The Mentor (Necessary Lies Book 1) (4 page)

“You’re Nolan Weston?” I asked. My palms were sweating now, one of my nervous habits since forever. I tried to nonchalantly wipe them across the throw pillow next to me.

“I am,” he said, taking a step down into the sunken living room to join me on the couch. His gait was so confident, his demeanor so relaxed. Nolan Weston probably didn’t get worked up about anything. Even his boss dying.

“You worked for my father,” I said. “I saw you once.”

Maybe I imagined it, but suddenly Nolan’s eyes narrowed and the tip of his tongue appeared between his lips. But he quickly gained his composure.

“You did?” he asked. “When was that?”

“When I was sixteen,” I said. “You met with my father in Salzburg. At the Mozart Museum. I was inside, but I saw you talking to him.”

Nolan’s face suddenly relaxed, “Oh, yes. I hadn’t thought about that in a long time. It was my first time meeting him. I hadn’t realized you were there.”

I looked down at my shoes. Nolan Weston was hard to look at. He was… gorgeous. It made me a little shy, to be honest. That kind of attractiveness could be intimidating.

“Yeah, he took me there as a surprise for my birthday,” I said, feeling tears well up in my eyes. “I remember everything about that trip.”

Nolan sat across from me now, his expression blank for the moment. Something about him really frustrated me. I couldn’t read him at all.

“Anyway,” I said. “How did this happen? My father had a stroke?”

Nolan nodded, “Yes. In the middle of the night, it seems. He was alone here but that morning he was supposed to meet some of the other partners and I at a breakfast meeting in town. He never showed, which isn’t like him. When he didn’t answer his text messages, I became concerned. So I came here…” His sentence trailed off. It seemed like his voice might crack, but when he looked back up at me his eyes were cool and whatever emotion had grabbed him was gone. No expression.

“I came here,” he continued, “And found him in his closet. He’d been possibly looking for his bathrobe, or something else. We’ll never know for sure.”

“How do you know it was a stroke?” I asked. “Surely an autopsy hasn’t been performed already?”

“It has,” Nolan said, looking down. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but your father has actually been gone for over a week.”

“
What?
” I yelled, standing up. Michael had walked into the house by then, carrying all of my luggage. He dropped everything he was carrying at the sound of my voice being raised. He looked at Nolan, sternly.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Nothing, Michael,” Nolan said, holding up a hand to keep him from coming further into the house. “You may go now.”

Michael opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it. Instead he turned around and walked out, leaving me alone with the asshole who had apparently been keeping the death of my father a secret from me for a week.

“How could I not be informed?” I yelled, still standing, glaring at Nolan. I could feel my face burning hot with rage and I knew my cheeks must be flushed pink the way they get when I’m angry. Part of me wondered if I got that from my father, but I’d never seen him heated. Especially not as heated as I was right now.

“This is fucked up. My father has been dead a week and no one told me? Where is he now?”

“He’s been cremated,” Nolan replied. “I have his ashes here with me.”

“What the fuck?” I screamed. “You cremated him
without me
? Was there a funeral or anything?”

“Camilla,” he said. “This was what your father wanted. This is exactly how he wanted it to be handled. Richard valued his privacy. He had no desire for a funeral. He was very clear about that.”

I was sobbing now, so angry I couldn’t see.

“Did he hate me so much,” I asked, “That he didn’t want me to know when he died? Or to allow me to pay my respects? Or tell him…” I was crying so hard now I couldn’t speak.

Nolan was next to me now, but he didn’t touch me.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I found him. Your father was a man of a certain… dignity.  He wouldn’t have wanted to be seen by anyone, especially you, in the condition in which the stroke left him. I don’t know what else to say.”

I looked up at him and I could see a hint of compassion in his eyes. But it didn’t matter. He had ruined my life.

“Fuck you,” I said, pushing him away with both hands. His chest felt like granite, and the steps he took away from me seemed to have more to do with him allowing me space than my efforts actually moving him. “Fuck you for not calling me as soon as it happened. And fuck my father. Why am I even here?” I walked over to the window, staring out at the lake.

“All of this,” Nolan said, “is yours. The firm. This house. His entire estate, which is quite large. It belongs to you, Camilla. Your father didn’t hate you. Not even close. He had his own way of doing things, sometimes for reasons that would be hard for you to understand. But there was a method to it and it was all in your best interest. And when I say he left you everything, he left you everything.” Nolan was directly behind me now. I could almost feel the heat of him on me.

“I don’t care,” I whispered, my arms crossed. Tears slid down my face as I looked out onto snow covered peaks. “I don’t want any of it. I want him to be here. To explain everything himself.”

“That I can’t give you,” Nolan said. “I wish I could.”

I turned to him and could see a sadness in his face.

“You were close to him?” I asked.

“As close as one can be to their boss, I guess,” Nolan replied, the sadness gone, replaced by the cold expression again. What was it with this guy?

“He was just your boss?” I said.

