Page 26 of Share with Me

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Page 26 of Share with Me

Before she could retort, Dad continued. “I’m calling June.”

Ah, bring in the family attorney.

“She should be able to help us figure this out.”

“I’m not involved, Dad. Please.”

“You’re in it, whether you like it or not. If she loses her trust fund, you and Dill are going to have to support her when your mom and I are gone.”

“Dad.”

“It’s hard to talk about, but we’ll all die one day, Brin.”

Brin blinked.

“And Zoe is going to be the death of me.”

“No, Dad. Please don’t talk like that.”

“It’s the truth.”

Then Brinley realized Dad wasn’t really talking about his children. It was his fortune he was referring to. Somehow he must not have approved of Quincy, and perhaps his entire family. Dad must not have met Yun or Ivan.

Or Dad had already called Helen Hu, the private investigator who was ensconced in Vienna tracking down her violin, to look into the McMillans’ background. He had done that when Brinley was dating her ex-boyfriends, and most recently, Phinn.

“What’s the matter with her?” Dad droned on.

“Mom?” Brinley asked.

“Your sister. She can’t keep a relationship. Why iswhatishisnameany different? Why did they have to get married?”

“For love?”

“Love?” Dad burst out laughing. “You’re not that naive, Brinley.”

“My generation is returning to that which used to work, Dad. Like Grandpa’s generation. Love, marriage, children.”

“Seriously?”

Brinley wasn’t a hundred percent sure she was right, but she wished it. Believed it. “A third grandchild, Dad. Won’t you be happy?”

“I will be as soon as I see a prenup.” Dad’s shoulders slumped.

“Kind of late for that, don’t you think?”

“We can work it in.”

“The prenup?” After the fact? “If Quincy will sign it.”

“Is that his name?” Dad rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve worked hard to maintain the family fortune. I don’t want to see it disappear into a black hole because I haven’t been paying attention to what my youngest daughter is doing.”

“She’s twenty-five as of this morning, Dad.”

“Acting like fifteen.”

Brinley didn’t want to go there. She walked around the ottoman and rubbed Dad’s shoulders.

“You’ve always been good to me, Brin.” Dad reached for her hand. His was warm and big and getting stronger every day.


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