One thought of her mom’s bills and Livy wanted to jump back on the cable car and ride it into the ocean without a snorkel. Yeah, that would show the world, wouldn’t it..? Not.
Livy sat a glow table in the corner of the hotel bar, running her forefinger around the rim her acai flavored margarita. Her jaunt as a super model tempting jungle creatures with acai inspired her to explore more of her adventurous side.
Livy took a sip and darn if it didn’t taste good.
“Wow, maybe I should try new things more often.”
Like the large envelope that stared Livy in the face whenever she looked at the glowing table surface. Livy knew a string of messages and bills were waiting for her at home. Not that her professional engagements were twisty, but Livy made certain her personal life was not.
Livy was done believing in romantic trysts and the promise of a happy ever after. Give her a plate of s’mores and some fan-fiction with Joseph Gordon-Levitt or Chris Hemsworth with them, and she was good.
Livy picked up the manila envelope. Geez, it was heavy enough to use as a paper weight.
“You don’t scare me,” Livy poked at the mailer. Livy set it down and she ordered another margarita.
Her mobile rang.
“Hi, babe—.”
“Hi, Poppy. I know I need to pay your for sitting—.” Poppy Hepburn rang Livy insisted on phoning every night, and on the half hour. Like Livy couldn’t possibly tell fit was Poppy from her caller ID.
“Awesome and The Harringtons want you to add their Jack Russell into the mix, Liv.”
Livy pressed her hand to her forehead. “Bluck,” Livy said into the phone.
“I’m not the one with a dog walking empire, but I’d love it,” Livy heard Poppy whisper to the Russell, “Down boy.”
Livy and Poppy knew one another since kindergarten. They ran into each other again at college, and Livy wondered why Poppy was always free to hang. Everybody they knew seemed to go missing. When Livy asked, she always got the same reply. “I’m an independent woman, and I do what I want.”
O-kay, Livy thought. Why couldn’t she live that way?
Livy tapped a series of digits on her phone. She wired money to Poppy, relieved she had gotten two things right today. “Check your mail, babe.”
“Ooh, cashola,” Livy replied “Thank you, girl. You need me to do the doggy thing more, don’t you?”
Livy burst out laughing in the bar. She turned her head when she gained the looks of more than a few teetotalers and diehard drinkers. “I’m sorry Poppy. It’s been that kind of a day.”
“So you texted,” said Poppy. “Giraffes, really?”
“A chimpanzee too. He tried to eat my shoe—.” Livy pulled her ear away from the phone.
“No!” Poppy cried. “Let me at that mad little thing. I’ll get him good and trained like my ‘boo’, Geoff,” said Poppy. “By the way, any word on your granddaddy’s will,” said Poppy.
“I’ve got a big, hairy envelope staring at me,” Livy ran her fingernail under the sealed portion of the giant letter.
“And how is your boyfriend you call ‘boo’?” Livy said, smiling.
“As rascally as you and Jacques from what I hear,” Poppy repeated Livy’s name. “Liv? Liv you there?”
A bartender set a bowl of nuts on the table.
Livy looked up beaming. “Cashews?”
“Your favorite.” The stylish sixtyish bald barkeep rounded the tabled as he winked.
Livy was known by the hotelier who ran the place where she stayed. That was how she could get away with breaking the upscale establishment’s dress code. Livy’s shirt front matching her jeans and sneakers read, “Kiss me, I’m a real blonde.”
Livy wished she had as much power to command what she wanted in the real world, and especially with her grandfather Donovan Lee’s will.
“What is going on with you and Jacques? The whole coast is talking about how the famous photographer almost eloped with the granddaughter of an ad empire,” said Poppy. “I called your home and you weren’t there again. Liv? Are you at the hotel again?
An ad empire? Livy could ever be an heiress to a fortune. Hah. A granddaughter to a madcap businessman, maybe, but an heiress? “Don’t I wish,” Livy said under her breath.
Livy doubted her life could turn any twister if she Double Dutch dared it.
Livy leapt up from her seat reading the letter she’d yanked from the mailer. “What in jumping-jolly faeries did grand pappy do?”
“Livy, not that Irish folklore junk again. I swear Donovan Lee and his messed up Irish folktales.
Liv?” Poppy said after a moment. “Liv, what is it?” Poppy chimed into the phone.
“Leaping Pookas!” Livy plopped back right down into her plush chair as the hotel bar guests stared. Livy reread the papers, but she could hardly believe what they said.
“Well—what?” Poppy said.
“Grand pappy willed his company, to me,” Livy blinked holding a deed to The Castle Agency.”
*****
The bike messenger rode up to the twentieth floor front of the midtown business district. “Delivery for Foxtail Ad Agency.”
Secretary Rhonda Flemings, tapped her com and PDX and she buzzed in the messenger.
“Don’t you ever sleep?” Rhonda took the manila package that the ebony biker Mike handed her.
