The Duty Of The Heir (Book 3): Chapter 62
Knoxville
I’m pacing around my apartment, restless, my mind a storm of thoughts. In a sudden burst of inspiration, I grab my phone and dial Mariah, and almost immediately, she answers, a touch of surprise in her voice.
‘Hey, Simone,’ she says. ‘Didn’t expect a call from you in the middle of the day.’
‘Where are you?’ I ask.
‘Lunch break, at the canteen,’ she says, and I can almost hear her shrugging.
‘Okay,’ I reply, my words laced with a nervous energy I can’t quite shake off.
‘Did you make it to the office today?’
‘No,’ I admit. ‘I’m wiped out from the trip.’
There’s a pause, and I know she’s processing. ‘Mum’s not thrilled. Said you were nearby and didn’t drop by.’
I exhale, long and slow. ‘Work’s a whole different universe, you know?’ It’s a flimsy excuse, even to my ears. I misled them, saying I traveled to a town near Wesbury for work.
Mariah lets out a sigh that bridges the gap between understanding and disappointment. ‘Yeah, I get it.’
I change tack, seeking safer waters. ‘Is your partner back?’
‘Nope. Vacation’s extended. Won’t see her till Tuesday.’
‘That’s fair. Everyone needs a break.’ My words feel hollow, even as I say them.
There’s a noticeable pause. ‘She’s taking an extended break,’ Mariah says, the edge in her voice unmistakable. ‘And if I have my way, that break might become permanent.’
Surprised, I ask, ‘What happened? You used to speak so highly of her.’
Mariah scoffs, ‘Things change. People show their true colors. And honestly? I don’t need that kind of energy.’
Listening to her, I sense a vulnerability, a sense of betrayal. I nod, feeling her words deeply. ‘Sometimes, change is necessary,’ I offer gently.
‘Yeah,’ she agrees, a touch of sadness evident. ‘Sometimes it is.’
‘Anyway, I need some advice. Know any good financial advisors?’
‘For what?’ She sounds genuinely puzzled.
‘I’ve been thinking of investing my savings. I’ve been saving up some money and was thinking of investing. You know someone good?’
She pauses, as if recalculating my persona. ‘Saving up? How much are we talking about?’
‘I’ve got around ten thousand.”
Her laughter rings clear and sharp. ‘Simone, with ten thousand? That’s a shopping spree, not an investment. You should just buy a designer bag or something. It’s a drop in the bucket these days.’
I chuckle, even as I insist. ‘No, seriously. Who’s good?’
She’s still laughing. ‘With that amount? Just enjoy it, Simone. But if you’re really set on it, try Edward Jones when you’ve got more.’
‘Thanks, Mariah,’ I answer, grateful for the lead, yet itching to end the call. ‘I’ll look into it.’
Once the line goes silent, I move to my laptop, logging into my bank account. As the digits on the screen load, showing a neat $300,000, I can’t help the burst of satisfaction and thrill that washes over me. Mariah doesn’t know the half of it. The future looks promising, and I’m holding the reins tight.