Too Much Love
Copyright© 2017 by Tom Frost
Chapter 20
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 20 - Nick Coyle grew up not knowing about the billion-dollar legacy waiting for him on his eighteenth birthday. Money isn’t Nick’s only legacy, though. A dark history of excess and tragedy hang over both sides of his family. With the world suddenly offering him too much of everything and only five close friends to guide him, will Nick survive?
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Fa/ft Mult Consensual Drunk/Drugged Reluctant Romantic Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction Rags To Riches Tear Jerker Sharing BDSM DomSub MaleDom FemaleDom Light Bond Rough Sadistic Spanking Group Sex Harem Polygamy/Polyamory Swinging Anal Sex Masturbation Oral Sex Sex Toys Big Breasts Size Caution Nudism Politics Prostitution Royalty Slow
Monroe stood in her bedroom, staring at a dress she’d hung up against one of the big bay windows that looked out over a hundred miles of green nothing, dotted with herds of cattle all the way to the horizon.
Actually, she wasn’t staring at a dress. She was staring at the dress - the perfect black dress with the deep V neck that dipped almost parallel with the top of the side slits that showed off her long legs so well that she had to wear very specific underwear beneath it if she bothered to wear any at all.
It was the dress she was going to wear to junior prom to win Ryan Remo away from Constance Wheeler once and for all and the same dress her momma had pitched an unholy fit over and confiscated because she knew nothing short of such dictatorial action or clapping her daughter in irons would have kept Monroe out of it once she set her mind to wearing it.
She’d been staring at it on and off all morning and was staring at it again when her twin brother Dietrich came to tell her Nick Coyle had just come through the Green Mountainside Ski Resort’s main gate and everybody was heading down to the ski lodge to meet him. When he saw the dress, he whistled. “Where did you find that? I thought Mama burned it.”
“I found it in my closet this morning,” said Monroe. “And I did not put it there. What do you think that means?”
Dietrich smirked. “I think it means Mama wants you to put your wildness to good use. I heard her tell Daddy he should have delayed the wedding a couple of weeks so we’d be eighteen if he knew Nick Coyle was coming.”
Monroe took the dress down and held it up in front of her. “Age of consent’s sixteen in Montana, Deets.”
“A fact I don’t need reminding of any more than you do, Mun.” Dietrich pointed out. “What is it in New York?”
“It varies,” Monroe hung the dress back up. “If both partners are twenty-one or younger, it’s four years younger than the older partner. After that, it’s seventeen.”
“You know that was a rhetorical question. Right?” Dietrich pointed out. “How the hell do you know that?”
Monroe considered herself one more time in her floor-length mirror. A shirred green bandeau top stopped about three inches above blue denim shorts that themelves ended just above the knee, a long way from the tops of her boots. “What’s the age of consent in Australia?”
“Sixteen or seventeen depending on the state,” said Dietrich. “But, Opal’s living in Iowa these days where it’s sixteen and she’s just as likely to look at you as me.”
“More, I’m prettier.” Monroe turned to go. “But I don’t see myself going down that road to get from Montana to Iowa ... or the Australian Outback for that matter.”
Dietrich fell into step with her. “New York isn’t Hollywood.”
“No, but it could be on the way to Hollywood,” said Monroe. Her brother opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “You know damned well I know my geography as well as you do, Dietrich Alexander Masterson-Stone. Don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean.”
“I was just going to say you’re not prettier.” Dietrich claimed.
Monroe knew better. Like many twins, they could often finish each other’s sentences or just not bother speaking to each other at all. Instead of calling him out, she said, “Well, then - if Nick likes boys, maybe you can get us to New York.”
Dietrich just rolled his eyes even though he’d been known to whale on classmates who had suggested far less about Deets’s sexuality than she just had. When a boy grew up in Montana named after an actress and chanteuse from the golden age of Hollywood, he needed to learn to be fast with his fists - even among the Stones.
“People are weird about eighteen, though,” he pointed out as they headed downstairs.
“Maybe.” Monroe shrugged. Ryan Remo had been nineteen to her sixteen the night of junior prom. It hadn’t stopped him from following her out behind the gym when she crooked a finger - even wearing her second-best dress. “We can still make an impression.”
“I was a little surprised you folks didn’t choose to take a chopper in from Bozeman,” said Brody Masterson-Stone as his Range Rover started to climb the steepest part of Greenside Mountain.
