Page 31 of All In

“I trust your character,” I say, and I mean it, even now, even with the strange cold feeling that’s been sitting in my chest since Eric said the words net worth like they meant something. “I don’t know what you’re about to tell me. But I know who you’ve been with me for two days, and that hasn’t given me any reason to be afraid of you. Annoyed, maybe, but not afraid.”

That seems to loosen something in his shoulders. He steps inside, and I close the door behind him. I return to my bed and sit on the comforter and he stands by the desk.

“Okay,” I say, when he doesn’t immediately start. “I’m ready. Lay it on me.”

He exhales. Paces a bit, then stops.

“The truth is,” he says, “I’m rich.”

I wait for the rest of it.

“Like—obnoxiously rich,” he continues. “My family owns a good chunk of land out near Saddle Creek, as well as more land in West Texas. Cattle, like I told you. But there’s also mineral rights under a lot of that land, and we get oil money on top of the ranching income, and it’s—it’s a lot. It’s been a lot for the last couple generations. And then I made my own money on top of that with the company. So it’s not even just family money I’m sitting on. I built something separately, and that did well too. Very well.”

He stops. Looks at me like he’s braced for something.

I keep waiting.

“And?” I say.

“And?” He frowns. “There’s no and, that’s it.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. I have a lot of wealth, and I don’t lead with it.”

I stare at him for a second, running back through the conversation, certain I’m missing something, because that cannot possibly be the entire weight of what’s been sitting behind his eyes for the last hour.

“Of course you don’t lead with it,” I say slowly. “That’s a reasonable thing to not lead with. Leading with the size of your wallet is basically an open invitation for people who want to poach off your good fortune.” I lean forward, pat the empty part of the mattress in front of me.

He comes and sits, but it’s really just kind of a half-sit/half-lean thing. As if he’s not really committed to sitting on my bed.

“Leo. What’s the actual secret? Is your family secretly running a drug cartel? Is there something horrifying happening with the cattle? Are you, like, structurally inhumane to your cows in a way that would ruin this for me?”

“What? No.” He looks almost offended on behalf of his cattle. “Of course not. None of that. There’s no additional secret hiding behind the first one. I just—have a lot of money. That’s the whole thing.”

“Forbes-list money.”

He nods. “Forbes-list money.”

“Got it.” I sit back, processing this, turning it over, waiting for the part of me that should apparently be reeling right now to actually show up and reel. It doesn’t. Mostly what I feel is mild confusion. “Okay. So why does that feel like it’s been eating you alive since this afternoon?”

“You mean since Eric’s big reveal?”

“He is like an actual super hero villain. But like one of the really bad ones.”

His lips quirk a little. He’s quiet for a second, looking down at his laced fingers.

“Because telling people changes things,” he says finally. “Every single time. I’ve watched it happen my whole life. The second someone finds out, there’s this recalibration. Sometimes it’s small. Sometimes it’s everything. People start being nicer in a way that doesn’t feel like niceness anymore. Or they get weird and defensive about not wanting anything from me, which is its own kind of exhausting. Or they’re weirdly judgmental as if money provides any of the skill or success I possess and my own efforts and work ethic mean nothing. Or—” he stops.

“Or?”

“Or they were never that interested in the first place, and the money becomes the actual reason they stick around. Sometimes you don’t find that part out until you’re already in too deep to walk away cleanly.”

Something in his voice on that last part makes my chest ache.

“You can tell me,” I say quietly.

He looks up at me, and whatever he sees in my face must convince him, because he starts talking, and once he starts, it comes out steadier than I expect.