Broken Vows (Domestic Discipline Romance) (6 page)

Jenny nodded knowing it was the truth. "Are all the bills paid, now?"

Josh nodded. "Yes."

"What will we do, where will we go? We may have to leave soon. The realtor called this morning to say the couple who viewed the house yesterday seems very interested. She expects an offer from them any day."

"We will basically be starting over. Property values have dropped so much, the best we can expect is to break even," Josh said. "I know I resented this place and took out my resentment on you. At the same time, there are parts of the house I will genuinely miss."

"Mostly your office, the library, and the backyard," Jenny said smiling.

"True," he admitted. "Don't forget the barbecue and the garage when I still had my toys. Meanwhile, I have no job. The only offers I've received so far are from corporations wanting to land a known talent at a bargain price. It might be time to go into business for myself since I am tired of being a pawn in someone else's game. I have other ideas floating around, too, but first I need to see what happens with Tyrell's efforts. Don't worry, Jen. At the worst, we will rent a place to live for a while, we were happy in apartments before.
Where
we live doesn't matter. As long as we keep fighting for
us
, we have all we need."

* * *

Josh reviewed the bank account he had set up to pay off their credit accounts. He had already been aware of most of their debt, but there had still been a few surprises. He had not known about the local store accounts until Jenny showed him the bills. There was one significant jewelry store bill he knew was not Jenny's purchase. Ultimately, he still was responsible for it even if the account was in Jenny's name.

Yes, it made him angry, but he had to let it go. If he expected Jenny to accept changes in their lives, he had to let go of his resentments too. The bill was paid, it was over, and unless Jenny did it again, he had to let it go. It was in the past.

Henry Grayson had been thorough. He had given them enough money to pay off their debts and to live comfortably for a while even if Josh could not find a new job right away. Josh had kept two of the cards open with reasonable credit limits, in case of an emergency. He had also purchased better health insurance as it was important for them and their children, especially now.

Josh had done one more thing on the advice of his brother. He had rented a post office box and requested a change of address to it for their mail. Paying off and closing all their accounts was an invitation to a constant barrage of new credit card offers. He did not want Jenny or Denise tempted by zero balances.

Surprisingly, Jenny had not asked for specifics about what Henry Grayson had given his son. She had promised to let Josh control their finances and she was living up to her end of the bargain. It was a welcomed relief. They hadn't had any arguments in several weeks and their relationship was improving every day.

* * *

Jenny tasted the chili she was making in a crock-pot, adding the crock-pot to a list posted on the refrigerator of things she wanted to be kept out of storage, and then she returned to packing. As she wrapped wine glasses, she wondered why they even had them. Neither she nor Josh drank anything stronger than coffee. He was convinced alcoholism ran in his biological family and it never settled well on her stomach. Whenever they entertained, it was kid friendly. Yet, she had complete sets of twelve each of four different types of wine glasses, very
expensive
wine glasses.

She studied the box for a long time, and then regarded the stack of boxes along the wall. She wrote 'Fragile/Wineglasses' on all four sides of the box, and then added something else for the first time. Instead of noting 'move, store, or give away,' she wrote 'auction/sale.' She rechecked the contents of other boxes, shifted a few things around, and changed the previous designations on several more boxes to 'auction/sale.'

"Something smells good," exclaimed Josh, sniffing as he came into the kitchen and lifted the lid from the pot. He turned and saw the new label on the box she was marking. "What's this?"

"We won't have room for all this. Honestly, I don't know why we even have half of it, we certainly don't use it. I have filled every space in this house with useless things that are pretty, but we don't use. If we are starting over, why should we drag it all with us?"

Jenny found herself kissed thoroughly, the kind of kiss usually leading to the bedroom.

"Thank you," said Josh. "The real estate agent called, she is coming after dinner with a contract. The people interested in the house have brought their offer up to our asking price. We definitely will break even, which was all we could hope for in this market. At least it won't be a financial drain on us anymore."

Jenny went to a kitchen drawer and pulled out a pack of 3 x 5 index cards. She handed Josh a permanent marker and a roll of tape. "Let's go through the house and decide what goes with us, what goes to storage, and what we might never have space for again. We have a new word in our vocabulary. It's
downsizing
."

Josh seemed surprised but nodded in agreement. "We can start in our bedroom. The first thing to go is the Titanic-sized bed!"

