The Millionaire's Tainted Legacy

Too Many Secrets

"Yes," Eleanor said after a moment. "I think I do."

Tito heard the sound of a door closing somewhere toward the front of the house, and a moment later Chloe appeared in the entrance to the room, still wearing her workout clothes and carrying a white bakers' box.

"Sorry to interrupt," she said. "I rode my bike over to the little market. I thought you might want some croissants or muffins so I picked up a selection." She set the box on the coffee table between them, then added two small plates and some napkins from a lower shelf on the beverage cart.

"Chloe, you didn't have to do that," Eleanor said. "I thought you were upstairs doing yoga or studying."

"I know you didn't have any breakfast this morning," Chloe said. "You have to take care of yourself." She turned to Tito. "I'll leave you two alone now, but I'm warning you not to upset her."

"I'm not some delicate flower," Eleanor protested, but Chloe just smiled and left the room.

"Rather protective of you," Tito said.

"She's a good girl. Honestly, having her here has been a blessing, especially since my son died."

Tito felt his jaw clench at the mention of Bradford Thornton, but said nothing.

She glanced down at the selection of baked goods. "I've sponsored a number of students over the past few years. I know it's to help them out, but I think I benefit more from the companionship."

Eleanor selected a small poppy seed muffin and set it on her plate, but made no move to actually eat it.

"You asked me why now, and I haven't answered you yet. I think it might be best to go back to the beginning."

When she reached for her glass of water, Tito noticed that her hand slightly trembled. He was not going to feel pity for this woman, sitting here in her multimillion dollar estate, while his mother had spent years barely making ends meet, and constantly worried that she wouldn't be able to pay all the bills and that they could end up on the street. It would have taken so little money to make a difference for the young, single mother who worked two jobs and struggled to put food on the table and find daycare she could afford. It had been ten really hard years, until she met and later married the man who became their stepfather and lifted them out of poverty to a middle class life and, for the first time, the promise of a future.

Even though it wasn't necessarily logical, Tito couldn't help but believe that if his mother hadn't had to struggle and worry so much in those early years, maybe she wouldn't have ended up dying so young of cancer while he was in prison. Any money Eleanor was spending now on donations to OFC and purchasing Maria's artwork was just too late. Where had she been when they really needed her resources?

"You see," Eleanor began, settling back in her seat, "it was my husband who was not pleased when Bradford began dating your mother. They were in high school, but, of course, you already knew that. She was a gifted artist. I see where your sister gets her talent."

"She was on scholarship to that fancy school your son attended," Tito said.

"That's right. As I was saying, I thought she was a lovely girl. My husband disapproved, which I found rather ironic, both then and now." She leaned forward slightly. "My husband came from a well-to-do family, but did not have the kind of generational wealth and privilege that I grew up with. That came from the Bancroft's, my side of the family. I have to say that when Bradford - my husband's name also," she said as an aside. "When Bradford and I became involved my family and most of my social circle considered that I was marrying beneath me, and opposed it rather strenuously. But they came around eventually. My husband make a very good living as an attorney and he invested money well, both his and some of my own. Eventually everyone forgot about his roots, including, apparently, him.