The Love Of Money - S01 E08

Story 2 weeks ago

The Love Of Money - S01 E08

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 8

Inheritance

Busted.

"Um... something like that," I said. I glanced up and down the hall, but no one else was present. When she didn't immediately respond, I continued, "Can I help you?"

Her smile grew a little wider, like she was genuinely amused, "Do you mind if I come in?"

"Oh!" I exclaimed, "Yes! Please!"

Stepping aside, I ushered Mrs. VanCamp inside my apartment and shut the door behind her. She was already shucking off her coat. and I couldn't help but notice she'd changed from the power suit she'd been wearing earlier to a slinky black dress that left her shoulders bare. The back of the dress plunged, exposing an expanse of soft, supple skin. She looked around the room as she held out her coat and gave me a good look at the front of her dress, which plunged delightfully between her breasts, showing a generous amount of cleavage. I reached for it and immediately draped it over the second-hand couch we stood beside.

"Apologies for the mess. I recently lost my roommate."

"Hardly a mess, Mr. Upton," Mrs. VanCamp said as she looked from the rest of the room to me. "There's not much here at all."

"Yeah. My roommate had most of the furniture."

"Well, I'd say that's good timing on our part," she said with a little laugh. "Less to move to a new place."

I wasn't really in the mood to joke about my current predicament. Especially with someone in my house that I hadn't been expecting and had no idea why she was here..

"Why are you here, Mrs. VanCamp."

She stared at me for a long moment, her amusement dropping slightly. "Like said earlier, Helen, please."

"Helen," I tried it out without saying anything else. The moments stretched on and grew increasingly uncomfortable. After a few moments, she looked back around my apartment, taking a few steps toward the center. It looked like I would have to drive this conversation.

"Why are you here?" I repeated.

"Mr. VanCamp sent me to talk to you. He thought that you might feel more comfortable in a less... formal setting. Something a bit more familiar and intimate."

She circled the couch and sat down, all grace and poise while making me feel like didn't belong in my own house. A generous amount of leg flashed into view as she crossed them. I circled the other side of the couch and sat, leaving plenty of space between us while trying my best to portray a level of control over the situation.

"Did you get a second opinion yet?" I got the impression of a cat toying with a mouse. If this was her attempt to disarm me, it wasn't working at all.

"Not yet." I replied, glancing at the table where the binder lay open displaying some of the possessions that were about to become mine. That particular page happened to mention an island.

"What's your hesitation?" She asked, as she adjusted herself on the couch. The space between us disappeared a fraction. "All you need to do is sign the document and you can immediately enjoy your newfound wealth without having to worry about it. You do realize you're the wealthiest man in the world by a large margin, don't you?"

"Yea," I cut her off before she could continue. "I just need time to process this, and figure out what's best for me. No offense to any of you guys, but I don't know you. I don't have a relationship with any of you. I'm sure you were great to my grandfather, but I also bet he was an actual businessman who knew what he was doing. I don't get that luxury. I've managed financials for a while now, and I have some connections at work that might be able to advise me on what to do. And maybe they'll have some great things to say about your firm, but analyzing years of data to see how you guys were doing will take too much time. And if I can't trust the family enough to ask them questions, I'm kind of stuck. What makes me think I can trust you guys to do what's best for me?"

"What do you mean?" she cocked her head to the side and watched me with an unreadable gaze.

"How do I know you guys have my best interest in mind? You

worked for my grandpa. Not me. It's not like I'd never heard of Colin Gerrard before. He was a billionaire who controlled a media empire and owned majority shares in one of the largest holding

companies in the world. I've heard the stories he was a bastard. It

makes sense to me that he'd hire bastards who would feast on me like a bunch of hyenas."

The room fell silent as we studied each other. Finally, she spoke up, "It's a valid concern. I would have the same. So... do you intend on hiring someone else? I can promise you that no one understands your grandfather's estate better than my firm." She adjusted herself on the couch so that her legs were tucked under her, more distance subtly disappearing between us. "Your concern about us mismanaging your estate for selfish gain should keep in mind that any other firm would likely mismanage your estate due to lack of experience." Another smile, "Besides... all lawyers are bastards."

She leaned forward, the neckline of her dress draping forward to show a generous amount of cleavage. A woman as perfect as her made me wonder if she'd had any work done, or if it was all natural. Even this close, I couldn't tell.