Page 47 of Trust Fund Baby

“You know how you’ve never met my family outside of Winn?” I asked.

Confusion clouded Hallie’s face at the sudden change in conversation. I couldn’t blame her.

“Yeah,” Hallie replied slowly. “You said that they are workaholics or something, right? That you didn’t really agree with their beliefs, so you cut them out?”

“It’s a little different than that.”

The fact that Hallie sat and listened without interrupting spoke volumes about how strong our friendship was.

“I grew up in Connecticut,” I said. “In a wealthy family that made their money practicing law. You know the type—debutante balls, parties with people whose names are on the Forbes list, and far more expectations than the average family.”

“So you’re telling me you were presented to society in a big white fluffy ball gown?” Hallie asked me after a moment passed between us.

I huffed out a small laugh and shook my head. “Of course you’d catch on to that small detail.”

“So what’s the big deal?” Hallie asked. “Your family has money, and you never mentioned it before. You’re a real-life Rory Gilmore. So what? I just don’t get why you scrounge and save so much, and chose to live here with me, when I’m guessing you could afford somewhere much nicer.”

“Actually, that’s another part of my story I wanted to tell you about, and something I should have mentioned long before. But the truth is, yes, my family has money, but I no longer do.”

“What do you mean, no longer?”

I took a long slow breath in. “I was disinherited.”

Hallie’s mouth dropped open as I watched her take in all of this new information. “Why?”

“Sebastian Whittaker,” I told her simply as I swirled the wine around in its glass.

“Okay, now I’m really confused. What the fuck does Seb have to do with this?” Hallie exclaimed. “And why have you never told me any of this before?”

“Because when my family forced me to start over, I took that seriously,” I told her. “I didn’t want to associate myself with them if they didn’t want to associate themselves with me.”

“But don’t you still go home?” Hallie asked. “I thought you still had family lunches most weeks.”

“I do. Winn convinced me to come back a few years ago. Well, him and my grandmother,” I told her. “I think they wanted someone else there to take up my grandfather’s attention, rather than sit through a lunch with his ire directed at them.”

“Okay, that makes sense I guess. But I still don’t understand the connection to Seb. Can you please explain, before my head explodes?” Hallie pressed. She was being sympathetic and patient, of course she was. But I knew she was also eating this up—she was still a gossip columnist, after all.

“He was the reason I was disinherited.” I turned away from Hallie so I wouldn’t have to see her reaction. I wasn’t sure I wanted to see the moment she realized just how deep my connection with Sebastian went, and how recently I’d lied to her.

“You two grew up together?” she asked.

I nodded. “We did. We were best friends and nearly inseparable.”

Hallie hesitated before asking her next question. “Did you two ever … date?”

“Not officially. But there was a time when I thought I could’ve loved him. I know I was a teenager, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt like that since, or if I ever will again.”

Hallie sucked in a breath next to me. I dared to look over at her, and there was no mistaking the concern in her eyes. She might feel betrayed by how much of the truth I’d omitted about my past, but I could tell she understood. That she didn’t hold it against me. God, how did I get so lucky to have a best friend like her?

“Okay, now you have to spill it all.” She reached for the pasta in front of us, handing me my plate before diving into her own. The reality television show we planned on watching was completely forgotten. My life had enough drama to keep us entertained for the evening.

I stared down at the pasta, the aroma of garlic and herbs filling the air as the steam rose. I set the wine down and picked up my fork, mostly for something to do with my hands.

Hallie waited, unusually quiet now, letting me find the words at my own pace. She’d always been good at that, even in college—knowing when to push and when to just let me find my own way.

“Sebastian and I were kids when it started,” I said eventually, my voice barely above a whisper. “It was never anything official. It was mostly just sneaking out of our houses to meet at the dock where he kept his sailboat, the occasional scribbled note that we’d slip into each other’s lockers, or holding hands as we walked out of school to his car since he drove me to school every day. We were stupid, and wild, and completely convinced we were infinite.”

Hallie twirled her fork through her pasta. “So what happened? The two of you acted like total strangers when we first saw him at McGuire’s.”