Combining Riches (Riches to Rags Book 2)

by Mairsile Leabhair

  “George,” Chris smiled at him, “I’m flattered, but it would be deadly dull, and probably ruin your career.”

  “On the contrary. I think it would benefit a lot of people,” he replied.

  I chirped in and said, “Yourself included, of course.”

  “Of course,” he replied, as if that were a given.

  Chris shook her head. “I don’t know, George, let me think on it, all right?”

  “Absolutely. Well, good night, you two.”

  Alone at last, we sat back down on the couch and I plopped my feet up on the coffee table. Chris snuggled into my arms, and together, we sat there, watching the fire dance across the logs as it crackled in the hearth, content in the moment to be still and quiet.

  You Want to Talk About Her, Now? — Melinda Blackstone and Chris Livingston

  “Whew. What a crazy couple of days,” Chris said conversationally.

  “Yeah, crazy and unnerving, too,” I said, sitting in bed, watching her brush her long, thick, silky hair.

  I loved this time of night, where we talked about the day’s events as we prepared for bed. Everything was still outside our window. The cold, rippling waters of the river were illuminated by the waning gibbous moon, thanks to a cloudless sky, and moonbeams glittered off the currents. Inside we were warmed by a roaring fire crackling in the fireplace, and I was warmed by the sight of Chris, smiling. This smile was different. It was new, and it was a smile I had not seen on her before. A smile of confidence and contentment. I wanted to make love to that smile.

  Chris put her brush down and turned off the mirror light, then she came to bed. I held open the blanket and she slid in underneath and laid close beside me, her head on my chest, her arm around my waist. And now I, too, was content.

  I began lightly stroking her bare shoulder, my fingertips already on fire as I touched her creamy-soft skin. I visualized the path my hand would take down her body to that sweet spot that I was already aching to stroke.

  “Melinda,” she said, interrupting my lustful thoughts, “I want to do something nice for Meg, but I’m not sure what. Do you have any ideas?”

  “Meg?” You want to talk about her… now? “Uh, I don’t know, what were you thinking of doing?”

  Chris sat up, much to my disappointment and looked down at me. “What do you think about investing in her agency?”

  “I don’t think much about it, really. I mean, I don’t think Megs would allow it, especially if I were involved.”

  “What is it between you two, anyway?” Chris asked.

  I sighed. “She still thinks that I’m going to bail on you and go back to my old ways, and even if we’re together for a hundred years, she’s always going to think that way.”

  “You both are just being stubborn,” Chris said.

  “Probably so.”

  “But I think you’re right, she’s too proud to allow anyone to own her or be her boss, and that’s essentially what I would be.”

  “Weren’t you going to pay her for finding Clemens?” I asked as I sat up against the headboard and pulled the blanket up around me. “Just write her an extra big check and tell her to invest it how she wants.”

  “That’s a good idea, and I plan to do that, but I doubt she’ll take it.” Chris leaned back against my shoulder, and I wrapped my arm around her.

  “Okay, so, as you said, Megs is stubborn, and—”

  “I believe I said you both were stubborn, missy.”

  I laughed. “All right, we’re both stubborn, but it’s because we both love you.”

  “What a sweet thing to say.” Chris raised her head up and kissed me on the cheek.

  “So, if she won’t allow those kinds of things, then what do you think she would like?”

  “That’s what I don’t know,” said Chris. “I mean, I really want to show my gratitude, so it needs to be something big and memorable, but what?”

  “Here’s a devious idea. Buy the entire floor of her building, put her name as sole owner on the deed, and shove it, uh, I mean hand it to her. She can’t say no to that, because it’s a done deal. And I’ll even help you pay for it if you won’t tell her, because I appreciate her watching out for you after your parents kicked you out.”

  “Yes, exactly why I want to do something great for her. I wonder if my father paid her for that yet. I could easily talk him into giving her a bonus, not that it would come as a gift from me.”

