One Wish (Thunder Point #7)(83)

“Can this be confidential?” he asked.

“Of course!”

“It’s about Grace. We’ve gotten pretty close.”

Iris smiled. “You two seem great together.”

“You know we’re not alike, right?”

She made a doubtful face. “You seem a lot alike. You laugh at the same things, you appear to be inseparable, she’s an athlete and you’re a pretty physical guy. I bet you finally found someone to play with.”

“But we come from completely different backgrounds. Completely. Did you know Grace is—” He struggled. “She’s well-to-do.”

Iris leaned back. “I heard that. I mean, she told me. It was pretty recently, when she was telling me about growing up on the ice-skating circuit. She said she had tutors and traveled the world to compete and I asked how expensive things like skating lessons were. Lessons for kids can be as much as ninety dollars an hour but coaching for world champions? It can be any amount, depending on the coach, maybe four hundred a day! Plus expenses. So I asked...”

“Her mother is rich,” he said. “Old money. Apparently there’s a difference,” he added.

“She didn’t make it on a dot-com,” Iris said with a grin. “I assume there’s enough so that it keeps growing itself. Not only was Grace born into it, apparently her mother was, as was her grandmother.”

“It might be billions,” Troy said.

“Billions? Come on!”

“I don’t know. How would I know? But here’s what I know after spending a few days at her childhood home. The house is bigger than four normal houses, and it takes a full staff to run it so just one person can live in it. There’s a full-time driver, even if he’s not driving much. I think her mother might have other houses—she likes to spend time in Cabo, in New York, in London. There’s art and jewelry and her mother can rent private jets anytime she wants to. I mean, she stinks with it. I’m serious.”

“Wow. Incredible. Sounds like the Gettys. You should look and see if they’re on the Forbes List.”

“I’m afraid to,” Troy said.

“Why?” she asked with a laugh. “She’ll still be your friend.”

“Iris, we’ve been more than friends. And I can’t relate to that kind of money.”

“Just as well,” she said, laughing. “It’s not yours. It’s hers.”

“Iris, could you please stop laughing. It makes me feel like a poor relation with his hand out.”

“You have your hand out?”

“Of course not! But that’s how I feel! Do you know anyone that rich?”

“I’m not sure,” she said. “Peyton comes from a pretty rich family.”

“She does?” he asked, shocked.

“Uh-huh. Her parents own one of the biggest farms in Oregon. Huge. They grow pears for Harry & David, potatoes for grocers, have a ton of sheep for the wool and now she says her father and brothers are into Christmas trees. Scott says it’s a huge family, almost all of them in the business, and her father has holes in his jeans and drives an old pickup with no shocks. He probably doesn’t have a twenty in his pocket, but his net worth is astronomical.”

“I didn’t know that,” he said. “Do they live in a big house?”

“Yes. With one bathroom. Eight kids, one bathroom. Try to imagine.”

“Okay, we’re not talking about the same thing at all. Grace has money to burn. I think if she started spending it now she couldn’t go through it all. Unfortunately for her mother, it’s in Grace’s near future.”

Iris sat back in her chair and chewed on her pen. “Troy, what about this is a problem?”

He shrugged and looked down.

“Spit it out before I start guessing.”

“I don’t feel good enough.”

“Ridiculous,” she scoffed. “Your individual incomes have nothing at all to do with your worth. After all, Grace didn’t earn hers, did she? She was born to it—that’s nothing but luck. You should start playing the lottery, maybe you’ll get lucky.”

“Tell me how to get past this,” he said. “My brain is telling me it makes no sense to feel this way and I don’t know why I can’t shake it. I’m a smart person. I don’t discriminate against anyone. What the hell is this?”

“I think it’s testosterone,” she said. “Really!” she said, her tone indicating some disgust.

“Where’d you come up with that?”

“It sounds like just another version of ‘let’s get ’em out and measure ’em, boys.’ Men have this competitive thing, this need for mastery. You have a hard time if you think you’re not in control, especially in control of your woman. Something about Grace’s family money makes you feel vulnerable and awkward. And yet the girl lives in a tiny loft! She drives a flower delivery van!”

“I’ve never been like that,” he said. “I’ve never been controlling toward women. If you knew my mother or sister, you wouldn’t even suggest that.”

“Then what is it?” she asked.

“I don’t know. It’s just...I wonder what I could ever get her if she has everything. What can I do for her if she can pick up the phone and hire it done?”