8. Mia
Chapter eight
Mia
“Here you go, love. June won’t be a moment.” The beautiful receptionist places down a proper espresso coffee, and a plate of cheese and crackers. I’m in the waiting room of Gerrard’s recommended financial advisor, and oh boy , can I tell they deal with wealthy clients. The burnt orange occasional chairs pop against the white carpet and walls, and the artfully placed greenery and coffee tables ensures the office doesn’t look sterile. Rather than designed, the place looks curated .
I have only been flipping through one of the arty coffee table books for a couple of minutes before a well-manicured woman appears through a panel on the wall. I hadn’t even realized they opened. She approaches me in long, confident strides, offering her hand.
“You must be Mia. I’m June. Would you like to come through with me?”
I gather up my handbag which contains the piles of papers Gerrard left with me, organized by Abigail into neat piles. Before I can try to juggle the cheese plate and coffee, the receptionist appears, taking my coffee and the plate of snacks. “I’ll follow you in with these.”
Once we get settled and June has introduced Rachel, the blonde woman who is already in the meeting room when we arrive, I start pulling the various envelopes out of my bag to hand over. June gently raises her hand, palm out and says “before we get started, Mia, I’d love if you could give me the elevator pitch of why you’re here, and we can get to know each other a bit?” I nod, trying to organize my thoughts. It’s not an easy feat, they’re rushing through my head at top speed.
“Don’t worry about trying to filter for me,” June says with an easygoing smile. “I can assure you, I’ve heard it all before. Though, I hope you didn’t rob a jewelry store. In my experience, that can be tricky to work through.” I laugh. Too loudly probably, but it works at putting me at ease. I like her already.
I tell her the basics of the story, skipping the details. “So, that’s it. It’s millions, I think. I don’t know how much. I guess that’s why I’m here.” I gesture to the piles of paperwork. “This is all the paperwork the lawyer gave me.”
“Okay, great. I’m assuming these are trust documents and share certificates?”
I nod. “I guess so. To be completely honest, I haven’t been able to bring myself to look through them in detail.” It’s a lie; I’ve been over every page, multiple times, in excruciating detail, but I don’t trust what I think I saw. I want a professional take on it.
Jane nods, her expression soft. “It’s a big change to get your head around, huh? Don’t worry, we’ll get to the bottom of it together.” She tucks her straight dark hair behind one ear, her brows furrowed. “Often, we’ve found people in your situation find it more difficult to work through than they might have expected. Inheriting life-changing money, especially what sounds like could be millions, is a big life event, even if it didn’t come with a direct loss. We always recommend you make sure you have excellent support around you.”
Jane and Rachel start re-sorting the documents into new piles while my stomach ties itself in knots. June notes down numbers on her unlined notepad. I’m nervous. I don’t know what I’m even nervous about. Finding out the exact details of money that barely belongs to me is hardly something to be stressed about. After a few minutes of sifting through the paperwork and typing things into a calculator, June underlines a number, circles it twice, then slides the notepad across the table.
“This is your inheritance, in cash and investments. There are also some business holdings which Rachel will need to look up separately.” My jaw drops. The number had far more zeros than I expected. Not millions, billions.
Rachel gathers up one of the piles of paperwork. “I’ll be back in a few moments.” I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
June lets me sit in silence for a few minutes, processing, before she speaks again. “I want to understand your goals so we can make sure your money is working for you. You might not have had enough time to think about it, but if you had one goal with this money, what would it be? Don’t think too hard, just the first thing that comes to mind.”
Steph’s words from the other day about lottery winners float into my mind. “I don’t want to be one of those people who comes into money then spends it all in the first year on stuff they can’t afford the upkeep on. I just…” I try to find the words. “I’m worried this will change me. Like, who I am, fundamentally. I don’t want an expensive house and three cars and no friends.” My voice cracks, and I have to hold back tears. For a non-crier, I sure am welling up quickly and often lately. “I guess you probably can’t help with that.” My smile is tight.
June nods sympathetically. “Two great bits of news for you, Mia. First, it would be exceptionally difficult for you to spend this amount of money in a year unless you decided you wanted to launch a mission to Mars or colonize the moon. It’s not exactly the same scale as your classic lottery winner.” She neatens one of the piles of paperwork in front of her. “And second, you found out about this money just a few days ago, and you’re here, getting professional advice. I’m not concerned about that being your future. You’re taking all the right steps.”
I let out a breath. I haven’t realized how much I needed to hear that. Some tiny part of me wants to be the best example of a person who inherits a lot of money. Almost like I want to prove I have earned it, in some convoluted way. I just need a professional to tell me I’m doing the right thing.
“The first thing I suggest we do is work out an amount you can just spend. I always recommend this for my clients who come into money unexpectedly. If you’ve got some money that’s budgeted for spending, you can spend guilt free and not worry about blowing anything. The second thing is to set up a regular amount paid to you from your interest accumulation for regular spending.”
After a few moments of discussing what could be a reasonable amount on a regular basis, we get to what, if anything, I want to spend money on. “The problem is, I don’t know what I would want to buy. I have a job, I earn pretty good money. There’s not a lot extra I want.”
June nods. “Sure, I’ve seen this before. I’d suggest buying higher-quality versions of things you were going to buy. That’s the thing about wealthy people; they can afford to spend more on something once, which saves them from having to buy another of the same thing when the old one wears out.” I’ve heard Steph talk about this before.
“That makes sense, but I still don’t want to advertise that I’ve come into money. I don’t want things to change.” I can’t see a way forward where my life stays the same, and I get to access any of this money. But maybe that’s okay.