“And a friend,” Nolan replied, looking over my shoulder at the lake. “Although friends are a rare and sometimes expensive luxury in our business. He was my mentor in many ways. He taught me all I know. So the loss of him weighs heavy on me, and the firm as well. We’re in a difficult position.” He paused. “Not the kind of position you’re in, of course. I didn’t mean to compare.”

I sighed, “I just don’t understand anything. My father had a separate life from me. He never let me in. And even in death, he still didn’t let me in. And now I just… I don’t know what to do from here. I don’t want his estate, his homes, and certainly not his firm. In 3 months I graduate, and the last thing I want is to be tied to anything. So do with it what you want. Sell it all, don’t sell it, run it yourselves. I’m not interested.” I turned back to the window. “I would like to be alone.”

Nolan didn’t say anything for a long moment; so long that I thought he’d walked away until I heard his voice again, closer to me now, making me jump.

“We can talk about details over the next couple days,” he said. His voice gave me goose bumps. “I’m staying here tonight, if it’s alright with you. I have meetings with the firm tomorrow and your father usually allowed me to stay here when I was in Tahoe. If that’s okay with you, of course. You won’t be bothered; I stay in a suite on the other side of the property from your room.”

I shrugged, “I don’t care. Besides, if I’m in charge now I can just fire you if you continue to piss me off, right?”

I heard him make a sound as if to speak and then footsteps walking away. I kept staring outside, waiting for the stars to fall on this house, catch it on fire, allow it to burn to the ground with me inside it.

When I turned around this time, Nolan was gone. And now I was truly alone.

Once he was gone, I walked over to my suitcases that were sitting on the floor in the foyer. Both were packed full. Out of laziness and exhaustion, I grabbed just the one with my pajamas and toiletries in it. I’d deal with the rest tomorrow.

No one had bothered to tell me where my room was, and I certainly didn’t want to sleep in my father’s room where he’d had his stroke. As a matter of fact, just knowing I was in the house where he died was making me feel ill. I wished I’d just had Michael drive me to a hotel.

I wandered upstairs and, fortunately, one of the guest bedrooms was right near the top of the steps. It had the same rustic feel as the rest of the house, a large king-sized bed and views of the lake. The bathroom was enormous, with marble everything, and included a huge soaking tub. The walk-in closet was as big as most people’s bedrooms. And this wasn’t even the master bedroom. I would have been impressed if I wasn’t so sleepy.

While brushing my teeth I stared at my reflection in the gilded mirror above the sink. My hair was wild and my eyes had dark circles around them.

I look like shit
, I thought.

I thought about the revelation Nolan had hit me with. My father had been dead a week. And no one had called me when it happened. Because it was what he wanted? He’d made the conscious decision to hide his own death from me? Did he not care how I would feel about this? Did I matter to him at all? Or was I just this loose end from a previous life that he always had to make sure was tied up and out of the way?

I was so angry at him for all of this. I’d only been in Tahoe a few hours, and seen little of it, but it sure seemed like a place I could have been happy growing up. Or at least spent summers. But none of that fit into my father’s plan.

I rinsed my mouth and stared at myself again. I knew I should shower. But it just seemed like too much work at the moment.

Instead I pulled on a t-shirt and yoga pants, crawled into bed, and was asleep in less than a minute.

********

I woke up early the next morning. I was still on east coast time. At first I wasn’t sure where I was, until the previous day’s memories came flooding back and I realized it had all been true. No physical pinch required. The emotional anguish was very real. Not a dream.

I stretched my arms as my eyes wandered over to the window that overlooked Tahoe.

I could barely even see the lake, the snow was falling so hard and thick, large, fluffy flakes and the air foggy with precipitation. I remembered what Michael had said, that we were about to get hit by a snow storm. Well, that storm was here. I’d never seen anything like it. I vaguely recalled channel surfing and winding up watching part of a documentary about the Donner Party in high school. That whole nightmare took place not far from Tahoe, if memory served.

“Well, shit,” I said to myself. “Does that mean I’m stuck here?”

My stomach rumbled. God, I hoped the kitchen was stocked. I needed to eat, and I didn’t want to have to go all Donner on Nolan. Although if I had to eat somebody, I figured he might be pretty tasty… I allowed myself a morbid chuckle. Laughter really was the best medicine, and it put an extra spring in my step as I descended the stairs to look for the kitchen.

I walked through the living room, then through a fitness room, a study, and finally the kitchen, which was as large as I expected it to be. There was an enormous island in the middle of it with granite counter tops. Every appliance known to man was on the counters bordering the room along with not one, but two refrigerators, four ovens, and two stoves. Why my father had needed this kind of kitchen, I would never know. It was impersonal, more suited to a family of ten than a single man with no family at all.

Except for me.

Fortunately, the fridge was stocked. I sliced up some strawberries and found a box of Frosted Flakes. That would do. Dad’s coffee maker was a little fancier and more complex than I was used to, so for now I skipped the coffee.

I sat on a stool at the kitchen island, staring out at nothing as I chewed, still not sure what to do from here.

“Good morning.”

Nolan’s voice echoed throughout the empty kitchen, making me jump at the sudden sound.

“You scared me,” I said.

