Page 221 of Summer Heat
I let out a weak breath and wish I wasn’t so stubborn. I wish I could turn back the last twenty minutes, go back to the elevator with Martin, and let him have his stupid conversation with me. I wish I didn’t have this strong urge to uncover my past because with this urge comes devastation and sorrow that I’m not sure I’m strong enough to relive. Even though I have the memories from my nightmares, I’m not sure I want to experience them in the light. They’re more real in the light. I should have kept them buried in the darkness, but it’s too late for that. Mark’s sky-blue eyes bring back a flood of nightmares that I wish were just that.
I catch my breath and quickly step into the waiting elevator. I furiously press down the Close Door button and shift from one foot to the other as I silently pray that Mark is leaving the building. When I step out of the elevator on the twentieth floor, I am greeted by a carbon-copy Barbie named Tanner. I had a slight altercation with her kid sister, Skipper, the last time I was here. I take a deep breath and inform Barbie that I’m here to see Veronica Stein. She plasters her fake smile, showing me her expensive veneers, and asks me to take a seat. I know I should sit, but I feel like a gassed up bottle of pop that’s just been shaken. Instead, I pace the waiting area while nervously smoothing out my long wavy hair.
“Blake,” Veronica says, smiling when she spots me. “Come to my office, please.”
Veronica is in her late forties and has short brown hair that tucks into her chin. She has skin so fair that it’s almost translucent and sharp brown eyes. She’s always impeccably dressed in what I can only assume are custom-tailored skirt suits.
Once we step into her spacious office, I take a seat in one of the leather chairs across from her desk. Veronica starts to shuffle papers on her desk until she finds a large manila envelope that has my name on it. She puts on her designer reading glasses and unclasps the envelope. She takes out some papers and skims through them with a raised eyebrow.
“Well, happy belated birthday. I have some papers from your aunt’s will that we need to go over. It seems that Shelley wanted to give you half of her things on your eighteenth birthday and the rest on your twenty-fifth. A lot of people are doing that now,” Veronica explains.
I sigh. “Veronica, I don’t mean to be rude, but can we just go over the papers? I just want to get this over with.”
She laughs. “Oh, Blake, I wish you’d come intern for us. You’re my kind of girl.” Her brown eyes search my face before continuing. “Your aunt left you a key to a safety deposit box as well as two more properties. These are plots of land. She also left you more money; I assume to cover the taxes for the land for a while. You just have to sign off on everything, and you can be on your way.”
I’m totally dumbfounded. Shelley and I lived such a frugal life. I would have never known she had so much money.
“Are you okay?” Veronica asks, seeing my blank stare.
“Yes, I just...I would have never known that Shelley had so much money,” I reply honestly.
“Yeah, well, some people don’t like to flaunt what they have. I personally think if you’ve got it, use it while you’re alive. It’s no good to you once you’re dead—especially if you don’t have kids to hand it down to. Thankfully, your aunt had you to leave it for.”
I smile weakly and start signing the deed to the land. She hands me the safety deposit key in an envelope, and I thank her as I leave. As I wait for the elevator, I open the envelope in my hands. There’s a letter from Aunt Shelley along with a key.
Blake,
This is going to be a lot to take in, so you may want to sit down to read this.
When the elevators open I snap the letter shut and look up. My heart drops when I find the sky-blue eyes that terrorize my nights watching me intently. I take a moment to assess his face again, slowly this time. He looks about forty years old, give or take. His blond hair is slicked back; he has light blond hair that sprinkles his jaw. His nose is long and straight and his eyes—those sky-blue eyes. I’ve dreamt of finding him and asking him questions for so long, but now that I have him in front of me, I don’t think I can bear to know the answers.
“Mr. Lewis,” I say as I extend a shaky hand to greet him. “I’m Blake Brennan. I’m a friend of Aimee’s.”
I watch as his eyes widen before he finally sticks his hand in mine, I feel as if he’s reaching into my heart and turning the knife that’s been there for the past twenty-one years.
“It’s about time we formally meet, Blake,” he replies as he examines every inch of my face. “Would you like to step into my office? I have a couple of minutes to kill.”
My eyes widen at his choice of words, but I nod in agreement.
I pull out my phone as we reach his office door and send Cole a text message that says I’m thinking about him. If I die, I want him to know that. I wish I could have sent him one that said I love you, but I’m not that positive that I’m going to die.
Mark’s office is massive. He has a huge cherry wood desk in the middle of the room, a bookshelf to the left, a bar to the right with barstools, and an amazing view of the river and city behind him. The decor screams grandeur.
“Have a seat, Blake,” he says as he shrugs off his jacket and tosses it on a barstool. He misses it by a long shot, so it lands on the floor. I suppress the urge to pick it up and place it on a seat in front of his desk. He goes over to the bar and asks me if I want a drink. I shake my head no and watch as he pours himself some single malt scotch. Maybe I should have said yes.
“How are you?” he asks, searching my face.
I’m not sure my vocal cords will cooperate and reply.
I open my mouth a couple of times and finally clear my throat. “I’m...fine. How are you?” I ask in a confused tone.
“Good. How’s law school?” he asks, watching me intently.
This would be a good time to use my poker face. I take a deep breath and pray that I have a poker face to play with.
“How’d you know I was in law school?” I ask evenly.
“You said you’re a friend of Aimee’s. I assume you know her from school. That girl doesn’t have a social life outside of school. I’m assuming you have some questions for me?” he asks raising an eyebrow.
