Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
I locked the truck up and grabbed her hand as I headed for the front door. Inside was a small empty lobby. The receptionist probably had the day off. Within seconds of being inside, a small man with thick-framed glasses walked out from one of the offices.
“Mr. Banks?” the man asked, reaching for my hand before I’d even answered. “Lewis Concord. I’m glad to finally meet you.”
He looked at Harper.
“Harper White,” she said, extending her hand to shake his. “I’m with the big guy.”
“Nice to meet you, Ms. White,” he said with a smile. “If you’ll follow me—”
“Oh, I’m just going to hang out here,” Harper said quickly, gesturing to a chair. “You guys go ahead.”
“I’ll be out in a minute,” I told her quietly. Part of me wanted to ask her to come with me, things were getting a little too fucking real—but I knew I needed to deal with it on my own. Just knowing that she’d be waiting for me as soon as I’d finished was enough.
I followed the little lawyer into his office and sat down while he closed us in.
“I’ll just jump right in, shall I?” he asked as he rounded the desk. He sat down and opened a file folder. “Ms. Macintosh left you the bulk of her estate—”
“What estate?” I asked in disbelief. “She barely had enough to go to the movies at the end of the month.”
Concord smiled. “Yes, she lived very frugally. However, that was by design. Ms. Macintosh paid substantial amounts into her retirement accounts over the years, planning for the future.”
“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered. Every memory of finances I had was one filled with coupon clipping and searching for deals. We’d never had much extra, but she’d always made sure I had what I needed. If there was something expensive I wanted, Bernice used to put a little away here and there, getting a few dollars back when we were grocery shopping or mentioning that she’d found some cash in her jeans while she was doing laundry. She’d put the cash into a mason jar in the cupboard above the stove, and once we’d had enough, we’d go get whatever pair of shoes or video game I’d been jonesing for. It never took very long to save up, but I’d always been really grateful that she’d helped me save for what I wanted.
I wanted to laugh. Sneaky woman.
“She left you the bulk of her assets, including the house—which was paid off two years ago…”
I tried to focus on what he was saying, but my mind was reeling. Bernice had left more than I’d even realized she had.
“All of Ms. Macintosh’s assets, including the Hyundai Elantra, the house, and all bank accounts, were left to you, with smaller bequests to Arlo Williams and Mateo Green. Mr. Williams has already received his, and Mr. Green’s has been placed in a trust.”
“You’ve seen Arlo?”
My heartbeat thudded in my ears as the past seemed to lunge up and bite me in the ass. Again.
“Yes, I met with Mr. Williams the day before yesterday,” the lawyer replied easily, his gaze on the paperwork in front of him. He opened up a drawer and set a ring of keys on the desk between us. “Of course I haven’t had a chance to speak with Mr. Green as of yet.”
“Why, of course?” I asked numbly as I palmed the keys.
“His incarceration,” the lawyer replied flatly. “While his circumstances do not affect his ability to receive the items bequeathed in Ms. Macintosh’s will, it of course makes notification and logistics a little trickier to iron out.”
The walls seemed to undulate as I stared at Concord.
“So, do you need me to sign something?” I asked, anxious to get the fuck out of there. “How does this all work?”
He walked me through the steps, explaining about inheritance laws and a bunch of other shit that I could hardly follow. With every word out of his mouth, my chest tightened. It was too goddamn much. By the end, Bernice’s house and car keys seemed like they were burning a hole in my palm, and the paperwork in my hands was full of bank account information that I’d have to look at later.
“Do I need to follow up with you on any of this?” I asked, shaking the papers in my hand as I rose to my feet.
“No,” he replied, leaning back in his seat as he eyed me. “I had the pleasure of getting to know Ms. Macintosh in the last couple of years of her life while she made arrangements for what would happen after she was gone. I know she believed—”
“Thanks for all of your help,” I said, cutting him off. For some reason his insinuation that he knew Bernice so well rubbed me the wrong way. He was her attorney, and I was sure that he knew a lot about her life that I never would, but the tone of his voice grated.