Everything was new and surprising. The sex. Shopping for groceries together. Teaching Punkin to fetch. Sneaking down to the beach at night and swimming naked in the dark water.
I didn’t know life could be simple and happy. It was like a revelation, and I wished it could stay that simple forever.
Four perfect summer days after the brunch-gone-wrong at the Neelys, Seb went to work at the marina in the morning, and I wasplanning to drop off some signed paperwork at the family attorney when I got a call from Benny.
“The tracker alerted me to a location outside of Paul’s normal routine,” he told me.
“Oh yeah? Where?”
Benny hesitated. “In Grand Rapids.”
“Okay... ?”
“I looked up the address. I think it might be your father’s house.”
My head emptied of all thought, and a chill raced through my veins. With everything that had happened—the time capsule fiasco, Seb moving in, finding and losing Mabel’s rings to Paul—I’d pushed the business with my father to the back burner. I hadn’t wanted to face him, but I suppose I knew it was only a matter of time.
“Paige?”
“I heard you. I just... Are you sure?”
He read off an address to me. “Tax records show the owner is Rufus A. Lee. Bought last year for two-point-four mil. Five bedrooms, one-point-three acre lot, panoramic views, four-car garage.”
Definitely sounded like my father. I asked him to repeat the address and scribbled it down. “What the hell is Paul doing out there?”
“Dunno, but Paul mentioned your father when he was holding that gun on us at the military encampment, remember? Maybe he’s trying to squeeze your father for information.”
Or maybe they were working together. Though, I couldn’t see the how or why of it. My father had everything he wanted, didn’t he? All the money that had been passed down, generation to generation. All his now. Why would he need the Golden Venus? It felt too base, too messy for someone who was living an entirely new life, popping champagne with the other movers and shakers in the city.
“Is Paul there now?” I asked Benny.
“No, this was last night. He was there for only fifteen minutes, then he drove back to Haven Beach. Sorry, I missed the alert while I was asleep.”
Probably for the best. I didn’t want to run into him.
I thanked Benny, feeling dazed and anxious. When I hung up, anger began simmering. I mean, what the hell was Paul doing at my father’s, anyway? Meanwhile, I’d been sending emails to his brokerage and not getting any response...
Thoughts darkening, I stormed into the kitchen and dug out the financial aid form for Harvard. Then I left Punkin sleeping on the porch swing, got in the Corvair, and I drove the hour to Grand Rapids, fueled by gas fumes and fury.
Treasure or no treasure, I wasn’t going to let my father take away Harvard from me. I had to get him to sign this form. No ifs, ands, or buts. After I did that, I’d find out what the hell he’d been doing with the Vanderburgs.
The address Benny gave me was in a picturesque, quiet neighborhood around Reeds Lake—lots of trees, lots of mansions, lots of black Mercedes parked in long driveways. Nicer than Benny’s neighborhood, and twice the price. I spotted my father’s house when the GPS on my phone alerted me that I was approaching my destination.
Two stories tall, and made of stone and cedar shake, it looked pristine, standing in a manicured yard with a winding drive that was blocked with a big black gate, like he was some kind ofHollywood star who needed protection from clamoring fans. It made me more furious than I already was.
I drove into the mouth of the driveway, pulling up to a small keypad that stood sentry outside the gate and pressing the call button. “Um, hello? I’m here to see Mr. Lee. I’m his daughter.”
There wasn’t a video screen. I couldn’t tell if anyone had even heard me. But the black gateclickedand started opening, so I supposed someone had. I drove through and headed up the drive to park near the entrance. No other cars here. Guess they were all tucked inside the four-car garage. After grabbing my Harvard form and taking a deep breath, I got out of my car and quickly approached the front door before I lost my nerve.
I didn’t have a chance to knock. The door swung open, and a fortysomething white man in tailored khakis and a pale blue button-up stood barefoot on the other side, loosely holding a beveled lowball of whiskey by the tips of his fingers. Graying, overlong hair curled around his ears, and his five-o’clock shadow was moving into six-o’clock territory.
“Paige,” he said in a voice that sounded like a pack of cigarettes. Instantly, I remembered it from childhood. Rough and boisterous, a big laugh that turned heads. “It really is you, isn’t it?”
“Hello, Mr. Lee.”
“I can’t believe it,” he said, leaning against the doorway casually as he looked me over from head to foot several times. “Last time I saw you, you were...” He held out his whiskey glass, measuring the air at a point near his waist. “This high.”
I could remember the last couple times I’d seen him. Once was at the lawyer’s office, a year after my mother had died. Then, when I was sixteen, after Seb left the Wags: Jazmine and I found Rufus’s old home address in Nana’s things, drove there, andparked outside until I spotted him exiting. I didn’t try to talk to him then, just drove away. And I couldn’t say why I did it, only that it felt like my life was falling apart.
