Tempest of Change Page 8

  I ignore the girls giving me dirty looks as we head out of the building. I’ve gotten used to them at this point. The guys are going to do what they want to do. These girls are just ignorant if they think I’m responsible for their behavior.

  We pile into the SUV and it doesn’t take long before we’re pulling up in front of the lawyer’s red brick office.

  “We can wait if you want…” Sebastian offers, turning in his seat to catch my eye.

  “Nah, you’ll just be bored hanging around here. I’ll text you guys when I’m finished.”

  “If you’re sure…”

  I give him a smile and hop out. “I’m sure; go take care of your stuff. I’ll be fine.” I close the door and turn away, ending the conversation. Taking a deep breath, I force myself up the front stairs and into the building.

  The door opens directly into a quiet reception area decorated with old fashion furniture. The receptionist is the only person in the room, an older woman wearing too much makeup and an ill-fitting blazer. She glances up from the monitor and gives me a suspicious look.

  “Can I help you?” She asks shortly. Wow, customer service was definitely not this lady’s strong point.

  “I’ve got a 4 o’clock appointment, Emilienne Langmore.” She turns back to the screen and starts tapping away on the keys. After what feels like forever, she finally stops typing, and looks back at me.

  “Ms. Blackmore will be with you shortly,” she states, dismissively. I grab a seat, pull out my book and go back to reading.

  “Emilienne?” A cold voice breaks the silence. I glance up to find an unfamiliar woman standing over me. She has a pinched look to her face and her dark hair is pulled back in a tight bun.

  “Yes?” I answer, slipping the book back into my bag.

  “Follow me,” she says, turning sharply and heading down the hall behind the receptionist. So much for a warm welcome. I roll my eyes and follow behind. She leads me into an office with bland white walls broken only by a set of bookcases and a grouping of dark framed diplomas. She takes a seat behind a large oak desk that matches the rest of the furniture. Opening the file in front of her, she silently flips through the pages before finally speaking.

  “So Emilienne, I see your parents have scheduled this meeting for you to take over managing your trust fund, as well as a few other items.” She glances up at me, and I nod, unsure what she expects.

  “Very well, your trust fund management is very straight forward. Since your birth, you have been receiving receive deposits from the family’s primary trust each quarter in the amount of $250,000.

  “Wait, how much?” I stop her, sure I must have heard wrong.

  “$250,000. According to the documents we received, those deposits will continue to you, and any offspring you may have, in to perpetuity. Now this money has been invested on your behalf. The investment account is handled by Invitus Investments. Unfortunately, your account has been impacted by the recent financial down turn in the market and there have been significant losses.” I stare at her in confusion; suddenly wishing Ian was here to interpret for me. This stuff would be right up his alley.

  “What exactly does that mean?”

  “Well the current value of your investment account is approximately five million dollars. The next trust fund deposit will take place this Friday. The most sensible option is to allow everything to continue the way it has, with Invitus Investments investing the deposits on your behalf. We would set up a separate account for you to receive, say $5,000 a month, for you to pay expenses you might have.”

  “The trust also includes the house, two cars, and some miscellaneous smaller item. The property has a separate maintenance account which receives annual disbursements to cover incidentals such as the utilities, insurance, taxes and upkeep. Now that you are eighteen, you can sell the house and add those proceeds, as well as the annual maintenance funds to your investment account.”

  “In fact, we’ve already received a very generous offer for the property.” She takes a stack of papers from the file and slides them across the desk. Fluorescent green Post-It notes stick out from between the pages. I stare at her dumbfound. “If you would just sign on the marked pages, we can get the paperwork submitted today and everything closed by this time next month.”

  “Wooh, slow down.” I say, throwing my hands in the air, still trying to process everything she’s been rapid firing off at me. “Let me make sure I understand what you’re saying.” I take a deep breath, trying to compose my thoughts, as she gives me a patronizing smile.

