“Good. Sorry to hear about your parents,” he says.
“Thanks. I need a favor,” I tell him.
“For you? Anything. Hit me.”
I relay a very simplified version of what I want to happen and what part I’m going to need him to play in it. He has to send an email to his contacts, knowing that the Levines’ broker is one of them, tipping them off to an upcoming low about to hit the market.
“You do realize what you’re talking about is insider trading,” Aaron says cautiously.
“Only if you or another broker chooses to act on the shared information,” I remind him. “There’s something else…”
“I’m almost afraid to ask.” Aaron sighs.
“I want the heads of all six families tagged in the email.”
“What exactly are you planning, Jake?” Aaron asks.
“Nothing. Just doing a community service,” I lie.
“Right, because you always were the good Samaritan. I’ll do it, but just so you know, if I lose my job over this, I’m coming to work for you,” he says.
“I’ve been trying to get you to come work for me for five years.” I laugh.
“And up until today, I’ve been secure in my job,” he grumbles.
“Thanks. I’ll owe you one.”
“No, this makes us even, Westmead,” he says.
I know what he’s talking about. I got him out of shit back in college. His parents lost everything. He was going to have to drop out because he didn’t have the funds to continue. I made an anonymous donation towards his education. I wasn’t about to let one of my friends not graduate because of money. Something I have plenty of. The asshole hacked into the college computer system and found out where that donation came from. I never would have told him, because I didn’t want him to feel like he owed me anything.
“Sure,” I agree, just to shut him up.
Cutting the call, I flick my wrist around and check the time. My dad’s old Rolex shines against my tanned skin. He gave it to me for my twenty-first birthday. It was handed to him on his twenty-first birthday by his father. I’m supposed to hand it down to my son. A child I don’t even have yet.
Will I ever get to experience that? Fatherhood? Do I even want to?
Yes, if it’s Jazzy doing the parenting thing along with me. Because as much of a fuckup I’ll no doubt be, she will be the perfect mother.
Standing, I collect my keys and wallet. I need to get to the lawyer’s office for this reading. I’m dreading every fucking minute of it, but I’m also curious as to what my parents left Jazzy. And about who else they mentioned in their will.
I’m the last to arrive. Sitting around a circular table are my uncle and aunt, my two cousins, and Jasmine. I spot the open seat next to her and head to it.
“Glad you could make it,” my aunt says, with a snideness in her tone.
Jazzy straightens in her chair. “His parents just died. Give him a break.”
“Who are you and why are you here?” my aunt asks.
“Meridith, that’s enough,” my uncle cuts in, sending his wife a scathing glare before turning to me. “Sorry.”
I have a solid relationship with my uncle. My aunt, not so much. My cousins, I like enough. I don’t really know them.
“Okay, we’re all here. We can get started,” Oliver Turnball, my father’s lawyer, says. “Mr. and Mrs. Westmead had a combined will and testament in the instance that they happenedto pass together,” he says. “To Mr. Harris Westmead, we leave the Hampton estate, the Rolls Royce Wraith, and the collection of shotguns.”
My uncle nods. It’s everything that once belonged to my grandfather. It should go to his only remaining son.
“That’s it?” my aunt asks.