As much as he had a sincere faith in Nick and Abigail and their love, he had an even deeper faith in the details of corporate law. He had his lawyers working on a sort of post-nuptial agreement, one that he hoped he could get Nick to sign. There was nothing he could do about the trust fund…it was too late for that. Damn his father and his stupid male chauvinist attitude! Nick would get half of that as long as he stayed with her for at least five years. But the stock in the company was a whole different matter…and the fact that Abigail was sole heir to not only her father’s and mother’s estates, but her Aunt Penelope’s as well…unless his scatterbrained sister had changed her will and left everything to some crazy cause like homeless cats, thought John
He tried to bring the matter up at dinner. He decided, in advance, that he was going to drop the conversation as soon as Abigail started taking offense. He would come back to it later, if he must…as he must, it had to be dealt with…but he wasn’t going to ruin the homecoming.
Sharon demanded details of the wedding. Abby provided them and showed the pictures. John stared at the picture of his baby in a wedding dress gazing adoringly at her new husband. He stared at it for a long moment before he nodded and passed it back. “Beautiful,” he said, with a catch in his voice.
“Perfect,” said Sharon under her breath. Then she looked up. “The dress is perfect,” she said. “It’s plain enough that Abigail can wear it to the wedding reception and it won’t look out of place. Nick can wear that suit too, although…” she peered at the photo, “…is that the same one he wore to the engagement party?”
Abby exchanged a look with her father. “Yes, Mother, it is. But I think that’s okay, don’t you?”
“Of course,” said Sharon, waving her hand through the air. “No one looks at the groom anyway!”
Abby laughed out loud. “Everyone looks at this groom, Mother. He’s beautiful.”
“So he is,” agreed her mother. “So he is. So about this Leighanne…?”
Abby described the ceremony and the reception and the wedding gift. Then she spent twenty minutes discussing business with her father…the publishing business. He had short to-the-point questions and she had short, direct answers. “I’ll get Bob Foster on it tomorrow,” he said.
“No, Daddy, it’s okay. I can take care of it. I know what I’m doing.”
It was the opening John was looking for. “Well, Honey, if that were the case, I don’t think you would have left your business affairs so up in the air and at risk…”
Abby’s spine stiffened. “Please define…’at risk’,” she said through pinched lips.
“Now, Honey, don’t get all in an uproar. It’s just that business is business and…”
“He didn’t marry me for my money, Daddy,” said Abby shortly.
“I know that. I know that. But the fact is that he did marry you and so…”
“In fact, guess what, Daddy! Mother! You’re going to get a good laugh out of this,” said Abby. She looked from one to the other. “Nick had no idea how much I was worth…and he was a little pissed, pardon the expression, when he found out. He wants to be the breadwinner, he says.”
Her parents looked at each other and then at her. Then back to each other. Then back to her.
“Hard to believe, I know. That someone would want to marry me for me…and not for my trust fund.” Abby laughed and then shook her head. “And I only told him about the trust fund. He still doesn’t know about the rest of it.”
Good, thought John, maybe there’s still time.
She loves him, thought Sharon. Please God, don’t let him hurt her. And I really must talk to her about her language. I don’t ‘pardon the expression’!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Abby put her hands over the keyboard. Nick, she thought, I miss you. I miss being in your arms. I miss your smile. I miss…
Okay, let’s get over this, Abigail Charlotte Fremont-Carter, right now! Or you will be sending him some god-awful emotion-packed response that neither of you wants or needs. And that definitely is not part of the deal.
A deal is a deal.
Boy, thought Abby! Daddy sure wanted to make something of that! It unnerved her a little, but she understood. She believed that her father sincerely trusted that she and Nick would be together forever. But just in case… there was the family fortune to be considered. And the family fortune grew larger every day because none of them was in the habit of jetting off to exotic locations or wasting money on frivolous things. It would never occur to them, for example, that pets needed clothing or that a birthday cake should cost $150.00.
Dear Nick,
Abby stared at it for awhile and then got up from the computer and walked away from it. She went to the kitchen and made herself a cup of tea. She wandered around the apartment, thinking about the things she had done and the things she still had to do.
