I sent him the file of documents I had received years ago to review. Maybe there is something in there we can use as leverage. It would make sense for Mother to be abusing her power in some way where my money is involved.
“It requires that a certain percentage of your income be untouchable to anyone but you.”
I nod. “Mother was my manager, so she received a portion of my earnings when I was under eighteen, and she invested her money for herself. Mine was set up separately in a trust. But I think there’s more to it than that. She knows the guy who owns the firm managing everything, and every time I try to get information from him, he avoids me or buries me in stacks of paperwork. I’ve been wanting to hire my own accountant to go through it, but . . .” I blow out a breath. “If my mom was doing something shady, I think part of me didn’t want to know. I didn’t want anyone else to know.” I’m still protecting her. Still trying to make her happy.
He stands, walking over to kneel in front of me, his hands on my knees. “It’s okay. We’ll get to the bottom of it. And it’s great leverage to have for our meeting on Monday if something shady is happening.”
I cover his hands with mine.
“I will go over everything you sent me, then we can talk more. I need a closer look at how everything is structured. It’s possible your mom set things up in a way that gives her ongoing control over your income, and she doesn’t want you to know.”
I swallow. “I should have fought harder to find out what was happening. I’m an idiot.”
He leans up, kissing me briefly on the lips. “You’re not an idiot. No child wants to believe their parent is stealing from them.”
I blink back the heat filling my eyes. I shouldn’t care about all this. I know how my mother is. But it still hurts. “But I’m not a child anymore.”
He cups my face in his hands. “It doesn’t matter. Our parents are the people who are supposed to protect us. We rely on them as children for survival, and that doesn’t just disappear because you grow up. But now you have a chance to take control back.”
And soon. By the time Audrey and I got back to Spencer’s from the diner, it was already set. Mom’s attorney—some guy named William Price Huntington III, because of course that’s his name—had already reached out to Spencer and agreed to meet with them both here on Monday morning.
No reason to wait.
I’m not avoiding any of this. Not anymore.
Sitting with Spencer at his desk, with Mother and her attorney in the seats across from us, is a little bizarre. Like one of those dreams where you’re in your own home, but everything looks completely different.
Spencer is a steady and quiet presence on my right. He’s the only thing keeping me together.
I clench my hands in my lap. I want to jump out of my own skin.
Mother appears completely at ease, posture perfect, ankles crossed, hands resting lightly over her knee.
William Price Huntington III is middle-aged and balding, but he’s wearing a flashy suit. “Thank you for meeting with us,” he says.
Spencer nods. “Of course.”
“I represent Ms. Faye Summers in connection with the estate of Beverly Kemper. We have some concerns regarding the administration of the will.”
“What kind of concerns?” Spencer asks.
He glances over at Mother before continuing. “The conditions attached to Ms. Hart’s inheritance. They appear a bit unconventional. We’re questioning whether those conditions are enforceable, and whether your client is being subjected to obligations that may not be legally binding.”
Spencer’s face is like granite. “My client is aware of the terms of the will and has chosen to proceed under them.”
William nods. “Of course. Though given the nature of these requirements, we may need to explore whether they rise to the level of undue influence or are otherwise contrary to public policy.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about. Probably because it’s a bunch of bullshit, just an excuse for Mother to interfere.
Spencer taps a finger on the desk. That’s my sign.
“Before we get into all of that, I have a question.” I turn to her. “If you really want to go down this road, then I want a full accounting of my finances.”
She pauses, staring at me, letting the silence linger. It’s one of her many tactics for making me uncomfortable, but I’m not going to let it get to me. “That’s not what we’re here to discuss.”
My heart pounds in my ears. “I know. But if you want to talk about Beverly’s will, something that doesn’t concern you, then I want to discuss something that does concern you, and that’s how my money has been managed by an entity you hired, and how that needs to change.”
Her face is like stone. “Your finances are handled, Vivien. They’ve always been handled. Are you wanting for anything? I don’t think so.” Her gaze zeroes in on Spencer. “Have you advised her to take this position?”
