Toronto Collection Volume 3 (Toronto Series #10-13)

by Heather Wardell

  We sat without speaking for at least a full minute. I didn't know what to say. Finally, I thought of something. "Why did you tell me?"

  She shook her head. "I don't know. I guess I didn't want you to lose any money to him. I know you're friends and so when he asks you'd probably feel like it was a good thing to do, and I just thought you should know..." She sighed. "Know it wouldn't be good."

  John hadn't asked, hadn't even hinted, and I found it hard to imagine that he would. But if two weeks of interest would fix everything for him, maybe I should offer. "I'm not sure it wouldn't be good, to be honest," I said. "I mean, he works so hard and--"

  "Angela, the man's a black hole when it comes to money," she said sharply. "He got himself into this mess and he should have to get himself out. He could have trashed my credit too, if we hadn't kept all that separate when we got married, and he could have ruined Zack's future if I hadn't had control of his education account. John doesn't deserve to be saved!"

  Her voice grew louder and angrier as she spoke, and by the end I was pressed back against my chair as if the force of her rage were physically smashing me there.

  She shut her eyes for a moment, then opened them again and said, "Sorry. That was unprofessional. I just... well, I thought he was one man and he turned out to be a different one and I found that difficult. Obviously."

  "I can see that," I murmured.

  She sighed. "Look, I thought you should know. What, if anything, you do with it is up to you. Just protect yourself, okay? He could ruin your life too-- I mean, ruin your life."

  No, she'd meant "too". An accountant married to a secretive compulsive gambler might well feel that her life had been ruined when the deception came to light. Her marriage certainly had been.

  *****

  On my way home, my head spun so much I wasn't sure it was safe for me to drive. Everything had been so weird since I won the money, and things just kept getting weirder. I'd never have thought John was a compulsive gambler. Clearly I didn't know him at all. But he hadn't asked me for money yet, even though Tiff had obviously thought he would. Did that mean he wasn't going to, or that he was waiting for the perfect time? I had no idea, and I hated that I couldn't predict what someone I'd thought I knew would do.

  Safely locked in my apartment, after dodging Violet and her crew who were clearly again planning to suggest/command that I buy our building, I collapsed onto the couch and stared at my lovely little trees and tried to figure out what to do. I just wanted to run away. Run far away and relax and let everything soak in.

  A thought struck me. Why, exactly, could I not do that? I'd quit my job, so no problem there, and it wasn't like I couldn't afford to go anywhere I wanted. I hadn't splurged on anything but some clothes and my lovely new long hair, so maybe it was time.

  I'd once been lucky enough at the magazine's Christmas party to win an overnight spa getaway at a place about an hour outside Toronto, and my mind filled with memories of the gorgeous old stone buildings and the peaceful ambiance. Peace. Just what I needed.

  I hauled myself off the couch and found the spa's number, and since not everyone could manage to stay overnight at a spa during a work week I had no trouble booking myself into a luxury suite for the next three nights. I'd go and relax and get away from everything and spend a lot of time thinking so I could figure out how I wanted to be as a multi-millionaire.

  I called Tiff and explained that I'd be essentially incommunicado until Thursday but that if anything significant blew up, especially with the Shane mess, she should feel free to call me.

  "Good for you," she said. "I doubt anything will happen for at least a few weeks there, but if it does I'll be in touch. Have a massage for me, okay?"

  "Will do," I said, then thought maybe she was hinting that I should spring for one for her. I hated that I was second-guessing everything everyone said, wondering if they were grasping at my money.

  Once I'd packed, I checked the clock. John should be up by now, so I could go up and ask if he'd take care of the bonsai in my absence. They'd be okay until Thursday if he couldn't but I'd feel better knowing they were in good hands.

  I sent him a text to ask if I could come visit him, but he replied with, "Apartment's a mess. I'll be right down."

  As I waited for him, I wondered if John's were good hands. Tiff clearly didn't think so, and she knew him far better than I did. Should I ask him about what she'd said?

