The Pre-Nup (23 page)

Mara
Chapter
28

W
here are we going?” Mara asked as Josh drove out through the automated gateway of Mayfair Estates. Pale morning sunlight streamed through the windshield, which was still streaky from the weekend rainstorm.

He stopped for a red light, but kept his eyes on the road. “You’ll see.”

Mara studied his face, but couldn’t decipher his expression. He looked…resolute. Well, that made one of them. “This doesn’t involve a shredded pre-nup and a shallow grave in the desert, does it?”

He laughed. “It involves breakfast, and don’t worry, I’ll get you to work before your first meeting starts. I already called Julie to check your schedule.”

“I’m impressed. And intrigued.” She settled back against the nubby gray upholstery and tried to be patient, but patience had never been her strong suit. “So what are we having for breakfast? Are we going to that place on Seventh Street with the killer beignets?”

“Nope.” He maintained his cyborg face. “We’re going someplace new. Consider it a first date. Pretend we’ve just met and we still need to get to know each other.”

She stared at him, trying to decide if he was being sincere, then extended her right hand. “Hi, I’m Mara Stroebel. Pleased to meet you. I should warn you, you’re in for some unpleasant surprises.”

“Should I drop you off now, or are you going to take this seriously?”

“I’m taking it very seriously,” she said. “But what happened to ‘We’ll never be ready?’ I thought we were done.”

Now he gave her his full attention. “Are you done?”

“I didn’t have a choice! You were pretty clear in Vegas that you wanted out.”

“I thought I did.” He seemed lost in thought for a moment. “But then I had lunch with Alex. She had a lot to say about the importance of second chances.”

“Since when does Alex like me?”

“She doesn’t.” One corner of his mouth tugged up. “I do, though.”

This sudden, earnest declaration demolished what was left of her equanimity. “Well, I like you, too.”

“This whole marriage thing…” Josh continued, and her heart constricted. “…is a bad idea. We’re not ready. Not even close. I never should have proposed.”

Instead of being offended, Mara nodded and said, “I never should have said yes.”

“And the pre-nup definitely didn’t help.”

“Be honest, though. Our problems started way before the pre-nup.”

“Hang on a sec.” He slowed the car, pulled onto the shoulder of the residential road, and gave her his full attention.

“The real problem was the night in San Diego,” Mara said, watching the traffic pass. The outside world was business as usual, hectic and harried, but they were standing still. Getting ready to go into reverse, even. “San Diego ruined everything after.”

“If we hadn’t had problems to begin with, San Diego wouldn’t have happened.”

“But it did happen. And we can’t change that. So now we have no trust and no future.”

He reached across the console and took her hand. “Hence, the first date.”

They sat in silence, holding on to each other, letting go of their old defenses and expectations.

Finally, Mara ventured, “Well, then, since we just met and all, I should tell you that I don’t usually hop into cars with men I don’t know and let them spirit me away to undisclosed destinations.”

He put the car back in gear. “I predict that this time around, you’re going to be doing a lot of things you don’t usually do.”

“Ooh. Sounds kinky.”

Five minutes later, he parked in front of a residential building in Old Town Scottsdale. “Okay. We’re here.”

She looked around at the art galleries, jewelry boutiques, and salons flocking the building. “I thought you said we were having breakfast?”

“We are. Follow me.”

He led her through the building’s front doors, into the elevator, and up to the top floor.

Mara followed him, with growing trepidation. “Please tell me this isn’t Alex’s new apartment and she’s going to be serving us omelets and giving us relationship counseling.”

Josh ushered her down a corridor and opened a locked door to reveal a spacious, empty apartment with high ceilings, a wall of windows, and a view of the mountain range in the distance. Mara could smell the fresh paint still drying on the walls.

“After you.” He stepped back to let her inside.

She took a quick inventory of the vacant bedrooms, bathrooms, and airy living area. The modern, streamlined kitchen looked sterile and bare, except for a dewy silver bucket filled with ice, a carton of orange juice, and a bottle of champagne.

“What’s all this?” She crossed the living room to find a stack of flimsy paper cups and a box of Pop-Tarts tucked behind the champagne bucket.

“The question isn’t ‘What is this?’” Josh corrected. “The question is: ‘What could this potentially be?’”

She traced a bead of moisture as it trickled down the surface of the ice bucket. “Okay, then, what could it potentially be?”

“This could be our new apartment.”

She snapped to attention.

He nodded. “I put down a deposit to hold it until the end of the week. If you want to sign the lease, it’s ours.”

“How long is the lease?”

“Twelve months.”

Her brain buzzed with
if
s and
but
s and
why
s and
wherefore
s. “But what about my town house?”

“You’d have to sell it.”

“What about your apartment?”

“My lease is up at the end of the month.”

