Page 81 of Canvas of Lies
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” I said grimly. “As it stands, she ignored my existence for most of my life. I figure I can ignore hers for six months. Will you be upset when I donate every last cent from the sale of this ridiculous place to charity?”
“Not even a little. Are you sorry I came hurtling back into your life?” Nico smoothed his thumb across my cheekbone.
There was a certain softness in my chest when I smiled and said, “Not even a little.” I pressed my face into his hand. “I—Nico, you don’t have to stay here, if you don’t want to. You didn’t sign up for this. I know this place holds a lot of bad memories for you.”
He shook his head. “No more than it does for you. If you think I’m the kind of asshole who would leave you alone here to deal with all this by yourself, you are most definitely mistaken. You’re stuck with me now.”
“There’s no one I’d rather be stuck with. Let’s go pick a bedroom.” I rose and tugged his hand until he came to his feet.
“We’re not going to reclaim your childhood room? There goes every high school fantasy I ever had,” Nico muttered.
“You know, your perception of that time and my own are lightyears apart, Beaumont.”
He slid his arm around my waist and nuzzled my neck. “I’d say blame your father, but that seems a little callous at this particular point in time.”
I laughed softly and pulled him along with me into the house. The curving staircase in the center of the foyer led to our first choice: left or right. The wing to the right included the master suite and, at the far end of the hall, my childhood bedroom. Without hesitation, I turned left.
We peeked into the rooms one by one. The first had been turned into a den of sorts, featuring a brown pullout sofa and a television that was unimpressive even by my low standards. Over the ragged sofa, an autographed baseball bat hung on the wall.
“Man cave?” Nico mused. “I would’ve imagined a big screen TV and surround sound.”
“You and me both,” I muttered.
The second and third doors led to guest suites with queen beds and tasteful but generic color schemes. I found I had no real preference—it really was like looking at hotel rooms. Though I’d teased Nico about his apartment, at least its minimalism came across as a conscious choice.
“I guess the choices are burgundy or navy,” I said with a wry smile.
The navy accents belonged to the room at the far end of the hall and thus farthest from the room I’d grown up in, so Nico nodded his head toward that door. “Navy. I love you in every shade of blue. Especially naked, with your hair all spread out around you.”
I scoffed a little, but the heat in my cheeks told him the comment had done its job. Knowing him as I did, his goal for the next few days would be distracting me from the fact that we were sleeping in my father’s house.
It would be a tall order.
Flopping down on my back across the bed, I stared up at the ceiling and wondered why we were even here. I’d shoved the letter from my father into my pocket, content to forget about it as long as possible, but now its presence was a burning reminder that the man was still manipulating us from beyond the grave. With a huff, I pulled it out and stared at the spideryKatherineacross the front.
“Are you ready to read it?” Nico asked, perching on the edge of the bed beside me.
“I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready, so we might as well get it over with, right?”
“Do you want me to stay while you read it? If you want privacy, I can go get the bags.”
I didn’twantprivacy, but I had no idea what the letter might say, so I said, “Go ahead, but you don’t have to stay away while I read it. It’saffecting you, too.”
Nico bent down to kiss my forehead and left me to open the envelope while he fetched our bags from the downstairs hall.
Katherine,
I’ve made a number of enemies throughout my career, so as a precaution, I’ve updated my will regularly over the years. This house and everything in it would always have been yours, and while I’m sure you’re fuming over the stipulations of your inheritance, I have my reasons.
Even as a toddler, you had a mind of your own. I might not have been involved in your life, but I’ve kept tabs. I could not be more proud of the way you’ve forged your own path and succeeded in a way that is so uniquely your own.
I know six months is a lot to ask of you, but I hope to make it worth your sacrifice. In the attic, you will find a collection of antique toys and games I have come across since you left home, some in need of repair, others in good condition. You didn’t need my help, nor do I expect you ever would have asked for it, but consider this recompense for how my choices have negatively impacted your life.
Should you choose to abandon the house before the six months is up, Wallace will contact an auction house and all proceeds will be donated to Path of Hope in your name, but they won't have your level of expertise in assessing the collection in the attic.
Love,
Your father
