Fallen Elements by Heather McVea Page A

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“Please have the sixty thousand dollars withdrawn.”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