What followed was a spontaneous romp through the house with little disagreement between them about what pieces were for sale or auction. Their bed, along with the gigantic chests and high boys in the master suite, were the first pieces tagged to sell since they were too large to fit in any average-sized bedroom. Instead, they decided to keep a set of marble-topped guestroom furniture with a cozy queen-sized bed for their use. They tagged the entire contents of another spare bedroom for sale, as well as the shelving and large toy boxes in the playroom. Neither of them thought they would be living any time soon in a place large enough for a separate children's playroom. However, Jenny insisted everything in Josh's office be put into storage. He loved his office and never had a single complaint about how she had decorated it for him. Downstairs, they regretfully tagged the library furnishings for auction. It was a room loved by both of them, yet, how long would it be before they could afford a dedicated library again. They decided to keep the books. You could never go wrong keeping beloved books. They were brutal in some rooms, deciding to sell off everything. In other rooms, they decided to keep bits and pieces.

When their realtor came over with the contract for their signatures, she noticed the sale/auction tags. Upon receiving and explanation, she asked if the purchasers could tour the house again to see if they wanted to purchase any furnishings on a separate bill of sale. She knew the couple were returning from a lengthy stay in Europe and needed to furnish the entire house from the ground up. It made sense to Jenny and Josh to sell to the new owners rather than paying to move the furniture to an auction house, not to mention the commission they would have to pay.

The realtor called the buyers, who rushed over immediately. They made offers on most of the furniture marked for sale, in addition to several pieces not originally marked for auction, but which Josh and Jenny decided to sell to them. It was quite a list. It was a daunting prospect to realize that a great deal of what they had worked so hard to acquire would now belong to someone else. Still, when they signed the bills of sale, neither of them hesitated.

Josh returned from escorting their agent to the door for the second time in the day to find Jenny standing in the middle of the living room looking a bit distraught. "Are you okay?"

Jenny wistfully looked around the room, at the curving stairs and stone fireplace. She nodded, "I'm all right. I was saying goodbye."

Josh was reading online documents sent to him by Brice Haroldson; the prospectus was interesting, and their business plan was solid. He wished he had the money to invest. Often, the best time to start a new company was when bigger companies experienced financial difficulties and were downsizing or closing.

He could not help regretting he was in no position to think about investing in the business as a full partner. The idea of working
for
his friends was a bitter pill to swallow, although they had offered it as an alternative to a partnership since they did want him a part of the new endeavor. They even sweetened the offer with an increased salary incentive to make it worth moving across the country. A personal bonus was the opportunity to work with men he genuinely liked and respected. Unfortunately, his friends were still eight months out from their planned launch of the new company.

Emmie sat in his lap as he worked, exactly as she had ever since she was a tiny tot. He had tried to establish the same habit with Adam, but his boy was far more rambunctious, all he wanted was to bang on the keyboard and tear into everything within his reach. Jenny had taken their little
Rambo
with her today to do the grocery shopping.

Emmie had had a few more screaming fits. They quickly realized her screaming only happened when Josh left the house without explaining to her he would be back. They soon learned he had to talk with Emmie first if he were going to be away from the house for an extended period. When he did so, she didn't panic and scream hysterically. So, Josh talked with her or took her with him. They didn't need a doctor to tell them their separation had traumatized their precious daughter. On their last visit with the psychologist, Dr. Strickland said there was an improvement in Emmie's behavior. She believed Emmie recognized her mother and father were getting along better.

Josh and Jenny were also going to marriage counseling sessions with Gene Lincoln's minister, as his friend had suggested. Pastor Daily encouraged them to forgive their past faults and move forward with a renewed commitment to making their marriage work. It was exactly what Josh and Jenny had already agreed to do, so they readily embraced the pastor's ideas. Pastor Daily also suggested Josh try working off his anger and frustration with exercise. Since Josh's anger was more of a direct result of interactions with his mother-in-law rather than his wife, he was not getting much exercise.

A dramatic and welcome side effect of cutting off Denise's access to their credit lines was she was around them a lot less. When she did come to the house, she continued being condescending and critical. Twice now, Josh had felt compelled to ask her to leave. He did not have a problem evicting Denise from their home, but such actions upset Jenny.

* * *

When the front doorbell rang, Josh gave Emmie a piggyback ride to the door.

"Mr. Grayson?" a man asked as he stood on the threshold.

Josh braced himself. He was expecting a subpoena from his old company demanding he turn over the Richfield Towers plans until the courts could decide their ownership. He set Emmie down on her feet and answered warily, "Yes."

"My name is Thomas Mitchim and I am an attorney. I represent…."

"Mr. Mitchim, stop right there, you need to speak to my attorney, Tyrell Grayson. Anything to do with the litigation must go through him."