“No one’s going to force you to spend this. Maybe it’s worth thinking about what kinds of things you could do for other people? Is there a holiday you could take your friends on that they may not be able to afford? Perhaps they think you’ve won a trip? Can you donate to charity?” Not bad ideas.
Rachel comes back holding three printouts, which she hands out. She leans forward in her chair, running her pen down two columns.
“These are your index funds. This number here—” She circles a number in the bottom row. “—is included in the cash and investments June mentioned earlier. This column—” Rachel moves on to the second column. “—tells you which fund we’re talking about.” She pulls a second bit of paper from behind her first.
“If you flip to your second page, this represents your shareholdings in a company called Starlight Resorts.” June and I look at each other, faces both as blank as each other's. “I guess you two haven’t heard of it either. Turns out, Starlight Resorts is a multinational corporation that owns the majority of the world's ski resorts. And you, Mia, own thirty-three percent of Starlight Resorts.”
I look down at the bit of paper. The numbers are swimming on the page, I can’t work out what each column represents. June runs her pen down the various columns and across rows. Her perfect eyebrows rise but before she can speak, Rachel breaks the silence. “Starlight Resorts is worth more than the rest of your portfolio combined, Mia.”
The quiet is oppressive. June looks…is that impressed? Rachel is positively giddy to have been the one to break the news. Despite feeling like I had been in quite a good headspace just a couple of minutes ago, right now I feel like I should have my head between my knees and be breathing heavily into a paper bag. Jesus Christ.
“This is a lot of information, Mia, I know.” June is quiet, reassuring. “It would be a good idea for you to have a chat with the lawyer you spoke to last week, I’m sure they would be able to tell you more about Starlight Resorts.”
“My best guess is that the other sixty six percent is owned by someone in the family—most of the information suggested that Simon and Shelly Hillcrest were the previous owners.” Rachel says.
Shelly and Simon. My birth parents. None of this makes sense. Why had they given the money to me? They adopted me out? And where does that leave me? Sure, my parents had reacted just fine so far, but are they privately devastated by the news? Now it’s not just money, though. With what sounds like a family business, will they be worried I’m going to run off and reinvent myself as a Hillcrest, abandoning my Davis roots?
June seems to sense I’m flagging. “This has been a lot, I know. Let me show you the way out, and Rach and I will leave you here, give you a bit of time to yourself. Please stay as long as you want.” June shows me a separate exit that will deposit me on the street on the opposite side of the block I came in on. That explains why I hadn’t seen anyone else leaving on my way in. Just like I don’t want to see anyone right now, there are probably plenty of wealthy people who aren’t interested in other people knowing they were wealthy.
Other wealthy people. What a surreal thing to think about.
Before she leaves, June slides me her business card. “My personal number is on the back. Please give me a call if you have any questions. We’re here to help.”
Things haven’t gotten any easier by the time I get home. For some reason, I had imagined that being in the safety of my own flat would help me process. Instead, I’m greeted with a bouquet of white lilies from Will on my doorstep. As I’m cutting the stems, my mind wanders back to that kiss of ours under the stars. Once I get the lilies into a vase, I collapse on the sofa, hugging a throw pillow to my chest.
The kiss had been everything I’d been imagining for years. Since our first kiss. Will is the perfect guy. My perfect guy. Kind, caring, he actually listens. He’s always been there when I need him. He reassures me, when I need it. He bolsters me, he challenges me, he’ll commiserate with me. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s tall, dark and handsome. And he got those flowers delivered. I try to figure out whether it’s to help me feel better, or whether it’s a romantic gesture. I hope it’s a romantic gesture.
I sigh, pulling my knees up. I can’t deny that the kiss has stirred something up in me that I’ve been ignoring for years now. And any other time, I’d be jumping at the chance. Well, that’s not quite true, I don’t jump at any chances, even on a good day. But in my own, considered way, if the situation was different, maybe I’d be able to take a shot with Will.
Right now, though? It doesn’t feel like I have the bandwidth to deal with anything new. Between coming to terms with this money, panicking about whether I’m horribly disappointing my parents, and trying to decide whether I should visit my brother Craig in hospital, I simply don’t have anything left to put into a relationship right now. What if we try it and it doesn’t work out?
I pull out my phone. Will and I were messaging earlier today, but I didn’t have time to respond before heading to the financial advisor.
Will
good luck with the finance people.
Thank you for the flowers. They’re my favorite.
I know. and you’re my favorite. hope you’re doing okay. did you decide whether you’re going to visit Craig?
I think I do want to. I’m nervous it won’t be how I expect though.
what do you expect? what are you hoping to get out of it?
I run my hand through my hair. It’s a good question. And my answer is one I can’t admit to, not even to Will. What I hope is that by seeing Craig, I’d finally feel like I truly fit somewhere. My parents have always been fantastic. They always do their best to make sure I truly feel like I’m part of the family, and I do; I am. It’s just that now, I also have this nagging that I also was, at one point, at least, part of another family. Maybe meeting Craig in the flesh would solidify that for me, help me fill that little gap.
I can’t face going all the way to France to visit him alone. I don’t think I’ll be upset seeing Craig, but until I’m there in person, how will I know? Besides, I’ve been emotional so frequently lately that I don’t trust myself to hold it together. Maybe seeing him will be like holding up a mirror, and suddenly, everything I’ve hoped for will fall into place. Or maybe, Craig will just be a stranger.
Mia
I think seeing him is the right thing to do. Will you come with me? He’s in a hospital in France.
love to. like I said, got lots of air-points. we can make a fun weekend out of it