GOLDEN || S. REID

𝟹: 𝚂𝚊𝚗 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚘, 𝙲𝙰

The next morning was... abysmal. She had her breakfast in bed, as Julia had planned for and met with Vermont shortly after. The fat old man didn't leave her office until three hours after the start time, however, which irritated Eliza far more than she cared to show. Thank God for Julia escorting the man out the second she arrived or else Eliza was sure she would have blown a gasket.

"It's a shame we still need his business," Eliza commented. She watched Vermont leave the building accompanied by his own personal assistant. The two now-tiny figures climbed into a black car and left the premises not too long after. "I would have dropped him ages ago if not for the sheer amount of money he donates during charity events."

"His wife said his heart health isn't doing so good," Julia told her the morbid bit of information. She didn't look up from her laptop as she worked on drafting a paper for school. "Their family doctor said if he doesn't change his appetite, he could croak within the year."

Eliza turned away from the windows, an eyebrow raised in Julia's direction. "Since when were you one for the one-percent's gossip?"

"Since Ezra started hanging around more," she answered. "I swear, that man could power the entire Cosmopolitan magazine for a month with all the talking he does."

Eliza snorted, amused with Julia's observation of the eccentric designer. It was true. Ezra was a one-man-rumor-mill, constantly having something to say about anyone and everyone within the one-percent. She was just lucky enough not to have become his latest topic of conversation.

The two fell into a comfortable silence after that, Eliza tending to her stacks-upon-stacks of paperwork while Julia continued to work toward her degree.

Her mind kept drifting to Thomas's will in her bottom drawer, the fifty-page booklet taunting her through the mahogany of her desk. Who did the fucker even think he was? Enforcing her mental health from beyond the grave. Thomas didn't give two shits about her mental health when she was alive--barely even present for the engagement party or anything else. She treated him like she treated every other stranger, which wasn't too nice she'd admit.

But contrary to popular belief, Eliza wasn't the cold-hearted bitch to everyone. Anyone with eyes could see that she actually had feelings. The list of people she cared for was limited, but it was there. Her older brother, James, the twins, Riley and Noah, and even Julia made the list. Eliza made sure the people she loved knew that she loved them.

Thomas must have known that. They might have avoided each other like the plague in the safety of her mansion but she had to agree that he was a decent person when he was sober.

Eliza made a face. Maybe therapy was helping, despite her obvious reservations about the sessions. She thought about it a bit more, tracing her pen over a blank sheet of notebook paper.

The lines intertwined with each other and created a rough sketch of what could have maybe been a dog. After studying the photo for a moment, Eliza decided that there was a good reason why she was CEO of a company instead of an artist. Her creative skills were, for lack of better words, lacking.

"Do I have anything else scheduled for today?" Eliza asked, breaking the silence. She crumpled up the piece of paper and tossed the dog into her waste bin before turning on her phone, searching out the weather app. She frowned at the prediction of rain. Eliza hadn't brought an umbrella.

"You have the FBI agents coming to your house at five and dinner at six-thirty," Julia relayed to her, taking a short break from her work to finish off the iced coffee she had strolled in with. "But between now and then, you have about four hours to kill. I suggest you either finish planning the twin's birthday benefit or schedule a meeting with Ezra to finalize your gown for the next week's benefit."