Carly would be horrified.
I cleared my throat. “Thank you for looking into this matter, Sir.”
Elliott didn’t look up from the paperwork he was reviewing. He was wearing his gold wire-rimmed glasses, and he appeared more like a professor than my conception of a lawyer. Not that I knew many. Okay, any. My crowd consisted of bartenders and brawlers.
“You realize my specialty is medical malpractice.”
“I do, Sir.”
Tray leaned forward, not as willing as I was to play this particular game. “Did you find out anything or not?”
“Always impatient, aren’t you, Trayherne?” His father took off his glasses, set them on his blotter. “Though I have to applaud your choice of girlfriends, since yours is apparently a very wealthy woman.”
I let out the breath that had been caught in my chest all day. Hell, all weekend since I’d read that article online. “So it’s true.”
“It’s true. I did some checking around behind the scenes, and verified that the bulk of money is being held in trust for you until the age of twenty-five.”
Stunned, I glanced at Tray. He was staring back at me. “Why wasn’t I ever told about it?”
“The trust is bogus. Your aunt has been drawing from it as your guardian and still continues to do so, long after you’ve left her care.” He folded his hands over the papers. “I’m not sure how she managed it, but she set up a trust that was official looking enough to appease the courts after the settlement was reached, but it’s not legal. It’s not real. She’s been depleting the money all this time.”
“So it’s almost gone.” I gripped the arms of my chair. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. I didn’t want the money, didn’t know what to do with it, but it had been mine.
It was blood money, yes, and a sort of profit from the darkest days of my life. But that payment had been granted in my name, and I hadn’t even been given the option of deciding what to do with it.
“I said the bulk remains in the account. From what I can tell, your aunt is a frugal woman, though I’m not a litigator, not a private investigator. There is much I’m not privy to.”
Words. He was saying words, but in my head they were translating to blah-blah-blah.
“How much money?” Tray asked, his voice only slightly less tinny than his father’s. It was as if they were talking at the other end of a long tunnel.
“Over two million.” He consulted his notes. “Approximately two-point-three—”
That was the last thing I heard before my head was between my knees and Tray was crouching beside me, rubbing my back. “Breathe, baby. Just breathe.”
“I’m fine.” I was. Mostly. Just a little lightheaded and a lot confused.
How could I have gone from being a struggling bartender and occasional trainer to a millionaire?
That kind of thing didn’t happen to girls like me.
Just like getting a guy like Tray. He wasn’t supposed to fall for you either, was he?
I hated that voice in my head. Nothing ever drowned it out.
“Here, have some water.” Tray pushed a plastic cup at me and cupped the back of my head, helping me drink. I nudged him back and drained the cup, squeezing it in my fist so the last few drops squeezed over my funeral wear.
I’d buried my father in this skirt, and now I was burying the girl I’d been yesterday. The one who had to struggle for every nickel and dime.
Who’d never felt good enough to play with the big kids.
“Are you okay to stand?”
Blankly, I looked up at Tray. Why was he herding me out so fast?
Then I glanced at his father, and realized we were sitting in a viper’s den as far as Tray was concerned. He’d gone along with this visit because of me. Now that I’d gotten the info I needed, he wanted us to get out of there.
I couldn’t blame him. I wasn’t sure my legs would support me right now, but I couldn’t blame him.