"I am sure it does, but I am not here about your litigation with Pugh and Barkley," Mr. Mitchim said.

"Oh, I apologize," said Josh. "Their attorneys have been trying to contact me directly rather than through my lawyer."

"Tyrell Grayson's reputation precedes him. I would probably want to avoid him, too," Mr. Mitchim said with a hint of a smile. "However, what I need to discuss with you, Mr. Grayson, is something I assume will be good news. I am, in fact, here to represent you."

Josh frowned, "In what way?"

"I don't mean to be forward or rude, but could we take this inside?" Mr. Mitchim asked as he took a deep breath and pointed down to his foot encased in a cast.

"I'm sorry, of course," said Josh politely stepping back out of the way. Mr. Mitchim moved past him, limping and leaning heavily on a cane. He went straight to the closest chair where he immediately sat down. Belatedly, Josh realized it might have been a ploy to gain entry. "This better not be a trick to serve me with papers or something."

"I can assure you it is not, and I do apologize for any misunderstanding," Mr. Mitchim said. "I probably should have called ahead, but this accident has already delayed me quite a bit."

Josh glanced at the man's cast, again.

Mr. Mitchim grimaced, "It is not life threatening or limb threatening, but I will not be skiing this season. I stepped out my back door and tripped over a paving block. There are three broken bones in my foot and two broken toes. I can honestly tell you I will be a lot more sympathetic the next time I see someone in a cast.

"For the record, are you Joshua Nathaniel Taylor Grayson?"

"I am, except I dropped the Taylor name years ago. I took the Grayson name when I was sixteen," Josh agreed. He pulled out his wallet to show his driver's license.

"That is not necessary. If I were not already one-hundred percent sure of your identity, I would not have knocked on your door. You are the grandson of Harold Nathaniel Bentley?"

"I wouldn't have any idea." Josh shook his head. "The only thing I know about my birth family is my mother's name, Charlotte Taylor. My birth certificate says father 'unknown.' My mother abandoned me when I was six years old. I barely have any memory of her, and I have not heard from her since then. If this is some sort of plea to reunite with her, you can forget it. I am not interested."

"Mr. Grayson, your mother, died in 1993," Mr. Mitchim stated. "At the time, she was married to a man named Frank Bridges who was her fourth husband. They had been married six years before they were both killed in a motorcycle accident. No children ensued from that or any of her prior marriages. When her father, your grandfather, Harold Bentley, was notified of his daughter's death, he changed his will to make you his sole beneficiary."

Josh shook his head in disbelief. "I had a grandfather who knew of me, yet he left me in foster care?"

Mr. Mitchim nodded. "Apparently, yes. Mr. Grayson, I did not know Mr. Bentley, as he was my father's client. He was one of many I inherited after my father passed away three years ago. I only met Mr. Bentley once. At that meeting, he was… well either cantankerous, or he was exhibiting symptoms of senility. Harold Bentley died six weeks ago and I have been executing his will since then. I have spent most of my time locating and investigating you to verify if you were indeed the correct heir to his estate. This broken foot, unfortunately, delayed me last week."

"You were investigating me," Josh repeated. "That's why you know of the litigation. A stranger to me, who always knew I existed, has left me an inheritance. Yet, he did not have the decency to meet me, or to step forward and help when I was a child. What kind of a person does this?"

"Please, don't shoot the messenger," Mr. Mitchim said. He pulled a folder out of his briefcase. There are at least forty flags on these documents all requiring your signature. After you sign them, I will file the papers, and you will become the sole heir of the Bentley estate. There were originally two beneficiaries. He had bequeathed a generous sum to his housekeeper, but she died two months prior to him. Officials then placed Mr. Bentley in a long-term care facility where he soon died. He was only seventy-one years old, but I understand he had been dealing with heart problems for many years."

Josh looked at the folder but did not open it. "My mother's father left me something? What?"

* * *

After Josh had closed the front door on the attorney, he took the folder upstairs to his office. He immediately walked back downstairs, realizing he had left Emmie behind. He brought her upstairs with him. He opened the folder, closed it, and opened it again. He finally slid it into his desk drawer and slumped down into his chair.

Emmie came over, caught his face between her hands, and looked him squarely in the eyes. Her eyes were intense and Josh realized he was frightening her.

"I'm all right, baby girl. Daddy is okay," he smiled to prove his point. She nodded and went to play with one of Adam's toys he had left on the sofa.

Josh picked up his phone and selected #3 on his favorite contacts.

"Tyrell Grayson!"

"Tyrell," Josh said. "I need to see you."

