Free Take Two: An Erotic Romance (Book 1) by Maddie Bennett Page B

piece of paper peeping out of the book. I drew it out, and read
what was written in Uncle Andy’s writing: follow your dreams, Amanda –
dreams are what make us alive. Uncle Andy.
     
    I smiled fondly as I recalled his dry, pleasant voice telling me
exactly the same thing almost every time we parted. He had always believed
strongly that everyone should have a dream and pursue it with all their heart
and soul, just as he had. He had built himself up as a successful hedge fund
manager from a modest background, believing in himself and his ability to be
someone.
     
    I looked back down at the book. Somewhere, almost lost in the
sands of time, it had been my dream to be a writer like Jack London. I loved
this book so passionately, was so inspired by it, that every time I turned its
pages it felt like I was reading it for the first time. It was the first book
which had made me think that one day I would like to be a writer.
     
    Where had that dream gone? As I looked down at the book, I
recalled how strongly I had wanted to write, to let my feelings and emotions
pour out onto page after page of creamy white paper. I had dreamed of sitting
outside with an empty journal and a fountain pen, creating masterpieces as
other people worked away indoors, processing meaningless data and dealing with
belligerent colleagues and aggressive customers. I would be free to let my own
creativity flow, crafting my own worlds and writing as the mood took me.
     
    Looking at my partly-finished excel spreadsheet, I smiled bitterly
to myself. Follow my dreams? I couldn’t imagine anything farther from what I
had imagined back in my youth. But that was reality for you. Uncle Andy may
have succeeded, but for most people, the things they dream about as children
and teenagers are just that – dreams.
     
    Putting the book and the letter into my desk drawer and throwing
the wrapping paper into the bin, I pulled in my chair, took a deep breath, and
began tapping away at my keyboard again.

Chapter 2
     
    I was sitting in what was certainly the most opulent office I had
ever set foot in. The conference table had feet – actual feet – made out of
some kind of very shiny wood, probably carved by blind Tibetan monks or
something. A circle of plushy armchairs which looked too heavy to even move
were arranged around the table, full of well-dressed people who obviously
changed their outfit twice a day and spent their lunch breaks ironing their
ties. I was sitting like a schoolgirl, my hands in the lap of my grey suit
pants – which I now realized were speckled with lint – and trying to
concentrate on the will which was being read in pompous tones more suitable for
a coronation than a will reading:
     
    “Lastly,” Mr. Williams, head of the law firm intoned, “Miss Amanda
Taylor, great niece of the deceased, Mr. Andrew Scott, is bequeathed the
extensive hedge fund investments of Mr. Andrew Scott, namely Mr. Andrew Scott’s
investments in Dillinger Inc., Mr. Scott’s investments in Coraopolis Inc., Mr.
Scott’s investments in…”
     
    “Wait,” I interrupted, earning myself affronted looks from a few
of the tie-ironing suits. “Uncle Andy left me his investments?”
     
    “If you would let me read from the document,” Mr. Williams said,
“you will be equipped with a full list of the assets bequeathed to you by Mr.
Scott.”
     
    “But – the Dillinger investments? That’s a global company! Those
alone must be worth almost a million dollars!”
     
    “Correct, Miss Taylor. Now: if you would let me continue. Ahem.
Mr. Scott’s investments in…”
     
    But I wasn’t paying attention as he continued to read a list of
investments which now belonged to me. I already knew the only thing I needed to
know: Uncle Andy had left me his lifetime of achievement – and millions of
dollars’ worth of investments to boot.
     
    I was only eleven years old the first time he let me sit in the
corner of his office with my book while he was making