“You know, the last time we talked about moving in together, the end result was less than desirable.”

“That’s true. But we’re starting over, remember? Good thing we got all that closure.”

“Good thing.” And then she looked him in the eye and asked the scariest question of all. “What if things don’t work out between us?”

“It’s a possibility. No guarantees.”

She ripped open a packet of strawberry Pop-Tarts and nibbled off a corner. “I don’t make the same mistake twice.”

“I’m counting on it.”

He watched her and waited. She pondered and ate pastry.

Finally, she said, “I’m not exactly easy to live with.”

“No kidding.”

“I have some very annoying habits.”

He grinned. “Me, too.”

“You really want to give this another shot?”

“I do.”

“I do, too.” She grinned back. “Although, isn’t shacking up together moving a little fast for a first date?”

“That’s why we have to establish some ground rules.” Josh reached into his jacket pocket and produced a pen and notepad.

“Oh yeah?” She kissed him and prepared to negotiate. “What kind of ground rules are we talking about here?”

PRE
-Pre-Nuptial Agreement

Agreement between Mara (“Party 1”) and Josh (“Party 2”) as they enter into the state of blissful cohabitation. In consideration of the mutual promises in this Agreement, the parties agree to the following terms and conditions:

1. Party 2 shall not leave his beard shavings clinging to the bathroom sink every morning.

2. Party 1 shall not appropriate more than two (2) of Party 2’s T-shirts—without the express and uncoerced permission of Party 2—citing grounds that “they’re so much more comfortable than my pajamas.”

3. Party 1 shall not leave loads of clean clothes in the dryer after such time as the dry cycle has completed, thereby impeding Party 2’s laundry progress.

4. Party 2 shall not leave the tiny stickers peeled from fresh fruits on the kitchen counter, but shall instead place them directly in the trash receptacle.

5. Party 2 shall not interrogate Party 1 as to the extent and necessity of her clothes shopping excursions, and shall specifically avoid the phrase: “Do you really need
another
pair of black boots?”

6. In the event that either Party shall become ill, that Party shall wield full albeit temporary power over both the TiVo and remote control. (N.B.: Claims of illness shall not be exaggerated and/or wholly fabricated in an attempt to abuse this Agreement.)

7. Party 1 shall not subject Party 2 to the “ice cream bait-and-switch,” i.e., when Party 2 asks Party 1 if she would like him to pick up ice cream at the grocery store, Party 1 shall not respond “no” but then dig through the grocery bags as soon as Party 2 returns and demand ice cream. Similarly, Party 2 shall not formulate any “psychic grocery list” and expect Party 1 to divine that Party 2 used the last coffee filter but neglected to notify her.

8. All terms and conditions of this Agreement are subject to change at any time, for any reason, except for the following Paragraph, which must be upheld regardless of any other circumstance:

9. Both parties shall kiss the other good night, good morning, and good-bye. In good faith and in perpetuity.

Jen
Chapter
29

L
et’s keep this short and sweet.” Eric strode through the front door with the expression of a soldier about to go over the wall. He handed a stack of papers to Jen. “My attorney stuck Post-its everywhere you need to sign and initial. This is all just to get the ball rolling. He’s going to file a petition for the dissolution of marriage next week. There’s plenty more where this came from. We have to divvy up retirement accounts, health benefits, equity in the house, all that stuff.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Apparently, there’s a mandatory sixty-day waiting period before anything’s finalized, but the sooner we start, the sooner we’ll finish, right?” Eric rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. “Should be pretty cut-and-dried. I think we should just stick to the standard, no-fault party line.”

Jen’s head snapped up. “Well, of course. What other grounds would we have?”

Eric glanced away. “Oh, my lawyer kept yapping about ‘abandonment.’”

“Excuse me?” She slapped the documents down against her leg. “I’m not the one who’s out of town forty weeks a year on business. If anyone’s an abandoner here, it’s you!”

“
Emotional
abandonment,” he clarified, looking pained. “Forget I said anything.”

“For someone who wants to keep this short and sweet, you’re doing a horrible job,” Jen fumed. “And your lawyer sounds like a total—”

“That reminds me,” Eric interrupted. “Did you hire an attorney yet?”

She balled up her fist, crinkling the papers in her hand. “No. I haven’t even started looking.”

“Well. Could you please get on that?”

She forced herself to take the count of five to regroup, then said, “Would you like to know why I haven’t started looking yet?”

Panic flickered across his face. “Is this a trick question?”

“There’s something I need to tell you. About the company.”

Eric’s panic was instantly replaced by irritation. “Oh, right, the bill of sale. I’ll sign right now. Do you have a dollar?”

“The last time I saw you I was getting ready to go on the Rory Reid show, remember?”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “You did a great job.”

She paused. “You saw the interview?”

