Page 7 of The Marriage Agreement
She takes her phone out of her purse and goes through it. “Oh,” she says. No doubt seeing all my missed calls.
“Oh, is right.”
She puts her phone back in her purse and stares at me. I raise my eyebrows, wondering what’s next.
“Do you want us to discuss it in the lobby?” I say to her. She shakes her head again and taps her temple. “Sorry, it’s just I didn’t expect you. I thought… Never mind what I thought, follow me.”
Her apartment is on the top floor of the building, but it doesn’t mean it’s a penthouse. Far from that. It’s small. Smaller than I expected, even after seeing where she lives. Before weentered, she got a little agitated and asked me to wait outside while she tidied the place. Now that I’m in, I look around, trying to sus out the reason for her panic. Something tells me she wasn’t simply putting clothes away, but hiding things. Evidence of another man, maybe? It would be uncouth to ask one man to marry you while you have pictures of another man in your apartment, I guess. I take a seat on one of the smaller sofas while she’s in the bedroom. When she comes back, she has taken off her coat and is now wearing a green curve-hugging dress that matches her eyes.
A low burning ember within me lights up. Eight years later, and she still has the same hold on me as before. Her beauty has only improved with age. There’s a maturity and quiet elegance to her now that makes her all the more desirable.
She perches herself on the edge of the couch facing mine and says, “I thought you didn’t want the deal.”
“At that moment, no, but I have since thought about it. Marrying you for a week doesn’t sound as bad if it means I get a stake in Hawthorne afterward.” She nods. She’s a little frazzled. From my coming here without her expecting it, or is there something else I am missing? “Ivy, if you have a boyfriend, you’re afraid will barge in any second and catch us discussing a marriage proposal. You can just say so.”
She settles in her seat. “Sorry, there’s no boyfriend. It’s just that you surprised me, that’s all. So you want to do it?”
“As long as there are no hidden clauses that would come to bite me in the ass.”
“Nothing of the sort. It’s only that to control my shares before I turn thirty. The trust says I should get married.”
“Can’t you just get married? I doubt you have to sell your entire stake to do so?” But then again, these old-money families have trusts with odd and archaic clauses.
“I tried that, but my father changed it after he kicked me out of the family. He had the trustee change it to add another stipulation. That my new husband would be the one in control. It’s a long story.”
“Oh. Care to get into the story? I’ve got time.”
She presses her lips. I’m sure she will not go any further into the story, but she then says, “My grandfather, or rather, great grandfather, set up a trust.”
From what I recall from the dozens of times Nolan Senior told me the story, Nolan Hawthorne, the first opened a department store on Fifth Avenue. It turned into a lucrative business with multiple department stores around the country. The second Nolan Hawthorne took the department stores global, and the third, Ivy’s father, diversified into retail chain stores, a fashion house, and garment suppliers. The fourth Nolan Hawthorne, Ivy’s eldest brother, has been a trailblazer in making the business a reliable online brand that’s hip to the current social media trends. I guess the one who set up the trust is the first Nolan Hawthorne.
“According to the trust, the men in the family can gain control of their inheritance when they turn twenty-five and the women thirty or if they’re married, they can gain control at the age of twenty-five.”
“A bit old school.”
“And then when my father learned I was trying to find a husband to marry, he convinced my brothers and the trustee to vote on a change, that if I get married before thirty, my husband will be the one to control the assets.”
I frown. Anger slowly bubbling inside me. On behalf of her? Can’t be. “What did you do that made your family so dead set against you?”
“Sleep with you.”
“They didn’t like their precious princess being touched by the help?”
She rolls her eyes. “Your mother was my father’s assistant, and you were an executive at the company. You were never the help.”
“You’re right. If you didn’t insinuate I took advantage of you, your father would have been happy to call me your boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend? I thought I was just a one-night stand.”
The aftermath of that night comes back rushing in. Nolan’s brother found Ivy and me together in bed, and a few seconds later, so did his father. The anger they both had would live with me forever. As if I had committed the worst crime in their mind. And to make things worse. Ivy’s actions only confirmed their thinking.
“They have you living in squalor and all because you slept with me?” I say, my gaze darting around the apartment, noting the small kitchen beyond the tiny island and the three doors in the passageway that can only be two bedrooms and a bathroom. Maybe the thing she’s hiding is a roommate. But why hide that? “Your father has been dead for what? Two years now? Shouldn’t your brother help you out? I’m sure he owns plenty of better apartments than this one.”
“Living here is my choice.”
“And yet you’re so desperate for money that you stalked me for an entire month.”
Her eyes bulge. “So you knew I was looking for you! Your assistants made it seem as if you didn’t even know I was there.”
