by Claire Adams
“Okay,” I said, but he’d already hung up.
I hung up the phone and just stood there, replaying the conversation. My dad was dead? No fucking way. My dad wasn’t that old. He was in good health. Yeah, he might’ve had stress to deal with, but everyone did, right? And it didn’t kill us.
But I knew it wasn’t a joke.
A few minutes or a few hours might’ve passed; I wasn’t sure. I just stood there, the words Dad is dead? playing on repeat. It didn’t seem possible.
I called Alfie. “Hey, man,” I said. “Listen, I’m not going to be able to meet up later. I’ve got to get back to New York.”
“Huh?” Alfie said. “Where are you going? You just got here.”
“I know. My dad is dead,” I said. “I just found out. I have to go back to New York.”
“Aw, shit man, so sorry. I’d give you a hug if I was there in person. Really terrible news, mate. Is there anything I can do?”
“No, it’s cool, bro. I’ll be in touch.”
After I got off the phone with him, I called Anders. He was in Vermont with his wife; his daughter was about to give birth to their first grandchild.
“I just got the news about your father,” he said. “I’m really sorry, Levi. Listen, I can leave now and drive back to New York—”
“No, no,” I said. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll just fly commercial back.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, of course. Don’t worry about it, okay?”
“If you’re sure,” he said, in such a way that made it sound as though he weren’t sure. Which I didn’t know how to take. Was he implying he didn’t think I could fly on a regular flight like anyone else? That was bullshit. After I got off the phone with him, I went online and bought myself a ticket back, flying coach, a middle seat toward the back of the plane.
8.
Isla
In terms of business, I was fucked; that was the simple, succinct way of putting it.
Even if Wes paid back all the money he’d “borrowed” from the business account tomorrow, we’d only just have to enough to pay Tim and take care of getting the gym back ready to open. We wouldn’t be able to cover salaries or the mortgage and utilities. And in the long-term, there was no way we could compete with Fitness Universe, anyway.
“So the only option is to close,” I told Sophie. I was sitting in the chair at the salon she worked at, getting a trim. I didn’t really need a haircut, but I wanted to talk to her in person and she had a client cancel at the last minute so she told me to come and take her spot.
“The whole thing really sucks.” She ran the comb through my damp hair and made a few snips with her scissors. “I’m really surprised about Kelly. Well, wait, maybe not. She was always a little too boy crazy, so of course she’d do something like that for a fuck stick like Wes.”
“Sophie.” I looked around, but the chairs closest to me were empty, and the only other person in the salon was sitting under one of the big domed hair dryers.
“What?” Sophie said. She looked at me in the mirror. “You know I’m right.”
Sophie, Kelly, and I had all grown up here in Bel-Air. We met in kindergarten, and remained friends throughout middle school and high school, even when I moved away sophomore year to live with my mom’s new husband. I’d lucked out with them; they were popular and beautiful and were definitely part of the “in” crowd at school, but they were also my two best friends, and I knew I could count on them for anything. Well, except for not draining the bank account because of a hot new boyfriend, apparently.
“So here I am, twenty-eight and basically unemployed,” I said. “At least my hair will look good.”
“Your hair is going to look more than good. And if you’re really going to close . . . I don’t know, maybe you could work at Fitness Universe.”
“Do you really think I’d want to work at a place like that?”
Sophie shrugged. “You might? You won’t know if you don’t give it a chance.”
I scowled. “Okay, Mom.”
“Hey, I’m just trying to make you feel better. And you really might not mind it. You’d still be able to help people stay healthy and get in shape, which I know is important. It might be nice to just be an employee, too. You won’t have all that added responsibility that comes with owning a business.”
“I guess I’m just not cut out of that sort of thing. I mean, if I were, wouldn’t I have made certain all my bases were covered? Wouldn’t I have had flood insurance? Wouldn’t I have called the plumber the second I noticed something wasn’t right in the bathroom?”
“Don’t beat yourself up over things that have already happened, Isla.”
I watched my reflection in the mirror. I knew she was right and I couldn’t change the past, but that didn’t make it any easier of a pill to swallow.
After I left Sophie’s, I went home. I was getting changed into my clothes to go for a nice long run when the phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, but I picked it up anyway. “Hello?”
“Is this Isla Lucas?”
“Yes,” I said. I didn’t recognize the voice, but he sounded rather serious, whoever it was. “Who’s this?”
“My name’s Daniel Frederickson; I’m Alex Bassett’s attorney.”
“Alex?” I said. Why was my stepfather’s—I mean, ex-stepfather’s—attorney calling me? “Is everything all right?”
“Alex was your stepfather, correct?”
“He and my mom were married, but they got divorced. It was a while ago. But yeah, he was my stepfather.”
“Well, I’m sorry to have to be the one to inform you of this, but Alex passed away on Monday.”
“Oh no,” I said. There was a sinking feeling in my chest. It had been a while since I’d last talked to Alex, maybe six months or so, but we’d still kept in touch all these years, even after he and Mom had gone their separate ways. “What happened?”
“Heart attack. He was under a lot of stress.”
