Page 76 of Stone Rules

I take her down the east hallway first. It’s the safest place to start. This is where I have my home office. Across from that is my workout room. And down at the end of the hall is a home theater.

“How do you live in such an extravagant place, yet you seem to live such a regular life? I mean, you take me out for burgers instead of Filet Mignon. You take cabs instead of having your own car and driver.”

“Oh, I have a car . . . er, cars. I just don’t use them much. I grew up with money, Charlie, as I’m sure you did before you left home, although I know you didn’t get to see the benefits of it like I did. It’s not a big deal to me. I mean, yes, it’s great. And it makes life a lot easier. But—rule number fifteen—money doesn’t always make life better.”

She narrows her eyes at me, chewing on the inside of her cheek in thought. “What happened to rule fourteen?”

So shehasbeen paying attention. “Oh, did I skip one?”

“Yes, you did.”

“Hmmm.” I shrug, leading her through the doorway into the theater room.

“You know, you’ll have to deal with your own inheritance soon enough,” I tell her. “Have you made any plans for that yet?”

“No. I’m not even sure I want her money, Ethan. The first life insurance check came a few days ago. I put it up on the refrigerator. I couldn’t get myself to deposit it in the bank. I feel like it’s blood money.”

I turn her toward me and put my hands on her shoulders. “Deposit the check, Charlie. It won’t do anyone any good if you don’t, least of all your mother. You deserve it. You deserve it and so much more. If you don’t want it for yourself, then donate it to charity. But don’t not take the money just to spite her.”

“You’re right.” She nods her head in hesitant agreement. “I know you’re right. It’s just hard that’s all. I know I need to deposit it. How else am I going to pay you?”

“You’re not going to pay me, Charlie. It’s already off the books, so don’t even try.”

“But you used resources to help me, Ethan. It wouldn’t be fair.”

I motion my hand around the massive room we’re still standing in. The one with the fifteen-foot projection screen. “Do I look like I won’t survive if I don’t get a couple of hundred bucks?” I ask her.

“That’s not the point,” she pouts. “I’m paying you. You can donate it to charity if you want.”

“Touché.” I laugh, knowing I’ve lost this one.

“Come on.” She tugs on my hand. “Show me the rest.”

We walk back down the hallway and through the living room to the west wing. I feel a little uneasy as we make our way towards the bedrooms. I show her the guest room my mother decorated. And then I take her to the master bedroom at the end of the hall. The master has the same view as the living room, looking out onto the city through a wall of windows.

She gasps at the view I wake up to every day. “How do you ever sleep with all the sunlight that comes in?” she asks.

I walk over to the bedside table and push a button on the remote. Room-darkening shades travel down the entire length of the windows, sealing at the bottom, making the room almost completely dark.

She’s standing near the doorway, so she becomes this enchanting silhouette, shrouded by the dim light from the kitchen down the hall. She’s turned slightly to the side and for the first time, I notice the distinct roundness of her baby bump and the sight of it takes my breath away. It takes every ounce of my will not to throw her onto my bed and claim her as mine.

“Can I see the bathroom, or is that too personal?” she asks, breaking my moment of magic.

I open the shades, letting light back into the dark room as I wave her into the bathroom.

“Holy shit,” she says, when she sees it.

There are two separate vanities on either side of the bathroom, each end of which leads back to one side of a massive shower that meets in the middle and overlooks a sunken tub that sits in the center of the large room. The tub has pillars on all four sides, making it look like something out of a Greek play.

I’ve always thought the bathroom was a bit over-the-top, especially for a single guy. But the way she looks at it, like how a starving man eyes a steak, I realize I’ve never liked it more. I think about how much I would like to see her makeup on the vanity. Her shampoo in the shower. Her clothes in my closet.

“Just . . . wow,” she says, admiring every inch of it the way I want her to admire every inch of me.

I’m jealous of a damn bathroom.

“Come on,” I say. “There is one more room for you to see.”

We walk back out into the hallway and I point to a closed door across from the master.

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