  When I saw John's face, as relaxed and friendly as always, I knew I couldn't. If Tiff had it right and he was going to try to get money from me, I'd know soon enough. I couldn't bring myself to ruin one of the few 'same as always' relationships I had left.

  "No problem," John said once I'd explained that I'd be away for a few days. "I'll visit them every day when I get up."

  "No, once is fine," I said. "Don't put yourself out that much."

  He tipped his head to one side. "Walking down two flights of stairs and chatting with some trees? It's not exactly exhausting. Besides, I know you like having them checked daily."

  I did, but it felt strange to ask him for help when I wouldn't offer him money. I couldn't say that, though, and he was frowning at my unusual behavior, so I forced a smile and said, "Last time I try not to put you out. Okay, daily please."

  His frown vanished. "Good enough. Where are you off to?"

  "Spa," I said awkwardly, wishing he hadn't asked. "I kind of need a change of scenery. Got a lot to think about."

  He nodded. "I can imagine. Well, have a great time."

  I promised that I would and he left, but as I gathered up my final things and headed to the train station I kept thinking about him. He couldn't be making much money working at a warehouse, even if he got paid more on the night shift. How long would it take him to pay back fifty grand plus interest? Tiff had said it would be wrong to help him.

  Was it perhaps wrong not to?

  Chapter Fifteen

  After the craziness engulfing me since the win, arriving at the spa felt like walking into a warm embrace. The spicy-warm scent in the air, like cinnamon and vanilla and orange, made my lungs feel like they were getting a massage with every breath I took, and the hushed voices and calm demeanor of the staff soothed my nerves and took away layers of stress I hadn't realized I'd been feeling.

  Once I finished unpacking my things in my gorgeous private suite I changed into the fluffy robe I'd been left and went to have the facial I'd booked. I'd never had one before, though I had always wanted to, because they cost a lot. At such a fancy spa they cost even more, but lying in the dimly lit room while the technician gently cleansed my skin and covered it with various gloriously-scented creams and oils and lotions felt amazing.

  My face itself felt even more amazing afterwards, and as I wandered around the spa's gift shop checking everything out I couldn't stop myself touching my cheek to enjoy its baby-smooth texture.

  "Just had a facial?"

  I turned to the shop's clerk, who was smiling at me. "It's that obvious?"

  "Well, your skin is glowing, and you keep patting your own face like it's a kitten. So, yeah."

  I shook my head, smiling. "I can't help it. My skin's never felt so nice."

  "I'd be happy to help you find the products your technician used on you if you're interested in purchasing any."

  From the pocket of my robe I pulled the list I'd been given at the end of the treatment. "Sure, why not?"

  She began showing me around, and I added every last product to the basket she carried. I kept a mental total of the cost at first, but stopped counting when it reached three hundred dollars. That was pocket change for me now. Even Tiff, whose fury with John proved she didn't approve of wasting money, had laughed at the idea of the few grand I'd spent on my shopping spree being a problem. I could buy whatever I wanted here. And I wanted all of these products so my face could feel this good every day. What was the point of having fifty million dollars if I couldn't indulge in a little decadence?

  When we'd finished collect
ing products, the clerk entered them all into the computer. "The purchase will be added to your final statement," she said, loading a large paper bag with my goodies. "Enjoy."

  "Oh, I will."

  As I started to go, a jewelry case beneath the counter caught my eye and I stopped dead.

  "Those rings are neat, aren't they?" She pulled out the case and laid it on the counter. "We call them relaxation rings because you can sit and spin the various parts of them around and let your mind relax."

  I carefully removed a silver ring from the case and held it with my fingertips on the little bands that held the thing together, noticing as I did the price tag of two hundred dollars, then turned each of the skinny rings that made up the whole. They moved easily, and the motion was surprisingly calming. "I like it."

  I was about to say I'd take it when I spotted a bronze-looking one with fancier bands. "Ooh, but I like that one too," I said, pointing.

  She chuckled. "It's hard to decide, isn't it?"

