Free Her Man Friday by Elizabeth Bevarly Page A

him, poverty had been a constant companion of Schuyler's, from the day he was born. She, on the other hand, had enjoyed all the benefits of excessive wealth until shortly after her sixteenth birthday, when her father's business had failed—miserably—and the Main Line Rigbys had lost everything. She and Schuyler had often joked about how they'd both come from entirely different backgrounds only to end up in exactly the same place—with less dollars than sense.
    In spite of that—or, perhaps, because of it—he had always placed infinitely more importance on money than she ever had. He had determined early on that he would make a fortune someday that was truly obscene, and that he would spend it entirely, frivolously, selfishly on himself. Lily, in turn, had pointed out that the billions he intended to keep as his own, the billions with which he intended to indulge himself so shamelessly, could instead be used to feed and clothe and make warm people who needed and deserved it far more than he did. But whenever she reminded him of that fact, Schuyler had always scoffed at her, had always responded the same way.
    "Lily. Darling," he had always said on those occasions. "Someday, if someone puts billions of dollars into your hands, then you can take it and spend it on all the bleeding-heart social programs you want to spend it on. But until that day comes…" He had always left his statement unfinished, his meaning clear.
    And always, in response, Lily had offered up the same reply. "Fine, Schuyler," she had always told him then. "Someday, if someone puts billions of dollars into my hands, then maybe I'll do exactly that."
    Her steps slowed as she thought again about Leonard Freiberger and the work he claimed to be doing here at Ashling. And for just the briefest, slightest, most faltering moment, something else to worry about nudged its way into her brain. And for that moment, Lily wavered a bit in her conviction.
    No, she finally decided. Mr. Freiberger would never uncover all of that. Although she still questioned his reasons for being at Ashling, whatever he was up to, Lily could handle him.
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Chapter Five

    Although he would have sworn such a thing would be impossible, Leo's second day at Ashling turned out to be even stranger than the first. Not just because he was slowly coming to realize that Schuyler Kimball's files were, as Miss Rigby had readily assured him, a mess—even for an eccentric billionaire—but because Leo met the rest of Kimball's family and constituents, starting with the illustrious, the mysterious, the felonious… Chloe.
    "I'm up!" a female voice shouted from outside Kimball's office as Leo struggled to break into one of the billionaire's many booby-trapped personal files. "Lily?" the girl continued, her voice moving into double-digit decibels. "Did you hear me? I said I'm
up
!"
    She rounded the office door just as she shrieked out that last bit, coming uncomfortably close to shattering Leo's eardrums. The potential loss of hearing, however, didn't concern him nearly as much as the prospect of being arrested did. Arrested for the crime of… of… of being in a room with a minor who wasn't dressed the way a minor should be when she was in a room with a man who wasn't a minor.
    Or something like that.
    Because Chloe, in addition to being all the other things Leo had begun to suspect she was, was also, evidently, an exhibitionist. Fourteen, he reminded himself as he took in her attire. She was only fourteen years old. That didn't stop her from dressing like a Frederick's of Hollywood model, though. Or perhaps, more accurately, undressing like one.
    Normally, Leo would consider something like red vinyl, platform thigh boots to be pretty much the focal point of a woman's ensemble. Unless, of course, they were paired with the other thing that Chloe—almost—had on. What appeared to be a dress was made—sort of—from something brief and purple that looked like what Leo's sister called crochet. From