Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 163802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 655(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 655(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
He busted up. “I hear that a lot, and I tell those families the same thing I’m telling you. Even your parents relied on teachers, babysitters, nannies, and relatives for help when they were raising you. So why should you feel guilty about needing help to care for them?”
“Huh.” I rocked back, blinking at him. “I never thought of it like that, but that’s an amazing point. I wish I had that comeback ready when I was fourteen and Omma told me if I ever dared put her in a home, she’d write me out of the will. I should’ve been like, this from the woman who never met a nanny she didn’t like!”
Reynard laughed so hard he doubled over.
I liked him. He was a jovial man and he thought I was much funnier than most people did.
“She needs to rest,” I said. “I’ll be back later.”
Making for the door, I flicked to the opposite side of Omma’s bed to her nightstand—wondering what made the click that Alex was so desperate for me not to notice, he evaporated from the spot as quickly as he could.
Chapter Six
“Mrs. Kim?”
I raised my head, setting down the magazine. A prim and proper gentleman in a brown suit and large glasses flashed me his best professional smile.
“Right this way, ma’am, the manager can see you now.”
Standing up, I smoothed down the vintage designer dress I found at the back of Sue’s walk-in dream closet. It was an old-school, off-the-shoulder, little-black-dress Chanel. A gorgeous piece, but I was surprised Sue owned it. I was the one into cute, funky, vintage clothes.
Sue was into turning up her nose at pre-owned clothes. When we were teens, she wouldn’t be caught dead clothed in something some random had farted and sweated in.
But I guess even my sister is allowed to change. I followed behind the gentleman, passing under the tinkling, gold chandelier. Although, not that much. She still settled for nothing less than the finer things.
After leaving Omma to rest and have her breakfast, I showered, changed, then found myself in the back of a stranger’s car, paying them to take me to the bank whose logo I read on all the financial documents I found in Sue’s desk.
Swanky was the first word that came to mind when I walked into Lantana Private Bank.
No one had to tell me this bank catered to the ultra-rich of Lantana. I figured that out myself when the attendant looked me up and down at the door, clocked my designer dress and purse, made me produce ID before taking another step inside, and then guided me to a gold-and-blue waiting area with plush leather seats, financial magazines, and a selection of herbal teas for me to drink while I waited for the manager to receive me in the personal client room.
He swept open the door for me, actually bowing and gesturing for me to enter.
I wasn’t sure if he bowed to all the clients, or just the Asian ones, but I doubt that added layer of deference made the huge account minimums, and even huger account fees, worth banking here.
I’d have done just fine with the rinky-dink, two-manned credit union down the street.
“Good morning, Mrs. Kim.” The manager rounded the desk and pulled the chair out for me. When he bowed to me too, I knew it was an Asian thing. “Lovely to see you again. What can I do for you today?”
I relaxed in the armchair, fighting not to gape at the extravagance around me. Ten years of poverty made me forget what it was like to sit in rooms with expensive artwork on the wall, custom mahogany antique Victorian desks, stained glass windows depicting the life and laughter of dancing mermaids, and a desktop computer I couldn’t afford even if I sold my eggs.
“Good morning,” I greeted. He didn’t tell me his name, and I didn’t ask for it. He obviously knew Sue, and giving away that I didn’t know him would be a major red flag. But he did look exactly like how I pictured the guy who managed a bank for the uber-rich.
Like the Monopoly man.
“I don’t want to take too much of your time,” I said. “I’m here for a complete financial review of all of my accounts, and then I want the total of all of those accounts to be transferred to another bank.”
“Very well,” he replied, not blinking twice at the request. “We can certainly take care of that today. First, if I may, I’ll need to take you through the security questions and reconfirm your identification.”
I replied yes also without blinking twice.
Mother’s maiden name? Knew that.
Street I grew up on? Check.
Name of first pet? The hamster was named Henri until Sue went days without feeding him, and I saved the poor thing from her and named him Mister Fuzzybutt.