The Living Room Read Online Free PDF

seemed puzzled with the mention of anything being passed down so many years later.
    “Did you know I had an uncle? Apparently, he lived in England, but I don’t know anything else about him. Did Mom or Dad have a brother I didn’t know about?”
    “Well, if they did, I never met him either. Linda might know; I’ll call and ask.”
    “Well, at this point, I’m not sure it matters. I guess the poor guy passed on, apparently alone, and left his house to my parents—well, their executor now.”
    He obviously didn’t have to explain to Art how the legal path had served an inheritance down to him.
    “Anyway, I’m going to head over there and take a look. Change of scenery, you know.”
    Art recognized that this was going to be tough for the younger man, no matter how cool he played it. Eight years had gone by without his ever witnessing Daniel plan a holiday. That was a long time for anyone. The time was accessible; he undoubtedly had the financial resources to go anywhere he wanted. He just never elected to escape. Art annually had to kick him out of the building around the holidays and, every Christmas Eve after dinner, lectured him about not returning to the office until
after
the New Year had commenced.
    “How long will you be gone?” he asked sounding more parental than professional.
    “A couple of weeks, if it’s okay. Of course, I’ll have my phone and computer—”
    Art cut him off sternly. “Don’t you dare bring that
crap
.”
    This was the closest thing to a curse word in Art’s current vocabulary. Daniel often wondered where he came up with some of his other, more common expressions, such as calling people “Wally Birds” when he was annoyed with them, or making his classic reference to “lollygagger” when waiting impatiently for someone’s report.
    He knew Art had more within him, though; you didn’t grow up in the streets of Brooklyn without developing a strong arsenal of expletives. Linda, on the other hand, was raised on a Montana acreage in a wealthy Christian family. Years of her compassionate correction had helped reshape Art’s terminology.
    “We can hold our own without you for a couple of weeks. You just work on yourself. I’ll handle your accounts personally.”
    Knowing that time away from work wasn’t going to be an issue, he had no need to reassure his clients during his absence. Art was his mentor and rarely handled any accounts directly anymore. There was no one better in the building.
    “Fine, then. I’ll just bring my music and my water,” he retorted, shaking a half-empty bottle on his desk.
    Art smiled at the bottle. “It appears to be half-full again.” With that, Art stood and walked out proudly.
    “Nancy, can I see you for a minute please? I need to go over a few things. And can you call the travel agent for me? I need to book a flight to England.”
    Somewhat shocked, Nancy gathered her notepad and pen and then headed into his office for dictation. Work wouldn’t normally call him to destinations that far away. It almost hurt her to suppress a smile, but she didn’t want him to see it and misunderstand the reason behind it. She wasn’t happy that he was going somewhere and that she wouldn’t see him every day—she was just delighted that he was going, for any reason other than work.
    Daniel spent the rest of the day making shotgun travel plans and notifying his clients of their interim contact. He made a quick call to Martin Stines, confirming his ownership of the new asset in order to avoid any trespassing issues. The house did belong to him, now that signatures had finally been given to satisfy the legal formalities.
    Martin provided the address and basic driving instructions that he had received with the file. He first recommended a stop in the nearest town of Canterbury for more specific directions. As the whereabouts of any house keys were unknown, a locksmith would also be required.
    Nancy, helpful as always, provided the flight details, driving