that I’m old, too. I want to gaze at youth and be reminded that I’m as young as I feel.”
My husband may have inherited his good fortune, but he was no brainless, wasteful heir. He’d been working as his father’s right hand for years and had already helped transform Landel into one of the largest multimedia companies in the world. They own film studios, television networks, Cable and satellite channels, radio stations, restaurant chains and luxury resorts all over the world.
Marcel was a shrewd and pragmatic businessman. He treated the negotiation of our prenuptial agreement no differently and had a checklist that he wouldn’t stray from.
He wanted a woman who was well educated, but not too well. No younger than twenty-one, but no older than twenty-five. She must have wealth of her own and no criminal ties, and most importantly, she must be fertile. And he wanted proof of all of those things before he’d sign anything.
For a woman who had decided that marriage and children were not in my future, it was a very bitter pill to swallow.
But, I did. I slept with him until a blood test showed I was pregnant. And then, we set a date. My grandfather called me the morning the announcement was made and invited me to lunch.
It was a knife in my heart when he had a stroke an hour after he called me. It left him paralyzed and robbed him of his speech. But the die was cast. We’d signed a prenuptial agreement, I was pregnant. There was no turning back.
I smiled through every fitting, every thinly veiled insult from his mother, and did what I knew my grandfather’s love was conditioned on. I never complained or hinted at my unhappiness.
Until the week before our wedding when he announced that we would be living in Paris. In a house we would share with his fork-tongued mother.
It was the drop that made the well of rage inside me overflow. I threatened to call off the wedding. I’d sobbed and screamed and drained that emotional well dry. Then, I did my duty.
Marcel jokes that he pulled off the heist of the century getting me down the aisle. Everyone laughs but me. It’s no joke at all I gave him everything he wanted in a bid to regain my grandfather’s trust and affection and never knew if I’d been successful.
That phone call inviting me over was the last time I heard his voice. I like to think I saw approval in his eyes when I sat by his bed in the months followed his stroke. But when he died, my banishment from employment at Wilde World was still in effect.
Yesterday, we laid him to rest. Burying my grandfather without making amends is something I’ll never recover from and it was one of the worst days of my life.
Somehow, the glutton for punishment in me decided that meeting Matty for lunch today, would be a good idea.
It’s the first time we’ve seen each other since the day we all got fired.
Jack married her college sweetheart and moved to California and we haven’t been in touch since.
Matty stayed in Houston, but I know she’s struggled to find work. Nerves, excitement, and hope lighten my stomach as I stop at the valet stand.
“Welcome to Ruggles on the Green, Mrs. Landel.” The young man who opens my door, leans down. I return his obliging smile and accept the hand he’s offering and let him help me from the car. After a whole year of marriage, I’m still getting used to my last name and the deference it brings.
I follow the hostess through the restaurant and stop every few feet to respond to greetings from people I don’t know.
By the time I reach the table where Matty is already waiting, I’m desperate for a familiar face and give a giddy wave when we make eye contact.
Her less than lackluster smile is more of a grimace and dashes my hopes that I’ll be able to relax with her.
She looks different. It’s not just the close crop of curly hair that’s replaced her ever present box braids. She looks…older and tired
“So, how’s married life?” she asks as soon as I sit down. Her voice is expectant and snide.
“It’s fine, thanks. How are you.”
She ignores me and nods at the waiter who drops menus off and picks one up, opening it so that it completely obscures her face “So, have you told your husband about Weston?”
Her question catches me off guard and I