Crazy Old Money
Page 7
“I live on my salary, Jada. It might not sound like a big deal to most people. But living on my own money is important to me.”
“Who else knows?”
“Kendrick. People who knew me way back when…it’s been a long time since I decided to distance myself from this.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” It was the most obvious question. “Did you think I wouldn’t understand?”
Tears welled in her eyes when something in his face told her he did.
“You’re this…social-justice-fighting, punch-the-patriarchy, disassemble-the-system badass. It didn’t take long to figure out how you felt about this kind of money.” His eyes held no guile, though they did hold sadness. “I still don’t think you understand how hard I fell in love with you, Jada. The first year we were together, I lived in constant fear that you’d figure it out.”
“About the money?”
He chuckled, sad and deep.
“That you were way out of my league…that you’re this juggernaut of change, and that the least interesting person you could ever choose to be with is some privileged white guy like me.”
Oh, baby.
Jada’s breath caught in her throat. Had she really made him feel like that?
“I know it wasn’t right, but…I didn’t know what I’d do if you left.” Marsh sounded earnest.
“Were you ever going to tell me?”
“Eventually,” he admitted. “When it became inevitable for you to know.”
“What did you think would happen, bringing me here?”
Marsh sighed and cast his gaze downward as he swiped his hand across the back of his neck.
“I sure as shit didn’t think that Biff would figure it out and throw me into hot water. Though, come to think of it, I probably should have anticipated that.”
Jada sighed. “I just don’t understand. Bringing me here to meet your family…why now, after so long? It’s obvious you’ve been keeping me away from all of this. Is it just because you couldn’t get out of Maw Maw calling you home for Thanksgiving?”
Marsh pursed his lips, seeming to choose his words before answering. “For a lot of reasons…it was just…time.”
“Time for what?” she wanted to shout. Instead it came out as a strangled whisper.
“Time you saw it all for yourself.”
Something complicated came into his eyes as they washed over her face. She shook her head helplessly. He took a step toward her, covering her hands in his. Casting his gaze downward, he rubbed her fingers between his palms before raising them slowly, to warm them with his hot breath. She’d forgotten that they were cold.
There was something he wasn’t telling her. She was halfway to pointing out that it was in his own best interests to come completely clean when his gaze shifted beyond her shoulder. He blinked in disbelief and muttered, “No fucking way…”
Turning to see what was so interesting behind her, she saw that it had begun to snow, slow, thick flakes floating by the light of the moon and down from the sky. Jada couldn’t help the smile that erupted from her heart to her face.
Not in her coziest wintertime fantasies had she imagined a snowfall as beautiful as this—the house lit and splendid behind them, the frozen lake at their side, and the forest all around them. Marsh’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
“I’m sorry, baby. For every sideways choice I made that made it happen like this. I never should have put you in this position.”
He looked duly repentant, and strangely nervous—perhaps anxious for her forgiveness?—as he peered to study the reaction on her face.
“No, you shouldn’t have,” she agreed, her gaze coming back to his. “But I can see why you were worried. I’ve never made it a secret that this isn’t really my scene…”
He sighed, looking past her shoulder again, frowning a little as he did. When he caught her gaze, his eyes were intense.
“You know…I can’t really do anything about my family.”
“Who’s asking you to?” She shook her head.
He brought his hand to her cheek and smoothed back a lock of hair.
“If you marry me, they’ll be your family, too.”
Jada stopped breathing. Because…what?
“If—” She stammered a single word and cut herself off, still shaking her head to comprehend. Was he asking her to marry him or speaking in hypotheticals? He gazed down at her intensely, gauging her reaction.
“Just in case you wanted a big wedding or anything. Or even a small wedding. They’re the kind of people who make you want to elope…”
His tone was flip but his eyes were serious and she could see then that he was really nervous. But she couldn’t answer what he hadn’t asked.
"Not funny." The pounding of her heart thrummed through her cheeks.
"Who's joking?"
The world tilted on its axis as he reached into his pocket.
"If I were, what would I be doing walking around with this?"
He got down on one knee.
“And just so you know, this isn’t how my perfect proposal was supposed to happen. We would have had our turkey dinner there, and I would have taken you for a night-time forest walk.
“There, as in, Whistler?”
But she couldn’t take her eyes off of the ring.
“There, as in, the ski chalet that I originally rented us in Canada. The new “there” is me renting out the B&B in Vermont all weekend and proposing to you on Saturday night.”
“What else would have happened?”
Jada felt detached from the sound of her own voice, and from the question that some part of her had kicked in to ask. This was absolutely surreal. Marsh’s hands trembled slightly. His voice was as calm and as deep as ever, but his eyes always gave him away. Right now, his eyes were shining with tears.
“It would have snowed, even though I’ve been watching the forecasts like a hawk and now they’re saying it might not. I would have told you that what I was most thankful for every day, every week, and every year, is getting to share my life with you.”
