But only a little, I swear.
“Fine. Then stop thinking like the old Harry.”
I flinch at the nickname Mom gave me to show my brothers how much she favored me. Too many bad memories there.
Nate continues, “Think like the new Court. Like a billionaire.”
“I won’t be one until after Friday.”
He waves a hand. “What would Tony do?”
I give Nate a strange look. “Lie?”
“Okay, yeah, but that’s not—”
“Make everyone else lie to cover up the lie?”
“No, I mea—”
“Shoot a guy?”
“No! Look, shut up for a minute. What I mean is, he wouldn’t have waited for the promotion. And
there are ways to get her to see you now. What does she do?”
“An analyst at a private wealth management firm.”
He sits up. “Perfect! Open an account there and insist that she manage it for you. A hundred million will get you whatever you want.”
Huh. “That isn’t even that much money.”
“I know, right? But it’ll be enough. And getting a new account should get her noticed. So when she gets promoted, she’ll have you to thank and won’t stick to her silly rule. And if she doesn’t get promoted this year… Well, you can just drop by every so often to discuss the portfolio.”
“Right. Like every day.”
He spreads his hands. “Why not?”
“A hundred million is a fortune,” I say, making my face look oh-so-serious.
“A huge one. Very concerning amount. Enough to make you want to check in as often as possible.”
“You’re a genius.”
Nate leans back, cocks an eyebrow and swirls his wine. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Chapter Fifteen
Court
On Saturday, I wake up a new man.
Well, not a new man, but a billionaire.
Dad’s lawyer changed everything solely into my name yesterday. And I swear, the heavens opened up this morning, bathing me in radiant light. Somewhere cherubs are playing harps and singing to celebrate this occasion. Probably drinking mead, too, and getting ready to have a little cherub orgy.
Even the shower water feels softer and sweeter. It’s like the world is happy for me—except Dad, of course. Hard to try to control me now that I’m one hundred percent independent.
Billionaire or not, I take my Maserati to Tony’s house to raid his wine cellar. Although I’m pretty decent with wine, a man’s got to recognize his limitations. My brother is much better with vintages and so on, and his collection is phenomenal.