pa.s.sed to second-guess his decision. So much of his life and his future rode on this meeting. Griff turned the steering wheel, angling the car into the nearest parking spot in the underground lot. "No way in h.e.l.l. You?" He glanced at Ryan.

"Nope."

Griff had known the answer before he asked the question. Ryan had never deserted him in the past. He wouldn't start now. The trust he placed in his friend had taught him a valuable lesson, one he intended to extend to Chelsie. Both people were loyal and cared for him. Griff only wished he'd heeded what was in front of him for so long.