"Yes," Clint answered. "Your grandfather is in the middle and your grandmother is on the other side.
"I look very much like my mother when she was young."
"Very much," Clint answered.
She tore her eyes away finally and surveyed the rest of the room. "Austin is bringing some papers for me to sign. I think I should like signing them in this room where they can watch."
"I'll let you know as soon as he arrives," Clint said. "Will there be anything else?"
"No, not that I can think of. Oh wait, Bill, tomorrow morning I need you to take me to the bank, but must we go in the limo?"
"I haven't taken the Rolls out for a while," said Bill.
"Better, much better."
Once they had all gone back to their jobs, she went to the solitude of her room. She found her laptop in the closet, cleared a place to set it up and opened the chat room.
Austin wasn't there.
She closed the lid, stretched out on the bed and stared at the ceiling. "What do I do now?"
*
The next day, Austin put a required notice in the newspaper concerning Nicholas Gladstone's will.
Someone leaked it, and news that a long lost granddaughter stood to inherit Nick's estate, hit all the papers. Georgia suspected Nicole told them, but it didn't matter, they would have found out anyway. Reporters began to gather at the gate, but she refused to give interviews and so far, none of them had a picture of her. She was glad to have all the security in place.
Each day, Austin sent papers for her to sign, and company portfolios for her to read, but he didn't bring them himself or call. When she checked, Bronco had not signed into the chat room either. After a few days, she stopped checking. No one else laid claim to Nick's fortune, and in an envelope he sent with some other papers, Austin's handwritten note said the will had been probated.
Georgia crumpled it up and tossed it in the trash.
When she wasn't busy signing papers and trying to learn about the various companies, she entertained Jim and his family, played with the dog, and stood on the balcony watching colored lights illuminate the fountain as another day turned into night.
Her heart was broken. The memory of being in his arms, however briefly, played over and over in her mind and she wished she hadn't memorized it. Nevertheless, she had lost him and she had to come to terms with it somehow.
*
On a rainy Florida afternoon, and with two thousand dollars in his pocket, Mathew Connelly walked down a Tampa, Florida pier. He had a bag of groceries in one hand and a suitcase full of clothes in the other, when he turned down the walkway between two yachts. He set his suitcase down and dug in his pocket for the key to a yacht he didn't think anyone knew he owned.