“Mr. Jones?” The executives froze, dropping the gift baskets they were holding. “But you’re supposed to be Mr. Jones!”
I crossed my arms and smiled. “A51 is just one of the smallest, most unremarkable projects in my family’s portfolio. Every time my dad sends someone over to deliver documents or sign paperwork, it’s always the butler, Tim Jones.”
Feigning surprise, I added, “What? Don’t tell me you all thought he was the actual Mr. Jones?”
“Your dad?” Joel recoiled as if he’d been struck by lightning.
He let
go of Esther’s hand and hurried over to me. “Shirley… how can he be Mr. Jones? And how is your dad him?”
O
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Joel, I told before, I took my mom’s last name. I was actually planning to come clean after New Year’s and bring you home for the holidays. But… too bad, you missed your chance.”
Esther staggered, nearly falling off the bed as she whispered weakly, “Dad… how can this be happening?”
At that moment, Tim roughly yanked her off the bed, barking, “You kneel too!”
“Mr. Jones has funded you for years. You need to show your gratitude to him!”
Esther frantically shook her head, screaming, “You’ve got to be kidding! All these years? The mansion I’ve been living in? The luxury cars I’ve been riding in? They can’t be fake! It’s all real, right?”
Tim’s voice trembled as he confessed, “It’s… all Mr. Jones’s…”
My dad frowned in confusion. “I don’t remember giving you any of those things.”
Esther opened her mouth, about to say something, but Tim grabbed her arm. I couldn’t help but think how strange she was acting, like she genuinely believed she was the real heiress. Tim’s gaze darted nervously. “We… snuck into the house. Mr. Jones has many properties. It’s only normal that he forgot about one.”
