“I do.” She heaved a sigh, one that sounded like she could do with some R&R too, then, before I could suggest she did something crazy like take some time off and maybe come and visit California, she inserted, “Wynter’s helping with that?”
“She is, but when she’s at school, not so much,” I said dryly.
“Your playmate’s busy, huh?” she teased.
“She is.”
“You’re enjoying hanging out with her?”
“I really am. She’s a cool kid. Sometimes, she forgets that she likes being around me and she remembers she’s a teenager and that she hates the world, but those times are becoming fewer and farther between.”
“I’m glad. Did you get her the helmet?”
“Yeah.” I grinned to myself. “She was very happy when I gave it to her.”
“Biker spawn. No escaping the call of the road,” she joked, but I knew she understood the fire in my belly.
“Damn straight. I spoke with Blade, the Disciples’ Prez, again.”
“Busier day than you just catching some downtime like you said,” she mocked, but she knew that, originally, he’d given me a seventy-two-hour deadline to stay on his territory, and Blade had been surprisingly patient this far.
I had a feeling his MC was dealing with a shitstorm of their own, but without Mav to go hunting for information, I had no real proof of that.
Whatever the reason, so long as I kept on checking in, Blade was okay with me staying for the interim.
“Yeah. I guess.”
“What did he want? A pound of flesh as payment for staying?”
“No, just said that he’d kill me if I fucked anything in Burbank up. The usual.”
“A nice, everyday conversation then?”
I snorted.
“Any updates on the apartment?” she continued.
“Not really. Maybe next week she’ll let me talk about it with her. It’s still a sore subject.”
“She’s got a lot of her daddy’s pride,” Rachel joked. “You’d be the one who’d know how to get around it.”
I grunted. “You’d think so. But no dice yet. How are the plans for the gala coming along?”
“Great. With Lily involved, my life is so much easier. She coordinates with the events organizers so I don’t have to. Did you know Lily’s a Lindenbourg?”
Her hushed voice had me smiling. “I did. I’m glad that’s working out.”
“Why?”
“I know she wanted to keep on helping with the books, but…” I shrugged. “Plausible deniability doesn’t help when you ain’t married to your woman.”
“That’s always been the flaw with Old Ladies.”
I grunted. “Why do you think Dad married Mom?”
She just hummed, but I knew she’d have heard the tension in my voice.
“Anyway, you got a dress?” I queried, wanting, hell, needing to change the subject.
“This close to the gala and you think I wouldn’t have one already?”
“You gonna take a picture of it for me?”
“Do you want me to take a picture for you?” she drawled.
“I’d like to see it.” Because she was tricksy, I muttered, “With you in it.”
“Thinking like a lawyer. Smart, Rex. Smart.”
“That’s me,” I joked. My smile faded and I told her the truth, “Miss you, Rach. It’s better than it was before, but I miss you.”
A breath gusted from her lips. “And I miss you.” She didn’t ask when I was coming back, which I was grateful for, but said instead, “I’m glad we’re talking.”
“Me too. I didn’t think it would flow as easy as this, but it is.”
She cleared her throat. “I know you’re trying to relax and everything, but I wondered if you’d like to hear Bear’s will? That clause of your dad’s that we read it together would be satisfied.”
“I can think of better ways to spend my time,” I mocked, “but yeah, I guess it needs to be done.”
The prospect set my nerves on edge, though, so I got to my feet and clambered over to the mini bar.
This conversation called for JD and Coke.
I didn’t give a damn if it was a couple hours after breakfast or not.
“The privacy screen is up,” she assured me. “Emile can’t hear.”
“Wouldn’t matter if he could. I’m sure I know what’s going to where and to whom.”
“The main reason I wanted to speak with you when you were still in California is because there are some stipulations in his will.”
“What kind of stipulations?”
“Bequests to certain people. Storm’s one of them.”
“You waiting to tell him when he rides up for the funeral?” I knew that was being delayed while I was AWOL.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not supposed to say.”
“Yeah, okay.”
She sighed impatiently. “It’s on my discretion.”
“What is? The bequest?”
“No. You have to remember that this will was updated last year, so Storm and Keira were separated.”
“So? They still are, aren't they? Even if she moved to Ohio.”
“So, that upset Bear.”
“It upset all of us.”
She grunted. “Upon his death, I was to wait no more than twelve months to see if they managed to get back together again.”
“Why? He couldn’t directly control whether they got back together again or not.”
“I know,” she hedged.
“You might as well just tell me. You know that Storm will eventually.”
Another grunt. “I have two letters here. One to send to him if it appears reconciliation will never happen, and one to send if they get back together again.”
“What’s the difference?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t read the letters. They're sealed.”
“Does he get an inheritance?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” I scrubbed my chin. “He was like a second son to my parents; I’m glad Dad’s recognized that when it counts.”
“I’m frustrated with myself.”
“Why?”
“For dreading this. I was expecting you to be annoyed about that and… well, I know you’ll be mad about the next matter but I was being dumb about Storm’s inclusion in the will.”
“You thought I’d begrudge Storm getting an inheritance?” I scoffed. “I don’t need Dad’s money anyway.”
“No, I know. Like I said, I was being dumb.”
Unusually for me, I didn’t argue because it was definitely dumb of her to think I’d begrudge Storm anything.
He’d had a shitty life and had been handed shittier odds. The only semblance of normalcy came from the times when he’d been living with us as a kid, before his bitch of a mom came and took him away from us. And during his marriage to Keira, although that had been fucking weird in its own way.
Not that I could judge.
My relationship with Rachel wasn't exactly normal.