Page 3 of Blood on the Rocks

Seraphina noticed that even Trista, clacking away at her keyboard with her lavender-painted acrylics, rolled her eyes. She smothered a smile, glad she wasn’t the only one completely annoyed with Alan’s pomp.

“Shut up, Alan.”

Katella bit her lip to keep from laughing but Seraphina had to blink once, twice, in order to truly believe that the words she desperately wanted to say had come not out of her mouth or even Katella’s mouth, but Ryan’s. She still couldn’t tell if her uncle was sober or not – maybe he got like this when he was a bit tipsy – but she was immediately stricken by the cold gaze he was giving his older brother. It was that gaze, the icy stare, that sent shivers down her spine and was one of the few reasons why she was actually afraid of Ryan.

Before Alan could say something, because Alan was the type of person who wouldn’t allow an insult on his pride to go without answer, the door opened and both Henry Wayne and Simon Spade walked in. Seraphina wondered if they drove together or if they happened to have met in the parking lot and decided to walk in together. Not that it really mattered now.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Simon said after making his way over to Katella.

Seraphina shared a look with Henry Wayne, a man she had known for her entire life. It wasn’t uncommon for him to come over to Papa’s house on the weekends so the two friends could play pool together, talking about business and pop culture and how society has only gone downhill. He knew her well enough not to apologize for her grandfather’s loss; he knew how much her grandfather meant to her. But it always interested her to see that people would automatically relate their condolences to Katella rather than Seraphina. Certainly Katella was older, but both sisters loved their grandfather equally, and though he had two different relationships with them, she knew he loved them just as equally.

Simon Spade had been Papa’s financial advisor strictly for the hockey team and anything related to the franchise for the duration of the Gulls’ existence. Both sisters had only met Simon a few times, with Katella having a few more meetings with him given that she helped coordinate events for the team and needed to talk about the budget. He looked friendly, like any grandfather might look, with white hair combed over his bald head, warm, brown eyes, and a smile that put anyone instantly at ease. For whatever reason, he wore pressed white gloves like a butler might wear – she thought Katella mentioned him being a germaphobe or something like that a while ago – and walked with a nice cane. Though Papa wasn’t as close to him as he was with Henry, Simon seemed polite and genuine, and his eyes seemed to hold a sadness at the fact that Ken was gone.

“All right everyone,” a short, older man said from the doorway to the middle office, just left of where Trista and her desk were placed. He clapped his hands together once as his eyes drifted over everyone, making sure to give each person a few seconds of personal attention. “Thank you all so much for coming. If you would just follow me, we can get this started.”

Seraphina hung back with Katella, watching as their two uncles, Henry, and Simon entered the office before they joined them. Simon and Henry were also dressed somewhat formally – both in slacks and collared shirts – though Simon’s gloves and his polished cane made him look much more sophisticated than anyone else in the room. If only he had a monocle... Seraphina chuckled under her breath. Katella gave her a warning look, but her lips curled up into a smile, almost though she knew what her younger sister was thinking.

Once everyone had filed into the slightly larger room, Katella and Seraphina took the only two seats offered while Ryan leaned against the right corner of the room, his blue eyes reverted to the maroon carpet beneath him, Richard stood by Seraphina’s left, his arms behind his back and his shoulders pushed back, and Simon and Henry standing in the left portion of the room. Both sisters offered the older gentlemen their seats, but both were politely declined.

“Okay,” Earl said, his deep voice vibrating against the inside of his throat. His thin-wired glasses were dangerously close to sliding off his pointed nose as he looked at the papers before him. “I’m glad you could all come and on such short notice.” He passed out papers to everyone before taking a seat at his desk. “Before we begin, let me explain that Ken requested that each of you get your own personal copy of his will and testament and wanted me to explicitly state that any argument against it in court will result in automatic disqualification for any rewards you may or may not receive.”

Earl looked over at the two men not related to the parties involved. “Mr. Wayne and Mr. Spade, Ken wanted you present because the information provided directly involves the two of you and he wanted you to hear it from me directly the status of where you stand with the Gulls as a team,” he explained. “He also wanted you both as witnesses to the reading. So while you aren’t directly receiving anything, there’s pertinent information Ken believed you should receive along with the disbursements of his estate.”