“I’m sure he was. Well, thank you for calling to let me know. I’d like to go to the funeral.”
“Yes, I assumed. The funeral will be held at St. Ignatius Loyola on Saturday. Since you’ll be in the area, would you be able to come by my office for a brief meeting?”
“A meeting?” I said. “Is that really necessary?”
“Yes. There’s a few things I’d like to go over with you, concerning Alex’s living trust.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t know anything about that,” I said. “Like I said, Alex used to be my stepfather, but he’s not anymore. And besides, he never talked to me about that sort of stuff, anyway. I’m not even sure what a living trust is, to be totally honest.”
“Would you be able to meet on Friday afternoon?”
“Um, sure, I guess,” I said. What day was it? Wednesday?
“Great. We’re on 5th and W 44th Street. Does two o’clock work?”
“Okay,” I said, even though my head was spinning. What was he talking about? Why was I going to a meeting with him?
“All right then, Ms. Lucas, I look forward to our meeting. Goodbye.”
And then the line went dead.
I stood there for a moment, just staring at the phone. Everything seemed to be happening too quickly for my brain to process. Alex was dead? I took a deep breath and called my mom.
“I have some bad news,” I said when she answered.
“Brian broke up with you?” she said immediately.
“What? No! Well, yes, but that’s not the bad news. And actually, no, he didn’t break up with me—I broke up with him.”
“Why? When? What happened? He was such a nice—”
“Mom! That’s not why I’m calling! That has nothing to do with the bad news. Alex is dead.”
“Alex?”
“Yes, Alex Bassett, your ex-husband. Remember him?”
“Of course,” Mom snapped. “I was the one married to him, after all.” She took a deep breath. “What happened?”
�
�He had a heart attack.”
“Who told you? Did Levi call you?”
“No,” I said. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d talked to Levi, which was just fine in my book. I’d been overweight as a teenager and he’d taken special delight in making fun of me whenever he got the chance. “Alex’s lawyer called.”
“His lawyer?” I could hear the suspicion in Mom’s voice. “Why was his lawyer calling you?”
“I don’t know. To tell me, I guess? I told him that I wanted to go to the funeral, which is this Saturday. But he said that he wanted me to meet with him at his office on Friday afternoon. Something about a living trust.”
“Hmm.” Mom was quiet for a minute. “I don’t know if I like the sound of all this, Isla. Why would Alex’s lawyer want to go over something with you about that? Unless of course he left you something. Which I suppose wouldn’t surprise me.”
“I doubt he left me anything,” I said. “Why would he? I’m sure there’s plenty of other people he could have left things to.”
“I can’t think of another reason why you’d need to go have a meeting with his lawyer.” Mom took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “I guess you’re just going to have to go to this meeting to find out.”
9.
Levi
“Aside from BCM, which your father has left to you,” Daniel said, “he had about three billion dollars in additional assets, in the form of stocks, bonds, equity securities, rental properties, land, and cash. He’s left two billion of it to you.”
I nodded, still trying to wrap my head around everything that Daniel was saying. I’d been back in New York less than twenty-four hours. Basically, the short version of it was: my father had left everything to me, despite our last conversation being about him cutting me off.
“Who did he leave the other billion to?” I asked.
Daniel looked at me as though he disapproved of my question, though I wasn’t asking because I wanted it; I was just curious. I also couldn’t think of anything else to say in regards to the news he’d just told me.
“Isla Lucas,” he said. “Your former stepsister.”
Now that was actually a shock. “Isla? Are you serious?”
“Yes. That’s exactly how it’s been outlined in your father’s will. He was quite clear, in fact.”
“Huh.”
I hadn’t thought of Isla in a really long time. In fact, the last time I thought of her was probably the last time I’d seen her, when her mother and my father finalized their divorce and they moved out of the penthouse. I remembered Isla lugging some duffel bag of stuff down the hallway. She’d been struggling with it, but I hadn’t offered to help.
“You sound surprised.”
“I’m a little surprised, I guess. I didn’t even know that my father still talked to her. He never mentioned it to me.”
“Your father tried to mention quite a great number of things to you that you generally had very little interest in hearing about. Perhaps he did try to mention it to you, but you were too busy living your hedonistic lifestyle.”
I smiled. I knew Daniel didn’t like me, I knew Cal wasn’t fond of me, and I could just imagine how they were taking this news that most of what my father owned had been left to me.
10.
Isla
In a way, it was a good time to go to New York.
As I drove away, I let myself imagine that I was driving away from all my problems, that when I returned they would have magically disappeared. When I got into the city, I parked in a nearby parking garage, checked into my hotel, and then looked on Google maps to help me find the address Daniel Frederickson’s office.
It was weird being back in the city. I was not a city girl by any stretch of the imagination, and when I’d first moved here with Mom, I’d been wide-eyed with both awe and shock. Just the sheer amount of people, the height of the towering buildings, the frenetic energy of it all. I’d been away from the city long enough to forget how that felt, and as I walked to the lawyer’s office, I could feel myself getting swept up in all of that again.