“I didn’t know it was an option,” said Nick. In the hour since leaving the airport, he, Pilar, and Inez had made themselves look presentable and wiped away all visible signs that they’d been asleep most of the way across the country.
“Didn’t know we had helicopters in Montana?” Brody asked. He’d been dropping opportunities for Nick to reveal some East Coast snobbery since picking them up.
“I assume we have them in New York because I’ve seen them. I’ve never been in one,” said Nick. “I’d never been in a plane before today either. I’m trying to limit my new forms of conveyance to one a day right now.”
“We didn’t expect you to pick us up yourself the day before your own son’s wedding,” Pilar added.
“Father of the groom’s only job is to get shooed out of rooms as near as I can tell,” said Brody. “When it’s Monroe’s turn - if it’s ever Monroe’s turn, I’ll get to make a speech and write some checks. Don’t have any daughters if you can help it, Nick.”
“I’ll make a note of that,” said Nick dryly. “If I’d taken a chopper, I wouldn’t have gotten to see things from ground level. My lawyers told me I own a big plot of land out here, but I don’t think I’ll be able to visualize it until I can see it.”
“You’re seeing it now,” said Brody. “If I’d known you were looking, I would have pointed out the property line when we crossed it.”
“Oh, when was that?” Nick asked.
“About two minutes before we got into the first foothill,” said Brody. “All of Greenside Mountain and about ten thousand acres on the other side of it where I graze my cattle are in your half of the original claim.”
“I own a mountain?” Nick asked, thinking the older man was pulling his leg.
“Yup. Mining isn’t my business, but I’m pretty sure it’s still producing a fair amount of copper and a bit of gold plus timber of course,” Brody said like it made some kind of sense for one person to own a mountain. “You’re also landlord to about eight thousand people and five times that many heads of cattle.”
Nick frowned. “Have the Grayson-Stones been good landlords? Somehow I don’t imagine Colin coming out here very often.”
“As far as I know, the last Grayson-Stone moved out of here in 1905 and there hasn’t been another one on the claim until just now,” said Brody. “That’s the kind of landlord we like in Montana.”
“I take it you don’t count Eliza May Stone as a Grayson-Stone, then?” Inez asked.
Brody turned and stared at her in the passenger seat for a few seconds before saying. “We don’t actually. She didn’t have that gypsy look Jespeth’s other children did - no offense, Nick.”
“I’m going to say none taken, but that’s largely because I have no idea what you two are talking about,” said Nick. “What are you talking about, Inez?”
“Using the name Martin Grayson-Stone, the patriarch’s son Csabo first came to the Montana territory in the fall of 1859 in the company of Alison Hamilton, nee Grayson - a woman who may or may not have divorced her husband shortly before leaving San Francisco with Csabo in a bit of a rush,” said Inez. “Either way, her husband was killed in a duel in 1863 and never made any effort to find her as far as we can tell. Csabo and Alison claimed to be husband and wife when they got here and that’s how they’re listed in the family registry. They had one son who survived to adulthood who they named Jespeth of whom both you and cousin Jesse are direct descendants. Csabo wasn’t recognized as one of the patriarch’s children until 1888 when his will was read and he acknowledged some of his bastards. By then Csabo was dead and Jespeth only had a few more years to live.”
She took a breath, but no one interrupted her, so she continued. “Jespeth split his holdings into two large trusts for what he considered to be his two oldest children - his daughter Eliza May by his second wife Martha born in 1866 and his son Jespeth Junior by his first wife Abigail born in 1868. I don’t have those dates backwards by the way. He was married to Abigail when both children were born and neglected to put her aside before he married Martha in 1881 when he was already dying of dysentery. The second marriage was largely seen as a legal fiction and Eliza May believed to be the daughter of one of Jespeth Senior’s followers. The whole thing was probably unenforceable, but the two widows Grayson-Stone were apparently more interested in staying alive in what was still largely a frontier village and their children split the running of the claim, Eliza May nominally through her husband Steven, who she married at the ripe, old age of thirteen by swearing to a judge she was older. Jespeth Junior left for New York in 1895 and died in Europe during World War I but not before fathering your great grandfather Peter.”
“That’s a hell of a memory you got there, Inez,” said Brody. “But, I think you’ve got some of the details wrong. You should talk to Grandma Betsy while you’re here.”
“I hope you’re talking about Elizabeth Lynch-Stone,” Inez sounded excited. “I tried talking to her on the phone a couple of times, but the connection was terrible and she doesn’t use the Internet.”
