“What would you say if I throw a small party Friday evening?”
Bringing the glass of iced tea to my lips, I take a drink while contemplating him over the rim. “Exactly how small are we talking?” Because small in my book means roughly a dozen people. More of an intimate gathering of sorts.
Even though he shrugs all casual-like, his blue eyes sparkle with humor. Yep, he knows exactly what’s running through my brain. “Maybe a hundred. Somewhere in that vicinity.”
I almost spit my tea across the table. “A hundred? In what universe is that considered small?”
“Two-fifty would be large.”
“I don’t know one hundred people.”
“After Friday night, you will. Which is precisely why we’re throwing this shindig. We need a way to get you back out there again. And this does the job rather nicely.”
From across the table, I make a face. I don’t think I was ever out there to begin with. “Who would you invite?” Total strangers? Randoms off the street?
He shrugs as if the actual guest list is a non-issue. “Oh, some work colleagues. Friends of mine. People who knew your parents.”
He must catch a glimpse of the shadows still lurking in my eyes when he brings up Mom and Dad. You’d think I would be desensitized to it by now, but I’m not. The pain still has the ability to slice through me at the most unexpected of moments. Softly he says, “I thought you might enjoy reacquainting yourself with some of their old friends.”
I force a smile even though it feels like my throat is closing up. I appreciate what Dominic’s trying to do and don’t want to appear ungrateful. “That sounds nice.”
He nabs my fingers and gives them a gentle squeeze. “I’m just excited that you’re here. I think a party would help you meet some new people. It’s not going to be a big, fancy deal. We’re talking casual.”
Although I have no desire to be thrust so quickly into the Chicago social scene, I can’t say no. Dominic has been wonderful to me these past two years. I’m grateful for everything he’s done. Without me asking, he swooped in and took care of all the responsibilities that should have fallen on my ill-equipped shoulders.
The funeral.
The house.
The will.
The inheritance.
The insurance policies.
Everything I had been unable to wrap my head around those first few months after the accident. Almost two years later, and he’s still dealing with all of it. The sale of this condo went through him. And he’s already settled my fall tuition bill at Northwestern.
Deep down, I know he’s right. I may not want this party, but I need it. I need someone to force me out of the self-imposed hibernation I’ve been stuck in. It’s not like I have any friends here. The few I had, I eventually lost touch with.
Like Chloe.
My childhood best friend.
It didn’t happen right away. We continued texting and FaceTiming after I moved to Seattle. And up until college, we visited one another regularly. But after my parents died, even Chloe couldn’t penetrate the deep fog that sucked me under. The yawning physical distance separating us was just too much to overcome. After a while, no longer able to put up a good front, I stopped responding to her calls and texts.
I allowed our friendship to fall by the wayside.
Now, almost two years later, I regret icing her out. Once I’m settled, I have every intention of getting back in touch with her. For right now though, I’m taking things one step at a time. Slow, deliberate steps that continue to propel me forward, closer to the life I envision myself living.
Which is what this party will help achieve.
I almost groan as that thought pierces my consciousness.
“Okay,” I finally grumble.
Dominic squints as if he doesn’t believe that I’ve agreed to his party proposal. “Okay? That’s it? No cajoling? No begging? You’re capitulating, just like that?” His eyes narrow further.
For some odd reason, his reaction lightens my heart. I can’t help but chuckle. Slowly, as if it’s painful to voice the words out loud, I say, “You’re right. A party is exactly what I need. Meeting some new people along with a few old ones who worked with my parents will be good for me.” I suck in a deep breath before pushing out the rest. “It might even be fun.”
Not looking the least bit convinced by my sudden acquiescence, he scrutinizes me for a moment before saying, “All right, Grace Elizabeth Castile, what kind of sly trickery are you trying to pull? A little reverse psychology, is it? Or are you about to hit me with some outrageous bill and you’re trying to soften the blow?”
I snort at the accusation. “I promise, there’s no trickery at work here.” An evil smile spreads across my face. “But there is a bill I need you to pay.”
Wearing a smug expression, he folds his arms across his chest. “I knew it.”
I chortle in response. “Just kidding! There aren’t any bills right now.” My eyes travel around my new condo, which has been furnished with a few antiques from my parents’ house along with some new things I’ve picked up since moving here. It’s a mixture of traditional and modern, and I love it.
As my eyes slide over each piece, I realize how me this condo is turning out to be. I spent the last four years living in the dorms with a roommate. It’s nice to have a place all to myself. “I think I’ve spent more than enough over the last two months.” I paid for the condo in cash with money from my inheritance. Plus, the school tuition bill. And some furniture.
I feel like I should be tapped out.
Changing tones, he quickly reminds me, “You don’t have to worry about money, Gracie. You’re fine. Quite honestly, you won’t have to worry about money for the rest of your life. You don’t have to work, if you don’t want to.”
After I graduated from college, Dominic told me that I could simply volunteer at a museum if that’s what I really wanted to do. I don’t need an income. Between the inheritance from my grandparents and the insurance policy money from my parents’ death, I’ve got more than enough to sustain me for the long run. Especially if it’s invested wisely, which is what I rely on Dominic for.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m eternally grateful for that money. It’s one less thing to worry about. I may be young, but I understand what a huge gift financial freedom is.
But I can’t imagine not working. I’ve spent the last four years trudging through college. I’ve earned a bachelor’s degree in art history and am now enrolled in a graduate program at Northwestern. I’d like to get my doctorate, with the end game being that I find a curating position at an art museum.
