Page 71 of Drawing Home
“No, Emma. I mean that the recent changes in your personal life have made it problematic for you to act as a steward of this hotel. Regretfully, I need to let you go.”
It struck Bea that Mark Mapson was quite the operator—the flattery, the obsequiousness, the soft-selling. If she hadn’t been so interested in what he had to say, she would have gotten great pleasure in throwing him out as quickly as she’d let him in. But she was very, very interested.
At the kitchen table, she poured herself another cup of iced green tea. Mark Mapson had declined her offer of a beverage.
“I would be a much more effective executor of my daughter’s estate than my ex-wife, who, let’s face it, is a glorified hostess. This is serious business, and she is in way over her head. But at the same time, I’m obviously a less qualified representative for Henry Wyatt’s art thanyouare.”
“Indeed. So what is your point?”
“I’m thinking of how to remedy this situation. First, I need to gain some legal standing to take control of my daughter’s inheritance, and once I do, and after Penny turns eighteen, I’m happy to work out a deal with you for the sale of this house and other pieces of his estate. Minus my commission.”
“When Penny turns eighteen, she, not her parents, will have control over this estate. So I don’t see how you can make any promises.”
“Eighteen-year-olds don’t want to be stuck in some big house in the middle of nowhere. They want to move on from the place where they were raised no matter how fancy the digs. And financial security for the rest of her life will be a big motivator to sell. My daughter is not stupid.”
“And neither am I. Why are you coming to me now? This conversation is four years down the road, the way I see it.Ifit even comes to that.”
“In the short term, I need money to pay lawyers.”
“Money from me?”
He nodded.
“Mr. Mapson, I’m paying my own lawyers, and they are busy working on the very strong possibility this will isn’t valid.”
“Well, in that case, look at this as insurance. If the will isn’t valid, you’ve got your lawyers on the case. If the willisvalid, I’ll have my lawyer on it. Either way, you win.”
Oh, he was an operator, all right. But this might be an easy way to fight the battle on an entirely new front.
“I need to think about this,” she said, standing. “I’ll see you out.”
Chapter Thirty
The party at Mindy’s house was twice the size of the one on Memorial Day weekend, and Penny instantly knew she’d done the right thing by showing up. To miss it would have been social suicide.
All the usual suspects were there—Robin, Jess, and the other basics from her grade—but also Mindy’s sister, Jordan, and Jordan’s friends, who were rising seniors; Mateo and his friends; and Mateo’s older brother.
“So you’re the one who got the artist’s house?”
Penny glanced around to make sure the superhot guy—maybe the best-looking guy she’d ever seen—was actually talking toher.
He was.
“I’m into art,” the boy said. “Henry Wyatt was a legend. Are you related to him or something?”
“Um, no.” And then, realizing he was waiting for more, she said, “I’m into art too, and he gave me lessons. We were friends.”
He seemed about to say something, but then Jordan Banks slid over and looped her arm through his. She then proceeded to yell at Mindy to get her friends outside or upstairs. “Out of my face!”
Mindy herded Penny, Robin, and Jess up the stairs and into her parents’ room.
“There are so many people here,” Penny said.
“Wait until the Fourth of July,” Mindy said. “That will be epic.”
Another party. A summer of parties!
“When are you having us over to your house?” Mindy said.