“Sorry,” Nolan replied, walking toward me, causing me to bristle as he came closer. He looked devastatingly sexy. He was in a white button down shirt with a dark blue tie and charcoal colored slacks. Closer up I could see his eyes were hazel; and they were pointed at me, making me anxious.

“It’s fine,” I said. “You’re leaving?” I was hopeful that he was. I needed to be by myself. I wanted to search the house, explore it, and find out what I could about my father. And I didn’t need Nolan around to prevent me from doing what I wanted to do. Not that he would. I just didn’t feel comfortable with him around.

I didn’t trust him.

“I was going to,” he said. “The other partners are staying in town, my plan was to meet with them to discuss next steps and then have you come down this afternoon and discuss how you wanted business handled.”

“I told you,” I said. “I don’t care about the firm. I want nothing to do with it.”

“Which is fine,” he said. “But legally, you would need to decide the future of it. Or at least decide who would be in charge of it.”

“Sell it,” I replied. “Is that possible?”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Nolan said.

I shook my head, “I’m not going anywhere today. I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone. At all.”

“Well,” Nolan said, staring out past me out the window now. “I don’t think that’s a problem. We’re snowed in. Michael texted me a few minutes ago. Even with chains he can’t drive up here. The drive is too dangerous; the roads are covered. And being that it’s still snowing, I think we’re trapped for the day.”

I sighed, “Fantastic.”
This gets more Donner Party by the minute,
I began to realize.
Or maybe it’s the Shining. Red rum.

Nolan smiled. Or really, smirked.

“It’s not so bad,” he said. “Gives you time to rest and process all that’s happened in the past 24 hours.”

“Right,” I retorted. “Like the fact that I not only found out my father is dead, but that he’s been dead over a week. And that he apparently had some secret compound on the other side of the country, a compound large enough to house twenty people had he chosen to. I need to process that my father is gone and I never got to know a single thing about him other than random anecdotes he would hand out to me periodically over the years. Most of those years were spent not knowing when he would pop back into my life to assure me he hadn’t forgotten me. I need to process that he didn’t trust me to handle his affairs. He chose to shut me out, like he always did. I need to process that, despite what I’d desperately wanted to not be true, my father didn’t think much of me. As a matter of fact, he didn’t think of me at all.”

I was sobbing now, shaking with grief and rage at my fucked up circumstances. I didn’t want to do this in front of Nolan Weston, but I was stuck here with him, so I might as well let it all out. Besides, what did I care what he thought? I was probably just some rich kid brat to him, the daughter of the guy that signed his paychecks.

Suddenly, arms were around me. Strong arms, the kind that completely enveloped me in their embrace. I was shocked at first, frozen in place. But immediately I accepted what he was offering. I needed to lean on something. Anything.

Even if I still didn’t trust him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his chin resting on top of my head. “I… I know it’s probably not appropriate, but I couldn’t help it.”

I pressed my head against his chest, so solid. He smelled as good as he looked. Like I’d imagined- woodsy and robust. I hated to admit it, but he was intoxicating.

We stood there like that for a moment, the only sounds were my quiet crying muffled by his shoulder.

After a few moments he gently pulled away, his hands still on my shoulders. I looked up at him, realizing how close his mouth was to mine. We stared at one another a long, awkward moment. His expression suddenly changed back to his cold, professional self and he pulled away.

“Camilla,” he said. “I really am sorry. But you have to know… Your father thought of you all the time. He spoke of you almost every day. You were very important to him, despite how it might have appeared.”

I was taken aback at Nolan’s ability to go from cold to warm and back again so quickly. My cheek was still warm from being pressed against him.

“How do you know?” I asked. “What would you know about any of it?”

“More than you realize,” he said quietly.

“Well, great,” I said. “I’m so glad he was able to share that with an employee and not me.”

Nolan sighed, “I’m not trying to upset you. I was hoping my words could comfort you.”

“Well, they don’t,” I said. “I’m sorry. I just don’t trust you. I feel like I’m part of a big con. The con that was my father’s life.”

Nolan suddenly raised his voice, “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Camilla. I won’t have you say something like that. Not about your father. Very soon you’re going to understand why he made the choices he made. And once you have that knowledge, there’s no going back. But until you know what you’re actually talking about, maybe it’s better you don’t speak about him at all.”

I was dumbfounded, “Wait. You’re telling me not to speak about my own father? Who are you to tell me what to say, what to think? My father also taught me to see things for how they were. And until I have proof that his life wasn’t a total farce and that my place in it wasn’t a total inconvenience for him, I’m going to believe whatever I want. And you know what? I think I’m done talking to you about this. As far as I’m concerned, you don’t exist. I’m going to my side of the house and you go to your side. And I pray to GOD that this fucking storm stops soon so I can get as far away from this house and
you
as soon as possible.”

I didn’t bother to gauge his reaction to my temper tantrum. The tears were coming again and I was tired of crying in front of him. Instead I walked quickly away, through the kitchen, through the millions of rooms, and back to the sanctuary of my temporary bedroom.

I needed this storm to be over. I needed to get out of here.