Her laughter is husky and free. I find myself smiling.
“I’m guessing the competition is cutthroat fierce.”
“Isn’t everything?” She shrugs a shoulder, then brushes a petal off her white bandeau bikini top. “Besides, you’ll have a leg up in the form of your fabulously rich and well-connected friend.”
When I raise a brow, she grins. “That would be me.”
“I would never ask you to hook me up that way.”
“I know. That’s your problem.”
“Refusing to take advantage of you is a problem?”
Monica pushes the sunglasses up on her head and gives me a level look. “Your problem is in thinking that accepting help from people is taking advantage. There’s nothing wrong with networking when it comes from a place of mutual trust.”
“Let’s just say I witnessed a lot of networking disguised as friendship thrown my parents’ way while growing up. I never want to be like that.”
“Fair. But the key point here is intention. A person in my position becomes very good at spotting fakes. You’re not one. If I know of a situation where you might benefit, it gives me pleasure to see it come to fruition.”
“You sound like August.” I trail my fingers through the cool water and watch it ripple. “He wants to outright pay the taxes on this place, and I keep telling him no.”
“I gather he’s made it clear it’s not a burden to him and he wants to help because he cares for you.”
“Well, yes. But accepting his help is a stopgap, not a solution. Taxes come up every year. And wouldn’t feel right—no, more than that, it wouldn’t feel like my place if he was the one paying for it.”
She hums thoughtfully, and we fall silent. Sunlight hits the glass in Monica’s hand and the pink cocktail glows. She licks an errant drip along the rim before taking a long drink. Settling back with a sigh, she turns her attention my way.
“It occurs to me that you’re thinking about this whole money thing the wrong way.”
“How so?”
Holding up an elegantly manicured finger, she takes another sip. “Damn that’s good. I’ll tell you how. Youarewealthy. You just don’t seem to realize it.”
“Please don’t tell me August’s wealth is my wealth,” I say with a sigh. “It’s just... not.”
Monica snorts. “The good state of California begs to differ. When you marry him, you’ll get half. However,” she adds with another raised finger, “that’s not what I’m talking about. Look, I hear you. Having your own money is important. But you’re so worked up about not taking anything from August that you don’t see what’s right in front of your face.”
“What?”
“This!” She waves her hand around at the grounds.
“But I don’t want to sell it.”
“You don’t have to.” She adjusts her pose to face me. “Doesn’t matter. You still hold ten million in equity in your hands. You don’t have to sell the house to utilize some of it. You just have to think smarter.”
Her words swell within me, and I sit back with an unsteady breath. I haven’t been thinking smart. Flutters of anticipation and anxiety war within my belly.
“You’re right.”
“I know I am.” Her teeth flash white against the red of her lipstick. “Your grandparents gave you a wonderful gift. Generational wealth. People love to sneer at it, as though those who benefit from it are unworthy. And God knows there are assholes whoarecompletely undeserving. But isn’t generational wealth the dream?”
“It is?”
A strand of her wet hair slides when she shrugs. “Work hard, make money, and build a life that leaves your children in a better place than when you started? That’s what we’re told to strive for, and yet when we get there, suddenly it’s wrong? What the hell is that? It’s like society is setting us up to either fail or be sorry we didn’t.”
With a flick of the wrist, she pops a cashew into her mouth and chases it with her drink. “I don’t even want to contemplate the shit I’ve had to put up with to get where I am. But I’m here. When I have children, you better believe they’ll have the best of everything. Anyone who wants to talk smack about that can get fucked.”
Laughing I take a drink, then look down into the clear water. Opaline glass tiles lining the pool catch the sunlight and glimmer softly. “I keep feeling guilty for wanting to keep this place.”
