“I am already sitting. Tell me what happened.”
“I am getting married tomorrow,” he shouted with pure enthusiasm. “I am marrying Natalia at the Grand Liberty Country Club in Manhattan. It will be the biggest event of the year.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Tomorrow? Preston, weddings take months to prepare. Why the rush?”
“We love each other. That is all that matters,” he replied impatiently. “Important partners from my law firm will attend, old college friends, people with real influence. It will be spectacular.”
I wanted to congratulate him even though something inside my chest felt wrong. Yet before I could speak he continued in a tone that suddenly felt colder.
“Oh, and there is a small detail I already handled.”
“What detail?”
“I transferred all the money from your bank accounts to mine. I left you two hundred dollars for a taxi in case you want to come to the wedding.”
The room became silent. I felt as if the air had been removed from my lungs.
“Preston,” I whispered slowly, “that is theft.”
He laughed. “Relax. Think of it as an advance on my inheritance. You have lived your life already. The money was just sitting there.”
Then he added something worse.