“And I believe your grandmother expected you to socialize,” she says to Emma before slipping back out into the hallway.
“‘O Captain! My Captain!’” Emma rises to her feet, taking her glass with her. “On my way. C’mon, ex. If we let the wives ogle your ass, I might not have to trade pleasantries for quite so long.”
“That sounds like a whole lot of no fun,” says Matías. “Beck, we need to talk. Sometime soon would be good. I know you said silent partner, but disappearing on me for six months was a little quieter than I expected.”
Beck nods. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Good.”
Only Ethan remains, draining the last of his whiskey. He gets to his feet and rolls his shoulders. “Well?”
“I want the Heritage.” Beck stares back at him, gaze serious. “Outright.”
“Can’t say it’s a surprise.” Ethan’s lips are pressed into a fine unimpressed line. “All right, it’s yours. But that’s all. You’re going to have to earn back the trust of the board and shareholders on your own. Don’t think Emma will help you either, after the mess you left. And remember, I’ll be watching.”
Beck just nods.
Ethan pauses at the door. “Nine o’clock at my office tomorrow morning for the paperwork. Just remember, you owe me. Because I won’t forget.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“This really is an extraordinarily yellow room.”
“You haven’t been in here before?” I ask, opening drawers and cupboard doors, trying to track down my meager belongings. Turns out that being allocated a room also means someone will have already unpacked for you. I’m not sure how I feel about this. My favorite cool battered brown boots look distinctly low class sitting in the bottom of the antique armoire. At least I have my own bathroom attached. If I had to go looking for one in the middle of the night, they’d probably need to send out search parties.
Beck lies back on the grand canopied bed, hands behind his head and legs crossed at the ankle. “Don’t think so. Pretty sure I’d remember this amount of chintz.”
“How many bedrooms does this place have?”
“Only eight or so.”
“Only.”
He laughs.
“So, your fortune is very good indeed.”
“It is after today,” he says, voice subdued once more. “Guess you’re owed a story just about now.”
“That would be nice. I won’t lie; I’m curious as all hell. But if you’re not in the mood, I understand.”
“Sit, then, and let me regale you with a tale.”
“You sound like a bard.” I sit on the end of the bed, getting comfortable, and stare at him. “Beck, if your grandma catches you with your shoes on the bed you’ll be in big trouble.”
“Nuh,” he says. “She’ll just give me the look of disappointment. It’s her majordomo you got to look out for. That man is plain mean.”
Downstairs, the wake is finally winding down. We’d speed walked through the crowd looking for his mother, as per his grandmother’s instructions, but that was as close to socializing as we got. Any snippets of conversation I heard were about art gallery openings and how the dollar was trading. I’ve never felt more like the hoi polloi than I have today. At any rate, his mom, Lise, was nowhere to be found. Beck didn’t seem especially concerned. If anything, he seemed relieved. He mumbled something about her probably deciding to leave early and then let it go. Seems she might be less than dependable when it comes to supporting her son. The woman who’d stepped into our path earlier had disappeared as well, thankfully. There’s been enough drama for one day. Sheesh.
In lieu of dealing any further with his family, he took me on the scenic route to my room, via the kitchen. Here he liberated a tray full of appetizers (figs with bacon and chili were my favorite), two bottles of red wine (Beck is already halfway through the second), and here we are. Alone at last in the room where all things yellow, floral, and expensive come to die, apparently.
Not that I mind. Alone with Beck, having just him and me time, is soul-stirringly good. Watching him, listening to him, I can’t keep the smile off my face. Odd, given that there was a funeral earlier, but maybe we should celebrate life on days like this. If I wasn’t here…in all likelihood, he’d have been hiding out, getting drunk alone in his room right now, dealing with all of this on his own. The mere thought makes my heart hurt. An array of emotions have crossed his