Chapter 11

Marj went up to the bedroom and called Brandon on Facetime.

“So how was consorting with the enemy?” he greeted her.

“We had breakfast together. She’s lonely,” Marj said by way of excuse.

“Probably because she’s evil. I guarantee that woman has a designer voodoo doll with a scrap of my hair glued to it somewhere in that mansion.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” she said.

“Don’t tell me she’s taken you in too. Please don’t tell her the circumstances of our marriage.”

“I haven’t told her a thing. And I have to admit, she kind of blackmailed me into going. But I saved two people’s jobs. So I guess it was worth it.”

“Was it the women you roomed with in Vegas?”

“Yes.”

“Honey, they were caught stealing.”

“Or the Wicked Queen framed them. I don’t know. But I know they didn’t do it. So give them their jobs back.”

“If Lena said she was helping them, then I’m sure she pulled strings. Now, what went on in the queen’s evil lair?”

“It was breakfast. And not in a dark lair. She did a lot of speculation and she commiserated a little.”

“Commiserated as in you’re miserable?”

“Commiserated as in she was once married to a Cates workaholic, and so am I,” she said bitterly.

“There’s nothing to be miserable about. Your husband has a job that could give you anything you so desire.”

“Money is not everything,” she said. “There’s so much more to life than that. And I just want you to see you’re missing out on what makes life truly worth living.”

“I’m extremely driven,” he said.

“The best parts of life aren’t found in the boardroom. When you look back on your life, will you really be happy you spent more time at work and less time with the people you love? Not likely.”

“You never dreamed about being swept away by a dashing billionaire,” he teased.

“What girl doesn’t? But it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

“Maybe you should look into more volunteer work. You were happier when you worked with the kids.”

“You’re right. Sitting around here is getting boring,” she said. “Although, Paul is booking me all up with cocktail parties and fancy luncheons. Soon, I’ll be missing all my time here.”

“You don’t have to sit there, although the place isn’t exactly lacking in amenities, you must admit.”

“My gilded cage is lovely,” she said. “Thank you.”

“It’s midcentury modern,” he said, an effort to make her smile. She didn’t crack even a smirk. His face filled her phone screen, clearly frustrated that his repair attempt had failed.

“It’s completely unfair that you’re so gorgeous even when you’re a pain in the ass,” she mused, trying to muster her old teasing demeanor with him, the one she’d used to keep him at arm’s length until she had accidentally fallen in love with him.

“Remember that when Tinder beckons.”

“I’m off Tinder. Shut down my profile and everything. So you can quit needling me about that one time I went off the rails,” she said.

“I feel like there should be a celebration...What’s the name for the observance when your wife finally cancels her dating profiles?”

“I think it’s officially called getting your ass home from Dubai,” she deadpanned.

“Speaking of asses, Dubai is a pain in mine right now. These guys do not want to honor the terms of our deal. Also, they put curry in absolutely everything. Your omelet sounds like heaven by comparison.”

“Are you whining about the first-class accommodations in Dubai?” she asked. “Some people would love to get the food you’re blessed with.”

“The curry is truly in everything here.”

“The green tea ice cream was, as I recall, fabulous.”

“There’s probably curry in that, too,” he said.

“You’re a total wimp. I don’t know why I bother missing you.”

“Thick wrists,” he said with a cheeky grin.

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t know since your wrists are seldom home.”

“I’m going to try to do better with the scheduling. Make it home at least once a week for dinner, take a day off on the weekends.”

“Wow! I might see you for an entire day? A seventh of your waking hours each week? That’s, wow, like fourteen point two percent of your time! Hashtag ‘spoiled wife,’” she said.

“Snarktastic after that omelet, aren’t we?”

“Absolutely. So the deal is, I’m not happy being canceled on and ignored. I get that the whole arrangement was about your business and your needs and your convenience, but I’m a person too, and I have agency. I have chosen to throw my lot in with you, and I will not accept the table scraps. You can make time to show up for me. No excuses. You don’t tell the board of directors that you’re too busy, so don’t tell me that either. I’m knitted to your soul. Just ask Elvis.”