  “First off, my investment account has five million dollars, even though it should be at least in the eighteen million dollar range, without any interest or growth.”

  “Well yes, but the economy…” I hold up a hand for her to stop.

  “And there’s been an offer on my house, which it appears you have already taken the liberty to accept on my behalf and are asking me to sign contracts for today, even though that would leave me homeless.”

  “But your parents made their wishes clear when...” I hold my hand up again, shaking my head.

  “As you pointed out, I’m 18 now, so these are my decisions and responsibilities.” I flash her a patronizing smile of my own. “This is all been a bit overwhelming really. Since you’ve been working as my parents’ lawyer, I’m not sure you have my best interests in mind at this time.” Her eyes widen, and she opens her mouth to interrupt again, but I continue on, giving her a warning look. “Based on what you’ve told me so far, it’s clear that I need to have an unbiased third party check over my legal and financial affairs. I’d also like to consult with a financial planner, to reevaluate my investment options.” She’s gaping at me now, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. “At this point, I don’t feel comfortable making any decisions today regarding the possibility of selling the house. Oh, and instead of sending more money to Invitus Investments, I think I’d better hang on to my money while I find a financial adviser. Could arrange to have my quarterly disbursement issued directly to me via cashier’s check, at least until I get my own bank account set up for future deposits?

  “Well of course. But, Emilienne, I assure you, we’ve been managing your family’s affairs here on the island for many years. We are more than capable of working with you, now that you’ve come of age.”

  I give her a sweet but false smile in response. “I’m sure my parents informed you of the “incident” that occurred this spring. My psychiatrist has advised me that due to the side effects, I should never make life impacting decisions without taking at least two weeks to think them over. She also recommended that I consult with experts when I need advice. I appreciate your time today, Ms. Blackmore. If you’d be so kind as to give me copies of all the documents we’ve discussed, and as well as anything else you might have that we haven’t had time to cover. I’m happy to schedule a follow up meeting with you two weeks to let you know what I decide. Until then, I’d appreciate it if you could make sure that disbursement check is ready for me to pick up on Friday and put a freeze on my investment account so that I’m not hit with any further losses due to the unstable economy.” Her face has lost all color at this point and I sit back in my chair with my arms folded across my chest.

  “Well, yes I suppose, if that’s what you prefer,” she finally stutters, hitting a button on her phone. “Give me a moment to have those copies made for you.” She reaches for the house contract, but I grab it and pull it into my lap.

  “Since this is my copy to sign, I’ll hold onto it and read through before I make my decision.”

  She gives me a pinched lip smile. “Of course.”

  The door behind me opens. “Yes Ms. Blackmore.” I hear the receptionist say.

  “Please make a copy of Miss Langmore’s files, Rebecca. She’ll be taking it with her today.” Something passes between the two of them, and I catch a glimpse of a murky red and black aura surrounding the lawyer. I try to repress my shudder. It won’t take me two weeks to make up my mind a
bout this place, but I need to buy some time to make sure I can get out of dealing with them ever again. Everything else will have to wait for now. It’s been too much to process all at once already. I keep my face a mask of patience and pull out my phone.

  Me: Can someone come and get me ASAP?

  Angel Sebastian: On my way, be there in 15

  Tank Clayton: Everything ok?

  Me: Too much to type right now. Can we meet at the twins’ place? I’ll fill you all in there

  Nerd Ian: Come on over

  Rock Star Samil: Riding with Bast, see you soon

  Vampire Jared: Ordering Chinese

  I snicker at Jared’s response and shake my head as I slip my phone back into my pocket. The lawyer is staring at me, clearly wanted to know what was going on, but I don’t owe her an explanation. So I just plaster a polite smile on my face and resume waiting for the receptionist to return with my paperwork.

  Five minutes later, she’s finally back with a thick manila envelope, which she sets on the desk. “Anything else, Ms. Blackmore?”