  It was. I didn't have to. "I think..." I said, waiting to see if it felt wrong to spend four hundred bucks on rings. It didn't, so I nodded. "Yeah, I think I'll take them both."

  She didn't seem surprised or shocked. "Why not? Splurge a little."

  Exactly. Why not? All I'd done for myself so far was buy some clothes and a new game system to replace my broken one, and change my hair so people wouldn't recognize me on the street. Most people in my situation would have a new house and new car by now. And probably a pony.

  The clerk added the rings to my account and said, "Would you like them boxed up?"

  I shook my head and held out my hands. "I'd like one on each side."

  She grinned. Cutting off their price tags, she said, "It's good to be balanced."

  "So true."

  With my right hand wearing silver and my left dressed in bronze, I went back to my suite to drop off my skin care stuff then took a nap in my plush bed before wandering off to the rustic stone dining room for a leisurely and delicious dinner.

  The gift shop coaxed me in again after dinner, because I'd had some delicious coconut tea in the dining room that I wanted to take home with me, and I ended up also buying a pair of yoga pants and two tank tops when they caught my eye and fit my body perfectly. An intricate silver bracelet set with opals caught my eye too but its five-hundred-dollar price tag gave me pause since I'd just spent over two hundred on clothes and who knew how much earlier in the day. I nearly bought it anyhow, but at the last second I wondered whether I'd actually wear it so I decided to sleep on it.

  I wore the new clothes to a late-night yoga class before bed, and loved both the way they felt and how calming the class was. All slow moves and gentle postures, it was different from the faster pace of my teacher Emily-Claire's classes but still reminded me yet again of how much I really enjoyed yoga.

  As I wandered, feeling stretched out and loose, back to my suite, I thought in the half-asleep way I'd been thinking since my nap that I should really figure out how to get back to my yoga class on a regular basis. Sure, some people there might want money from me, but I enjoyed the class too much to give it up. Or maybe I could find a new yoga class, in one of the ritzier areas of Toronto where people would have their own money and not be after mine. But either way, I wanted yoga. I missed it, and it was time to get it back. I didn't want or need to change myself that much just because I was rich.

  I had a glass of cool cucumber-lemon water from the pitcher that had been left for me while I was at yoga by some unseen employee, then took a shower with the gorgeously-scented soap provided and carefully cleansed and toned and moisturized my face again, and as I fell asleep between the cool smooth sheets my last thought was, "Maybe I could hire Emily-Claire to give me private lessons."

  *****

  My first thought the next morning was of that opal bracelet, so before breakfast I picked it up along with another two pairs of the super-comfortable yoga pants. A tiny part of me was alarmed at the extravagance, but when the bracelet wrapped around my wrist as if it had been made for me that tiny part went, "Ooh, pretty" along with the rest of me and the alarm faded away.

  That whole day, and Wednesday too, passed as if each had two hundred and forty hours, long and slow and soothing. I had a massage each day, mentally dedicating one of them to Tiff, and a eucalyptus wrap on Tuesday and a mud bath on Wednesday that left me feeling like my muscles had been turned to smooth pliable relaxed mud.

  I'd intended to think through my future and how I would be as a millionaire, but in the pampering atmosphere of the spa I found I didn't want to think so deeply. Instead I drifted around the place, lounging in the common rooms when they weren't too busy and retreating to my peaceful living room when I didn't feel like having anyone else around me, and enjoyed the privacy and luxury my money had permitted me to have.

  In one of those moments in my living room, as I sat before my fireplace playing with my relaxation rings and staring at the flames, it occurred to me that I'd been focused entirely on the bad sides of my windfall, the demanding people and the annoyance of Shane's lawsuit and my fears that nobody would see me the same way. The spa was showing me the good parts, how I could afford anything I wanted now and how I could craft the perfect life, and I promised myself that I wouldn't forget the many reasons my money was great when I went home.

  Eventually, of course, that time came. I reluctantly handed back the keys to my suite and said, "I'm going to miss this place."

  The reception worker smiled at me. "It really is soothing, isn't it? I hope you're taking home good memories."