What’s the alternative?
Spending my days being idle?
Shopping and lunching?
That’s not the kind of life my parents envisioned for me. They never told me that I didn’t have to work. Until Dominic went through their Last Will and Testament, I’d had no idea how much they were worth. I’d always known that we weren’t lacking for anything. But I hadn’t realized they were independently wealthy.
After they inherited all that money from my grandparents, Mom and Dad continued working. They were both so passionate about the law. Their lives held purpose and meaning because of it. That’s what I want for myself. Even though I’m pursuing a different kind of career, it’s no less important.
If anyone should appreciate the fact that I want a meaningful career, it’s Dominic. He’s been a workaholic for as long as I’ve known him. Putting in eighty-hour weeks is nothing to him. Sometimes, if there’s an important case, he’ll have his associates and paralegals work during the weekend at his house. He always compensates them generously, so there isn’t that much complaining, but still…
“I want a career, Dominic. I love art. Eventually I want to find a position as a curator. I don’t want to just be a volunteer. I want my input to matter. I want to be involved in the decision-making process regarding exhibits and displays. Not to mention, the actual art itself. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
He showers me with a smile full of pride. “I know, sweetheart. You could delay school for a bit if you feel overwhelmed. The option to start later is always a possibility. There’s nothing wrong with taking a bit of time off.”
I appreciate his concern. But still, I shake my head. I’m looking forward to delving into the art history program at Northwestern. I don’t want to put it off. What would I do with all my time? Sit around? Think about my parents? Get depressed?
No, I need to throw myself into this new life. I can’t take the chance of getting stuck in my head again. That’s one of the reasons I moved here. Fresh start. New beginning. No more living in the past.
“I’m ready now.”
“I want you to realize that there are options available to you even if you start the program and decide to delay it after a few weeks. I don’t want you feeling like you have to continue with it, that you have to take a full course load so that you can finish up as quickly as possible. There’s no rush for you to find a paid position. Your parents did extremely well for themselves. They were careful with how they invested your mother’s inheritance. It’s grown exponentially over the years.”
I feel bad for admitting this, but I don’t know how much I’m worth. It isn’t a topic my parents openly discussed and after they died, Dominic handled all the finances so that I could focus on moving forward and getting through school. I want Dominic to continue managing everything, but I should at least have a working knowledge of what’s going on. It seems… ignorant or, at the very least, oblivious to not know.
“I was thinking that maybe I should handle some of my own bills from now on.” I wave my hand, encompassing my new residence. “Now that I’m living here and not in the dorms, I’ll have to pay for utilities and necessities on a monthly basis. It would be easier for both of us if I didn’t have to bother you all the time.”
He gives me a look as if I’m talking nonsense. “Gracie, please, you could never be a bother.”
“I know, but it seems like I should be doing this myself. I’m twenty-three years old and I don’t know what I have in the bank.”
“You’re right,” he concedes. “You should have more responsibility where your inheritance is concerned, but I think we need to take it slow. Give yourself time to get acclimated to Chicago, your new condo, and the program you’re enrolled in. This move is a huge change for you. Everything about your life is different now. I hate the thought of you taking on too much. Your inheritance is a lot to manage. But at some point, you’ll have to do it on your own.”
Silently mulling over his words, I nod. He’s right. Everything about my life is different than it was two short months ago. It’s probably for the best that he continues managing everything monetarily until I’m able to get into a groove. Maybe six months from now, he can slowly start handing over the financial reins. I don’t want complete control, though. I know what Dominic said is true. My parents’ wealth is extensive. I don’t want to make any bad fiscal decisions.
Sometimes it feels like I have very little say or control over my own money. I don’t like having to ask permission for something that is mine in the first place. Yes, I’m young and I’ve been through a traumatic few years, but I’m ready to at least pay my own monthly bills.
Even though I was twenty-one at the time of the accident, Dominic was appointed as the estate executor for my inheritance. He’s in charge of everything until I turn twenty-five. Honestly, I don’t have anything to complain about. Whenever I ask for money, he never says no. He simply deposits the funds into my checking account. And he’s always been generous with my monthly allowance.
“If you want to sit down and go over your portfolio, I’m more than willing to do it. I’ve told you that from the beginning.”
That’s true. He has offered. Repeatedly. I just wasn’t ready before. Now, two years have slipped by, and I have no clue about my wealth.
“Okay. Maybe we can sit down in a few months and go over everything. But you’re right, it’s probably better if you retain control for the time being.”
“It’s what your parents wanted. They loved you very much and wanted to make sure you had someone trustworthy to look after both you and your assets.”
It breaks my heart to hear him say that.
My parents loved Dominic. He might not have been blood, but he was family just the same. Without him, I would have no one. As soon as that thought takes root in my mind, I quickly shove it away. I hate dwelling on how alone I am.
Ironically, when it was just my parents and me, I never felt like that. My life had been full, brimming with love. But without them there’s this huge, gaping hole. The only one capable of filling it is Dominic.
His brow furrows as he continues watching me. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
Not wanting to talk about the thoughts crashing around within my brain, I push them away. “I just love you, and I’m happy to finally be here in Chicago. I don’t say it enough, but I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me.”
Reaching across the table, he slips his fingers into mine and gives them a gentle squeeze.
“I will always be here for you, Gracie.” Lightening the mood, he gives me a little wink. “It’s just you and me, kid. No matter what.”
Hearing those words, even though it’s something he tells me often, has the rare ability to calm everything rioting inside me.
And for that, I’m grateful.