Chapter 250

Andy dropped a kiss on top of Billie’s head and nudged her in the direction of the gathering kids, then turned back to the grown-up section of the library, more subdued in both appearance and noise level, where Scooter had staked out a cluster of reading chairs to wait for Simon.

Scooter’d pulled a couple of books off the shelves and was thumbing through a large book on classic art prints. “Used to do this all th’ time with Jason when he was tryin’ to be an artist. He’d study ‘em for a while and try to make copies.” He flipped a few pages and stopped on a Monet. “He did a rendition of this one once.” He pointed to the work, a woman in a pale pink dress sitting in a field of green. “I wonder if he still has it; he got Mace to pose for him.”

“He any good?” Andy asked curiously, slipping into the chair next to his husband. “I’ve seen some of his drawings—” Andy had one of them, a caricature of Scooter, framed on the wall. “—but the only time I’ve ever seen him paint is when the signs need to be touched up.”

“Not enough to get a scholarship offer,” Scooter said. “Art school’s expensive. The cooking school was cheaper, so he went with that, career-wise. He still sketches sometimes, but I don’t know that he’s done any painting in years.”

Simon walked into the library then, like he wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. He was out of place in one of his flashy bar-owner suits, the sort that looked very good under the low lighting, and a little loud and obnoxious under sunlight. He consulted a pocket watch, and then stopped near the door to the children’s library. He stood there for a long moment, just watching the reading circle.

“Uggggh,” Andy complained sotto voce, “are we really considering sharing our child with a man who unironically carries a pocket watch?”

“How do you ironically carry a pocket watch?” Scooter asked. He flipped another page in the art book.

“I’m not sure, but however it is, he’s not doing it.”

Scooter took a deep breath and blew it out, watching Simon over the edge of the art book. “Look at the way he’s looking at her, and tell me we have the right to tell him no.”

“Baby, if I didn’t agree with you, I wouldn’t be here,” Andy pointed out. “Doesn’t mean I can’t harbor some reservations.” He waited for Simon to look around and waved.

“I have a lotof reservations,” Scooter muttered. He closed the book and put it aside as Simon strolled over.

“Howard,” Simon said, then, “Stahl. This is so…quiet and peaceful. I don’t know that I’ve actually set foot inside a library since I left school.”

“It was suggested by a friend,” Andy said mildly. “Neutral ground. Something to keep Billie occupied while we chat, and a built-in deterrent to shouting.” He grinned a little self-consciously, and waved at the remaining chairs. “Good place for a talk. Have a seat. We thought it’d be good to see how much of this we can settle without resorting to the headache of legal interference.”

“Or the headache of punching one’s way out of trouble,” Simon said, “as my brother is wont to do. I appreciate your restraint.” Simon rubbed at his chin with long fingers. “I’ve never made a bargain for a life. How do we go about this, state what is the most we believe we are reasonably entitled to and argue from there?”

Scooter didn’t bother to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. “Why don’t we start with a common goal—we all want what’s best for Billie, right?”

“While I haven’t experienced it directly,” Simon said, “I understand that children are adaptable. She’s not so old as to be set in her ways. So, what’s best for her is adequate education, shelter, love, and discipline, provisions for her interests, and intelligent friends. Are we in accord thus far?”

“I think so, more or less,” Andy said. “More concerned that her friends are kindthan intelligent, but, y’know, in broad strokes, sure.”

Simon shrugged his shoulders delicately. “They are often the same; the more narrow-minded and small a person, the more prone I have noticed they are to taunting those weaker. Perhaps your experiences are different. My research indicates that she will have to remain in one school system, thus one of us will have primary custody. Unless we decide to remove her from the public system and arrange for tutors, which is certainly well within my means.”

Scooter opened his mouth to say something, his arm jerking, then he subsided. “She still needs friends.”

Andy nodded. “If we decide that public school isn’t serving her well, we can consider some local private schools, but I’d rather not go all the way to private tutors. She’s a very social kid; being around other kids makes her happy.” He considered briefly. “Well, usually.”

Simon nodded slowly. “It does seem we have one issue which we have not discussed at all; Billie will be, in any way we look at the situation, the heiress to a fairly sizable empire.” He sat back to look at Andy, green eyes sharp with interest. “You may have the rest of the city fooled with your casual upgrades and your aging pickup truck, but it takes no great effort to put it together from the gossips up north. I know who you are.”

Andy sighed. “Well, the Johannsons aren’t strictly local. I guess that was going to come out eventually. I’m not part of the company anymore. I was bought out. So she’ll inherit a healthy portfolio from us but not much more.”

“Still, quite a bit more than your average…local,” Simon pointed out. “She will, or should, be raised to that end; she’ll want to be prepared. If the Johannsons claim her as our own, less attention will be drawn to you in those matters.”

Scooter rubbed at his forehead. “Are you ever not a snob?”

Simon didn’t roll his eyes, Andy noticed. But the way he tilted his head, Andy rather suspected he wantedto. “Wealth is an advantage,” he said. “Which she will acquire in abundance, unless something should change dramatically. I suppose, eventually, I might marry and father more children, but even in such a case, she will still inherit a…healthy portfolio.She should know how to use it well.”

“Not disagreeing with that,” Andy said, squeezing Scooter’s knee gently. “But I’m pretty sure every child, of every station, will need to learn how to manage their money. Billie’s lessons will just be of a different nature.”

“We are then mostly in accord with what is best for Billie,” Simon said. “So, I shall place on the table what I would like, and what I believe is reasonable, and you shall tell me what you think of it.” Simon took a deep breath. “I should, first of all, like an alteration to her birth certificate that lists me as father. I will not, however, insist she take on our surname unless that is something she wishes to do on her own, when she is old enough to understand what that means. In the same manner, if she chooses, she can decide if she wants to be a Stahl-Howard, or to remain a Stahl alone. I trust that is not unreasonable.”

Scooter made a grumbling sound in his throat. “If Billie wants to change her name, that’s her business,” he summed up. “I c’n live with that.”

Andy nodded. “And the certificate change is reasonable as well. You’ve already got the medical confirmation and she already knows, so that’s a minor paperwork issue.” He grinned, feeling his stomach twist. “So much for the soft pitches.”

“You greatly mistake me, I’m afraid,” Simon said. His jaw twisted, a little bitter. “For reasons I don’t know, and will likely never discover, Mary-Alice did not want me as a part of our child’s life. It’s galling and infuriating, but that fact exists—”

“—one hundred percent Malice Stahl,” Scooter muttered.