“I…Yeah.” His shoulders hunched down even farther. “So what?”

“I had no idea you were watching.”

“I TiVoed. Now you know.” He regained his air of impatience. “You were saying?”

“Well, apparently, you weren’t the only one watching because guess who came a-calling this morning? The evil empire.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You’re kidding. What did they want? Did you wake up with a big, bloodstained case of diet cola and a threatening note in the fridge?”

Jen wrinkled her nose. “What? No.”

“Sorry. Bad
Godfather
reference.”

“Okay, well, if we’re talking
Godfather,
let me put it this way: They made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.” She waited for him to play along, but he just looked sort of stunned. “They want to buy Noda. For an obscene amount of money.”

He smiled at her conspiratorially. “Right. Like you’d really sell your brainchild to the evil empire.”

“That’s exactly what I said.” She folded the papers in her hand, creasing the documents into smaller and smaller squares. “And then I started thinking.”

“About what?”

“About a vacation.” She took a short, tentative step toward him. “Do you know how many times we said we should go somewhere and never did?”

“A lot.” He opened his hands to indicate infinity.

She risked another tiny step. “So I was thinking, if you added up all the vacations we never took, it’d be like a year’s worth of travel.”

He shrugged. “Sounds about right.”

She sighed and surrendered her last scrap of pride. “What if I sold my company and you quit your job?”

He shook his head and backed away from her. “Jen, come on. Be realistic. You would never sell out to the evil empire.”

“But if I did…”

“But you wouldn’t! We both know why they want to buy it from you. They’ll tear up the formula and Noda will be dead and buried. They didn’t make billions of dollars by helping people wean themselves off their soda addictions.”

“Indulge me for a minute. Imagine Noda is no more,” Jen insisted. “I’m idle and unemployed. You’re idle and unemployed. Now what?”

“I’m not following.”

“What do we do now that we’re idle and unemployed and totally burned out on corporate life?”

“I don’t know.” He scratched his chin. “Nothing?”

She shook her head.
“Everything.”

They locked gazes.

“I have lots of new ideas. Lots of things I want to do. Travel, learn to sail, plant a garden.”

The panic returned to his eyes, but now it was tempered with hope. “Why are you torturing me?”

“I’m not!”

“You are. I’m trying to get out of this with the little shred of self-respect I have left, and you”—he swallowed hard—“are torturing me.”

“I’m just proposing that we put our mandatory sixty-day waiting period to good use,” she said. “As long as we’re still legally married, we should make the most of it.”

He retreated farther and raised his forearms to ward her off. “Take the house. Take the company. Take every last penny in our bank account. I don’t care about any of it.”

“I don’t care about any of it, either. I just want one more chance with you.”

“You. Me. Torturing.”

“I did some investigating, and word on the street is that baseball season is starting up soon.” She smiled. “Turns out, spring training is happening right now.”

“I’m aware.”

“So I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of going a little crazy with the credit card.” She raced into her office, grabbed a pile of glossy brochures off her desk, and raced back to the foyer.

“We’re going on a baseball junket. First, spring training right here and in Florida. Then, when the regular season starts, we’ll hit Wrigley Field, Fenway, Dodger Stadium…wherever. And stay at five-star luxury resorts in every city, because, you know, a girl needs spa treatments and yoga. We can even check out the Hall of Fame in, uh”—she glanced down to consult her brochures—“Cooperstown, New York.” She laced her hands together and tilted her face up toward his. “So what do you say? Road trip?”

“Let me get this straight,” Eric said. “
You
want to spend weeks at a time watching baseball?”

“I want to spend weeks at a time with you. We have a lot of catching up to do.” She winked. “Besides, the baseball junket is only the beginning.”

“And we’ll just stop working?” He seemed flummoxed at the prospect. “Just like that?”

“We have plenty in savings. Besides, we can always make more money.” She glanced down in a display of false modesty. “I don’t mean to brag, but I’m kind of an entrepreneurial genius.”

He finally started to smile back.

“Let’s blow this town and see the world,” she urged. “All those places we talked about.” And then, her coup de grâce: “Although, considering all the torrid sex we’ll be having, I’m not sure we’ll have much time for sightseeing.”

He groaned. “Again with the torturing?”

“Baby, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

“I should probably say no.”

“Hey.” She licked her lips. “If you want to turn down all that baseball and torrid sex, I can’t stop you.”

He watched her licking her lips. “I’ll give my two weeks’ notice tomorrow.”

“Excellent. And when we finally come back home, we’ll start a new company. Together. With a support staff and an office not in our house and mandatory weekends off. We can use all the Noda profits for start-up money. Well, all of it except what I already promised I’d invest in an up-and-coming small business.”

“What type of business?”

Jen started to laugh. “It’s a funny story, actually…”