"I'm coming your way tomorrow," Tyrell said.

"I need to see you tonight," Josh exclaimed.

"What's wrong, bro," Tyrell's voice changed from taunting older brother to concerned big brother in a fraction of a second. "What is it? Has there been an accident?"

"No, but it is important, very important. We are not hurt or anything, but I need…"

"I'm on my way," Tyrell interrupted and the call disconnected in Josh's ear.

* * *

"Tyrell is coming by this evening," Josh said over dinner.

"Violet and the boys, too?" Jenny asked eagerly.

"I don't know, he didn't say."

"I'll make some cookies for the boys just in case. Does that mean he has come to some kind of a settlement?"

"He hasn't said yet," Josh hedged.

Tyrell did bring his family, his wife Violet and his two sons, James, and Dillon. The boys, aged four and six, played well with Emmie, so the women sent the children off to the playroom. Violet took Adam in her lap for what she called her
'baby fix,'
which made Jenny smile, but made Tyrell frown with concern.

Josh and Tyrell went to the office where Josh closed the door.

"Well, what is wrong?" Tyrell demanded. "Whatever it is you haven't told Jenny about it."

"No, I haven't," Josh said unlocking his desk drawer and handing the thick folder to his brother.

Tyrell sat down at his brother's desk and perused the sheaf of documents from front to back. After he had turned over the last page, he closed the folder and tossed it down on the desk. He surveyed his younger brother with a serious look before a grin broke out over his face.

"Son of a bitch! Why haven't you signed anything, yet?"

"Because I am too stunned," Josh exclaimed pacing back and forth across the room. "Do you think it is real?"

"It looks legitimate to me," Tyrell exclaimed. "Josh, I know you are an idiot. I also know you have a bucketful of pride, but please tell me you are
not
going to throw this back in the old man's face. He is already dead. You can't hurt him!"

"Of course not," Josh snapped. "Contrary to what you believe, I am not stupid.
Fifty-seven million
dollars
just landed in my lap,
after
inheritance taxes and attorney fees! The old bastard left me in foster care, yet he was stinking rich! He knew I was out there alone, yet he did nothing! Nothing! All because he cut off contact with my mother!"

"Yeah, well, he has sort of balanced out the asshole scale," Tyrell said laughing. "I guess you will be looking down your nose at the rest of us from now on. We still have to work for a living."

"So do I," Josh said. "The attorney, Mr. Mitchim, is staying at the Homewood Suites in Southington. I told him I needed twenty-four hours to think about it. I need you to make sure this is legitimate by tomorrow."

"I can do it," Tyrell promised. "Why haven't you told Jenny?"

"I wasn't sure it was real," Josh admitted. He sat down across from his older brother and frequent sounding board. "Also, because I am not sure how it will affect us. We have recently started putting
us
back together, Tyrell. The last several years have been bad. We were talking divorce only a couple of weeks ago. When the shit hit the fan, somehow Jenny and I pulled together to put our marriage back on solid ground. I do not want to lose our momentum. Most people would have called it quits by now, but somehow this crisis has brought us back together. I don't want sudden wealth to destroy it."

"Does anyone else know?" Tyrell asked.

"You, Mr. Mitchim, and the IRS," Josh said.

"Then don't tell her," Tyrell suggested. "Pretend it's not there until your marriage is back on solid ground. I will conduct due diligence to make sure everything checks out, but I can already tell you by the paperwork, it looks good. Meanwhile, you are going to get a couriered check from DQ&H, which should arrive tomorrow."

"You settled with Pugh and Barkley?" Josh's interest perked.

"Actually, it was with the corporate heads of DQ&H," Tyrell answered with a grin. "This time, you will have to sign a disclaimer not to discuss the details, but I made them pay for it. I also made sure your plans belong to you and only you. They didn't follow their own company directives and it cost them big bucks."

"You are going to make me ask, aren't you," Josh demanded.

"Hell, it's worth a little groveling from my little brother," Tyrell said, baiting him.

"How much," Josh growled.

"The eighteen architects let go in the first round of layoffs will each receive $300,000. You and Glenn Franklin, the architect already suing them who joined our suit, will each receive $600,000. It was a $7.2 million settlement total, but my attorney fees came off the top. DQ&H will probably make some upper management changes shortly. We caught Pugh and Barkley dead to rights skimming past government labor laws and trying to cheat you and Franklin out of your work. The Labor Department is also charging them with ethics violations and fining them heavily for their misdeeds. DQ&H is not happy with its latest acquisition. They will have to go into overdrive to keep this from becoming a public relations fiasco."