“What would I have said?” She sniffled. “You know…if it had happened the right way?”
“If I’d done it right, you would have said yes.”
12 The Beginning of the Rest of Their Lives
Marsh
“So what did I miss?" Jada yawned as she asked him the question. Marsh didn't miss the fact that she covered her mouth with her left hand and smiled subtly when her eye caught sight of the ring. He could tell that she'd been delighted and stunned by the gorgeous piece of jewelry, and a bit awed to know that it had been worn by so many Brewster women before.
He'd insisted that they go in when he saw how cold she was getting in the gazebo. He, too, would have prolonged the moment if he could have. Though what had passed, he would not soon forget. The look in her eyes when she’d said yes. The glow of her skin under the moonlight in the snow. The vow they’d seemed to have silently spoken to one another in that moment. Months ahead of standing at the altar, it felt as if they had already spoken the words.
Marsh had been so busy seeking her forgiveness that he'd forgotten about the others and the fact that she’d missed quite a bit when she’d gone outside. But, where could he begin?
"Maw Maw is retiring. She just fired Biff. She’s giving me her shares in the company. She wants you to help me restructure it to make it employee-owned. Everyone’s getting their inheritances early so there’s no will to contest, and Susie’s getting the house. Krista’s divorcing Biff. My dad’s finally admitted he still in love with my mom. I don’t know where that leaves Ashley. But I think my mom is still in love with my dad, too.”
“Wow.” Jada stomped the snow off of her boots as they walked into the rear entrance. “I was only out there by myself for, like, half an hour.”
“It’s just like I told you in the car. Unadulterated crazy. See what you just signed up for?”
Marsh took her blanket and held her hand as he navigated to the
staircase that would take them to their room. But they were intercepted by Maw Maw.
“Are you feeling better, dear?” she asked Jada.
“Yes. Thank you. And I’m sorry to have gotten up from Thanksgiving dinner. It was lovely. I didn’t mean to be so rude.”
Stepping up to Jada, Maw Maw waved her apologies off and reached to lift her left hand. For a long moment, Maw Maw admired the ring that she herself had worn for so many years before smiling up at Jada. “It looks better on you than it ever did on me,” She praised. “I wish you every happiness. I know my grandson will do right by you.”
Jada nodded her thanks.
“Now go make some babies. None of that shit about keeping yourself pure for your wedding night.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Brewster,” Jada replied politely, even as Marsh threw her a cheeky smile.
“And, Jada…” she said, still standing at the bottom of the stairs, even after Marsh and Jada had begun to ascend. “None of that Mrs. Brewster business, either. You can call me Maw Maw.”
The Private Jet: An Epilogue That’s Really a Beginning
“You know we’re not doing this every time, right?”
Jada ignored Marsh for the time being, focusing instead on the smartly-dressed flight attendant who was mid-pour on Jada’s second glass of champagne. They’d dropped off the rental car in Burlington and canceled their return flights to San Francisco. Now en route to San Diego, they’d celebrate their three-day-new engagement with an impromptu visit to see her parents—all made possible by the Brewster family jet.
“Mmm-hmmm,” Jada hummed around the lip of the glass as their attendant made his retreat. She was smiling in that way she tended to, right before she told Marsh exactly how things were going to be. “Maybe not every time,” she conceded. “But we should at least use it on special occasions. I could get used to this.”
As he pushed a plate of dark-chocolate-dipped strawberries in Jada’s direction, Marsh smiled indulgently at his girlfriend. No—not his girlfriend anymore—his fiancée. He would let her have her fun now—would let her enjoy this sleek, spacious luxury—even though the novelty of the family jet had long-since worn off for him.
Some part of him felt silly, in retrospect, for not having seen this coming. Jada liked fineries and he might have known that she would handle this end of it well. She’d said it herself at one point: the oddest part about finding out any of it wasn’t the money itself—it was reconciling her lovable, working-class boyfriend with the never-has-to-work-another-day-in-his-life mogul she’d met in Connecticut.
There was still a lot to think about—a lot to negotiate and discuss—and even more to confess. And that was the beauty of it all. They had time. They had the rest of their lives.
“Mr. Brewster, you have an emergency telephone call.”
The attendant returned as quickly as he’d left. Marsh frowned confusion at Jada. Apart from his family, who he’d checked in with just minutes before they’d taken off, there was only one other set of someones who knew how to find Marsh from anywhere in the world.
“You can take it at the desk in the back.” Marsh swung his eyes from the attendant to Jada, looking back at her even as he walked. The attendant’s voice followed him as he strode toward the closed-off office across from the bedroom in the back of the plane. “The caller is a Mr. Peretz.”
Shit, Marsh thought at the same time Jada’s astonished voice spoke the name, “Avi?”
