Chapter 71

Kathleen

The doorman says a hot young blonde is traipsing around the lobby of my building, practically demanding that she be sent up. You see, at the moment, I'm not allowing anyone up without buzzing first. And buzzing means going through the doorman.

Even Eve. Even my own father. Even Annie. I don't want any surprises. I need to know that my home is an actual haven and that I don't have to worry about the likes of Ira Mathison coming up to my door to "talk" when I'm not ready. Right now, it's all I can take working with her, smiling at her, chatting on the phone, and making eyes at her from across the room.

So Stephanie May is finding it difficult to get up into my apartment where she can harass and demand money out of me.

"I don't want to talk to her," I tell the doorman over the phone. "Please tell Miss May that I know what she's here for and it will be taken care of in due course."

"Yes, ma'am. I will send her on her way. She may leave a message, however."

"That's fine." I'm under no obligation to listen to her message. Not like she has anything good to say, anyway.

I'm left in peace for a few more minutes. I make some tea, pet the cat, and look at my calendar, wondering what I'm going to be doing two weeks from now when my contract with the Mathisons ends until it's time to get back to work on that museum.

One nice thing about being filthy rich is that I don't have to work. I don't worry about my next paycheck. I don't have to apply for jobs. It's nice not having to worry about that like some of my acquaintances do. I'm good with my money. So even if I don't work for a few months and fuck off to Brazil, Singapore, wherever, it doesn't matter. Everything is taken care of.

Except I can't live like that. I have to be busy… productively busy. I'm not artistic, so I don't devote my life to painting, writing, etc. I don't have kids so I'm not preoccupied with raising them right and ensuring a good education. No, I'm the type who wants to work so she feels like she's doing something with a greater purpose.

I just have no idea what that's going to be.

I'm sure I could find some pet project to tie me over until it's back to work on The Ace's museum. A school. Another library. Maybe a homeless shelter. Somebody out there needs me to help them set up grants. Besides, I need to stay busy. The busier I am, the less I think of Ira.

My phone rings. It's the doorman.

"Ms. Allen, there is a woman here to see you."

Fucking fuck fuck. "I told you, I do not need to see Miss May. Take a message and send her on her way."

"It's not Miss May. It's a Ms. Graham-Mathison."

Well, fuck me. "Send her up."

Within five minutes Carolyn is at my door, barreling me over as she sashays into my living room and coos at Sinéad playing with a piece of string on the floor. "What a precious little nugget," she says, emulating Stephanie. "Can't wait to call this one my grandbaby too."

"Er…"

Carolyn looks at me with the fakest smile in the universe. "I saw you and Ira dancing at the ball. Very nice. Although I hardly doubt you two have sorted out your… differences."

That's why the smile is fake. She's not here to welcome me back into the family. She's here to play the role my mother refuses to fill. Great. Should've left her in the lobby.

"Call it a moment of weakness," I say, bringing some tea to her. "A very big moment of weakness. Your daughter is irresistible."

"Trust me, I know. I raised the little shit. She was charming her nanny and me into letting them get away with shit for years." Carolyn sips her tea before putting it down on the coffee table and sitting in one of the chairs. Sinéad saunters over and rubs against a stiletto heel.

"Also," I sit on my couch, near her, "you missed our favorite Hollywood up-and-comer. She was here to harass me for hush money."

"Was she? Well, she should consider herself lucky that she missed me, because I would rip her head off and deflate those fake tits my ex-husband is probably going to buy for her. He offered to buy them for me more than once…"

"I thought you said you were going to take care of that," I say, carefully.

"Oh, I am, dear. I need a few more days, though. Try to hold her off until then. If you feel it absolutely necessary, go ahead and give her some money." That diabolical smile reminds me of Ira's. "She's going to need all the funds she can get soon."

I don't know what that means. I don't want to know what that means.

"No, I came by to warn you, sweetie." What is with these people and their pet names? My family would die. My father has a name for me, and that's it. "My sack of shit ex was by my place the other day to get some more money out of me. Apparently, one of the investors for The Ace fell through, and Donovan is searching for money."

"Shouldn't Ira have it?"

"Didn't they tell you? She already sank a fortune into it. More than Donovan did."

"And they're coming to me because nobody else will give them the money?"

"That's about the size of it. You're one of their last resorts."

"Thanks for the warning, I guess, but why are you telling me this?" There's no reason for Carolyn to be at my door, gabbing about her family's financial matters. We're not that close, no matter how much she likes to think so. Normally, she would let me find out the hard way… like when Ira is sent to me on her father's business, looking to lick some money out of my wallet.

Carolyn raises her eyebrows as she sips more tea. "Why, because you can use it as leverage, dear."

We're silent, my mind turning with those possibilities. "You're not suggesting…"

"I don't suggest anything, Kathleen, other than you realize your true worth and know what you want from my child. Sometimes they're a bit… thick. She doesn't understand what we're trying to tell them. She needs to be informed through other methods. Like through money. Ira understands money and business."

Before I can open my mouth, Carolyn drops her final bomb.

"Approach your relationship like a business transaction. Make her pay for what you both want."