I found the office easily and went inside, taking the elevator up. A man in a suit and wire-rimmed glasses was standing there, as though he were waiting for me. I was surprised when he introduced himself as Alex’s lawyer. I figured he would’ve had an assistant have me sit on a couch and wait a few minutes for him.
“Nice to meet you, Isla,” he said, smiling as he held out his hand to me. “I’m Daniel Frederickson.” I shook his hand, hoping my palms weren’t too sweaty. We were on the twenty-seventh floor of a high rise, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of vertigo every time I looked out one of the windows. How did people actually manage to work in a place like this? “Why don’t we go into my office and have a chat.”
I followed him down a short hallway into a corner office with big windows. The walls were adorned with classical paintings in big, gold-gilded frames. The ceiling had fancy crown molding, and the whole place felt more like an art exhibit than a lawyer’s office. I sat in a leather wingback chair and Daniel went around and sat behind his desk.
“So, let’s just get right to it,” he said. “Alex has listed you as a beneficiary. He’s left you quite a large sum of money. One billion dollars, to be exact.”
I blinked, certain that I’d heard him wrong. “Pardon?”
Daniel smiled. “This is the kind of news that I like to deliver. Yes, Alex left you one billion dollars. Congratulations.”
“A billion dollars?”
“A billion dollars. Might I suggest that you hire a financial advisor? It’s quite a bit of money, and if you’re not accustomed to dealing with such a large sum, I can imagine it’s rather overwhelming.”
“I don’t even think I have a thousand dollars in my savings account,” I said. “And now you’re telling me that I have a billion dollars.”
“That’s what I’m telling you. He left it in a living trust, as opposed to a will, so you don’t have to deal with going through probate. The funds can be available to you almost immediately; Alex’s business associate, Cal Illes is the successor trustee, so he is the one with authority to transfer the funds to you. I told him we could arrange another meeting at some point.”
I nodded. “Okay. Sure. That sounds fine.” I kept waiting for someone to deliver the punchline, for Daniel to start laughing and say that it was all a joke. But he didn’t.
After I left Daniel’s office, I stood outside on the sidewalk, trying to get my bearings back. I was glad to be back on the ground floor, that was for sure. I pulled my phone out of my purse and called Sophie.
“So how’d it go? What happened?” she asked.
“You’re not going to believe this,” I said. “In fact, I don’t even think I believe it.” I paused, still unsure I could actually put words to it.
“Well, I won’t if you don’t tell me!” she said.
“He left me money.”
“I knew it.”
“A lot.”
“How much is a lot?”
“It’s . . . he left me one billion dollars.”
“A million dollars?! Wow! Isla, that’s awesome, you’ll be able to pay off the gym and maybe do some investing—”
“No, not a million. A billion. With a b.”
Silence. Several seconds of it, which, for Sophie, was definitely saying something.
“Did you just say a billion, with a b?” she finally said.
“Yes, with a b. A billion.” I didn’t know if I was going to jump for joy or burst into tears. Maybe both. I leaned against the side of the building. “I’m having a hard time believing it myself.”
Sophie let out a yell, so loud that I had to pull the phone away from my ear. When I put it back up, the yell had transformed into laughter. “Oh my god!” she was saying. “I can’t believe this! You lucky bitch! This is like out of a movie or something! Holy shit, Isla. Your ex-stepfather has just made you a billionaire. Wow. Does your mom know?”
“No, I haven’t told h
er yet. Well, she knew I was coming here and having a meeting with one of Alex’s lawyers, but she didn’t know.”
“Holy shit. She’s going to freak.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I know.”
My mother had met Alex when I was fourteen; our ninth grade class had taken a three-day trip to New York City and she’d been a chaperone. She was coming out of a bagel shop and he was leaving (or vice versa, the story changed) and one bumped into the other, and it was very Hollywood movie.
So was the fact that he was a billionaire, this CEO on Wall Street, though you wouldn’t have known it that day, because he was wearing a golf shirt and shorts, nothing flashy. And Mom was a secretary, back when they still called it secretary and not administrative assistant. She worked for the town hall, in the building department, which was a decent enough job but there wasn’t a lot of money left over for extras.
And then there was their whirlwind romance, which meant Mom and I moved from our two-bedroom ranch into Alex’s penthouse on the Upper East Side. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced before and I felt as though I were visiting a foreign country.
“I’ll call you a little later, okay?” I said to Sophie. I wanted to go back to my hotel room and have some seclusion so I could absorb this news.
“Yeah, sure,” she said. “I’m so excited for you!”
I put the phone in my purse and was about to start walking when I saw him. My former stepbrother, Levi, strolling down the sidewalk like he owned the thing. I almost didn’t say anything, because I thought he was just going to walk by—and he certainly wouldn’t recognize me—but then he turned at last second and headed for the building. He must be going to meet with Daniel. I wondered if he knew yet that his father had left some of the money for me.
His hand was on the door, pushing it open, but then he stopped in his tracks, his head swiveling toward me. Someone was right behind him, but he didn’t move, he just stood there, looking at me.
