Karen shook off her thoughts. “Daddy, this is your fifth divorce,” she said with a heavy sigh.
“Including your mother?”
“Yes.”
“Is that right? I thought it was six,” he said with a sigh of his own. “I should keep better count.”
Footsteps and voices approached the doors. Albert rushed to Karen and Edward, prodding them to the table. “Get out of the corner, Ed,” Albert croaked, sweat forming on his upper lip. “It makes you look desperate.”
The doors swung open. Flanked by clones of Edward’s lawyers, the fifth Mrs. Edward Townsend swept in, every platinum blond hair in place, diamonds glittering in her ears and at her throat. While Karen hadn’t spent much time with her, she did know Laurette had a pervasive and hideous attachment to fur, including varieties of small dogs resembling oversized, hirsute rats. She wore a white pantsuit with long, fuzzy fringe; specks of white littered the carpet in her wake. Karen had never seen a grown woman shed.
She squeezed Edward’s hand as Albert recited her father’s offer of settlement. A round of arguments ensued over the summer house, the New York apartment, the car and driver, and the monthly allowance for maintenance of the rat-like canines.
“I don’t see why I shouldn’t have all of the property,” Laurette said.
As she chattered on, Edward let go of Karen’s hand to scribble on a sheet of the firm’s letterhead and push it over to Albert. Albert ground his teeth and his complexion deepened into an alarming shade of plum.
“After all, he’s never there. He’s too busy with his—”
“Laurette,” Edward interrupted. “Consider this.”
Albert slid the paper under Laurette’s nose. She read it once, then again. Her attorneys leaned in from each side, whispering into Laurette’s ears.
“That should be enough for the dogs,” Edward said.
“We accept,” Laurette’s lawyers said in unison.
Laurette gave Karen a long look as Albert made the summation. “In exchange for receiving the Lexington Avenue property and the monthly allowance, no details related to this marriage, including the material reason or events leading to the dissolution of the marriage, may be divulged. If such information is found to have been divulged, this agreement will be null and void.”
Albert mopped his brow with a handkerchief.
At one end of the table, Edward’s legal eagles gathered their volumes of papers. At the other end Karen sat next to Edward, who leaned back comfortably, one leg crossed over the other.
“Your mother and I made our final settlement in this room,” he said in what Karen thought might be a regretful tone. “What a woman.” He chuckled. “She never appreciated my contributions to our partnership, personal or professional. And she stole all my best lines.”
Although he was smiling, Karen could see his eyes turning inky-black.
“She stole the brownstone too, Ed,” Albert said, heading for the door. “You never should have given her the brownstone.”
“Albert’s never forgiven me for losing the brownstone.”
“Which side? It was divided down the middle with tape, remember? That was the summer Mommy took me to Paris.”
“Oh yes. She cut the power on my side of the house. It took two weeks to get it repaired.”
“And mother came back to find her entire wardrobe mysteriously gone.”
He chuckled. “I hope the electrician’s wife enjoyed her closetful of Prada.”
“You can’t keep fighting with Mommy and you can’t keep getting married. Daddy, why do you do this? Maryanne, Jessica, Amber…”
Edward gave her a sheepish look. “I forgot about Amber. I admit that was awful, but you know they are all a psychological manifestation of your mother’s refusal to recognize my worth.”
Slipping her hand into his, she gave a strong squeeze. “Daddy, you and Mommy write fiction, not psychology.”
“Sweetheart, it’s the same thing. What would Buddha say about all this?”
“I’m not a Buddhist, but he would say desire is the root of all suffering.”
Edward sat back, pondering her words. “Quite right. Well, life is about change, Karen.”
They sat in silence and Karen knew she had to tell him and it had to be now. She took a deep breath.
“Daddy, I’m getting married.”
Edward sat up. “Good Lord, Karen, you’ve always been so sensible.”
“He wants—we—want a wedding.”
“Ah,” Edward said, stroking her hand. “Beware a romantic man. They’re always trouble. I should know.”
Karen leaned forward. “I want you and mother to be at the wedding.”
Edward frowned at her. “You haven’t told your mother, have you? She’s going to be very unhappy about this, Karen. She guards your trust fund like Fort Knox.”
“I won’t receive it until I’m forty.”
“And you are nowhere near jaded enough. It’s all that spiritual training. We should never have allowed you to go to Malaysia. Or was it Tibet?”
“Both. Daddy, you must understand why I want this. You keep getting married.”
“And shouldn’t someone have stopped me?”
Karen didn’t answer.
“As I said, life is about change.” He kissed her forehead. “I’m so proud of you, telling me first. It shows you’re beautiful and intelligent. Always start with the weakest link. But you need to tell her as soon as possible.”
“Daddy, why do you always put a clause in your settlement documents that the reason for your divorce can never be revealed?”
Edward squeezed her hand. “To keep the information from being published, of course. You know I detest public displays.”
Karen smiled and did a mental eye roll. Ask a question, get an absurd answer. I won’t allow fear or anxiety to get the better of me. I’ll follow my instincts and tell mother. Everything will be fine.
Chapter 11
Elizabeth sat across from Nick at a small secluded table; the lovers’ table. Nick appeared tired, worn down from eighteen-hour days sequestered in a data room at his firm, working on Parker’s latest hostile takeover. A late-night dinner was all the time they could steal before he returned to the office. Elizabeth found herself stifling the urge to yawn.
“C’mon,” he said, holding up a forkful of her lobster ravioli. “I have to keep you fed. I’m responsible for you.”
She opened her mouth. He waited, then leaned over to take a kiss, and she was instantly flooded with thoughts of Ian—the strength of his arms around her, his scent. A pang of guilt shot through her. Nothing happened, she reminded herself. Nothing. Strictly platonic.
They ate in silence for a few minutes, Elizabeth bracing herself for the customary quiz that made their relationship a natural extension of their work. Tonight she felt unusually impatient. She didn’t want to talk about it.
“I heard that Adam is moving on. What’s your next move?”
Elizabeth grimaced. She had succeeded in creating a leaner operation. But she hadn’t banked on a second star consultant moving on to other opportunities. It was a blow