Page 5 of Her Surprise Protector
That was easier said than done. When we reconvened the next Thursday, last night, for another evening at the club, I had found myself putting up a facade. Nate had asked me how I was doing, and I told him I was fine – a lot more convincingly, this time. Maybe since no other approach had worked so far, I thought I should try to fake it until I made it…as the saying goes.
Listlessly, I glanced around my massive, empty mansion. This place was supposed to be my home with Hallie. She was supposed to fill these rooms with laughter and make me feel like I was never alone. I wasn’t even sure that I really missed Hallie, not anymore. The idea of her, that was what I missed - the idea of having someone here for me, and herewithme.
I had thought that person was Hallie. She was the first woman I ever loved. I had opened my heart to her, and I thought she felt the same way about me. Then, I came home one day, holding what I thought was a generous prenuptial agreement my lawyer had prepared. It was a formality, and nothing more. Even my parents had one. I just assumed our love was strong enough to hold up to anything - like Mom and Dad’s. So, I figured Hallie wouldn’t even blink at such a customary request.
Hallie did a lot more than blink. She screamed at me, asking me if I really trusted her so little that we had to agree to a prenup. When I asked her why… asked her why she thought I would not provide for her if our marriage ended in divorce; Hallie had never been able to give me a straight answer. Eventually, when she realized I wasn’t going to change my mind, Hallie packed her things and walked out the door.
Gold digger. When I told Zeke and Nate the story a few days after she left me, they had called her that. And, well, a few other less flattering names, too. I actually got angry in her defense, saying that there had to be another reason. Yeah, there wasn’t. The guys were spot-on. Hallie was in it for my money and nothing else.
Shrugging, I downed the last sip of my morning smoothie. There was nothing wrong with being alone. I didn’t like it, but I didn’t like lots of things. Cockroaches, people who didn’t wipe down machines in the gym when they finished working out, holding interviews for new secretaries, people who took boats out but had no idea how to pilot them – those were just a few. If I could deal with those things, I could deal with being alone, too.
I raised the empty glass in an ironic toast to myself, then set it on the counter to deal with later. That old carefree bachelor life was calling, urging me to go back to hitting the upscale clubs and hooking up with whomever I wanted, whenever I wanted. And right now, I was ready to indulge myself, again. But first, I had a short trip to make – one that I had put off for too long.
Jeans and a trendy button-up shirt waited for me in my second-floor bedroom, so I changed while looking out the tall windows at the sparkling ocean. I tugged on a pair of comfortable brown boots, checked my hair in the floor-length mirror built into the closet door, and gave myself a nod. “Time to do this,” I told my reflection.
My Mercedes purred to life, and the garage doors opened to let me onto the street. I smiled to myself when I noticed the pickup truck barreling toward me, and pulled out anyway with a screech of tires, leaving the truck behind in a cloud of blue smoke.
I didn’t usually have much reason to go out to Sag Harbor other than to visit the upscale stores once in a while, but today was a special occasion. My lawyer’s office was located there, and I was on my way to undo the last tie to my ex – nullify the prenuptial agreement. It was never signed. So the agreement was just - open - in a state of limbo, like me. If getting rid of the ring hadn’t been enough, maybe today’s visit to Sag Harbor would do the trick.
I hope I wasn’t supposed to bring the agreement.Hallie had torn it to shreds. But it was only a few simple pieces of paper, and surely they could print another document if necessary.If it’s just a few papers, why did it take you this long to end it?I breezed through a light as it flashed yellow and turned up the music to shut up that accusing part of my brain.
My appointment was at nine, and I arrived at the law office exactly ten minutes early. “Jason Rutherford Riker III,” I identified myself to the man behind the reception desk. He gave me a quick nod. I figured the guy was raised in the Hamptons since he didn’t flinch when I used my full name. It was customary here if your family name was well known.And, of course, mine is.
“So, you’re here to nullify a proposed prenuptial agreement, Mr. Riker?”
“That is correct. Is Devon on time?”
“As you probably already know, Mr. Liguori’s office is down the hall to the right. You can go on into the conference room and make yourself comfortable. Help yourself to the coffee bar. He’ll be with you in a few moments.”
“Yes, I’m familiar with his office.”
“Perfect, I’ll have our legal aide bring you the applicable paperwork so you can look it over while you wait.”
I thanked him and headed down the hall toward the door with ‘Devon Liguori, Esquire’ emblazoned on the brass nameplate. Sitting here in this wooden chair with its beige leather upholstery glancing around Devon’s office reminded me of my ex - again. The last time I had visited, Devon had congratulated me on our engagement before we sat down to discuss the prenup.
Scowling, I poured a cup of coffee. Would anything ever not make me think of my ex?
Suddenly, excitement flooded through me, and I shot upright, searching wildly for something to write with and a piece of paper. My roving eyes located a legal table and a gold ink pen, and I helped myself to both.
And that’s when I knew at last.
The little things, I found, became more profound
and the larger things faded into the past.
I stopped writing. My mind went blank. The lightning bolt of inspiration hadn’t gone beyond these three simple lines.
Sighing, I tore the top sheet off the pad, set it back where I had found it and put the piece of paper in my pocket after a quick glance behind me. Nate and Zeke would have an absolute field day with the bit of knowledge that I wrote poetry in my spare time, and I would go to any – and I meant any – lengths to avoid them finding out. I doubted my lawyer would do the same, but I would still prefer to keep it to myself. Writing poetry didn’t go hand in hand with my career as a CEO of Sunset Security, yachting and working out.
Poetry was something I had picked up in middle school. I would never forget what my dad had said when I came home one day upset because some kids had teased me about my writing.
“If they laugh, they don’t deserve to read it,” Dad had told me grinning and patting my back while I sat on a barstool doing homework in our Manhattan penthouse. “You don’t have to hide your poetry. You can choose to show it only to those who will appreciate your thoughts.”
Those few words had changed the way I thought about my writing. No longer was it an embarrassing habit, something to be hidden from the world. Whether it was bad or good, my poetry was a gem, something I would only show to people who earned a certain level of trust.
Not even Hallie had ever reached that point. Once, we were visiting a quaint bookstore where an actor from Broadway was reciting selected pieces by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Hallie quickly had made it clear she had no interest in listening to the boring performance. So, I never mentioned Ididlike to listen to poetry and wrote a few lines myself now and then. In retrospect, that incident was a huge red flag about our lack of compatibility that, unfortunately, I had ignored.
Where’s that legal aide with my paperwork?Impatiently, I shifted in my seat. I did way too much thinking when left to my own devices for an extended length of time.How long could it possibly take to print a document?The sooner I could slap my signature on the bottom line and get out of here, the better.