  “Not to change the subject, but I’d like to talk with your father about investing for me. Every time my father gets mad at me, he threatens to disinherit me, thinking I will be scared by that. He’s right, it terrifies me. I’ve had money invested for me before, but it only returned mediocre results. Maybe your father can make me independently wealthy, like he did for Clemens.”

  “Sure, my father would help you. He’s already doubled my pittance of an investment for me. I’m sure he can do the same for you. But I thought you told me once that you had your own money and didn’t need your father’s?”

  “Well, I did, for a while. I, uh, sort of spent most of it on my cars, drugs and women.”

  “Oh… well then, you should definitely speak with my father.”

  “It’s not that I’m broke, Chris. Far from it. It’s just that I want to be independent of my father’s money once and for all, and show him I can stand on my own.”

  “I’m proud of you, Melinda. I’m proud that you want to be your own woman, making your own way in the world.”

  I smiled, feeling proud of myself, and then I realized how insignificant it was compared to what Chris had faced today.

  “Chris,” I whispered.

  “Yes, Melinda,” she whispered back playfully.

  “I am so damn proud of you after today that I could burst into tears right now.”

  “Oh, honey, I love you so much for being there for me. Without your strength, your support through all of this, I would never have had the courage to see it through.”

  “You didn’t need me there, but I’m glad I went, if only to witness you start your new lease on life.”

  “You’re right,” she said, “that’s exactly how I feel right now. Like I’ve been given a new lease on life.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  What to Do With My New Lease on Life? — Chris Livingston, Norma Shelby, and Melinda Blackstone

  “Good morning, Norma,” I greeted Norma in the breakfast nook, after I poured myself a cup of coffee.

  “Good morning, dear. Did you sleep well on that couch last night?” she asked.

  “Oh, you saw that. Actually we did finally make it up to bed and I slept like a newborn baby.”

  “And how do you feel this morning about yesterday’s encounter?” Norma asked.

  I smiled. “I feel so relieved that it’s over with. Like a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders.”

  “I can imagine, dear, and I’m very happy for you.”

  “Is it silly that I don’t know what to think or do now, Norma?”

  “Silly? No. Not at all, dear. I imagine it was all you thought about for a very long time,” Norma said.

  “Oh it was, Norma. It was all I thought about, and now it feels strange, sort of like I don’t know what to think now.”

  “What to think about what?” Melinda asked as she walked in, popping the top on a soda can.

  “I was just telling Norma that I have nothing to think about this morning.” I laughed at the ludicrous way that sounded.

  “Well, think about this. Valentine’s Day is this Saturday, and you need to be prepared for a few days away from home. Norma, you can handle things while we’re away, right?”

  Norma smiled. “Of course, dear.”

  “And I’m sure that George will keep you busy with your biography, so you won’t be alone or bored.” Melinda winked at me and said to Norma, “And just so you won’t embarrass yourself, George is gay, so don’t waste your time trying to flirt with him while we’re gone, okay?”

  Norma blushed. “Oh
my goodness, the things that come out of your mouth, Melinda.”

  Melinda laughed, pleased with herself. I love the way those two have a special bond. Melinda has a way of making Norma feel young again, and that is a precious gift.

  “So where are we going, honey?” I asked casually, hoping I could fake her out, so she would tell me.

  She replied with a grin, “It’s a surprise. One I think that you are really going to like.”

  “Melinda, dear, will you tell it to me?” Norma asked innocently.

  “I don’t know. You once told me that you couldn’t keep a secret, Norma,” said Melinda.

  “Why, I’m sure I don’t know what you are talking about, dear,” Norma said sheepishly.

  I laughed in spite of the secret the two shared.

  “What do you say, Chris? Do you mind if I tell sweet Norma here my little secret?”

  “Oh no, dear.” Norma waved her hand. “I was only playing with you. It wouldn’t be fair to Chris.”

  I laughed. “Oh don’t you worry about me, Norma. Two can play this game, because I’ve got a surprise of my own.”

