Nicole Richie - Priceless

Charlotte turned it off. Somewhere in the apartment, her phone was ringing. Then the house phone started. Her phone stopped, then started again. Charlotte realized there was no one in the world she wanted to talk to. No one except her dad, and he wasn’t taking calls right now. Unless it was him calling? She leaped up but didn’t make it in time. Standing there, she hit the play button on the answering machine.

Many of the messages were people yelling, which made her wonder how they’d gotten the number, but then she realized that they were her dad’s investors, and he’d presumably given out the number himself. Note to self: Change the number.

Suddenly, a friendly voice came out of the machine, making her gasp.

“Miss Charlotte, it’s Miss Millie here. I saw the news about your daddy, and I just wanted to remind you that God loves you, and so do I, and that you’re special and good, and whatever happens, you need to remember that, do ya hear? I think of y’all all the time and pray for you every night. Give my love to Miss Greta and Davis and, of course, to your lovely self. Come to New Orleans if you need to. We’ll be here! ‘Bye now.”

Other messages weren’t so nice.

“Charlotte, this is Michael Marshall.” Her dad’s partner had surfaced at last. Charlotte went to pick up the phone, forgetting for the moment that it was just a message. Marshall had paused, but then he continued. “I … uh … I’ll try you again later.” Click.

She called him back.

“Michael, it’s Charlotte. Are you all right?” He sighed.

It was a funny thing. When Michael Marshall had joined her father’s firm, it looked as if his daughter, Becky, and she were going to be friends. They were the same age, went to similar schools, had similar hobbies. For the first few months, the two families hung out together quite a bit: dinners here and there, a trip to the beach. And then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. Becky didn’t return her calls, ignored her texts, unfriended her online. She’d been upset and tried for a while to get her to explain what had happened. Eventually, she’d given up. Now she had the sinking feeling she knew what had happened. Maybe.

“I’m fine, Charlotte. How are you? Were you able to see your dad?”

“Yes. He’s pretty confused, I think. Did they question you, too?”

There was a long pause. “Charlotte, I have to tell you something.” He sounded very old, and almost close to tears. “Your father was very good to me, and in many ways, he’s one of the most honorable men I’ve ever known. But he was breaking the law, Charlotte, and I knew it. For a while, I kept quiet, hoping it would stop or blow over or change in some way so I could leave with my conscience intact. But it didn’t. And I couldn’t look my own children in the eyes anymore, because I was involved.”

Charlotte’s blood grew cold. “So you turned on him to protect yourself?” Her voice was soft.

“They were catching on to us, anyway, Charlotte, I could see it was just a matter of time.”

“So you threw him to the wolves and presumably cut some kind of deal. That’s nice, Michael. Loyal. My father would be impressed.”

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