Page 72

For a second, I didn’t understand him.

“No.”

My father looked at me with the patience he usually reserved for clients who thought they understood the market because they’d read the business section over breakfast.

“Paul, you haven’t heard what I’m saying.”

“I’ve heard enough.”

He sat down again and opened the folder.

“Lorrie has a substantial trust she’ll come into when she marries or turns twenty-five.”

“I’ve heard.”

Admitting it aloud made the whole thing feel dirtier than it had when the information had first come to me months ago.

I didn’t know the amount. Walter had never told me, and as far as I could tell, Lorrie hadn’t know about the trust. But everyone in our circle knew the Hales were wealthy, and my father had mentioned the trust over lunch one afternoon in the spring as casually as he might have mentioned the weather.

At the time, I hadn’t thought much of it. The Hales had money. We had money. Their daughter was dating his son. Our families knew one another and moved in the same circles, and all of that had seemed more reassuring than suspicious.

Alan tapped the folder.

“Once you’re married, there are ways those assets could support your household without touching the principal.”

“Her assets.”

He shook his head. “Your household’s assets.”

“We aren’t married.”

“You will be.”

“You don’t know that.” The words came out before I’d decided to say them, and the look on his face told me how strange they sounded coming from me.

Until a week ago, I probably would have thought they sounded strange too.

Everyone had assumed the dinner on Friday would end with a ring on Lorrie’s hand, including me. I’d even bought the ring. It had all moved forward with so little resistance that I’d mistaken momentum for certainty.

Then Lorrie started asking questions. Would I stay in Madison if she wanted to? Could she keep working? What if she didn’t want to move to Cleveland? What if she didn’t want a proposal in front of everyone?

Every time, I told her we could talk about it, and each time I heard the words leave my mouth I became more aware that I’d spent most of the summer acting as though there was nothing left to discuss.

My father leaned back in his chair.

“She will be your wife, her money will be yours to use as you see fit.”

I walked back to the desk and put both hands on the edge.

“You’re not using her money to cover these problems.”

His expression hardened. “Don’t be naive.”

“I’m not.”

“Then stop pretending marriage has nothing to do with finance. It always has. Property. Inheritance. Business interests. Families. You think Walter Hale doesn’t understand that?”

“I don’t care what he understands.”