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“Hmm? Oh, yeah, that’s fine.” She waves nervously as she opens the folder in her hands and studies it.
“Got the winning lottery numbers in it?” I pour us each a glass and hand her one, but she doesn’t seem to hear my question.
“So anyway, how did you meet my dad?” She takes the glass from me and sips it as we walk toward the barstools and take a seat.
“I guess I assumed you knew how we met but I’m happy to share. About ten years ago he reached out to me, to my foundation actually. He wanted to make a rather large donation but wanted it to remain anonymous. When he told the donation coordinator the amount, she immediately called me. We have donation thresholds. Once a donor reaches a certain amount, usually anything over a million, I personally call them and talk about why they want to donate, how we will use the funds and so on.”
“How much did my dad donate?”
I laugh. “Twenty million.”
“Twenty million?” Her eyes grow large. "Jonas Ramsay? You’re sure it was my father who donated twenty million dollars to charity?” She laughs and shakes her head.
“Now that I think about it”—I spin the wineglass between my fingers—“ten years ago would be right around the time you changed your last name.” She looks up at me from her glass. “Your father told me. Maybe it was his way of paying penance?”
She nods her head, taking a healthy gulp of wine.
“Maybe. I guess that would make sense. He knows how much charity and nonprofits mean to me and—or did—mean to my mom.”
“So that’s how we met. Of course I knew who your father was, everyone does, but I’d never formally met him. I invited him for a round of golf at my club to discuss the foundation and his donation and we ended up setting up a weekly game. The rest is history. Why do you ask?”
She shrugs but there’s clearly something on her brain. “I guess I wondered how someone as charitable and involved in giving back to his community like you ended up friends with… well, he just isn’t as nice as you.”
I laugh. “No, he’s not but that’s one of the things I like about him. Being that he’s a decade older than me, I was still in my thirties when I met him and he taught me some invaluable lessons. He taught me about being firm in my decisions and not second-guessing my gut. He also taught me about how to not completely fuck up in business and how to always be prepared for something to go sideways. But most importantly, he taught me the value of time.”
“Meaning?”
“He told me it was okay to be selfish with how I spent my time and with whom. He told me back then on that golf course and several times since. ‘Beckham, you can always make more money. You can always make more friends. You can always buy more stuff, but you can never get more time. Time is the great equalizer among men.’ That stuck with me and made me realize that he’s right; it’s okay to be protective with how we spend our time because no matter how hard I work or how many deals I win, it won’t give me more time on this earth. When it’s my time, it’s my time.”
“That’s interesting, pretty profound actually.”
I reach over and tuck her hair behind her ear. “That’s why I said that maybe he was paying penance with that donation. Obviously, money will never change how he treated you and your mother, but giving that money to families in need maybe made him feel some sort of relief from his guilt of losing so much time with you… even if it was only for a second.” She nuzzles her cheek against the palm of my hand for a moment, her warm smile instantly making the pace of my heart kick up a few beats. “All that to say, what do you need to talk to me about?”
She doesn’t say anything, just pushes the folder she’s been gripping across the counter toward me. Confused, I pick it up and flip it open, scanning it briefly. It’s a trust in her name, that’s very clear. I drop my gaze down to the bottom where I see the dollar figure.
“Wow.” I whistle and shut the folder, placing it back on the counter. “Is this your way of putting in your notice?” I smile and it makes her laugh.
“No, this is my way of telling you I need your advice.”
“I’m flattered but I would suggest you reach out to my personal finance guy. I can give you his card.”
She shakes her head. “When my dad explained all of this to me last night, where the money came from and whatnot, he didn’t even ask me what my plan was… He just told me what he felt I should do.” She raises her hands as if to defend herself already. “I know, he’s obviously extremely smart, being that he’s a gazillionaire, but he doesn’t care about what I want to do with the money. He feels I should use the bulk of it to create some sort of sustainable, passive income that will grow in time and set me and my future generations up for success. When I asked him about donating some of it, I couldn’t even finish my sentence before he shut it down. He told me I could donate some of it, but that he and my mom didn’t work as hard as they did for me to just piss it all away.”
Her face contorts with the last statement and I understand that Jonas has a way of not mincing words. If anyone can be so blunt it’s hurtful, it’s Jonas.
“I’m sure he didn’t mean that it would be pissing it away if you gave some to charity. He’s probably just worried that you’ll give it all away and not create a future for yourself.”
“Doubtful.” She rolls her eyes. “It’s just—it’s not fair and it’s such a double standard that he can donate twenty million to your foundation, but if I tried that, he’d freak out and tell me I’m pissing it away?”
“Brontë, when he donated that amount to my charity, he was already a billionaire several times over. Twenty million was a drop in the bucket to him.”
“Exactly, he should have given more!”
“I’m just saying he already had a future established for him and his family and future generations, including you, when he made that donation. If you wanted to donate that amount, it’s almost fifty percent of your net worth.”
“If he already has his future generations set up for success that would include me then, right?” I nod in agreement. “Then why the hell does he care what I do with this money? When he dies, he’ll just be passing everything along to his kids anyway.”
“And will you take that money and keep it or donate it?”
