Page 55 of Just for Tonight

He scowls at me and I remember that he’s supposed to be working at Cavendish Enterprises now. I guess he makes his own hours since our father gave him Mike’s job. “You are an asshole, Jake.”

“Yes. And you do not own that car.” I lift my hand a little higher.

“You won’t get away with it, you know. You can’t just take all of Dad’s money and screw us over,” he fumes as he marches toward the car. “You can’t cut us out because you don’t like us, Jake. The law doesn’t work that way.”

“No, the lack of money changes all the rules.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s gone, Ethan. The money is all gone.” I say it one more time, but no one looks convinced yet. “There are no spoils to divide, just bills to pay. And the only way to pay them is to sell whatever assets exist.” I raise my gaze, letting them watch as I survey the house. When I look back at them, their expressions are horrified.

A gesture sometimes is worth a thousand words.

Candace is pale and shaking as she steps toward me. “Not the house,” she whispers, then shouts. “Not the house! It’s my house. I built this house. I designed this house. I love this house. You can’t take away my house, Jacob Cavendish, no matter how much you hate me!”

“That’s why we’re doing this, Candace. I’m trying to save your house for you.”

She tries to slap me but I see it coming and retreat a step.

The flatbed driver goes about his business with the indifference of a man following a routine.

“You’re getting a show today,” I murmur to him.

“Seen it all before,” he says quietly and we finalize on the Mustang.

“You,” Candace seethes at me as the truck negotiates the driveway. “You always hated me. You’re doing this to get even, but it wasn’t my fault your mother died. It wasn’t my fault your father loved me!”

“But it is your fault, Candace, that the money is gone.” I remain visibly calm and speak with precision. The fact that I’m delivering a monologue should warn them that I’m furious, but these people know nothing about me. “You spent it. You pissed away everyone’s legacy, and now all these treasures that are so precious to you have to be sold to pay your bills.”

“You can’t cheat me…”

“I’m not cheating you. This entire situation is of your own creation. I’m really glad I don’t need an inheritance because there isn’t one for anybody.”

There is a beat of silence.

“You mean, there’s nothing?” Ethan says.

“Pretty much. I’m hoping we come out on the right side of things when all is said and done, but I’m not optimistic.” Okay, that was mean, but I’m done with this and them. “Good thing they don’t have debtor’s prison anymore.”

“But my house,” Candace whispers. “Jacob, you can’t do this. I have to have my house. I have to!”

And that’s when I snap. I have been patient. I have explained. One of these three has keyed my car. There is no upside for anyone, which is probably exactly the way my father wanted it.

I turn back to her and I know my expression is icy. I’m really glad Mackenzie put me in touch with Paula duBois, that real estate agent in Havelock. I texted her earlier in the morning and now I have data, at least about one of my father’s properties. (Of course, she knows this house.)

“Okay, Candace, you want the house at any price. Here’s the number. You need about ten million bucks to clear off all the debt and stay in the house.” She gasps and falls back, her hand at her breast. If she was wearing pearls, she would clutch them. “And then you’ll need operating expenses covered, like property taxes, utilities and maintenance. That’s got to be ten thousand a month on this place, if not more. I don’t see how you’re going to do that without any financial assets of your own, but maybe you have a plan. Maybe you should start buying lottery tickets.” She raises her hand again, as if she’ll slap me for her stupidity, and I retreat a step. “It would be great if you let me know whether you can manage that or not. If you can’t, I’ll send a real estate agent by.”

Candace gasps, that detail making her realize the magnitude of the problem, and collapses sobbing on Madison’s shoulder.

“And what are we supposed to do?” Ethan demands.

“I don’t know. Get a job. Marry money. Sell some of the assets you have.” I shrug, knowing they’ll be lucky to get ten cents on the dollar for most of that stuff. “You’ll think of something. I hope.” I stroll down the driveway then, heading for my car as if I haven’t got a care in the world.

Truth is I’m rattled. Shaken and stirred. Anybody would be. I don’t like that I had to do that, but I knew they wouldn’t listen to reason, much less any suggestions from me. Austerity is not a popular sell for people who live to consume. You saw how hard it was for them to process a very simple truth, that the money is gone.

And because I did it this way, in six or eight months, there just might be a little something for each of them. No guarantees but I’ll give it my best shot. I’m not that much of a dick.

First things first. I had to keep the wolves from the door. That’s done, for maybe thirty days. It gives me some time and space.