“You should be honored she used the phone for you,” said Brody. “Most of us have to go up there to talk to her.”
“She’s not actually your grandmother. Is she?” Inez asked. “That would make you...”
“No. We just all call her Grandma Betsy,” said Brody. “She used to be Mother Betsy. I’m sure you know why.”
“I do,” said Inez. “This isn’t the chalet we’re staying in. Is it?”
“This is a the main ski lodge,” said Brody, pulling into a parking space. “Some folk want to meet you before the barbecue and, I figured if I didn’t give them a chance right up front, they’d find a way to pester you while you were trying to get cleaned up and changed for lunch. So, allow me to introduce you to some of our cousins.”
Nick looked out the windshield at the gaggle of young people who stood, lounged, and sat around the ski lodge’s front porch. “Are all these people Stones?”
Brody looked the group over. “A little more than half, looks like. Most people don’t think of the Montana claim as a big family hub, but we’ve got more cousins here than in a lot of the big cities. I can’t even count how many of us live in Montana.”
“Eighty-four by birth, according to the registry,” said Inez. “Right around five percent of the whole family.”
As Nick and the Rodriguez-Stone cousins emerged from the Range Rover, the loose group cohered into a rough receiving line. Curious faces lined up five deep to meet the newcomers, watching and chattering happily to each other.
Nick heard his own name in the chatter and Pilar’s. When Brody introduced the first young couple as Richard and Yael Masterson-Stone, Nick found out why. Richard, blonde, blue-eye, and square-jawed, shook Pilar’s hand first. “Pilar Rodriguez-Stone, you’re quite the celebrity here you know.”
Pilar looked confused. “I am?”
Richard nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Pretty much everyone here has learned from your basic ballroom videos at one time or another.”
At his side, Yael added, “Even now that we have a pair of full-time instructors, a lot of the younger ones start off with your videos.” She patted her clearly-pregnant stomach. “This one’s already started on the quick-step.”
Pilar reached out, then stopped herself. Yael gave a nod and a knowing smile. Pilar touched her stomach. “How far along are you?”
“She probably won’t come before the wedding tomorrow,” said Yael. “But, I wouldn’t mind if she did. No offense to the bride.”
“None taken,” called a blonde woman who’d emerged from the lodge only moments earlier. Brody gestured her forward. “My soon-to-be daughter-in-law, Sarah Parrish.”
Sarah hugged Nick warmly. “Thank you so much for coming out for our wedding. We weren’t expecting you, but we figured we’d send you a shot-in-the-dark invitation once you joined the family. How are you liking Montana?”
“It’s ... gorgeous.” Nick offered.
“You haven’t seen the pretty parts yet,” said Brody. “If Miss Inez wants to meet with Grandma Betsy and lunch doesn’t make you too heavy for the horses, we could ride up there this afternoon.”
“Horses?” Nick raised an eyebrow.
“You ever been on a horse?” Brody asked slyly.
“A few times in Montreal when I was seventeen,” said Nick. “Just summer camp riding, though. Inez? Pilar?”
Inez nodded. “My family owns a lot of property in Mexico where it’s the easiest way to get around.”
“Sorry? What?” Pilar looked up from talking to Yael.
“Have you ever been on horseback?” Inez asked.
“Does the merry-go-round count?” Pilar asked.
“We’ll make sure you get the gentlest one,” said Brody. As Pilar gave a wan smile, he turned back to Sarah. “Where is my no-account son, anyway?”
“Helping with the grills.” Sarah shared an amused smile with her future father-in-law. “Where else would he be?”
“Daniel’s probably there too, I imagine?” Brody asked and got a nod. He turned to Nick. “You’ll get to meet the rest of the family eventually. Daniel’s your great uncle, I believe. Gil and Ray are supposed to be here tomorrow morning. They’re flying in from Florida.”
Nick almost missed the next introductions, a pair of teenaged Grayson-Stone boys who managed to ask if they could come see Nick in New York once they turned eighteen, four and five years later. Nick nodded. “If I’m still there, sure. We’ll find a place for you.”
Brody leaned in close enough to say quietly. “Might want to count how many spare rooms you have before you start saying yes to everybody. Every Stone under thirty will probably be angling for an invite before the wedding’s over, especially my twins.”
“Your twins?” Nick asked.
