You've Got Male novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: Room 412

Lyle and his mother arrive with a folder of forms; Cassidy stalls, and Kellen tells her to meet his sister.

They knocked at seven in the morning, three polite taps.

I was still in my gown, with the chain on the door and my hair in a wreck.

I texted Maisie two words, "Come now," and opened the door as far as the chain allowed.

Lyle stood there with flowers.

Francine stood behind him in a cream pantsuit with a folder under her arm.

"There's my bride," Lyle said, and gave me his hurt, handsome look. "You ran away from me."

"I had a headache. I didn't want to ruin your night."

"You ruined nothing, sweetheart. You frightened us."

I took the chain off.

He kissed my cheek, and my skin went cold under his mouth.

Francine came in and sat on the bed with the cane across her knees.

"Cassidy, dear. That young man who danced with you."

"Kellen. He's an old friend of the Barnwell Cup."

"Funny. Lyle knows everybody at the Cup. Neither of us ever heard of him."

"He crewed the committee boat," I said. "He doesn't go to dinners."

Francine smiled.

"Well. I won't pry." She held out the folder. "Now. A little housekeeping, so we can enjoy the honeymoon."

I took it and opened the first page.

It was a deed.

My father's handwriting was on the old one, the marina, the dock, the boat shed, the land under it all.

This one had my name crossed out.

In its place was "Cassidy Barnwell Manigault and Lyle Manigault, jointly."

"It's only a wedding gift to each other," Lyle said warmly.

"Mother's lawyer drew it up. You just sign at the bottom."

Mother's lawyer.

I filed that away.

"It's a lot of paper for seven in the morning," I said.

"Then we'll do it over breakfast."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

I looked straight at my husband and gave him the sweetest smile I owned.

"My father made me promise that nothing about the marina is signed until his old lawyer reads it."

"He said it on his deathbed. I can't break that."

Silence.

Francine's hand tightened on her cane.

"Surely it's a formality," she said.

"I'll have him read it Monday." I closed the folder.

"I'd feel awful breaking a promise to a dead man on the first day of my marriage."

Lyle's jaw moved.

Then, a beat late, his face softened.

"Of course," he said, and kissed my forehead. "We wouldn't dream of it."

Behind him, someone knocked hard on the open door.

"Cass?" Maisie said. "Who are these people in your room?"

She stood in the corridor in her sailing windbreaker and bare feet.

Her hair stuck up on one side, and she held a coffee in each hand.

She was five feet tall, and she took up the whole doorway.

"Oh," she said, looking at Lyle. "Right. The husband."

"Maisie," Lyle said smoothly. "How lovely."

"Is it?" She walked in between them and handed me a coffee.

She plucked the folder out of my hands.

"I'll hold this," she said. "My uncle is a banker. His whole family holds things for a living."

"That's private paperwork," Francine said.

"I'm a very private person," Maisie said.

Lyle laughed, tight.

"We'll let you rest, darling. Brunch at eleven?"

"I'll call you."

They left.

The door clicked shut.

Maisie sat on the edge of the bed and stared at me.

"Okay," she said. "Whatever is happening, I'm already on your side. Start talking."

I told her everything.

The corridor.

The power of attorney.

The wires on Monday.

"No baby." The man in the bar.

She did not interrupt once, which for Maisie is a miracle.

When I finished, she put down her coffee.

"I'm going to kill him," she said.

"No. We're going to ruin him."

"That's less fun but more legal."

"Call your uncle at the bank," I said. "Nothing moves out of my accounts unless I say it on the phone, in my own voice."

"Today," I said. "Quietly."

"And then?"

"And then I find out who he is."

She looked at the folder in her lap.

Then she looked at my phone on the pillow, where the last text from an unknown number was still lit.

"Who's K?" she asked.

I didn't answer.

I picked up the phone and called it.

He answered on the first ring.

"Are you all right?" Kellen said.

"My husband came to my door with flowers and a deed," I said.

"You looked at him last night like you knew him. Who is he?"

The line was quiet.

I could hear water behind him, and gulls.

"Not Manigault," he said at last. "That isn't the name he gave my sister."

My coffee went still in my hand.

"Come to Shem Creek," Kellen said. "Come alone. And meet her."

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