  “Make another appointment for Miss Langmore on the 15th of November at the same time,” the lawyer replies before turning back to me.

  “Please let me know if you have any additional questions before our next meeting.” she says, rising out of her chair and extending her hand. I reluctantly shake it, the uncomfortable vibe increasing at the touch. I quickly pull back my hand and grab the envelope of documents.

  “Do I need to sign anything regarding the freezing of my investment account?” I ask.

  “Oh yes, thank you for reminding me,” she says insincerely, pulling some papers from the printer and offering them to me. I take them and sit back to read through the entire thing. I ignore her looming presence behind me, and only once I verify they appear to include everything I requested, do I take the pen from the desk and sign. Smiling, I hand them back to her.

  “Can I get a copy of that too?” I ask maintaining my sweet smile. She doesn’t quite glare at me outright, but I can feel the cracks in her facade. Papers in hand, she sweeps out of the room without a word. I follow behind as she speeds down the hall and stops in a small alcove with an ancient copy machine. I rock back and forth while I wait for her to finish, anxious to get out of this place with its creepy vibes and unpleasant staff. She turns to me without a word and offers me the copy.

  “I’ll be by Friday afternoon for my check,” I call cheerfully, heading for the door. “Thanks again.” The fresh air outside immediately lifts the cloud of negativity from that place and I take a deep breath as I head towards Sebastian’s SUV waiting at the curb. I jump in the front and grab my seat belt.

  “Get me away from this place, please” I shudder, clicking the belt closed. Sebastian raises his eyebrow at me, but does as I ask.

  “That bad?” Clayton questions, leaning forward to stick his head between the seats.

  “It was pretty awful,” I admit ruefully. “I’ll tell you all about it when we get to the cottage. So, how was your afternoon?” I ask, changing the subject before they can come up with any more questions.

  “Quiet,” Samil responds. “We went by the store to pick up some things to keep at your place and swung by to drop them off.”

  “Nice,” I smile, settling back in my seat. “I want you guys to feel like my home is your home. So what did you get?”

  “Drinks, snacks, and other assorted groceries. There’s not much in the way of food at your place.” Sebastian answers with a grin.

  “Of course not, that would have required someone know how to cook,” I laugh, before turning a serious eye on them. “But you should have waited. I would have paid for it.”

  “Em, we’re not going to let you pay for everything. We’ve got money coming in, and the stuff we bought is for all of us.”

  “He’s right, Sprite. We’ll eat you out of house and home if you’re not careful. Besides I’ve got plenty of guilt money from my Dad to contribute to the cause.” Shocked, I glance over at Sebastian, the frown line between his eyes betraying his smile. He never talks about his Dad, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from asking for more information. After hearing about his parents’ divorce from Samil, my curiosity is peaked, but this isn’t the time or place to bug him with personal questions.

  “Ok, fine,” I concede with a huff, crossing my arms. “But food stuff and personal items only.” They grudgingly mutter out agreement, although Samil looks like he wants to argue the point. I stare him down, eyebrow raised, till he looks away.

  We pull up to the carriage house and pile out. Jared’s already opening the door for us, grinning.

  “You’re right on time. They just dropped off the food.” He smirks.

  “I swear all you guys ever think about is food.”

  “That’s not all I think about,” he answers with a wink, and I feel a blush heat my cheeks. I roll my eyes and slip past him. Jared’s ever changing moods giving me whiplash. It was bad before, but since the kiss, I’m just not sure how to take them. Right now, avoidance is my answer.

  Containers of Chinese food cover the coffee table and I tuck the paperwork into my bag and leave it by the door. Ian’s already curled up in one corner of the couch, so I drop down in my usual center spot, leaning forward to peer into the different boxes. I grab a container of fried rice and a fork.

  “What? No chopsticks, Sprite?” Sebastian asks, grabbing a couple containers before taking a seat in one of the wing chairs. I give him a look as he manages to balance the boxes and eat with chopsticks.