Brody gestured a pair forward from the porch. Nick couldn’t claim a broad understanding of what made a man attractive, but Dietrich radiated it. He looked like a cross between a cowboy and a Hollywood pretty-boy. He introduced himself to Pilar, telling her she’d taught him how to dance, then Inez. Nick hid his smile, watching them try not to fawn over him.
Then, he got a good look at Dietrich’s twin sister. If he hadn’t spent the last few weeks surrounded by beautiful women, he might have stared longer than the two seconds or so it took for him to remember his manner. Monroe was all long, tan limbs, gentle curves, blonde hair, blue eyes, and white teeth, tall and slender. She took Nick’s hand and kissed him on the cheek. “Delighted to meet you, Nick Coyle.”
“Very nice to meet you, Monroe Masterson-Stone,” Nick shook her hand.
“How are you liking Montana, Nick?” Monroe asked.
“Pretty,” said Nick. “I’m going to see the pretty parts, your father said. I’ve only seen the road from Bozeman so far, but it was very attractive.”
Monroe smiled at him like he didn’t sound like an idiot. “I hear New York’s amazing. I’ve never been.”
“And you’re not going until you’re eighteen,” Brody reminded her. “You’ve still got a couple of weeks.”
Monroe rolled her eyes and gestured towards her father with her head, sharing a moment of amusement with Nick. “I wouldn’t be able to get out there for a couple of weeks anyway.”
“You should definitely see it,” said Nick. “I’ve only lived there since the end of June myself, but I love it.”
“The big party’s on the first, but our real birthday’s on the fourth.” Dietrich offered. “Maybe we could celebrate it in New York.”
“We’re all in Milan that week,” Pilar reminded Nick. “It would probably have to be after that.”
Nick nodded. “Yeah. I think I’ll have some free space by then one way or another. If you do decide to come out, let me know as soon as possible.”
Dietrich and Monroe both looked at Brody, who shrugged and held his hands out. “If you’re offering, I’ll be happy to put these two troublemakers on a plane as soon to be there as soon as your jet lag from Milan wears off. Better than them laying around here until September.”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Nick, not sure how he’d gotten to this point, but not displeased to have arrived there.
‘So, we’re going to New York?” Monroe’s eyes shone as she looked at Brody.
“Sounds like it,” said Brody.
Monroe gave a little whoop of happiness, hugged her father, then jumped to Nick and hugged him fiercely. “Thank you! This is going to be so much fun!”
Dietrich shook Nick’s hand while Monroe was still hugging him, then turned to Pilar. “Do you still teach dance?”
“Not professionally, but I’ve been teaching Nick and some of his friends,” said Pilar. “You two could join us.”
“I’d like that.” Dietrich shook Pilar’s hand as he had Nick’s.
After that was a blur of introductions. After a few, Nick started to notice a pattern. For the most part, the blonde, tan ones with lighter were Masterson-Stones. The ones who looked more like Nick with dark hair and eyes were Grayson-Stones. But, there were many exceptions. Of the forty people he met, a half dozen were Stones by marriage and didn’t fit the pattern at all. Some were just named Stone and showed a mixture of features. Two sisters in their early twenties with exotic features Nick couldn’t readily identify were introduced by the improbable names Renee and Alys Connelly-Ito-Grayson-Stone. By the end of the introductions, Nick had about a million questions to ask Inez, but decided to save most of them, maybe for the flight home.
Still, once the introductions were done and the three guests from New York directed to the chalet with their rooms, he did have to ask his cousin, “Inez, are all the Stones this pretty?”
They were in the chalet’s main room, a wide, airy room that extended up two stories to big, glass skylights that filled the room with light. Inez sat on one of the big, overstuffed couches facing the empty fireplace. “Most questions that start with ‘are all the Stones,’ can be answered ‘no.’ There are exceptions to everything. But, in general, our cousins are a very attractive lot. Any characteristic you breed for through seven or eight generations will generally become dominant.”
“The Stones breed for attractiveness?” Nick sat on another couch, half facing her. He was surprised, but not shocked.
“Not specifically,” said Inez. “But the first patriarch had two eyes and then some for beautiful women and the way he structured the Stone Trust encouraged his sons to seek out extraordinary, charming women who could be active participants in the family business throughout the nineteenth and twentieth centuries when most women really weren’t allowed to do that. In some ways, we got our pick of the best and brightest.”
“How did he encourage that?” Nick asked.
