The Bookish Life of Nina Hill(34)

Nina laughed, getting up, too, and dusting herself off. She seemed to have acquired a pretty thick layer of dog fur, lying on the floor. Oh well, it was a chilly night.

“Besides,” added Lili, walking her to the door, “weddings are great places to meet people.”

Then she and Clare stood at the door and waved good-bye to Nina.





Eleven




In which Nina meets more family, and wishes she hadn’t.

The next morning, Nina got a text message: Danger, Will Robinson. Expect call from Sarky. See you later. It was from Peter Reynolds, and it made her frown. She was having her morning planner time when the text came in, and she looked over her day carefully. Was there space for a legal assault? Not really. And if there wasn’t space, it wasn’t going to happen. A schedule was a schedule, people, and without a proper schedule, the day would descend into madness, anarchy, dogs and cats living together, etc. The Ghostbusters reference reminded her of another Bill Murray movie, Stripes, where he begs his girlfriend not to leave, because “all the plants are gonna die.” She grinned and flipped ahead to schedule a Bill Murray movie marathon. See? Even in the most organized life there is room for whimsy. It just needs scheduling. As her heroine Monica Geller would say, Rules help control the fun.

The call from Sarkassian came in a few minutes after the store opened, which was considerate at least. The lawyer sounded somewhat apologetic.

“I’m afraid to say your niece, Lydia, has raised the specter of legal action against you. She’s asked for a face-to-face meeting at our offices today. Would you consider attending?” He did sound like he was asking, rather than ordering, so Nina considered it.

“Legal action for what?”

Sarkassian coughed. “Fraud. She thinks maybe you’re not actually a Reynolds.”

Nina laughed. “And did you tell her that I don’t care at all about being a Reynolds, and in fact would have been totally fine never knowing who my father was?”

“Yes, but there is the matter of the will.”

“Cut me out of it, then. I really don’t care.”

Sarkassian sounded horrified. “You can’t simply cut someone out of someone else’s will. Besides, it might be a great deal of money.”

“Or it might be a giant inflatable middle finger. Let me be completely clear: I. Don’t. Care. My life is fine as it is. I don’t need any complications.”

There was a moment’s silence. Then, “Well, I know that, and you know that, but perhaps you could tell Lydia that in person? Please, Ms. Hill, it would be enormously helpful if you could attend the meeting. The rest of your immediate family will be there.”

So that was why Peter had given her the heads-up. He already knew about the meeting.

“I’ll see you later.”

“Thank you.” The lawyer did sound relieved, and Nina wondered what he was scared of. “My assistant will contact you with details.”

Dammit. Now she was going to have to change her planner. Nina hated changing her planner.

The lawyer’s office was in a glintingly tall glass and granite building on the corner of Wilshire and Crescent Heights. While not exactly forbidding and Borg-like, it was dark enough that should a battalion of Stormtroopers have emerged from the parking lot, Nina wouldn’t have been surprised. Well, she would have been surprised by the Stormtroopers per se, obviously, but it would have made sense they were coming from that building. The point is, the lawyer’s building was intimidating and Nina was intimidated.

While the firm didn’t have their name on the outside of the building, a quick glance at the lobby directory showed they had three floors all to themselves, which meant this was no Podunk operation, no, sir. The receptionist was clearly on top of her game, because when Nina walked up to her, she rose and said, “Right this way, Ms. Hill.”

“How did you know who I was?” Nina asked. She should have shrugged it off, but she was rattled; see earlier comment re: Stormtroopers.

The receptionist smiled at her as they headed down a long and plushly carpeted corridor. “I have a list of people attending your meeting, which is the only one involving clients right now, and I signed everyone else in already.”

“Oh,” Nina said. “So, professionalism and logic.”

The woman nodded.

“Well played, madam,” Nina said, and then wished her head had exploded instead. Why did she say these things? Why did her mouth open and this stuff come out? AIs like Siri and Alexa sounded more relaxed and human than she did.

The woman opened a door, but as the sound of many conversations rolled out, Nina hesitated.

“I think there might be a mistake. Mr. Sarkassian said it was immediate family only.” The room was filled with people. Enough food had been laid out on a deep shelf on one end of the room to feed a football team. After the game.

The receptionist shook her head. “No mistake. This is the immediate family.” She moved her head slightly to indicate Nina should go in because she was holding the door and it was heavy, so Nina stepped into the room.

Nina had always been comfortable with the fact that she was not gregarious. Not every interaction needed to be a party, right? Her Room 101, for those Orwell fans among you, would simply contain a couple of people whose names she couldn’t remember. Walking into a room full of strangers was about as comfortable for her as putting on a hat full of wasps and tugging it down firmly. But in she went.