I laugh gruffly. “Pretty soon, I might be anyway.”
“Talk to her about a loan. Use the profits to pay her back. You’re a Blackwell, Raiden. You shouldn’t beat yourself up about it.”
“Maybe you’re right,” I sigh. “I’m seeing her for lunch.”
I stretch and then fold my leg inward, feeling the slight pulsing in my knee from an old injury. Nothing serious. Nothing as bad as others have. But enough to make me research knee rehab and want to invest. To risk it all.
After leaving the gym, I drive through Cedar Rock, rain blanketing the landscape, the forest burning orange and red with maples despite the weather. Grandma’s estate sits upon a hill that overlooks the town and has views of the Blackwell private island on a clear day.
The butler leads me to the dining room, where Grandma is waiting for me.
Sebastian has been my grandmother’s butler since his eighteenth birthday. Something about him has often seemed odd to me. Tall. Pale to the point of sickliness. Stares too much and isn’t big on manners.
Some people have gossiped that Sebastian and my grandmother are an item. I doubt that.
Evangeline wears a periwinkle suit and a pearl necklace elegantly, as always. Her long silver hair twisted into a loose chignon.
I lean down and kiss her on the cheek. “Afternoon, beautiful lady.”
She smiles. “Always a charmer, Raiden.”
“It’s all superficial,” I say ironically, winking at her. “All a big game to hide my psychopathy.”
She tsks as I take a seat.
“Before we get started with lunch, I have something serious to discuss with you.”
“Sure.”
“It’s about your inheritance.”
“Luckily, we won’t have to worry about that for a long, long time.”
“I hope you’re right,” Grandma says with a smile. “This is important, however.”
I wait for her to go on.
“I miss my sons,” she says. “And my husband. I miss them all so much.”
“I miss my father and uncle too,” I tell her, taking her hand. “I miss Grandfather.”
“I’d hoped to see you settled by now,” she replies. “A nice girlfriend: maybe even a wife. Thirty isn’t old, but it’s not young either. You need to start thinking about children.”
“What does that have to do with my inheritance?” I ask.
“Don’t you want children?” She says, ignoring my question.
“Maybe one day, Grandma. The same goes for a wife. I haven’t thought about it much. I’ve been busy.”
Making money, losing money, running away from nightmares. Eating expensive meals. Occasional dates.
She sighs. “Perhaps I should just come out with it.”
“That might be for the best.”
“Before I do, however, I want you to know I’m saying this because I want the best for you. This isn’t just for me. It’s for the whole family.” She waits to see if I’ll say anything else. When I don’t, she goes on, “I want to see you settled and happy at the next Annual Grand Masquerade Retreat.”
It takes me a moment to register what she’s saying. “You want to see mesettled and happy, whatever that means, in a week’s time?”