Seraphina watched as Alan read ahead, obviously only caring about he got out of it. She, on the other hand, opted to wait for Earl to explain everything to her in a way she could understand; she didn’t want to guess what Papa might have meant about certain things. One look at Ryan proved that he hadn’t even looked at the papers – hell, he might not even be aware that they’re in his hand.

“Both surviving sons,” Earl began, his eyes skimming the document Seraphina was certain he had memorized, “each get one hundred thousand dollars, to be distributed in increments every three months of five thousand dollars, given that they take drug and alcohol tests and get negative test results each time.”

“What does that mean?” Alan said, and Seraphina could detect the strain of patience in his voice. From the way his fingers were gripping the sheets of white paper, her uncle did not look happy with the result.

“It means,” Earl said, none too pleased to have been rudely interrupted, “that one hundred thousand dollars goes to you, but you do not get the entire thing at once. Instead, Ken wanted you and your brother to be on a payment plan: every three months you get five thousand dollars if you pass and drug and alcohol test distributed randomly. As the successor of his will, the time and location of your tests will be at my discretion, but I am open to ensuring that it is not too far from your current residence.”

“What if I’m on painkillers?” Alan said. His voice was losing the hold of patience already and they had only begun to read Papa’s will.

“Any prescription medication you and Ryan are on shall be disclosed once the reading is finished,” Earl stated. “Anything else is subject to fail the test.”

“And what if we do fail?”

“The money is split evenly between Seraphina and Katella.” Great. Yet another reason for Alan to hate his only nieces. Seraphina wasn’t sure if hate was the correct word to describe his disdain he had for her and her sister, but it certainly felt like it and for the life of her, she couldn’t fathom why that was.

Alan smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Seraphina thought it looked like a smile that resulted from someone slowly losing their grip on their sanity. “I don’t understand,” was all he managed to say.

“Ken wanted both of you“ – here, he looked both at Alan and Ryan – “to learn from your mistakes. He stressed the fact that his two sons were supposed to be independent adults, not two men who depended on outside stimuli. If you can’t control your urges in regards to drugs and alcohol, he did not think you should be rewarded, and he specifically said that he was through giving the two of you second chances, lending the two of you money to start up a business or to buy a house, only to see that business fail to get off the ground or that house to foreclose months later. Why would he reward you for doing something he was so adamant against?”

Though Alan said nothing in response, Seraphina could feel him seething in anger. She looked over at her sister, to see if she could feel it too, and when she locked eyes with Katella, she knew that she wasn’t the only one who could sense it. Alan’s temper, like Ryan’s, was unpredictable, but unlike Ryan, it didn’t just happen when he was drunk. If anything, his anger flared when he was forced to maintain composure, like right now.

Earl kept firm eye contact with Alan, almost as though he was daring the younger man to refuse, to claim how unfair it was. When Alan remained quiet, Earl continued.

“Everything else is split down the middle between Katella and Seraphina, including his bank accounts, his primary place of residence, the property he owns, and any income generated from the Seagulls,” Earl concluded. He looked only at the two women in the room. “What this means, ladies, is that you can choose to keep or sell the residential home as well as the rentals, and whatever income generated is split down the middle between the two of you. If you keep everything, the revenue from the rentals is also split.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Alan snarled as he lost complete control of himself. “These girls are in their goddamn early twenties and already are multi-millionaires without doing anything except kissing ass?”

Seraphina could feel her own temper start to flare. It wasn’t because of his anger at them getting the majority of the money or even that he believed she and Katella didn’t deserve it, but to think that they were kissing ass rather than loving and caring about her grandfather - Before Seraphina could say something, Katella reached over and wrapped her cool, long fingers around her sister’s forearm and squeezed gently but firmly. It was a warning to keep her mouth shut, and even though Seraphina desperately wanted to defend herself, she bit down on her tongue in order to do as suggested.

“Are you arguing with the will, Mr. Brown?” Earl asked coolly, leaning against the leather back of his chair and raising an eyebrow.

“I just don’t understand it, that’s all,” Alan said through gritted teeth.

“You don’t need to understand it,” Earl said and then looked away, entirely dismissing any concern Alan had about the fairness of the will. “The last bit of the will also needs to be discussed before you are all free to leave, which is just what Ken wanted done with the hockey team the Newport Beach Seagulls.”

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