“Got to get the packages out before classes,” Mike said, handing Rhonda his message tablet.
Rhonda glanced at her makeup in her PC mirror she’d queued up on her monitor. She never wanted to look like she was unkempt when a young strapping man was in her radar. Even if she was twice his age.
Being single in the city meant a girl had to accentuate the positive. All was fair in love and catching the worm. Rhonda knew Mike was a worm worth knowing; and over the years she’d learned how to be a very friendly bird.
“You keep hanging around here like you do and you might get more than you bargained,” Rhonda saw Mike glancing at her and smiled.
“Aren’t the girls on campus keeping you busy?” Rhonda signed Mike’s tablet with expert penmanship.
“Nah. These days, the girls want a billionaire, or a hustler,” Mike took the tablet and he penned his initials beside Rhonda’s signature.
Rhonda shook her auburn hair so it lilted around her pretty fortyish face. “See you next time, okay?”
Mike nodded and he took the slip of paper Rhonda had handed him.
Mike entered the elevators grinning as he keyed in Rhonda’s number into his mobile phone.
“Tell the brothers the package and papers have arrived,” Rhonda said as she pressed another button on her com.
Rhonda’s cell phone buzzed.
“Mike Nichols, mm? A good, strong name,” Rhonda quietly said as one of the brothers of the Foxtail Group asked for the package.
Rhonda scheduled a Brazilian wax. A woman had to be prepared when good times were coming, Rhonda calmly smiled.
*****
“That’s great news, Livy! Isn’t it?” Poppy and Livy walked the hills of the city giving the throng pooches a healthy shakedown.
“Remember when I mentioned the fine print?” Livy sucked a dollop of crème from her latte. The caramel sugary goodness made a moustache around under her nose.
“Yeah,” Poppy reigned her gaggle of canines from the curb.
“The papers I signed to handle granddad’s business are about more than I thought,” said Livy.
“I’m a paralegal and even I don’t know what that means,” Poppy followed Livy as they headed up the street.
“You’re the legalese girl, remember?” Livy said.
“Well you’ve got sugar ‘stache on your upper lip, so there.” Poppy and Livy rounded a corner near the Castle Agency to Doggy Hearts.
The building was near Donovan’s Agency and Livy had rented it to go into business for herself. She loved animals, and a dog walking biz was something she could put heart and soul into without wondering if it had purpose.
>
Donovan Lee had instructed Livy to follow her dreams; but Livy had given up on fairy tales. Finding Jacques in bed with not one supermodel, but two, had cured Livy about romantic fantasies.
Dog walking was a salve for all the hurt and pain Livy had to work through to get to where she was now; reasonably happy, relationship-free. Then there was her mother Julia and her mom’s paltry insurance. What was Julia Castle going to do if Julia inherited the family’s business?
Livy handed her leashes to Poppy. “I’ve got that meeting this morning. Can you hang with the pooches by yourself for a few more hours?”
Poppy smiled, elated. “You know it. We’re two 24 year olds living it up. I’m an independent woman, and I do what I want.”
Livy hugged her friend Poppy who was wearing an oversized pink sweater and purple leggings in the crisp June air. Gosh, what Livy wouldn’t do to live as free as Poppy did. “See you later this afternoon.”
“Okay, do your ‘thang’,” Poppy hoarded the dogs into Livy’s office space. Livy saw the Irish wolfhound was dragging her. “I got this.”
*****
Livy waited in the shade of the oak trees lining the industrial-sized building. Reeve’s and Associates was her grandfather Donovan’s communiqué for everything. Livy knew she didn’t grasp half of what the people in the upstairs offices told her, or what her granddad’s will said.
Livy stood waiting on the phone for someone or something in the receivables office at the Memorial hospice to answer. She had to phone now or she would never get through to the right people.
“Memorial receivables.”
“Yes, this is Livy Castle. My mother has an account with you I’d like to discuss.”
“Do you have the information available, such as an account number, or an address that is associated with it,” the female voice said.
“I don’t know my mom’s account number off the top of my head. You said an address?” Livy gave the info.
“I have the information. Can you please confirm your relationship in the form of the last four digits of the social that is matched with the power of attorney?”
Livy gave the info. “Yes, I have Julia Castle’s account. She has an outstanding balance of $295, 746.98.”
Livy stared at her phone. “I don’t have that,” Livy whispered loudly into the phone. “I own a dog walking business, not a multinational conglomerate.”
“This amount will be due at the end of the month.”
“The end of the month—? I thought it was sixty days? My mom has a rare disease with her lymphatic system, and other things. What am I supposed to do? Poof and flying money will fly out of my butt? This is unbelievable. Without the treatments at the hospice, she may relapse,” Livy explained.
“I understand,” said the receivables representative. “Let me connect you with someone who may be able to help you further. May I put you on hold for a minute, Miss Castle?”
