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“Well?”
She sighs and leans forward, hand on my desk. “Well, what?”
“You were there at one of my charity events. And that—” I point my pen at the folder “—is a billion-dollar foundation I’m setting up. Does my dead father want blood?”
She stands suddenly, her face a cool mask. “Don’t, Magnus. That level of callous disregard is—”
“What he made me and you know it. And I’m not complaining. I’m fantastic at what I do, Mother. I care about the legacy of our family company, but between you and me, I don’t give a shit about earrings. If it was just the company, I’d probably let all these stupid games he’s making me play go. But my brothers care. So… here I am. A performing monkey.”
“That isn’t what this is about, Magnus.” She crosses to the floor to ceiling window and stares a moment out into the gunmetal gray day.
I follow her. “Then tell me. I’ll save the damn jewels so Ryder can get his share, and the company to keep everyone happy. And I’ll do it without wasting time.”
She looks up at me. “Your father had some kind of plan he wants played out. He wasn’t a good husband…”
He wasn’t a good father, either, but I keep that to myself. Because it’s not really something I’ve focused on in the way I am now. And my mother…we’re closer to her than we were to him. But he had a variety of wives, all younger versions of my mother. And so I don’t get why or how she remained close to him. Love? Their fucked up version?
It’s not my place and it’s not my arena of life. Making money is.
“But he did love all of you.”
I just nod. “Is that all?”
“How’s the girl?”
“What girl?”
But she isn’t buying it. My mother smiles. “Zoey.”
Heat prickles down along my spine. “You remember her name?”
My mother places her palm against my shaved cheek. “I told you she’s different from your usual type. And yes, I get you said you’re helping her, but you looked at her in a way that I’ve never seen.”
“Oh good God, please don’t go reading into things.”
I say this with sarcasm and intended bored cynicism. Except…except it doesn’t come out that way. The words are soft, with a tinge of something I don’t like, so I ignore them and she doesn’t say a word.
She just looks past me to my desk. “You didn’t open your present.”
“I never got around to it. I’ve been busy. I can do it now.”
“That wasn’t my point…” My mother stops and shakes her head, sighing. “It’s nothing much, Magnus, but it’s not…” She shakes her head again. “Sometimes things are more than what they might seem.”
“Like my foundation.”
“Everything you’ve done looks good. Great even. But Magnus, I think it’s worth repeating myself. Heart might not mean what you think it does. Money really isn’t everything.”
I laugh and cross the floorboards, back to my desk, my gaze falling on the neatly wrapped gift. She has a point, I should have opened it. That’s the polite thing to do. But we don’t give out that many gifts, not unless it’s something coveted by one of us. After all, we can just buy shit ourselves.
And I’m not an idiot. I get the whole thought that counts bullshit.
“Money is, Mother, and you know it.”
“Do I?”
I look at her, sitting on the corner of my desk as I pick up the small, light gift. “Yes. After all, why stay so close to our father? You’re not the sadist type.”
She just smiles and comes over and kisses my cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”