  “Oh? Do tell, dear,” Norma quipped.

  “If she gets to tell you hers, then I get to tell you mine, Norma,” Melinda whined, which was strangely arousing to me.

  Norma held up her hands. “Now girls, if you can’t play nice, then neither one of you get to tell me.”

  I looked at Melinda, and we both burst out laughing.

  Busy Week — Chris Livingston

  The next morning, I went to see a real estate lawyer that my father knew, about how to buy a floor of a building owned by someone else. I was clueless about the legalities and red tape something like that would require. After a lengthy conversation using legal terms that gave me a headache, the lawyer basically said it would take a long time, with a lot of red tape and end up costing me more than the floor was worth. So, I thanked him for his time, and left. One thing he did suggest was that I buy a house and convert it to a business. The paperwork would be easier and quicker and by next month, I could move in.

  I decided to shelve that idea for now, because I didn’t want to wait any longer to thank Meg properly. Instead, I had another idea that would convey my appreciation as well, just not as dramatically. Meg and Frankie were married last year, and though I’m not positive, I don’t believe they have gone on their honeymoon yet, because Meg was watching over me most of last year. So I decided that I would treat them to the honeymoon of their dreams. I called my mom and asked her to call Meg’s mother, who was Mom’s best friend from when we lived in Collierville before Dad struck it rich. I wanted her to confirm if the newlyweds had been on their honeymoon yet. And I also asked her to ask if Meg’s mother knew where they would like to go. As soon as I hear back from Mom, I’ll make all the arrangements. I’m hoping I can send them off in time for Valentine’s Day.

  Tuesday, I took a cab downtown to get Melinda’s Valentine’s Day present. It is extremely hard to shop for a billionaire, but I knew exactly what I was looking for, and after going to several different stores, I finally found it. Oh God, I can’t wait to see her face when I give it to her.

  My mother called and gave me the lowdown on Meg’s honeymoon. Meg and Frankie didn’t go on one, because of me. I felt really bad about that, but also, kind of glad, because now I can give the two of them the kind of honeymoon they deserve. Mom found out that the two had planned to go to Ireland, so I jumped back in a cab and went straight to a travel agent, who found the perfect place for a honeymoon, the Ashford Castle, in Galway, Ireland.

  The travel agent called the castle’s office and booked the finest stateroom they had for ten days. Fantastically lucky for me, they had had a cancelation for this weekend, Valentine’s Day weekend. I was so excited that I cheered out loud.

  I asked if the agent could arrange a few things for me, like airfare, car rental, special tours, Euro currency and any amenities they have for such occasions. The agent printed out two of those hold the date type tickets and put them in a pocket envelope with a brochure of the castle, so that I would have something to hand to Meg tomorrow. As soon as I finished with them, I called Frankie and asked that she and Meg meet me at my house for lunch tomorrow, and that I wouldn’t take no for an answer. She promised they would both be there, and when she asked if anything was wrong, I told her no, everything is right.

  Wednesday was an especially good day. Meg and Frankie came over as requested, eager to know what was going on, and of course I played that “can’t a friend invite another friend to lunch” card. I had our cook prepare a traditional Irish lunch, which included several different dishes like corn beef sandwiches, and banger burgers, which were unique in that they were half sausage and half beef, with cheese and an egg, and of course Guinness beer. We ate in the family dining room, where I had hung up shamrocks everywhere and had one of my favorite movies, The Quiet Man, playing on the television. Meg asked if it were March already, and I told her sure, why not. After we finished our lunch, I made the big presentation. Only Melinda knew what I was about to do. Meg, Frankie, Norma and George were clueless.