  "Definitely." I chuckled. "And a few other things too."

  She pulled up my record on the computer, and I saw her eyes widen for an instant before she cleared her throat and said, "Yes, a few. Well, good for you. If you can, why not treat yourself?"

  I'd have thought I'd feel weird about the way my bill had clearly surprised her, but I didn't, and I didn't even feel bad when I had to pay for the over two grand I'd spent on stuff plus the cost of the not-exactly-cheap spa trip. No part of me felt uncomfortable with what I'd done. I was lucky enough to be rich and I'd finally started to enjoy it. And I'd bought huge canisters of the coconut tea for my mom and sisters and a fancy coffee for my brothers and John and right before I checked out I'd gone back and bought a relaxation ring for Claudia because I knew she needed a little peace in her life. So I hadn't just done things for me. I'd been able to take care of my friends and family too without having to worry about the cost.

  Put simply, I felt like a millionaire for the first time, and it felt great. It felt right.

  As I walked out to my car, I heard two ladies ahead of me talking about their New Years' Eve plans and decided to throw the most lavish party I'd ever seen, something worthy of my new status, for myself and for my nearest and dearest.

  We all deserved the best, and I could provide it. So why not?

  Chapter Sixteen

  "Thanks for meeting with me on such short notice."

  Ted gave me his cool banker's smile. "I'm always available to you. So, you need a bank draft?"

  I nodded, and pushed the paperwork toward him. "For this."

  He skimmed his eyes over it. "Lexus. Very good. Now, this isn't their top model, right?" With a tap on the sixty-odd-grand total cost, he added, "Not at this price. Unless you're an amazing negotiator."

  I smiled. "No, I actually preferred the look of this one to the super-fancy one."

  I hadn't negotiated the price at all, actually, but I didn't want to tell him that.

  I'd been driving home from the spa when the car's sleek shape and gorgeous deep blue-black color had caught my eye and I'd turned into the dealership on a whim to see how much it would cost. After a test drive, I'd barely cared what it cost, since the car's smoothness and power made my old car feel decrepit. With an equal mix of excitement and disbelief that I could do something like this, I'd signed the paperwork to buy it in cash and now I just needed the bank draft to go back and finalize the
deal.

  Ted typed at his computer, then murmured something.

  "Pardon?"

  He looked up. "Oh, nothing. I can take care of it."

  I didn't like the sound of that. "Is something wrong?"

  He waved his hand as if pushing away my concern. "With your recent purchases, the bank draft would put you over your limit on your line of credit."

  He went on, saying he could easily raise the limit, but I hardly heard him. I'd spent two hundred grand? I didn't feel like I'd been throwing my money around.

  "How high would you like your new limit to be?"

  "I... have I really spent that much?"

  He studied his screen. "I'm seeing around ninety thousand dollars to a travel agency, and five checks for ten thousand apiece. There was also that transfer we did to your friend's account for fifteen thousand, and then several charges of around one to three thousand dollars each and a final one of four thousand dollars this morning. I can give you the exact amounts if you'd like."

  My parents' cruise, the money to my siblings, the IVF for Terrence and Claudia, and my new clothes and hair extensions and spa trip. I shook my head slowly. "No need, that's all me. I didn't realize it had been so much, though. Maybe I shouldn't get the Lexus." Disappointment flooded me at the thought of not buying the car I already loved. "What do you think?"

  He tipped his head from side to side. "You'll be receiving one hundred and twenty thousand dollars a month after taxes. True, you can't spend two hundred thousand every month, but I doubt you'll be buying a new car and a major vacation every month. Right?"

  "Yeah, that's right," I said quickly. "And I won't be doing the fifteen grand that often either." I hoped not, anyhow, because if I did it again it'd be because the IVF treatment hadn't worked out for my friends. "So you think I'm doing okay?"

  He smiled. "I think you're the most restrained recent millionaire I've ever met. So, shall we raise your limit to five hundred thousand? Or would you prefer a million?"