Page 11 of The Hampton Beach Café
“Your marriage status…” she said, “…in all contracts that relate to your personal stake in the corporation, you’re defined as the legal spouse of Mr. Crawford.”
That stone was getting heavier in her stomach.
“So what? It’s clear that those contracts refer to me. I was his only spouse…”
“Yes, but the protective clauses state that should you get a divorce, your holdings are to be liquidated and your position dissolved.”
With her years of experience in risk management, negotiation, and all levels of business dealings, Frances was accustomed to taking shock in her stride––but this?
No.
Her tongue felt like it was too big for her mouth. She couldn’t form words. The stone she felt in her stomach grew hot, and she thought she would throw up.
“What?”
“Your position on the board doesn’t exist anymore…” Veronica said sheepishly, “…and your shareholdings have been sold at market closing on the day you signed the divorce papers…the company broker has already organized it.”
“You can’t do that! Those are my shares, not the company’s!”
“Frances…you signed the release. There are standing instructions with the broker; besides, it’s already done.”
Silence filled the phone call, and Frances could hear Veronica fidgeting.
“I’m sorry, Frances, I didn’t know…I thought I should be the one to tell you instead of Bob.”
A weird twinge of relief passed over her, adding to the nausea she felt.
“That…That is appreciated. Veronica, is this already done?”
A pause made Frances dare to hope that she had a legal leg to stand on if those shares were still in her name…
“It’s all completed. The letter from the holdings representative was delivered by courier to your house today. When you weren’t there, well, I got worried and wanted to call to make sure you were ok and…well, like I said, Bob would have been the person the board would want to have this conversation with you and…”
“That would have been even less fun than this conversation.”
“Sorry.”
The genuine regret in Veronica’s voice made Frances cringe. “No, I’m sorry, you’re doing me a favor by telling me. Have…have you spoken to…”
No, she couldn’t bring herself to ask about him. How strange it was to think that less than a week ago, they had thought nothing of calling every few hours to check-in, and now she couldn’t even say his name to their colleague.
“Mr. Jeremy?” Frances added quickly before Veronica could assume she had meant her husband.
Her ex-husband.
“Yes, I have, and he is equally displeased by the action, but he can’t see a way out for you. It’s done. You’re no longer part of Crawford International.”
“Bye, Veronica, thanks.”
It was rude, but she didn’t care. She needed to not be talking to anyone. Frances glanced over her shoulder at Vincent fussing around the coffee machine. She couldn’t face explaining all this to him, but the idea of going in and pretending everything was fine? No. That wouldn’t work.
Spinning on her heel, Frances marched down the street in the opposite direction Kennedy Pine had taken––just in case.
How dare they do this to me?
She could feel herself getting angrier with every heavy thump of her walking shoes on the pavement.
She was a founding partner, for Pete's sake.
