fun.” As he casually began to undress, he began. “Tomorrow, William is meeting with the top family law guy in Marin County, regarding a prenuptial agreement, and I know what he’s going to present to you. If you want to know more, let’s talk about it between the sheets.”
Willow was annoyed. But being ever practical, she decided to take Finch back in her arms, at least this one last time.
As she anticipated, his lustful intentions were played out quickly.
Stroking his chest while imaging she was closing her hands around his neck, she said, “Now tell me what you know, James.”
“Sure. It was our arrangement, so here it is: William is going to ask you to sign a prenup that tops you out at two-hundred and fifty million dollars.”
Most anyone would have smiled with delight over such an offer, but Willow was far from being just anyone.
“That’s not going to work,” she said in a soft but determined tone.
“I thought you would say that,” James said, with barely disguised delight.
“Anything else?”
“Yes. I miss you terribly.”
She responded with a shrug. “Continue proving yourself to be of some value, and perhaps we’ll have another play date.” She dressed quickly while James scrolled through the text messages on his phone.
“No kiss goodbye?” he asked, as Willow moved toward the door.
She considered how it would please her to take a small gun from her purse and shoot him between the eyes. For Willow, that brief moment of fantasy had been the best part of her afternoon.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Once home, Willow mixed herself a drink—a cold glass of sherry and water over ice—and contemplated what she would say when William broached the topic of a prenuptial agreement.
With a man of his fantastic wealth, she’d never imagined that the wedding day would come and go without the topic being raised. But as the day grew nearer and William stayed mum on the topic, she toyed with the idea of half of his worth becoming hers; that on the day of his death, she’d find herself one the world’s wealthiest individuals.
The very thought made her tingle from head to toe.
No doubt about it, two hundred and fifty million dollars was an impressive sum. But for someone who dreamed of wealth beyond imagining, no figure in the millions had quite the exciting feel of a personal fortune in the billions.
Willow put her finger into her drink and stirred it slowly as she considered her next move. Whenever uncertain, she returned to the advice that her father gave her when she found herself in trouble with one of her high school girlfriends because of flirting with their boyfriend or taking something that did not belong to her: “The best defense is a good offense.”
If I wait for him to raise the subject, I’m back on my heels, she reasoned. But if I raise it, then I’m the one looking out for his interests.
William had known Bob Ivan for a very long time. He’d taken a tax law course from him when he was at Berkley. As a litigator, he was a legend in Marin County. At the same time, he was a rare bird who didn’t quite fit into the modern age.
He worked out of a small office, with only one secretary and a law clerk. At the advanced age of eighty, he worked harder and smarter than lawyers half his age. Unlike the new generation of specialists, Bob worked many areas of the law, from tax to family to property.
In fact, for many years, he had worked for the town of Tiburon as its municipal attorney.
“William, how in the world did it not occur to you that you would need a prenup?” Ivan asked, as he brushed an unruly mane of snow-white hair out of his eyes.
When Bob’s electric blue eyes stared in your direction, you inevitably felt compelled to speak the plain truth. William was no exception. “I know it sounds idiotic, Bob. But I’ve been so enthralled with Willow that I didn’t give it a thought!”
“What did you say her name was?”
“It’s Willow
Willow was annoyed. But being ever practical, she decided to take Finch back in her arms, at least this one last time.
As she anticipated, his lustful intentions were played out quickly.
Stroking his chest while imaging she was closing her hands around his neck, she said, “Now tell me what you know, James.”
“Sure. It was our arrangement, so here it is: William is going to ask you to sign a prenup that tops you out at two-hundred and fifty million dollars.”
Most anyone would have smiled with delight over such an offer, but Willow was far from being just anyone.
“That’s not going to work,” she said in a soft but determined tone.
“I thought you would say that,” James said, with barely disguised delight.
“Anything else?”
“Yes. I miss you terribly.”
She responded with a shrug. “Continue proving yourself to be of some value, and perhaps we’ll have another play date.” She dressed quickly while James scrolled through the text messages on his phone.
“No kiss goodbye?” he asked, as Willow moved toward the door.
She considered how it would please her to take a small gun from her purse and shoot him between the eyes. For Willow, that brief moment of fantasy had been the best part of her afternoon.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Once home, Willow mixed herself a drink—a cold glass of sherry and water over ice—and contemplated what she would say when William broached the topic of a prenuptial agreement.
With a man of his fantastic wealth, she’d never imagined that the wedding day would come and go without the topic being raised. But as the day grew nearer and William stayed mum on the topic, she toyed with the idea of half of his worth becoming hers; that on the day of his death, she’d find herself one the world’s wealthiest individuals.
The very thought made her tingle from head to toe.
No doubt about it, two hundred and fifty million dollars was an impressive sum. But for someone who dreamed of wealth beyond imagining, no figure in the millions had quite the exciting feel of a personal fortune in the billions.
Willow put her finger into her drink and stirred it slowly as she considered her next move. Whenever uncertain, she returned to the advice that her father gave her when she found herself in trouble with one of her high school girlfriends because of flirting with their boyfriend or taking something that did not belong to her: “The best defense is a good offense.”
If I wait for him to raise the subject, I’m back on my heels, she reasoned. But if I raise it, then I’m the one looking out for his interests.
William had known Bob Ivan for a very long time. He’d taken a tax law course from him when he was at Berkley. As a litigator, he was a legend in Marin County. At the same time, he was a rare bird who didn’t quite fit into the modern age.
He worked out of a small office, with only one secretary and a law clerk. At the advanced age of eighty, he worked harder and smarter than lawyers half his age. Unlike the new generation of specialists, Bob worked many areas of the law, from tax to family to property.
In fact, for many years, he had worked for the town of Tiburon as its municipal attorney.
“William, how in the world did it not occur to you that you would need a prenup?” Ivan asked, as he brushed an unruly mane of snow-white hair out of his eyes.
When Bob’s electric blue eyes stared in your direction, you inevitably felt compelled to speak the plain truth. William was no exception. “I know it sounds idiotic, Bob. But I’ve been so enthralled with Willow that I didn’t give it a thought!”
“What did you say her name was?”
“It’s Willow
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