Somehow yelling into the air made me feel better as I got ready. I didn’t put on a nice blouse or even a cute dress. Instead, I threw on a black bikini and a yellow tank over it. I pulled on my board shorts and headed out.
I wasn’t getting ready for any of them. I’d go surf right after the meeting and put the whole damn thing behind me.
I took my time, letting my old pick up idle along. Jonah had gifted it to me on my seventeenth birthday and it looked perfectly out of place in the law firm’s parking lot. When I arrived at last, Bastian’s eyebrows rose as he looked me over.
No surprise, he wore his normal navy suit and Dante sat there on his phone. I rolled my eyes at them, but when I spotted the estate lawyer and another man sitting in the room, I almost apologized for my attire and the fact I was right on time.
Of course, everyone else had been ten minutes early.
Instead, I took the last empty seat and presented my identification when asked.
“Well, I appreciate you all being here today. I’m Mr. Finley and Maribel asked me to present the will to you all rather than mail it.” The thin man with wiry glasses announced as he shifted some paperwork on his worn desk. “It’s not under great circumstances, but your grandmother got this will together years ago and has updated it time and time again. It was important to her that you were all here to understand her terms.”
My stomach flipped at his words. This was the one place grandma didn’t have me come with her. We’d done the funeral planning together. The banks and this part though–she’d said over and over, I’ll iron it out myself. Then, she’d send me off to the food truck or I’d try to go volunteer at the humane society.
“So.” Mr. Finley’s bony pointer finger pointed to the ceiling. “This is a will with a few quirks, which is why we also have Mr. Armanelli’s lawyer here.”
I narrowed my eyes and glared at my one-night-stand-turned-nightmare. He’d brought his freaking lawyer? “How convenient,” I grumbled.
Mr. Finley cleared his throat. “I’ll be honest, your grandma’s note to you explains everything in layman's terms, but I’ll do that too for you now.” He handed me a letter.
“I’m sorry. This is from my grandma?” I gripped the letter a little harder.
“Yes. She wrote it specifically for you after she finished her final changes to the will.”
The date on the envelope was only a couple of days before her death. “She died two days later,” I whispered. This letter held words from her that she’d never told me. It was a way to hear her thoughts one last time; a connection that carried past her dying. When I read this letter, I wouldn’t be alone for those two minutes. She’d talk to me one last time.
A lone tear spilled from my eye and I quickly swiped it away. When I glanced up, Bastian studied me with a frown on his face. Did he understand the pain of losing someone you loved? Of being all alone?
His frown fell away to an apathetic stare. Of course he didn’t.
I turned away and sat taller in my seat. “I’ll read this later. I’d like to hear the terms of her will so we can all be on our way.”
“That’s fine.” The lawyer went over some legal jargon and stated that the will held the final say in everything. Then, he went on to a story I’d never heard. “Your great great grandfather was the founder of Tropical Oil and Fuel. He ran the ports, the tank farms, and the transfers.”
“My great great grandfather?” I raised my eyebrows, completely confused by any mention of the oil company that ran the town. We had no ties to that.
“Yes, he came from Ireland with a good amount of money already. He utilized that and his connections to start this business.”
Bastian shifted in his seat, nodding to Dante who pulled out his stupid phone.
“They formed a lot of partnerships. Your grandma was a woman who made things happen. She had ties back to Ireland. So, the partners let the company run this way. They won’t do that any longer. They want the company sold to Ronald who has shares in this company and owns their competitor, ShellOil.”
I scoffed at the name. The town knew it very well. That company wanted to make the tanks, the ports, everything corporate. They would push the terminals to their limits. “Well that’s never happening. Tropical Oil hates ShellOil.”
“Your grandma hated them,” he corrected me. “She had a majority vote in the dealings of your town’s company. Without that, Tropical Oil will be sold to the highest bidder. We all know who that will be.”
Pieces of my life started to fall more into place. The way grandma would watch the news on that oil plant with so much passion or how she’d be furious if something went wrong with it. I just thought she cared about the town, and maybe she had, but now many more things made sense.
“But everyone hates them. I mean–”
“The board is willing to sell.” The lawyer cleared his throat. “They want to sell.”
I turned and glared at Bastian.
“And you? Are you here to get your share of it too?”
“If she gives me some of it, Morina, I’m here to be a part of whatever she wanted me to be. I’ve made it known to everyone that I want those shares. I explained my plans for cleaner energy, for making your city thrive. I won’t sell. I’ll make the company better. I wanted to do it legally, without the partnerships you’ve all been nurturing.”