with the heels of his palms. “God, Jess. Yes. I mean that, too. Yes. Please don’t mention that to me, for entirely different reasons.”
I laughed, this situation we found ourselves in beyond weird. Usually when a man and a woman were friends, one of them wanted to bang the other, and they didn’t because they were friend-zoned. This was the first time I knew of that both parties were struggling to maintain a friendship despite both of them wanting more. Why did I always do things ass-backward?
“Actually, I’ve been wondering about my financial situation…” I checked the spell, making sure it was holding firm around us. This particular spell was sensitive, and an errant fingernail or piece of hair could render it useless. “Here’s the thing. Ivy House is apparently worth a lot of money, and the heir can use that money as long as she is alive. She can’t pass it on, but she can use it while she has it, basically. At the moment, Mr. Tom manages all of that. He insists on paying for everything. I have no idea how much I have, let alone if there’s frivolous spending within the household. Like…how much is Edgar spending on flowers? I never thought that would be a concern, but…”
“Definitely a concern,” Austin said.
“Yeah. It’s like Mr. Tom is trying to keep it from me. It isn’t really mine, and I have my own money, so I haven’t been too pushy about it, but it’s starting to feel…off. I don’t know what to do. How do I broach the subject? I assume he’d never try to embezzle, but…well…”
Austin leaned back, like he was uncoiling, before lying down behind me. He pulled me back to lean against him, as though he hadn’t just declared that we should keep our distance.
“You’re thinking like a Jane,” he said, “and he clearly hasn’t explained how it works in the magical world for someone in your situation. Mistresses of great fortune, which is what you are now, are considered above handling their own daily affairs. You do not pay for things; you instruct your servant to pay for things. You do not carry your purchases; you do not drive yourself; you do not do anything that someone else could easily do for you. If you want to know more about the finances, ask him to bring the ledgers to your office or wherever. That’s where he tallies the expenditures and totals and whatnot. You can make changes, and he’ll see to it.”
I digested that for a moment. “The ledgers… When you say ledgers, I’m thinking large volumes with handwritten computations.”
“Probably, yeah. Earl is old. He probably does things the traditional way.”
“So that’s the first thing to go.” I frowned, the light starting to dwindle, the wine starting to make my thoughts peacefully fuzzy. I thought back to the countless times Mr. Tom and I had passed the great old office together. What with its bulky furniture, the quills sticking out of inkpots on the desk, and strange abstract paintings on the wall, it had never appealed to me. He’d recommended that I head in there once in a while and “see to things.” I’d thought he was referring to the outdated decorations. No thanks. Now, however…
“I wonder what other little things I’ve missed because he hasn’t come right out and told me.”
“Probably a lot. You should mention it to Niamh. She’s a lot less hung up on formality. She’ll figure out what’s needed and let you know.”
I ran my bottom lip through my teeth. “Good tip.”
We stayed until sunset. I took over pouring the glasses and he continued to lie on his side, pulling me back against him when I wasn’t grabbing food or drink. The day waned, the sun painting the landscape a dark amber before we finally packed it in and headed home, Mr. Tom taking the remains of the picnic and Austin carrying me as I twirled my fingers within his soft fur. Once back at Ivy House, I did a quick mental check to see where everyone was within the house—my dad up in bed, my mom reading in the front room, Mr. Tom already back and in the kitchen, some of the gargoyles at windows, some stationed in rooms, and Edgar still down in the cavern below the house with the crystals, working day and night to get answers for me.
“I’ve always just assumed that vampires sleep, but…do they?” I asked Austin as he dressed within the trees. He