  I gave a short speech about how much I appreciated all that the two women had done for Melinda and me, but especially what Meg had done for me. I told Meg that I could never repay her for the time she sacrificed to make sure I was safe and protected. As I talked, tears streamed down my face, and I finally gave up and just handed the tickets to Meg. She looked at them, then looked at me, and then back at the tickets. Frankie asked her what it was, and she handed the brochure to her. Meg protested at first, but was interrupted when Frankie squealed. There’s no better word for it, she let out a loud, piercing squeal. That was the end of Meg’s protesting. Frankie went around the room, hugging everyone; Norma, George, Melinda and I, and when she was done, Meg held out her arms and hugged me close, whispering how much she appreciated my gift. I told her it was nothing compared to all she had done for me, and that someday I would repay her for it. She held me at arm’s length and chastised me. She informed me that I had already repaid her many times over, by sobering up and starting a new life. Again the tears flowed down my cheeks.

  Thursday, I went shopping again, this time with Melinda and Kate Stana, our new secretary, and her newborn baby. Kate won’t be able to report for work until next week, but in the meantime, we tactfully found a way to buy her clothes, and though it took a little convincing, she gratefully went along with it. Especially when I went a little crazy and started buying baby clothes for her infant. And then Melinda went a little crazy and bought toys that the baby won’t be old enough to play with for four or five years. I thought we were going to have to rent a truck by the time Melinda was finished throwing toys in the basket. All in all, it was a very fun day, especially when Kate asked Melinda to hold the baby, while she tried on a dress. Melinda looked terrified and held the child out away from her, as if the tiny thing was contagious or something. It was the funniest thing I’d seen in a long time. Before we dropped Kate, her baby, and all those gifts off at her parents’ house, I found myself starting to feel that pull all women feel when they’re around babies.

  On Friday, Norma and I called the rehab center to get an update on Richard. I put the phone on speaker, so Norma could hear the report the Director of Nursing gave. It was not a good report, but it was not altogether surprising. They had warned us that Richard would have to go through some major withdrawals first, before he could begin to sober up, and because of that, he was hallucinating about giant spiders coming to eat him. The nurse said it would get worse before it got better for him.

  Norma was visibly shaken up by that and asked the nurse how long he would be like that. The nurse assured her that if Richard could make it through the next two weeks, he would be past the worst of it. I thanked her for the report and hung up. I patted Norma’s hand and she smiled at me.

  “You know, dear,” she said. “There but for the grace of God, go you and I.”

  Busy Week — Melinda Blacks
tone

  I spent most of Monday with the remaining tenants of my father’s building, trying to figure out why they were procrastinating. It was times like that where I missed Chris’s compassionate intellect. I asked myself what she would say to these people to light a fire under their ass. And then I realized that she would tell me to put a sock in it, because they have until June to vacate. That’s one of the things I love about Chris. She can get right to the point and look so damn cute doing it, too.

  When I asked her opinion about why they were reluctant to leave a dump like that, she told me she thought they might be afraid of the unknown. She suggested that I take pictures of some of the apartment buildings that the others had relocated to. That would show them how nice they were, and assure them that rent would be comparable to what they’ve been paying. Sometimes people get comfortable with what they have and are afraid to venture into the unknown. She was right, I did what she suggested and most of the tenants said they would go looking for an apartment as soon as they could. I figured that was procrastination speak for they’ll get around to it eventually, but at least it was a step forward. I just don’t want my father to come along and force the issue, as he is prone to do sometimes.

  The next day, I went downtown and met Carl in his office. I dressed conservatively, hoping to convey my seriousness about needing his help. Growing up in my father’s shadow, I learned a long time ago that if I wanted to be taken seriously, I had to play the woman they expected. I had to be just like my father, a hard ass. But I liked Chris’s father and wasn’t about to disrespect him. I was hoping to earn his respect. Respect for me as a person, not as my father’s daughter.

  Carl had a very nice office, with mahogany and Southern decor, but it wasn’t garish, like my father’s was. I know I really shouldn’t compare the two men, because my father inherited his affluence, just as I had, and Carl created his from scratch. But my father never had a way with people, like Carl does. Then, of course, my father didn’t have to. Carl used his charm to convince people to invest with him, and it worked very well for him.