  “This is safer,” I shrug, digging in.

  “You just don’t have my mad skillz,” he grins. I roll my eyes, refusing to rise to the bait.

  “So…” Samil prompts, settling into the other wing chair. “You were going to tell us about the meeting.”

  “It was weird as fuck,” I sigh. “Apparently I have a trust fund that has been automatically sending my money to an investment company, except that the investment company has been losing the money rather than growing it. And the house is mine, but the lawyer has already been approached by someone wanting to buy it, so I walked into an attempt to get me to sell the house. And of course she recommended that I give the money from the house to the same investment company that has been losing all my money. None of it made any sense.”

  “What the Hell?” Clayton growls. “Shouldn’t the lawyer be helping you?”

  I shrug. “After the way Mom took off, I wasn’t expecting much, but nothing like what I heard.”

  “You didn’t agree to anything, did you?” Ian asks.

  “No, I had them give me copies of everything and said I needed two weeks to think it all over. The whole thing was crazy creepy. I need to find someone trustworthy to take a second look at everything and probably help me set it up so I can manage this stuff myself.”

  “We can help,” Ian offers with a shy smile. “I’ll scan all the documents you have and look them over. I know our parents have some trustworthy contacts if you need a new lawyer or a good financial adviser to help you deal with all of this.” He pauses for a second. “As long as you don’t mind a little cloak and dagger for the meetings. Their friends can be a little… odd.”

  “Odd is fine as long as they are trustworthy,” I tell him, finishing off my fried rice. “I’ve got all the paperwork in my bag if you want to scan it when we’re finished.” Ian nods.

  “Are you really considering selling the house?” Jared asks.

  “Hell no, where would I live?” I reply, rolling my eyes. “I couldn’t believe the lawyer even suggested it; I was like, WTF. But there was something else…” I hedge.

  “What is it, Em?” Samil asks.

  “Well, I could be wrong, but it’s been niggling at the back of my mind. I swear there was something familiar about the investment company name. But I can’t think of any place I would have heard… Except when Ian was going through all those company names the other night…” I pause, biting the inside of mu cheek. “But that can’t b
e right… It would be too much of a coincidence… I’m probably just being paranoid…” I say shaking my head. “I mean, how could my investment company be related to those Magi creeps that tried to grab me.”

  “Where are these papers again?” Ian asks, setting aside his food. I point towards the door and Ian’s on his feet in a flash, grabbing my bag and disappearing into the back. I slide over into his corner.

  “Soooo… Should we watch a movie?” Sebastian asks.

  “Sure,” Jared replies grabbing the remote. After some debate, they settle on an action film I’ve never heard of. Ian comes back in about halfway through. He looks around before picking me up.

  “You stole my seat,” he whispers in my ear, before sitting back down with me in his lap.

  “It didn’t have your name on it,” I whisper back, shaking with silent laughter. I move to get up, but he wraps his arms around my waist and I give up and settle back against him.

  When the credits start to roll, the guys all direct their attention to Ian.

  “Well?” Samil prods, the tension rolling off him in waves.

  “I didn’t go through everything yet, but the “investment” company was definitely on the list of shell companies that came up before I hit a dead end.” The guys start cursing.

  “WTF is going on? There is no Fucking way that’s a coincidence.” I growl, struggling to free myself from Ian’s grasp. I move around the couch, pacing the room. For once, I wish I had shorter nails so I could make a proper fist and hit something. “I don’t understand what this means. Were my parents involved with the Magi or even…?” I trail off as the full implications hit me. If this was related to the “incident”, does that mean they knew what was going to happen? That they were ok with me turning into a zombie battery? Oh God, is that why I my Father was always on the phone in the hospital talking about reparations? Was he trying to get compensation because I survived? Or some kind of refund because I wasn’t the battery he was promised? There is a low grade buzzing in my ears and I can feel myself shaking.