Final Deposit by Lisa Harris Page B

coffee she was drinking. “I don’t want my father to know about the break-in.”
    â€œLindsey.” Kyle set his hands on the counter across from her while the onions sizzled, filling the room with their pungent smell. “How is that possible?”
    â€œI don’t know.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “I’ll replace the fish tank. The carpet people should be here any minute. I’ll find someone to fix the window—”
    â€œDon’t you think your father should know about this?” He found a bowl and started whipping the eggs. “I think there have been enough secrets. He needs to know what’s happened as a result of his actions.”
    â€œBut the break-in might have nothing to do with Abraham Omah.” Lindsey bit back the unexpected anger that swelled, feeling the need to defend her father despite his actions. “And even if it is connected, my father’s not capable of dealing with this. But I am.”
    A smile registered on his profile. “You always were like that.”
    Her anger deflated like a collapsing balloon. “This still isn’t your problem.”
    â€œYou’re determined to do this on your own, aren’t you?” He folded his arms across his chest while the omelet cooked. “A man whose intentions were far from noble broke into this house last night. Your father’s up to his ears in debt because this Omah guy is trying to take him for everything he’s got. There are pending lawsuits against him. Shall I continue?”
    She stared at the mug. She’d always taken on battles on her own. It allowed her to be in control. Giving situations over to God came hard enough. Trusting another person to help was almost impossible.
    â€œYou don’t have to be a superwoman, Lindsey.”
    Why did his words always seem to pierce straight through her heart?
    She held up her hand. “Okay. I hear you loud and clear. I’m not a superwoman. But I still want to fix this.”
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    Kyle knew she was hurt. Confused. Angry. He knew because he’d been there before.
    He decided to tell her the whole truth. “I didn’t start my own securities business just because I saw a void in the market,” he said, sliding half the omelet onto a plate and handing it to her.
    She stabbed at her plate but didn’t take a bite. “What do you mean?”
    He combed his fingers through his hair. “We were talking last night about Michael.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œI didn’t tell you everything,” he admitted. “About six and a half years ago, he got involved in an Internet scam.”
    Kyle slid in beside her on one of the bar stools and took a bite of his omelet. He’d only told one other person—his business partner, Matt—the truth behind what had happened to his brother. Matt had been the one who’d told him flat-out to quit wallowing and get up and do something. Together they’d jumped into the financial-security arena headfirst, and Kyle had never looked back. Saving others from these disasters honored Michael’s memory and helped ease the sting of his death.
    â€œWhat happened?” Lindsey asked.
    He pushed his breakfast toward the middle of the plate. “Michael was always special. You remember—he was a bit of a recluse and lacked social skills. He even struggled with depression once he started college. The demands were often too much for him. Still, everyone loved him.”
    â€œYes, they did,” she remembered.
    â€œSix and a half years ago, he met a woman online. She was from Ukraine. Within a short time, he showed us photos of a beautiful woman and told us he was going to marry her. About three months into their online relationship, she asked him for three hundred and fifty dollars to pay for a visa to the States. The request seemed innocent at the time. She wanted to meet him in person. He was ecstatic. Next came the plea for an