Her parents had wanted her to stay over at the house tonight, but she had demurred. They fussed, but she insisted. I want to go home, she said. It saddened them both to realize that ‘home’ for her didn’t mean their house anymore. She left amid hugs and promises to see them again soon. Her mother reminded her to talk to Nick about a date for the “reception” and her father said he was happy for her. But the sentence that she carried away with her, the one that meant the most, the one that made her think that maybe some day, far down the line, she might actually understand her mother, was the last whispered comment.
“May I read one of your stories?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Dear Nick,
Abby re-read the email from him. She tried not to dwell on the line…you don’t need me to take care of you…oh, if you only knew, she thought and then slapped herself mentally. She pulled out her datebook and set it beside her computer. There was nothing in it since last week. She had not made future plans. She’d been afraid to. She wasn’t a superstitious person by nature, but she had just had the feeling that if she wrote any plans in her datebook for after the wedding, it would somehow curse her and the wedding would not take place. She clicked out of her email and went to the Internet. She found backstreet.net and recorded all the dates of the tour, writing in each section the distant city that her husband would be in. She paused lovingly over the beginning of May where she wrote Chicago in big, bold letters. She thought about drawing a heart around it, but decided against it. It seemed childish…and also foolish…what if Nick saw her datebook when he was here.
When he was here…
Abby almost lost it there, but pulled herself back. A deal is a deal. It had been so hard to say goodbye to him this morning, but time would sort that out, she was sure. They had managed it before. Of course, I wasn’t in love with him before, she thought and then told herself off again. Give it some time. Tomorrow, you get back into the swing of things…back to the hospital and the school, back to Committee meetings, back to writing.
Abby glanced over at the pages of notes and story bits that she had emailed herself from the road. She had printed them off as soon as she’d come home from her parents. Yes, back to writing, she thought. She picked up the pages and sorted through them. Then she set them aside. First, she had to answer Nick’s email and update her appointment book. Then she could get to Princess Penelope and her adventures.
Abby penciled in her engagements for the coming week. One of them was with Bob Foster, her father’s lawyer. John Fremont insisted that, if nothing else, Abby needed a will. She agreed to go see his lawyer, because she knew he was right. As soon as she agreed, John phoned Bob at home and made the appointment. Then he backed off completely. It was a good first step, he thought.
Abby knew exactly what her father was doing. And she could see why. He had the corporation to protect. And his daughter. He wanted to protect his daughter, as well. She could see that. Abby laughed to herself. And, of course, it was a little difficult for her parents to get their heads around the concept that someone had married Abby for a reason other than money. But he had, she thought. Nick hadn’t married her for love, but he also hadn’t married her for money. He didn’t even know how much she was worth. But somebody was about to tell him. Somebody was about to tell the world.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Ronni fumed for a whole day after Tammy’s gushing missive hit the Internet. Ironically, the announcement that the rumor was false had fueled as much discussion and speculation as the rumor itself. Ronni read it all carefully, searching for some innocent comment or question that could make her take up the cause and push it in another direction.
God, these people should get a life, she said to herself over and over as she read the postings. She couldn’t believe how big a part of people’s lives this all was. Sure, she was spending a good part of her day on it lately, but that was for a reason.
Veronica had also spent a good deal of time cultivating her mother-in-law this past week. She had talked to her on the phone almost daily and had gone to lunch with her once. She had been polite and pleasant and had expressed interest in Jeannette and her doings. And she got the information that Sharon Fremont had nearly stroked out over the elopement but was now happily engaged on turning the now-defunct reception into the party-of-the-century. John Fremont was another story. He was as happy as could be for his daughter, but he had misgivings about the monetary end of things. Just as Sharon had rigid guidelines for social protocol, so too did her husband like all the financial i’s dotted and t’s crossed.
Ronni had massaged some information out of James one night, after she’d screwed his brains out. James had taken to sending out for a sandwich before he left the office these days because he never knew what was waiting for him at home…but it usually wasn’t a hot meal. Something had Ronni supercharged this week. He’d barely get his briefcase set down before she’d come at him, wearing Lord only knew what, if anything, and start plucking at his clothes. They’d made love all over the house, standing up, sitting down, draped over various pieces of furniture. Ronni said she wanted to do it in every room. James was glad they hadn’t bought a bigger house.
