Fallen Elements (11 page)

Standing, Ryan shook the man’s hand. “Thank
you.” Sitting down, she crossed her legs and rested her bag on her
lap. “You can call me Ryan.”

Sitting down on the other side of a large,
rectangular mahogany desk, the man nodded as he opened a thick
manila folder, and typed into a laptop that sat to his left. “I
appreciate that.” Ryan took note that the man did not extend her
the same informality.

The door opened again, and Lisa walked in
with a bottle of water and a glass of ice. “Here you are, Ms.
Myers.”

“Lisa, can you push the partner meeting back
fifteen minutes?” Ronald asked without looking up from his
laptop.

“Yes.” Lisa didn’t look at her boss, but
rather put the water and glass on the edge of his desk, smiling
briefly at Ryan.

Lisa left, and Ryan poured half the water
into the glass, and took a long drink. She wasn’t prone to
nervousness normally, but had to remind herself she
was
the
client regardless of how pretentious the man across from her was
behaving.

Leaning back in his chair, the attorney
smiled at Ryan. “I’ve had Lisa prepare a reckoning of the assets
your mother left you. The man scanned a sheet of paper. “It looks
like in total - twenty two million, three hundred thousand.” He
glanced up at Ryan. “Plus or minus a few thousand.”

Ryan put her water down. “May I see the
portfolio statement, please?”

Mr. Perkis slid a thinner manila folder
across the desk to Ryan. “That is simply the cash assets. Your
mother owned three private residences and two commercial
properties. All included in the summary.” The man thumbed through
the thicker folder, and then slid several pieces of paper toward
Ryan along with a black Mont Blanc pin. “Please review, and sign
where I’ve marked. That will complete the transfer.”

Ryan pulled the documents toward her, and
began reading. The documents consisted of several transfer deeds
for the various properties, ownership updates to the brokerage and
annuity accounts. Ryan signed, and slid the papers back to the
attorney.

Glancing at the papers, Mr. Perkis nodded.
“Very good. If I could get your driver’s license, we will get these
notarized.”

Ryan took her ID from her wallet. “Out of
curiosity, what’s the portfolio’s rate of return?”

Mr. Perkis’ brow arched, and he held up his
index finger before pressing a green button on his desk phone.
“Lisa, can you please come in with your notary pack?” Turning his
attention back to Ryan, Mr. Perkis smiled. “The average is a little
over nine percent. I’m happy to report that held, even during the
downturn. Overall the portfolio grew. It helped, of course, that
Karen wasn’t taking any income from the accounts.”

Ryan nodded. “Neither will I.”

Mr. Perkis frowned. “I was told -”

Ryan closed the folder. “I have a job and
don’t see the point.” She slid the folder into her bag. “I will be
taking a distribution of sixty thousand dollars, however.” Her
student loan deferment was coming to an end, and she had decided
after accepting the liaison position for substantially less than
she had hoped for, that she would use some of the money to pay off
the notes.

Ryan had not struggled with the decision to
leave her mother’s money relatively untouched. She had a unique
perspective on what that level of wealth could do to a person’s
perspective. Often the shifts in priorities happened subtly, and
she feared she night lose herself.

Ryan didn’t want to fall into the trap of
believing wealth had any correlation to a person’s character and
convictions. Her mother had so completely comingled her wealth with
who she was that she became the sum of what she could buy, donate,
sponsor, and chair. Ryan’s integrity was her most priceless
commodity.

Mr. Perkis nodded. “I see. Well, we hope you
will keep your business with us. We have managed your family’s
finances for over seventy years.”

There was a faint knock at the door, and a
moment later Lisa entered with a large brown book and an ink stamp.
Without a word, the attorney handed the paralegal Ryan’s
identification and the papers she had signed. The woman, leaning
over the corner of the desk, began to write Ryan’s information in
the brown book.

Ryan took a drink of her water, and hoped Mr.
Perkis didn’t notice the slight tremor in her hand. “I haven’t made
that decision yet. I need to look over the summaries, and will let
you know by the end of next week.”

Mr. Perkis frowned, and Ryan saw a faint
smile cross Lisa’s lips as she continued to focus on her notary
task. “I was being rhetorical, Ryan. When someone your age inherits
not only a large sum of money and property, but truly a legacy, it
is always best to stay the course.”

