Page 51 of A Winding Wave of Magic
With somewhat unsteady hands, I made my mark at the bottom of both pieces of paper. He handed me another sheet, which appeared to be some sort of bank statement.
I looked it over. “What’s this?”
“It’s a document that, when presented with appropriate identification, grants you access to the account in the will. Until that time, I have been appointed conservator.”
I looked at the bottom of the statement, and my eyes popped open. “This can’t be right.”
“I assure you it is.”
“Gran didn’t have this kind of money. We didn’t have enough to put me through community college. I was a Pell Grant recipient, and I had to apply for a million scholarships, loans, and work my ass off to attend Reed.”
“Perhaps she was trying to teach you something else there.”
“About what, the merits of poverty?”
“Or the merits of living without it.”
I shook my head at the sheet. It was an obscene amount of money, more than most people ever saw in a lifetime. Maybe even ten lifetimes.
I handed the paper back to him. “I don’t want it.”
“Then don’t take it.” He tucked it into the folder with the rest of the paperwork. His tone was matter-of-fact, as if he expected my response. “For now, anyway. I doubt you’ll feel this way forever, and it’s likely you’ll have need of it one day. Meanwhile, I’ll see that it’s kept safe until that time comes.”
I opened my mouth, ready to argue, but he held up a hand to stop me.
“She wanted you cared for, Cassandra,” he said, a bit more kindly now. “That’s all you need to know.”
“Jonathan,” I said slowly, thinking carefully about how to phrase my next questions. “Do you think you could explain why my grandmother’s will had to be so secretive? And who Robertand Caitlin Connolly are? I’ve never even heard of these people. Everything about this—all of it—is so odd.”
“Is itjustthe will that’s strange? Or other things too?”
“You mean besides a lawyer tracking me across the country to give me a basic will?”
It was meant to be a joke, but suddenly, it didn’t seem very funny. None of this was funny.
We stared at each other for a moment, as though both of us were evaluating to what extent the other could be trusted, if at all. Whyhewouldn’t want to trust me, I couldn’t say. But the cock of his eyebrow and the purse of his lips told me he was trying to figure me out just as much as I was.
Finally, his gaze broke from mine, turning toward the ocean while he ran one long-fingered hand through his thick, sandy hair. I took a sip of now-cold tea, wishing once again that my abilities didn’t require touch to sneak inside someone’s mind. But since he knew that too and was clearly taking some kind of measure to avoid it unless absolutely necessary, I had no other choice but to wait for his reply.
“Would you have dinner with me tonight?” he asked suddenly.
Whatever I had been expecting, a date wasn’t it. “Dinner?”
His mouth twisted. “Surely, you must eat. Unless a restaurant is too much for you with your…” He gestured toward my hands. “Condition.”
I frowned at the assumption. It wasn’t unfair, but he didn’t know everything about me. “I can handle a meal. I suppose that would be fine since I don’t exactly have much in the way of plans out here.”
“No friends to see? Old flames to…fan?”
Something else glittered in his eyes, and I wasn’t sure what to make of the intensity of that expression, though he was joking.
“This might shock you, but I wasn’t exactly a homecoming queen or anything in high school,” I said.
His brow furrowed adorably. “A what?”
I rolled my eyes. “The answer is no. I don’t have any friends left in the area.”
He relaxed considerably. “Lovely. Shall we say seven o’clock? I’m staying at one of the inns on Laneda. Shall I pick you up?”