“Dancing,” Pilar flopped down next to Nick. Inez and Nick both looked at her. “I usually don’t know the answers to family trivia, but I know this one. William Stone, first patriarch of the Stone Family, believed that women were a civilizing influence on business. He frequently invited men who wanted to do business with him to parties at his house in San Francisco and directed them to pitch their business to his wife or one of his daughters. Right?”
“Largely,” said Inez. “The story gets distorted in the telling and the official version sands off a lot of the rough edges, but the first patriarch was notorious for being surrounded by beautiful women as early as the 1850s when San Francisco was still largely a gold rush town. Some of the men he did business with might not have spoken to a woman outside of a bar or brothel in months. However it started, by the 1870s, he would tell people he only did business with men who could get through one of his women and it was mostly true.”
“When he set up the Trust, a big part of it was to provide free education to his descendants. William believed there were seven fields of study his family would benefit from and dance was one of them,” said Pilar.
“Ever since then, the Stones have had a tradition of doing business on the dance floor,” said Pilar. “After my quincenera, when I wanted to start networking but didn’t know many people, I studied dance until I was good enough that they came to me for lessons.”
“It seems like your fame made it to Montana,” said Nick. “A couple of our cousins looked like they wanted to dance with you before we even had time to unpack.”
“I hope you won’t be terribly jealous if I dance with a few of them at the reception,” said Pilar.
Nick gave a snort of laughter. Considering what he’d been up to in the last twenty-four hours, the question seemed funny. “I’m a Stone now. I don’t think I’m allowed to be jealous anymore.”
“Ha!” Inez spoke the syllable, not exactly laughing. “Stones have no special immunity to jealousy. Believe me. The family history is full of feuds, divorces ... even a couple of murders over who slept with whom.”
“And it would be rather ungracious of me to let you fly me out here as your dance partner, then dance everyone but with you,” said Pilar.
Dancing with Pilar wasn’t really in the forefront of Nick’s mind on this trip even if it had been the original impetus for inviting her. “I’ve been looking forward to spending the weekend with you, Pilar. But, I’m not about to stand in your way if you think you met your future husband out there today.”
It was Pilar’s turn to laugh. “I don’t even want to think about getting married right now. I just want to have a good time this weekend. Would it be too selfish of me to want to monopolize your nights while we’re here?”
Nick frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Since you invited me, I’ve been looking forward to spending some time with you this weekend. “ said Pilar. “I didn’t think too hard about how many options you would have once we got here. Now that we’ve met the Montana cousins, I thought you might want to reconsider our sleeping arrangements. We don’t really have any sort of existing relationship to consider.”
“Are you asking because you’re having second thoughts?” Nick asked. When Pilar answered that she wasn’t, he smiled. “Then I don’t want to reconsider anything. I know you enough to like you and I’ve also been very much looking forward to being with you.”
Pilar kissed him and Nick relaxed into it, kissing her back. A sort rustle of cloth was the only sign that Inez had tactfully left the room. Beyond that, Nick allowed himself to forget about everything but the beautiful woman in his arms and the feel of her mouth on his.
It was Pilar who finally broke away. “We should probably go get ready for lunch. They’ll be looking for us soon.”
Nick made a sound that might have been agreement and might have been protest. He’d known for most of a week that he and Pilar would probably end up here. With so much going on at home, he’d held back on pursuing anything with her. Their first kiss had been on the tarmac at Stewart earlier that day. Now that they’d started, he found himself eager to take things to their conclusion. Still, he nodded his agreement and rose, pulling Pilar up from the couch behind him and into his arms for one more quick kiss. “I suppose it would be bad manners to skip lunch.”
“Since they’re throwing it in your honor, it would be extremely bad manners.” Pilar laughed. “Maybe we could skip the horseback riding afterwards.”
Nick was torn and Pilar must have seen that. Before he could agree, she kissed him again. “All right. You’re right. Let’s see the beauty of Montana while we’re here. But, if I’m going horseback riding, I expect a massage before you get to see the beauty of Pilar in all its glory.”
Nick laughed. “We could combine the two.”
“We could,” Pilar gave him a sultry smile. “But, I might like a pro who won’t get distracted halfway through if I’m going to be dancing all day tomorrow. No offense.”
“Offense? I’m flattered you think I have the self-control to get to halfway.” Nick stepped back from her. “It’s probably just as well that I don’t know exactly when lunch is supposed to start. I might try to convince you to come visit my room with me.”
