her nerves. The last thing she wanted was for her best friend to try and murder her groom.
For some reason the mental image that created had her smiling as she stepped off the elevator and moved toward Stanley’s office. She was surprised to see that Vincent was already there when the receptionist ushered her into the attorney’s well appointed office.
“Miss Broulliard, come in.” Stanley gestured to one of the wing chairs in front of his desk. “Vincent and I were just discussing the agreement and what sort of arrangements he wished to make.”
“There are no arrangements,” Ophelia replied. “What is Vincent’s remains Vincent’s and what is mine, what little there is of it, remains mine.”
Stanley paused and gave her a hard stare. “You do realize how wealthy Vincent is, don’t you?”
“I was Thomas’ personal assistant before I was his caretaker. I’m very aware of just how wealthy the DuChamps family is,” she replied, offended by the implication that she was somehow stupid for not being greedy.
“Ophelia,” Vincent said softly, “Stanley is not handling this well. For the next year, you won’t have a job. When we divorce, I don’t want you to have to go back to working for someone else or having to worry about money.”
“I don’t want your money,” she insisted.
“Well, I’m not proposing to give you my money. I’m proposing to give you some of Thomas’ money. Lord knows you earned it. He probably expected me to do this and that’s why he didn’t make any other provisions for you in his will.”
“I’m very uncomfortable with this,” she stressed.
“It’s not a huge amount of money, Ophelia. Honestly, a lot of our cash is tied up in the business right now.”
Ophelia closed her eyes. Vincent’s idea of not a lot of money would be very different from hers. “Is it six figures?”
“There are at least six figures in it,” Vincent agreed, keeping his expression completely neutral.
“Vincent, I don’t want this—I don’t want money and I don’t want to be seen as some gold-digging, opportunistic—”
“No one who knows you, will ever see you that way. I know you aren’t that way, but Ophelia, we’re taking a year of your life. A year of having to put everything you want to do on hold. Thomas should’ve provided for you and made sure that you were going to be okay.”
The statement was emphatic, more animated than she’d seen Vincent in days. It was as if he knew she wouldn’t agree initially to a settlement at the dissolution of their marriage, and would balk at the idea of taking what she would perceive to be charity.
She realized then that he was angry at Thomas, not just for the will, not for the managing and manipulation, but because he’d died—because he was gone. “Just let me sign before I change my mind,” she acquiesced.
Stanley placed the contract in front of her, with tiny flags indicating where she should initial and sign. It was all fairly straight forward until she got the part where it discussed the dollar amount of the settlement she would receive upon their divorce. “Five million? Are you insane?”
“No. That’s a very small portion of Thomas’ estate. I wanted to make it more but I knew you wouldn’t take it,” he replied. “Sign the damn papers!”
“Vincent, I’m not doing this for the money!” she protested, horrified at the thought.
“I never thought you were,” he fired back. “But if you don’t marry me, then everyone in the family will be broke, except for Claude! Five million is reasonable compensation for everything you’re doing for us. You don’t want this, you sure as hell don’t want to be married to me—not for a day, not for a year. This is fair, Ophelia.”
It wasn’t, not really. It was far too much, but she knew that he wouldn’t budge on it. She also knew that five million dollars
For some reason the mental image that created had her smiling as she stepped off the elevator and moved toward Stanley’s office. She was surprised to see that Vincent was already there when the receptionist ushered her into the attorney’s well appointed office.
“Miss Broulliard, come in.” Stanley gestured to one of the wing chairs in front of his desk. “Vincent and I were just discussing the agreement and what sort of arrangements he wished to make.”
“There are no arrangements,” Ophelia replied. “What is Vincent’s remains Vincent’s and what is mine, what little there is of it, remains mine.”
Stanley paused and gave her a hard stare. “You do realize how wealthy Vincent is, don’t you?”
“I was Thomas’ personal assistant before I was his caretaker. I’m very aware of just how wealthy the DuChamps family is,” she replied, offended by the implication that she was somehow stupid for not being greedy.
“Ophelia,” Vincent said softly, “Stanley is not handling this well. For the next year, you won’t have a job. When we divorce, I don’t want you to have to go back to working for someone else or having to worry about money.”
“I don’t want your money,” she insisted.
“Well, I’m not proposing to give you my money. I’m proposing to give you some of Thomas’ money. Lord knows you earned it. He probably expected me to do this and that’s why he didn’t make any other provisions for you in his will.”
“I’m very uncomfortable with this,” she stressed.
“It’s not a huge amount of money, Ophelia. Honestly, a lot of our cash is tied up in the business right now.”
Ophelia closed her eyes. Vincent’s idea of not a lot of money would be very different from hers. “Is it six figures?”
“There are at least six figures in it,” Vincent agreed, keeping his expression completely neutral.
“Vincent, I don’t want this—I don’t want money and I don’t want to be seen as some gold-digging, opportunistic—”
“No one who knows you, will ever see you that way. I know you aren’t that way, but Ophelia, we’re taking a year of your life. A year of having to put everything you want to do on hold. Thomas should’ve provided for you and made sure that you were going to be okay.”
The statement was emphatic, more animated than she’d seen Vincent in days. It was as if he knew she wouldn’t agree initially to a settlement at the dissolution of their marriage, and would balk at the idea of taking what she would perceive to be charity.
She realized then that he was angry at Thomas, not just for the will, not for the managing and manipulation, but because he’d died—because he was gone. “Just let me sign before I change my mind,” she acquiesced.
Stanley placed the contract in front of her, with tiny flags indicating where she should initial and sign. It was all fairly straight forward until she got the part where it discussed the dollar amount of the settlement she would receive upon their divorce. “Five million? Are you insane?”
“No. That’s a very small portion of Thomas’ estate. I wanted to make it more but I knew you wouldn’t take it,” he replied. “Sign the damn papers!”
“Vincent, I’m not doing this for the money!” she protested, horrified at the thought.
“I never thought you were,” he fired back. “But if you don’t marry me, then everyone in the family will be broke, except for Claude! Five million is reasonable compensation for everything you’re doing for us. You don’t want this, you sure as hell don’t want to be married to me—not for a day, not for a year. This is fair, Ophelia.”
It wasn’t, not really. It was far too much, but she knew that he wouldn’t budge on it. She also knew that five million dollars
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