Marsh stopped in his tracks and turned to face her again. All Jada knew about Avi was that he was good people and that Marsh knew him through their mutual friend, Kendrick. Jada had met him only twice—once when they’d passed through Avi’s home town of Washington, D.C., and again two years later when Avi had some business in Oakland.
“Thank you,” Marsh said to the attendant. “And please feel free to take a break. We’ll call if there’s anything we need.”
Marsh didn’t want an audience, even if only to overhear disjointed pieces of the story. No tidbit should be heard by any stranger’s ears. By then, Jada had risen from her seat, which faced the cockpit, and turned toward where Marsh stood, hands on his hips and overcome with a sense of dread. In all the times Avi had ever called on him, it had never been with such urgency—never with a call he was meant to take mid-air.
“Sometimes I lend Avi the plane,” Marsh admitted to Jada once he was sure the flight attendant was gone.
Jada blinked. It took her a moment to register surprise. “This plane?” By the time Marsh nodded, she was on to the next question: “People lend other people planes?”
“Private jets are faster than commercial,” Marsh pointed out reasonably. “They fly higher and faster. And you don’t have to spend two hours in the airport checking in.”
“Why would a youth mentor be in such a hurry to get from place to place?”
Of course Jada would recall Avi’s decoy profession. Marsh sighed, his hope of a relaxing flight and maybe even some sexy times in the bedroom lost.
“He’s not just a youth mentor,” The vow of confidence Marsh had taken said that details could be shared among married spouses. Jada would be married to him soon enough. “Avi’s got a side hustle. One that requires the occasional use of my plane.”
“A side hustle?” Jada repeated, stepping closer.
By then, Marsh was standing by the desk, his hand poised to pick up the phone. In a minute he’d tell her about it all: what he really did on guy’s weekends, about the justice he really served, and what he’d really spent $100 million on. For the time being, he only looked pointedly at Jada.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about Avi.”
Did you like Crazy Old Money? This isn’t the last you’ll hear from Jada and Marsh. But first, check out the prequel to Avi and Jasmine’s story, called Vertical. Both stories are part of The Hexagon Universe, a world that features an intricate network of social justice fighters bent on infiltrating the system. Remember Kendrick, the friend Marsh mentioned in reference to how he spends his money? Yeah…Marsh is using his billions to fund a vigilante justice operation.
Kendrick’s story—the main story in The Hexagon Universe—is my CIMRWA Award-winning novel called The Benefactor. If you want to keep tabs on when that releases, join my mailing list and you’ll get all the news. For a steamy read that connects to this universe, check out Snapdragon, my ten-time award-winning debut novel. The hero and heroine (Darby and Michael) are tied into all of this as well.
Or, if you think I’m funny, read some of my other Romantic Comedy. My young adult novel, Friended, is a hilariously-awkward first love nostalgia story with a 90s music theme. The Art of Worship is an erotic rom-com novella about a virginal 18-year-old who turns to his dad for sex advice.
And—love it or hate it—please, please, please leave a review and follow me on BookBub!
About Kilby Blades
Kilby Blades is a 40-time-award-winning author of Romance and Women's Fiction. Her debut novel, Snapdragon, was a HOLT Medallion finalist, a Publisher’s Weekly BookLife Prize Semi-Finalist, and an IPPY Award medalist. Kilby was honored with an RSJ Emma Award for Best Debut Author in 2018, and has been lauded by critics for “easing feminism and equality into her novels” (IndieReader) and “writing characters who complement each other like a fine wine does a good meal” (Publisher’s Weekly).
When she's not writing, Kilby goes to movie matinees alone, where she eats Chocolate Pocky and buttered popcorn and usually smuggles in not-a-little-bit of red wine. She procrastinates from the difficult process of writing by oversharing on Facebook and Instagram and giving away cool stuff related to her fiction novels to her newsletter subscribers.
Also by Kilby Blades
Young Adult and New Adult Rom-Com
Friended (Modern Love #1)
Ended? (Modern Love #2)
The Art of Worship: A Novella
* * *
Contemporary Romance (The Hexagon Universe)
Snapdragon
Chry
salis
Crazy Old Money: A BWWM Billionaire Rom-Com Novella
Vertical: A BWWM Romantic Women’s Fiction Novella
* * *
Contemporary Gay Romance
Adam Bomb (Moguls, Royals & Rogues #1)
* * *
Romantic Women’s Fiction
The Secret Ingredient: A Curvy Girl Small Town Culinary Romance
* * *
The “Worst Day Ever” Anthology Series
Worst Holiday Ever: A Family Drama Romance Anthology (note: this contains a redux version of Crazy Old Money)
Worst Valentine’s Day Ever: A Lonely Hearts Romance Anthology
* * *
Non-Fiction
The Book Marketing Audit
The Book Reviews Booster
Marketing Steamy Romance