“And I might let myself be convinced.” Pilar smiled and drew back from his arms. “But, I do want to get ready. I’m still dressed for flying, not for barbecue and I’d like to grab a quick shower.”
Nick let her go. He was still getting used to how the women he’d surrounded himself with approached the question of romance, but he suspected he might like it more than the version he’d grown up hearing about. You lost a lot of the thrill of uncertainty, but you also did away with uncertainty’s less pleasant aspects as well.
Unlike Pilar, his flying outfit was also his barbecue outfit and he didn’t particularly want to take a shower then change back into the same clothes again. He explored the chalet, which seemed a lot like a small hotel, but decorated for the comfort of people who skied high up in the mountains. Rustic wood and what was probably faux fur sat side-by-side with modern technology. His room and the lounge both had big-screen TVs. There was a fully modern business center tucked in the back. In a half dozen places, little wooden signs were posted with the wifi ID and password burned into them. Eventually, he found his way upstairs to a wide deck looking down into the lush, green valley Brody had driven them through. Somewhere, presumably within his view was an imaginary line demarking where his property ended and someone else’s began, maybe Jesse’s.
Thinking about Jesse had him bringing out his phone. He called Tanvi, who answered on the first ring. Once she’d greeted him, he asked how things were going.
“Your poker table has arrived,” said Tanvi. “Max is overseeing its assembly in the game room. Other than that, things have been reasonably quiet.”
“Good.” Nick was pleased. He’d ordered the pool table and the poker table the first day he’d decided to move into the loft, but for some reason, one had come much more slowly than the other. “Do I have you to thank for that?”
“Only if I’m a good luck charm,” said Tanvi. “You said you had no pressing matters outstanding, so I’ve been focused on reviewing your holdings over the last couple of days.”
“It wasn’t pressing, but I’m glad it finally showed up,” said Nick. “As it turns out, I do have a somewhat pressing matter I’d like you to look into. Are you familiar with a security company called Gibraltar?”
“Yes. SSCS and Gibraltar each own shares in the other. I’ve worked with them extensively. Would you like me to discuss security for the loft with them?” Tanvi asked.
“Yes. And, maybe a general survey of my real estate holdings. I’ve just been using whatever security Black and Stringer had when the properties were mothballed,” said Nick. “Do you think you can get them watching the loft today?”
“I can,” said Tanvi. “Is there a specific situation I should be aware of?”
“Probably not, but tell them to pay special attention to the fire escapes,” said Nick. “My cousin Jesse broke in this morning to talk to me before I left for Montana.”
“Would you like me to follow up with the police?” Tanvi asked.
“No,” said Nick immediately. Then, he reconsidered. Jesse had broken in and at Threnody’s request. It might send a message to his mysterious Italian cousin that he wasn’t to be trifled with if he sicced the cops on Jesse. But, he reconsidered again and said. “No. Let’s just chalk it up to an extraordinarily effective sales call on behalf of Gibraltar this time.”
“Is there anything else I can do, then?” Tanvi asked.
“Maybe start looking at available real estate in the area,” said Nick. “If I keep inviting people to come visit at the current rate, I’m going to run out of places to put them.”
“Have you considered using the building on Jay Street in Vinegar Hill?” Tanvi asked.
“I would have if I had any idea what that was,” said Nick.
“You own a building on Jay Street in Vinegar Hill, not far from Brooklyn Bridge Park. I think it’s close to one of the subway lines that lets out right by the loft,” said Tanvi. “I can double check. But, it’s a big multi-story building near the waterfront, zoned for residential and commercial use. The trust has owned it since 1986.”
“Is it occupied?” Nick asked.
“No. I think the trustees must have bought it as an investment property before Colin took control of the trust, but nobody’s done anything with it since then. It has appreciated considerably in value in the last few years, though.” Tanvi typed something on a keyboard. “I could go out and look at it some time this weekend if you like, but it looks pretty liveable from what you have on file.”
“It can wait until Monday. You don’t have to work on the weekend,” said Nick.
“I don’t mind,” said Tanvi. “I need to start learning my way around New York and it’s apparently near a park. It’ll be nice to explore. And I guess I should mention that I’ve been living out of one of your guest rooms since yesterday. Nadia gave me the keys to manage and I took advantage. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. Is any of the other staff living on-site right now?” Nick asked, amused.
“No. I’m the only one who didn’t start out living in New York,” said Tanvi. “I thought I might crash here while I look for an apartment as long as you have space. Feel free to kick me out if you need the space.”
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