Livy didn’t have time to wait for more horrific news. She asked for the contact number for the person. “Okay, thanks.”
“Thank you for choosing the Memorial hospice and I hope you have a wonderful day.”
Livy hung up her phone, staring into the street like a zombie; she remembered she had a meeting upstairs.
*****
“Did you have a chance to read everything,” the handler said to Livy.
Livy sat across her grand pappy’s lawyer, and she felt like her head had caved in…she replayed her conversation with the Reeves and Associates face man, gob smacked.
Livy thought she may as well have been struck by a ton of steel. She bet even four-eyed Clark Kent’s cousin Kara would have been hard pressed to deal, jeepers.
“Yes, but I don’t know if I really am getting what you told me?” Livy read the fine print of the legalese and signed where the handler instructed.
“The first page covers everything that you own.”
“Own?” Livy said, looking at Simon Sallow whom she’d nicknamed, her ‘handler’.
Livy had seen Simon dozens of times after her grand pappy died. What Simon didn’t have in looks, he made a lasting impression with in words. Livy replied she thought standing in for her grandfather was temporary. “You’re saying I really do own the Agency?”
“Yes. There are clauses about the redacted actions and responsibilities your grandfather Donovan instructed to have followed. There are in the final pages. Remember to familiarize yourself with them, as you are the sole heir to the Castle family fortune.”
Sole heir? What family fortune? Livy scrunched her face as she glanced at Mr. Simon Sallow. “In English?”
“Miss Castle, your grandfather owned more than the Castle Ad Agency. He partnered with other agencies and organizations when he expanded the business.” Livy watched Simon click his fountain pen point to a page in the legal papers.
“You not only own and are responsible for maintaining the Castle Ad Agency. You also have shares in additional companies, listed here, and here,” Simon flipped a page, “here, here, and here.”
Livy gawked at Simon Sallow.
“You mean to tell me that Donovan Lee owned multiple companies?”
“The Castle Agency is a business that is owned by the LLC, named the Castle Ad Agency. I thought your grandfather would have told you all of this.” Simon linked his fingers and he waited for Livy to read the clauses.
Livy sank into the chair opposite Simon Sallow. “Okay. So, grand pappy Donovan was rich.”
“Your grand pappy formed partnerships with several of the leading ad agencies along the coast. He was also a board member with two of this city’s largest modeling agencies.”
Livy touched her head, trying to let the words sink into her brain.
“I believe this was in part of the mailer you received.” Donovan showed Livy a spread sheet itemizing Donovan’s holdings. “Here is a duplicate.”
“Miss Castle, your grandfather Donovan Lee Castle was a billionaire.”
*****
Poppy stared at her friend Livy, open-mouthed. “No way.”
“Way,” Livy replied.
“Your grandfather was a wheeler-dealer, is that what Simon says?”
Livy spat her cola into her glass. She and Poppy had detoured from dog walking for a fast brunch.
It was Friday and the only thing Livy wanted to crawl into were the crisp sheets of her hotel room. Her flat was being fumigated, and she didn’t want any lovely bed buggies feasting on her pink toes like the hot dog she was trying to scarf.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to make a funny,” Poppy frowned between bites of her dog with ketchup and relish.
“No, it’s perfect,” said Livy. What could be better than being told she had a fortune she couldn’t even touch?
“That’s not the best part. Guess how long I have to repay my mother’s bills?” Livy waited for Poppy to swallow before she lambed her good with the news.
“I give,” Poppy shrugged.
“A quarter of a million dollars.”
This time Poppy spat up her cola. “You have got to be shooting me—.” Livy loved when Poppy cursed because she chose words that never sounded like the real thing.
“And change,” Livy said. “Oh, and I have to have it by the end of the month.”
“I thought it was sixty days,” replied Poppy.
“And the clincher? I have no idea whom grand pappy really worked with, or why he never told mom he was super rich.”
“Maybe he thought he was surrounded by gold diggers?” Poppy bit into her bratwurst.
“Get this. Granddaddy was paying for mom’s hospice bills and he didn’t want anybody to know. You should see all of grand pappy’s holdings.” Livy cleaned a dab of mustard off her hand.
“Wow,” Poppy said.
“Now I have a meeting with a company I’ve only heard of by reputation.”
“If you need me to look into it, you know I will.”
“I’m going to see them at this place later today. It’s the Fox Age
ncy, I think?” Livy said.
Poppy set down her cola. “The Foxtail Ad Group?” Poppy said.
“Yeah, that’s it,” said Livy. “You know about it?”
“Livy. The Foxtail Ad Group is the largest advertising agency this side of the country. If your grandfather was connected with them, he was one of the shrewdest businessmen around.”
STEPBROTHER: The Bride's Surprise (FMM Menage Stepbrother Romance) (Contemporary Women New Adult & College Menage Short Stories) Page 2