Ronni ambushed him one night, wearing nothing but an apron, and they made love in the kitchen. James didn’t see how it could be comfortable for Ronni, splayed out like that on the hard oak table, but she didn’t seem to mind. Afterward, they went to bed and cuddled. This was another new aspect of Ronni. After the mind-blowing sex, she suddenly wanted to snuggle up and chat. Before now, they’d usually turned their backs to each other and gone to sleep. James had a feeling that Ronni got up again after he fell asleep and watched television for awhile. He thought it was sweet of her to let him sleep.
“I had lunch with your mother today,” began Ronni, when they were settled in each other’s arms.
“That’s nice,” said James. “I’m glad you’re getting along.”
“Well, why wouldn’t we?” purred Ronni. “We both love you.” She ran her fingernails over his chest. “She’s had quite the week, I must say, pulling Sharon back from the brink.”
James laughed. The night before, Ronni had done a scathing impersonation of Sharon Fremont receiving the news of the elopement. He had an uncomfortable moment when he wondered if his own mother had reacted the same way the previous June. “Sharon will survive,” said James. “She’ll find a way to turn it into a social triumph.”
Ronni laughed along with him. “Of course, she will. She’s Sharon Fremont. I’m not so sure about John, though.”
“Oh?” said James. “You mean because he’s lost his only daughter. He always doted on Abigail.”
“Well, you know,” began Ronni. She chose her words very carefully. “This guy Ducky married, this Backstreet Boy, he’s got money, I’m sure. I mean, he’s rich, right?”
“I guess so,” said James, “but there’s no way he’s as rich as Abigail…at least as rich as Abigail will be one day.”
“Right,” said Ronni, “so I guess her dad is just a little bent out of shape…you know, because maybe he married her for her money or something. I mean, come on James, this is Ducky we’re talking about. It has to cross people’s minds that there was more than true love behind this.”
“I don’t know,” said James. “They looked pretty happy together at the engagement party. Oww!”
“Sorry, love,” said Ronni, “didn’t mean to scratch. Anyway, according to your mother, Sharon says that the pre-nup didn’t get signed and John is fit to be tied.”
“It doesn’t matter,” said James, inhaling sharply. Ronni’s fingers were doing interesting things to his nether regions. “He can’t touch her money. Anything she had before they got married is hers. It’s only what she accrues from here on in that would be an issue. And Illinois isn’t a community property state. He’s probably worried about the trust fund, but there’s nothing he can do about that now.”
“Trust fund?” cooed Ronni, dropping kisses on his chest and licking his nipples. Her hand massaged his testicles gently.
“That’s the business that John gave me when I started out…managing Abigail’s trust fund…and her aunt’s.”
“Mmm,” said Ronni, rising up and moving over him. “And he can’t do anything about that? He can’t protect her?” She raked her fingernails lightly down his chest.
“The trust funds were set up by her grandfather shortly before he died. The old man wanted to protect the women, which in his mind, meant getting them married off. So he set up the trust funds so that they could have the interest and only get the principal when they were married. The day Abigail got married, she inherited the principal. Her father has no control over it any more. I’m hoping she’ll still retain the company to manage it for her.” James tipped his head back and closed his eyes as Ronni took him in both her hands and pumped him gently.
“Oh, I’m sure she will, Darling. You’ve done a good job for her. I’ll put in a good word with her, if you’d like.”
“No, you’d better not. I’ve said more than I should have already.”
“Oh, Darling, you silly boy. I’ll never be indiscreet. Come on now, if you can’t trust your wife, who can you trust?” Ronni bent down and put her head over her husband. James gasped with pleasure and raised his hips. He put his hands in her hair and bit his lip.
And Ronni sucked him until he came in her mouth. You don’t have to do that, he moaned, but she knew that he liked it, even though he felt guilty for letting her do it. It was her secret weapon.