He laughed.

She loved hearing his glorious laugh.

“It isn’t that easy,” he said. “If you’d be reasonable for a second, you’d realize that I’m not ignoring you, I’m trying to strike a delicate balance between the demands of my job and my personal life.”

“Best I can tell, your job IS your personal life, and your professional life, and everything else. Your spirituality and self-actualization and probably your sexual preference.”

“I think we’ve established my sexual preference pretty clearly. If you’re confused about it...”

“Then I should call your secretary and make an appointment? Because that’s next. A standing lunch meeting with me. An established dinner at home or dinner out once a week. With me. Not me AND some business associates so you can sneak in a meeting. Just the two of us. And one day on the weekend. Minimum. Two weekday meals plus one weekend day with no conference calls, Skypes, or meetings. Those are my terms, and they’re very generous. I haven’t asked you to change the hours you keep, be home before midnight, nothing like that. I’m asking for a couple of hours twice a week, and one day. It may not amount to much, but it’s necessary to maintain what we have.”

“I’ll think about it and refer to my schedule, see what can be done. I expect some weeks I can manage that, while others, due to travel or pending deals, I wouldn’t be able to meet those terms.”

“Is that what you tell Dubai? That you may or may not be able to keep to your terms depending upon what week it is? Bullshit, Brandon. You’re hedging because you don’t want to commit. News flash: you already committed. In Las Vegas. So you’re going to have to make a real, tangible effort to have a relationship with me EVERY SINGLE FUCKING WEEK, or we might as well call it quits and let Lena have it all. I no longer much care who gets the company. It’s a thorn in my side, which is the only thing I may ever agree on with your stepmother. Power Regions is a selfish bitch.”

He laughed. “What?”

“You heard me. Your company? Your dad’s legacy? Total soul-sucking nightmare bitch from hell. It takes more of your time, your heart, and soul than I’ll ever have.”

“You cannot listen to Lena. She’s melodramatic. Always has been. I’d hate to see that rub off on you.”

“I’d hate to see you get all patronizing, but I just did. I think I mentioned once that Power Regions was such a phallic name. But I’m thinking now it’s more of a dominatrix, a stern mistress who won’t let you go.”

“Ha, ha.”

“Ah, condescension, my old friend,” she said acidly, “but the truth is you can’t resist beating your head against a wall, like this pointless Dubai excursion, to try and prove to the board that you’re at least twice the man your father was. And whether you are or you’re not, this will take our marriage down. And any other relationship you have that’s any more serious than the one with your dry cleaner.”

“You’re just full of wisdom today. Maybe get some sleep, get in a better mood, I’ll call you later.”

“I don’t have an appointment, so you’ll forgive me if I don’t hold my breath waiting for you to call me.”

“If I say I’ll call, I always call. Don’t act like I’m unreliable. I’m out here working to build a better life for us and—”

“Save the martyr routine, babe. You have money, plenty of it. The company’s already huge. You’re trying to prove yourself to someone, maybe the ghost of your disapproving father. I don’t know, but it sure as hell isn’t something you’re doing for my benefit.”

“I work. I have a job. I’m not going to apologize for it.”

“I’m going to find someplace to volunteer. I expect to hear tonight which days we’ll be scheduling lunch and supper each week. I want a standing date. None of this Tuesday one week, Thursday the next. We can set a time and both work around it.”

“You’re not being reasonable.”

“You’re trying to weasel out of spending time with me. Just set it up. You make time to get your hair cut. You make time to eat and work out. Make this part of your routine. Nonnegotiable.”

“Are you sure you were in marketing and not legal?”

“Positive.”

He grinned as she smiled. They said goodbye and she hung up, her screen freezing on an image of his handsome face.