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the yellowed sheet of paper and allowed himself the luxury of a full and hearty laugh. "Now, Mr. Shurley, stand back and watch me. What you're going to see is a man with a lot of money take this stupid piece of paper to court and have Teddy boy's codicil overturned. There ain't a man alive or dead that can tell me what I can and can't do with my own money." |
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Shurley studied the scrawled signature and smiled. "As you wish, Mr. Frazier. As they love to say, it's a free country. But I have to ask . . . you don't really believe that one either, do you?" |
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Charlie was equal to the challenge. "Tell me, Mr. Shurley, in round numbers, what am I now worth?" |
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The sober-faced lawyer cocked his head to one side. "Only an updated audit could pin down the exact number, Mr. Frazier, but I'd say that your net worth is somewhere in the neighborhood of between one point six and one point seven billion." |
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Charlie sagged back in his chair, smiling. "That's a very exclusive neighborhood. Can I tell you I'm already becoming accustomed to living there?" Then he leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table. His brain was spinning. The lawyer's casual estimate of a sum of money so large had sent his thoughts |
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