Somebody to Love(8)

“No! Lucy, thank you. But no. Harry, Ethan and Lucy just got married. I’m not moving in with them! What about your apartment? You could sell that and—”

“Parker,” James said as gently as he could. “The SEC has seized all your father’s assets. The apartment, this house, the place in Vermont…everything.”

She glanced out the window. “There goes the Steinway. Holy crap.” She swallowed, then looked at James, her expression bleak. “When do I have to be out?”

“They’ll leave your rooms for last,” he said. “You have till the end of the month.”

“This month?”

“This month,” Vernon confirmed.

She squeezed her pinkie again. “Okay,” she said, biting her lip. “Well, that’s… I was actually thinking it might not be a bad idea to move to a smaller place.”

“Smaller place. Not a bad idea,” Vernon echoed, and James resisted the urge to duct-tape his mouth shut.

“Let me go call Ethan, okay, Parker?” Lucy said.

“Okay,” Parker said distantly.

“Look,” Lucy said more firmly. “You’re not alone in this. Okay? I have some money put aside, and you’d do the same for me. We’re family.”

Harry made a rude snorting noise.

“Shut up, Harry,” Lucy snapped. “You should be grateful she has friends when her own father does this to her.”

Score one for Team Lucy.

“Thanks, Luce.” Parker said. “But it’s fine. I’ll be fine. But sure, go call Ethan. Fill him in.”

Whereupon the Paragon would no doubt charge up the driveway on his white horse and rescue the mother of his child. Which, no doubt, Parker would love. James sighed.

Harry was staring at the python, and James thought, not for the first time, that if he gave his daughter as much attention as he gave the snake, things would be a lot less chilly in the Welles family.

“So my trust fund’s gone,” she said. “The stock market’s not too bad these days. How’s my portfolio doing?”

Harry still didn’t look at her. “Anything you had through Welles Financial is now unavailable.”

“Unavailable?”

“I’ll get it back, Parker!” Harry snapped. “You have what’s in your checking account at the moment. Do you have anything in savings?”

“No! You told me the stock market was better than…well, what am I saying? You’re a felon. I took advice from a felon. Good God. I guess I should’ve stuffed some cash into the mattress.” Parker gave a shaky laugh.

Clearly the news was catching up with her. She ran a hand through her long hair, the strands falling back into place. Smooth, silky hair that— Been there, worshipped that, his conscience chided.

“I can believe you took my money,” she said. “But I can’t believe you stole Nicky’s. That’s really low, Harry. Even for you.”

“It was necessary,” he barked.

“For what? For covering your ass?”

James held up his hands. “Okay, okay, let’s just…let’s try to calm down. This is a lot to take in. Your father made a mistake—”

“How much did you lose, Thing One?” she asked abruptly.

James hesitated.

“Oh. I get it,” she said, and if looks could kill, James would be lying in a bottomless puddle of blood right about now. “So you knew. Well. Do go on.”

“You have six thousand dollars in your checking account, and since that’s in your name only, it’s free and clear.”

“I have to make a phone call,” Harry said, unwinding his pet and putting him back in the case. “Vernon, come with me, please. I need the information on the drug-company stock. Parker, James can fill you in on the rest.”

“There’s more? Are you going to beat me with a rubber hose, Thing One? I can’t wait.”

James waited till the study door closed, leaving him alone with Parker. And Apollo.

Nope, not alone. The mover was back. “Okay if we start on the dining room? Packing up that china’s gonna take a while. It’s really nice! Expensive, I bet.”

“Go for it,” Parker said. When he was gone again, she looked at James. “Is Harry really going to jail?” she asked, and James had to say, it wasn’t the question he imagined she’d ask.

“Yes. He went to the D.A. and confessed this morning, so that’s why it hasn’t been in the news yet. Monday morning, though…”

She gave him an odd look. “He confessed? That doesn’t seem like him.”

James looked at his hands. “Yeah.” There was that ticking noise again.

Parker sighed. “So, all this other stuff…Granddad’s boat and the paintings and Grandma’s china…it doesn’t belong to us anymore?”

He turned to face her. “Anything in this house that you personally bought stays with you—your clothes, artwork, your car, anything you bought for your son—but the rest will go to refund what Harry’s clients lost.”

“So I have no savings, no portfolio, no trust fund, and we have to move. Is that it in a nutshell?”

“Harry was able to secure another five thousand in cash for you.” James reached into his briefcase—a gift from Harry—and handed her an envelope, which she took automatically. “You have some jewelry that’s yours, right?”