Page 78 of Filthy Rich

He presses a finger to my mouth. “Your mother is bad. She might be worse than the mothers who don’t feed their children. Anyone in the world can feed a child that’s hungry. Anyone in the world can wrap them in a blanket.” He crouches until he’s staring right at me. “But it takes a mother to convince such a gorgeous woman to believe the outrageous lie that she’s ugly, and your mother has done that. I don’t know why, but she’s never doing it again. No one is.” He runs one finger down the left side of my face so lightly, so slowly, that I can barely feel it. “You, Octavia Rothschild, are the most stunning woman I have ever seen. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again and again until you finally start believing it.”

Chapter 18

Jake

One of my dad’s favorite plays was to convince some rich guy that I was his kid. He’d ask for some kind of finder’s fee, and then, like the little liar I was, after Dad got it, and after I’d convinced the poor man that I was his perfect, shining star, I’d escape out a window and he’d never find me again.

I’ve always worried that now that I’ve ‘made it,’ someone might recognize me and come after me for my part in the duplicity.

Thankfully, our faces change a lot in adolescence.

In fact, sometimes people I knew in junior high come shrieking up to me and I don’t recognize them at all. I always try to be as nice as possible, because I’m hoping all the karma I didn’t earn as a kid might be replaced by my generosity as an adult.

I’m not sure that donating a large chunk of my paycheck will really make up for the kinds of things Dad and I did, but it can’t hurt. I suppose today’s the day I find out what kind of life is possible. If the best people I’ve met are all liars, then maybe goodness is just unattainable. Now that I’ve reached the inn, Octavia by my side, I’m absurdly nervous.

“What will you do if Seren’s here?” Octavia asks.

“That’s why we’re here at exactly seven-fifteen,” I say. “She’s always leading the staff meeting right now—the few night shift workers are leaving, very few people are stupid enough to be checking out now, and the day shift people are just showing up to clean. As they change over the front desk tasks, Seren meets with everyone.”

I’m just lifting my hand to knock when Octavia asks, “How many employees do the Fansees have?”

I freeze. “Really? That’s what you want to know right now?”

She slides her arm through the space between my body and my elbow. “You look like you’re marching to the town square to stand in front of a gun-squad.” She bumps me with her hip. “You need to relax. So yes, how many employees do your parents have?”

“Dave and Seren had fifteen, last I checked,” I say. “But one or two of those only comes on weekends.” Before I can knock, Dave whips the door open.

He’s smiling his enormous, eye-sparkling smile. “Jake!” He hugs me immediately, dragging my body against his.

“How’d you know I was here?” I barely manage to gasp.

“We got the new Ring doorbell.” Dave points. “I can’t believe you came early—of your own volition.” He turns immediately toward Octavia. “I really, really hope you’re here to tell me that you and this stunning beauty are getting married or something.”

Poor Octavia’s face blanches. “We—we just started dating.”

Dave shrugs. “I mean, crazier things have happened. Love’s a leap.” He slaps me on the back. “Come on in and tell me why you came while Seren’s busy.”

I swear under my breath. Sometimes I forget how freaking smart he is, because he’s so darn happy and kind. “Um, well.”

Octavia’s head tilts. “How did you know?—”

Dave’s laughing. “We have five kids, you know, and they’re all as different as they can be. But Jake? His excellent timing is never an accident.”

“Oh.” Octavia’s looking around intently, as if she’s going to be quizzed on the contents of the Fansee’s small cottage. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Same.” He grins again. “Even if you’re here as a buffer for my son who knew Killian would be sleeping, Seren would be busy, and I’d be right here, going over numbers.” He turns to catch my eye, daring me to correct him.

“Can we sit?” I start walking across the family room to the breakfast table.

“Of course.” Dave trots ahead of me and closes his laptop, sliding it away from him. He stacks his crazy, tracking notebook in which he scrawls a bunch of numbers every day on top of the laptop and sits, leaning on his elbows.

Octavia waits for me to sit down and takes a chair behind me. She really didn’t want to come, but when I told her I needed her with me, she didn’t argue. She just agreed. I don’t want to evaluate why I wanted her here so badly, but I’m pretty sure it’s because I’m scared this is going to go badly.

“So, the thing is, a few years ago, my dad started sending me letters through?—”

“His old partner Quintin?” Dave nods. “Go on.”

“Wait, you knew that?” I swallow.

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