Ryan had been unsure if she disliked the man,
or was feeling intimidated by the nature of the meeting. In a split
second, she knew the answer to be the former. “Ronald, I grew up
with this money and its
legacy
. So don’t worry about my
ability to determine the best course of action for it - and
me.”

The man sat slack jawed as Ryan stood.
“Please have the sixty thousand dollars withdrawn.” Ryan turned her
attention to a clearly amused Lisa. “May I email you with the
wiring instructions?”

Nodding, the dark haired woman handed Ryan
her ID back, and her business card. “Please, and I’ll send you
copies of what you’ve signed today.” The woman quickly winked at
Ryan.

Ronald Perkis, however, nearly hurdled his
desk to get out in front of Ryan and open his office door for her.
“I - I look forward to your call, Ms. Myers.”

Ryan gave the man a brisk nod and walked down
the hall toward the bank of elevators. Leaning against the
stainless steel wall of the elevator, Ryan’s knees felt loose from
the surge of adrenaline. She had no idea what she was going to do.
She would need to find another attorney. Preferably one that didn’t
have a stick up his ass. Already, the complications she had avoided
for years by not associating with her family were raising their
ugly heads.

Waiting at the MTA stop, Ryan was running
through Remembrance’s diary in her mind. After reading just a
portion of the book, Ryan realized now, perhaps more than ever,
just how unlike her family she was. Her ambitions were wholly her
own. Politics, money, lobbying, it all seemed vapid and inevitably
self-serving to Ryan.

Ryan glanced back at the skyscraper behind
her, and shook her head. On top of those inherent pitfalls, money
also afforded you the all too exciting opportunity to deal with
self-gratifying assholes.

“Are you ready to get this done?” A very
enthusiastic Greg asked as Ryan, Nicole and he walked through
Patterson Park toward the football fields on a clear but cold
Saturday morning. The park was a sprawling one hundred and thirty
seven acres in the Canton neighborhood of Baltimore, and home to
Hampstead Hill, the site of a major defensive hold against the
British during the War of 1812.

Today, the hill boasted scenic views of the
harbor, and was home to the beloved Pagoda. The structure,
originally an observatory with its Japanese inspired aesthetic, was
actually modeled after Victoria style architecture prevalent during
its construction in 1890.

Ryan thought of the park as an oasis, since
it was inspired by and modeled after New York City’s Central Park.
Whenever she visited, she always felt a little nostalgic for her
childhood and days in the park with Carol and her aunt.

“Are you focused today, Myers?” Greg nudged
Ryan’s shoulder as they neared the sports fields.

“Calm down. We’ve got this.” The truth was
Ryan was feeling off center. It wasn’t just thinking about her
family that left Ryan restless. To her surprise, she was actually
missing them – or at least, she was missing her cousin. But also,
she couldn’t stop thinking about Leah, who had agreed to attend the
game today.

“Are you nervous?” Nicole looked
concerned.

Ryan had told Nicole and Greg both about Leah
coming to the game. She had shared some of her feelings about the
woman with Nicole, though she had left the parts out about lust
fueled heat flashes and still not talking to the woman about her
history with the Myers family.

“You’re attracted to her. What’s the
problem?” Nicole had asked over a bowl of Frosted Flakes and a cup
of coffee. The two women were sitting at their dining room table,
both still in their flannel pajamas Nicole’s mother had bought them
the Christmas before last.

Ryan poured cream into her coffee. “No
problem. It’s just never going to happen.”

“Because of the age thing? I thought people
were over that. I mean fourteen year olds look thirty, thirty year
olds are in wrinkle cream commercials, and obviously
forty-somethings can look thirty three.” Nicole gestured with her
spoon as if conducting a symphony.

Ryan took a sip of her coffee. “I don’t care
about that.”

“Then what is it?” Nicole had pressed.

Recalling the conversation, Ryan looked down
at the ground shaking her head as they walked toward the sports
fields. The truth was, Leah didn’t seem all that interested in
anything more than friendship. Add to that the still outstanding
mystery of her relationship with Ryan’s mother, and the whole thing
seemed doomed from the start. “I’m not nervous. I just hope Leah
isn’t disappointed.”

