The Love Of Money - S01 E07

Story 2 weeks ago

The Love Of Money - S01 E07

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 7

"So you can be confident when I say that all of us here in this room feel that you having any sort of contact with the rest of the Gerrard family would be inadvisable."

"Why?"

"They're..." Karl seemed to struggle with being tactful in his response. I guess this was my family despite having never met them, after all.

"Narcissistic and completely lacking in empathy?" The blonde woman interjected.

Karl gave her a sour look, "Helen's out of line, but she isn't wrong."

"Helen?" I asked, looking at the blonde.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Karl said, "This is Helen VanCamp. She's one of our chief legal officers dedicated to the Gerrard account. We're all available to you, but she's one of the most knowledgeable."

VanCamp... I glanced down at her hands and noticed the elegant wedding ring on her left hand, then over at Roger. The man looked to be in his early to mid sixties with a chiseled jaw, salt and peppered hair, and a straight Roman nose set between eyes that felt very perceptive, as if he were cataloging everything happening In his mind palace in case he needed it later. With genes like his and a wife like Helen, this guy had seriously won at life.

Apparently, so had 1.

But something didn't sit right with me. The way Karl seemed hesitant to be straightforward with me or the way I felt Roger VanCamp sizing me up. The whole thing with the family and the fact that I'd been ambushed with this unimaginable stroke of good luck... this all felt too good to be true, and I felt like another shoe was going to drop at any moment.

Still... it wasn't like was going to walk away from this kind of money because I had questions. Apparently it was my money after all.

"Pleased to meet you, Mrs. VanCamp."

Mrs. VanCamp gave me a smile, "Please, Mr. Upton. Call me Helen."

"Only if you call me Marcus." said. Then turned to look at Karl, "Okay. What do I need to do?"

Karl beamed, "Just sign these contracts and we will handle the rest."

He pushed a folder in front of me with a considerable collection of papers inside it. The top sheet showed the beginning of paragraph after paragraph of small print. I flipped through the first few pages to see that it didn't end. Karl pushed one of the most expensive pens I'd ever seen in my life in front of me.

I'd never had much. And in the space of an hour I'd found out that I'd inherited nearly a trillion dollars and was being rushed into signing a bunch of papers without knowing what they were saying. I glanced back up at William and could see him nearly salivating. Roger had a hell of a poker face. Helen simply looked at me with a secret, knowing smile - a predatory look that made me feel one part turned on and one part small rodent.

"So if I don't sign these, I don't get the money?"

Kari looked a little confused, "No... this is just giving us the authority to operate as your legal and financial representation. The money is yours regardless."

I guess that made sense. If it was mine, the lawyers couldn't just keep it from me. But then other questions started to formulate - how was I going to manage something like this without them? Surely I wasn't able to do this myself. There were too many complications for me to just ignore the value of having professional experts, but maybe there was value in getting a fresh pair of eyes to look things over without the benefit of having decades of experience with my grandfather's estate? Half of my department was sure our supervisor was embezzling funds, but she was so familiar with the inner workings of our company and clients that it was hard to prove without some solid proof. Could I be opening myself up to something like this here? I needed time to think.

I shut the folder and looked back at Karl, "Can I have some time to look this over before signing? I just need to make sure this is all legit. You know? Maybe I'll get a second opinion."

Karl's smile tightened, "Of course. Take it home and look it over. Take all the time you need, but I'd caution you to not take too long. It's only a matter of time till very powerful people hear that Colin Gerrard has died and start asking questions. I would also caution

you not to disclose this information to anyone. Do you have any idea how many people would target you if they knew this information?"

Well that wasn't alarming at all. I did my best to keep my panic tamped down.

"That makes sense," I said as I stood up and collected the binder and the folder. I tried to hide the feeling that I was a deer in the headlights as I reached out to shake everyone's hands. All the men had tough, businesslike grips. Helen's was a different matter-firm but gentle. And as shook hers, I could have sworn I felt her thumb rub gently over the back of my hand.

I looked back to William and Karl, "Do you guys mind if I get a ride back to my apartment?"

Friday, 8:23pm

I sat in my tiny apartment and stared at the ceiling, my fingers lazily trailing along the spine of the cat purring contentedly in my lap. Lightning flickered outside, briefly illuminating the sad state of my quarters before it faded into low-light obscurity once more. The roaring that always accompanied it followed a few seconds later. The Irregularity of the assault of lightning and thunder contrasted with the pitter-patter of the rain beating against my window, which was steady and unrelenting. I barely noticed it as I took a sip of the slightly cool beer I'd nursed for the past two and a half hours as I contemplated the possibilities that had been presented before me.

So. Much. Money.

I'd wanted to sign and just start spending immediately. Who wouldn't have? But my lawyers seemed about as altruistic as a panther at a puppy parade, and I was the puppy. I didn't have a clue what I was signing, and I didn't want to obligate myself to people I knew nothing about.

But I had no idea who to trust to look over all this. I didn't know any lawyers. I could have found one, but how did lawyer/client privilege factor in when hundreds of billions were on the line? I had access to well beyond fuck-you money, but I'd seen enough movies and television to know that I could easily get caught up in currents that could suck me under the surface and drown me.

My family would be of limited help. Neither of my parents were Incredibly financially responsible. My youngest brother, Richie, was 19, and all 19 year-olds were notoriously stupid. Jacob was only three years younger than me, but he was a lazy piece of shit who couldn't keep a job longer than 6 months. The few close friends I had were administrative assistants, baristas, and improv coaches. They support me emotionally, but they couldn't exactly help me navigate something like this. And what if dollar signs changed how they felt about our friendship?

A knock on the door pulled me from my deep thoughts. I checked my phone to see that it was 8:30 at night on a Friday. Who the hell could that be? Jack jumped off my lap as I sat my beer down and pulled myself out of my chair.

I approached the door, weaving my way around my belongings scattered across the floor. Jessica had indeed departed, but she hadn't left the apartment in the normally pristine condition I kept it in. Nothing was broken, but things had been thrown around the apartment unnecessarily, a sign she hadn't been happy with me when she left.

"Who is it?" I called through the door once I'd reached it.

The volume of the voice was low inappropriate for someone talking through a door. Almost as if they wanted to prevent drawing attention to themself. "It's Helen VonCamp."

That completely shocked me. The last person I expected to be at my door at 8:30 on a Friday night was the wife of one of the partners of one of the richest law firms in New York. I glanced around the room in horror of the mess I'd let sit around since I got back. Clothes were on the floor, one of my dresser drawers had been completely removed and left upside down next to it. There were a few empty take-out containers on the kitchen counter. Horrified, I backed away from the door.

"Uh... just a minute!" I shouted as I began racing around the small apartment, throwing clothes and clutter into small piles in an attempt to minimize the chaos. I shoved the dresser drawer back in its hole and dumped as much in it before shutting it completely. I tossed the trash on the kitchen counters into the actual wastebasket and gave them a half-hearted wipedown with an oid dish rag before tossing that into the sink. The entire affair took less than a minute and a half.

Then I opened the door to see one of the most gorgeous women I'd ever beheld staring back at me with that mysterious little smile on her face.. Her raincoat was soaked and she carried a dripping umbrella in one hand. She looked me up and down with that same half-amused smile on her face, "Evening, Mr. Upton. Doing a little

last-minute cleanup before you move out of your apartment?"