“Well you explained to her how this works,
right?” Greg was referencing the BSSC flag football divisions, and
the fact that even though they belonged to the Super Extreme Social
division, their game play was anything but super.

“Yeah. I told her we’re essentially out here
to have a good time.” Hoping to spot Leah, Ryan began scanning the
fields and the few intermittently placed bleachers as they
approached the sports area.

“Understatement.” Nicole laughed. “It’s the
perfect excuse for otherwise sane people to drink at ten in the
morning.”

“I love me my day time drunks.” Greg chimed
in. Nicole laughed and Greg smiled, clearly pleased he had amused
the woman.

“Greetings, fellow Fluffy Box of Kittens
teammates.” Philip Baird waved to the three as they began putting
their bags and water bottles down near the side of the field.
Philip was a British transplant, and had only been in the States
for a little over a year. He was in his mid-twenties, with curly
blond hair and a perfectly chiseled jaw line. Much to Nicole’s, and
most of the other women on the team’s chagrin, Philip was not only
a dedicated bachelor, but gay.

“You think he’s really committed to that?”
Nicole had asked as they sat around Kislings after their first game
together.

Ryan rolled her eyes at her roommate. “Are
you seriously asking
me
that question?”

Nicole had sheepishly shrugged as she drank
her pint. “There’s such a thing as bisexual.”

Ryan shook her head. “Then he would have
said,
mates - I’m bisexual
. But he said gay.”

“Isn’t mates Australian?” Nicole had teased.
She had moved past her initial doubt and infatuation when a drunk
Philip had coined the team’s name, and insisted their team t-shirts
be fuchsia.

Philip nodded toward a set of bleachers.
“Ryan, a woman asked after you. She wanted to know if she was at
the right field. She’s up there with her friend.”

Ryan shielded her eyes from the morning sun
as she looked up. Leah was sitting near the top of the six row
bleachers, next to a brown haired woman Ryan didn’t recognize. She
had on a pair of slim cut jeans, a gray cable knit sweater, and
burgundy colored scarf. Ryan continued to be amazed at how
beautiful Leah was.

“Who’s she with?” Nicole followed Ryan’s
gaze.

“Don’t know.” Ryan looked at Nicole. “Makes
sense she wouldn’t come on her own.” The woman looked older than
Leah, or more accurately, she looked like her chronological
contemporary. Ryan had to admit she was attractive. Her hair was
cut short and stylishly messy. She had a heavier build than Leah,
and her curves filled out her dark jeans and burgundy sweater
perfectly.

Greg put his arm around Ryan. “Are you going
to introduce everyone?”

A wave of nervousness washed over Ryan, and
she was regretting that she had invited Leah. It wasn’t because she
didn’t want to see her. Somehow, though, the introduction of Leah
into her social circle, even if it was just for the afternoon, made
the relationship not only more real, but more intimate.

“Of course. Come on.” Ryan was impressed she
had managed the casual tone even though her insides were doing
somersaults.

Walking up the bleachers, Nicole and Greg in
tow, Ryan reminded herself she had asked for this, and mustered her
courage accordingly.

“Leah.” Ryan smiled as she stood in front of
the two women. “You’re here.”

Leah looked up, an immediate smile spreading
across her lips. “Hey, good to see you again.” The woman stood, and
to Ryan’s delight, hugged her.

“Who’s this?” Ryan smiled at the woman who
now stood at Leah’s side.

“I’m sorry. This is my friend Pamela Nollner.
She’s down from Boston on business, and I thought she might enjoy a
bit of sport.”

“A very
little
bit of sport.” Greg
smiled as he extended his hand to Leah. “I’m Greg Matthews, and
this is Ryan’s roommate, Nicole Wright.”

Leah laughed as she took Greg’s hand. “Leah
Brewer - and I did look up the BSSC divisions, and I assume you are
in the - what was it - super extreme social division?”

“It’s sanctioned day drinking. It’s like
coming home every Saturday.” Nicole shook Leah and Pam’s hands as
the group erupted in laughter.

“Then my trip isn’t a total waste.” Pam
joked.

“We’ll do right by you.” Ryan winked and the
group fell into a casual back and forth conversation.