Page 3 of Ruthless Devotion
“Yes. Your daughter for your life… and for sparing both your daughter and your wife the creative ways I could take this money out of them if you choose not to cooperate.”
Albert has artlessly gotten off the ground and into his swivel chair. It creaks under his weight and spins him halfway around. He corrects the spin so that he’s looking at me. “What exactly are you demanding, Mr. Stryker?”
I pull a thick cream-colored envelope out of my front vest pocket and place it on the desk in front of him.
His hands shake as he breaks the gold wax seal and slides out the engraved wedding invitation. Albert stares at the invitation for a full minute. “I-I’ll have to discuss this with my wife,” he says, as though he’s in any position to negotiate.
“A corpse can’t have discussions, Mr. Prescott. I’m going to need your consent now or the deal is off. Give me your daughter’s hand in marriage, and I will erase your debt.”
“I can’t just…”
“You can and you must,” I say. “I will take very good care of her. She will want for nothing. I will protect her. The church and reception venue are booked. The florist, the cake. The wedding planner. I’ve taken care of everything. I just need you and your family and your lovely daughter at the church in three months. I will cover the wedding dress as well if you send me the bill once she’s picked something out. Anything she wants. It’s been a while since she’s been able to buy anything she wants, hasn’t it, Mr. Prescott?”
This shames him enough that he finally relents.
I nod. “Good. I’ll see you all on the fourteenth of June. Don’t be late.”
Two
Maddie
“Stay on the phone with me,” Erica says. She’s been my best friend since first grade, and she was overprotective back then, too.
“I can’t. I’m running out of battery, and what if I need it?”
“You have to. It’s not safe out there.”
If she could pick me up, she would, but she’s literally on the other side of the world on vacation right now, lying on a beach drinking Mai Tais. Our worlds have seriously diverted down different paths.
She’s right. I shouldn’t be walking in the city this late at night. I shouldn’t have been out tonight at all if we’re being really honest. I didn’t even like Mike. But I haven’t been on a date in six months, and I know my parents just want me to find some nice financially secure guy to take me off their hands—even though I’m helping them.
It’s been really hard since the IRS took all our stuff. I’m so angry at my father for not paying his taxes my entire damn life and longer. It didn’t have to be this way. One of the few things we have left is my trust fund. But until I’m thirty, I only have access to a three-thousand dollar monthly distribution, which doesn’t go far for three people trying to keep the lights on in our neighborhood. It was tense for a while but after a long investigation it was determined that my trust hadn’t been used to hide assets, it was set up properly, and being mine, couldn’t be taken away.
My father still has his income, but so much of it is being garnished by the government that very little of it is trickling back to us. Of all of us, I have the most access to money even though it’s not nearly enough.
Erica offered to let me move in with her for a while, and I should probably do that, but I can’t just leave my family in the lurch. And I can’t sponge off of my friend.
I’m sure I can turn my fine arts degree into something that pays me money. But Art History is the kind of degree you can really only directly use to teach Art History. Most of the jobs I could get to help out are not the kind of jobs someone in my social class works. And if I got one of those jobs, the cat would be out of the bag and everyone in our social circle would know something has gone very wrong, and the truth could come out. I can’t expose my family like that, so here I am. I technically “have” money, but it’s all locked up in the legal set-up of the trust.
The plan was always to use college for enrichment and then I was going to take a few years off to find myself or whatever and start a business. Dad would have been able to float me a loan to start it… hell maybe even a gift if he thought my business plan was sound, but just before I could really settle on something, the IRS swooped in. And then it was an endless parade of questions and accusations and confiscations.
The past year has been a nightmare.
For the first time we’re pinching pennies. I have to question if I can afford even the littlest things now. I used to never have to look at the price of anything. A thousand dollar pair of shoes? I barely knew how much they cost. I had only the vaguest sense of how much a thousand dollars even was. It all felt like Monopoly money to me. I just put it on the card and knew it would be taken care of. Now I have to waffle over the cost of a small frozen yogurt that I can only have as a treat once a week.
I wish I still had my Ferrari. I loved that car. It was a gift from my father when I graduated from Vassar. I wish I still had access to a driver. That was for sure convenient. If I did I wouldn’t be walking on this questionable street right now.
I should have called an Uber, but I used all my cash to pay my half of dinner on a bad date with a guy who not only made lewd suggestions all night about how he expected things to end, but couldn’t even pick up the bill. He said he thought I was a modern woman, so I don’t need daddy or anybody else to pay for me.
On the one hand this probably means that word about our finances hasn’t gotten out yet. The people at our financial institutions have been very discreet, but the first domino will fall soon. Our country club annual membership is coming due in a few weeks, and they’ll notice when the $40,000 check doesn’t clear. Word is beginning to spread that we’re relocating. It’s the explanation for our house being up for sale. I don’t know what that means for my father’s business. He doesn’t talk about it. I don’t want to relocate. This is my home. This is my city. And my best friend is here. But I’m genuinely concerned my parents can’t make it right now without me.
Maybe Mike does know about my financial situation and thought he could use it to control me. After all, in my circles you pick up the tab. It’s the classy thing to do, and you’ve got it so why wouldn’t you? The only way Mike wouldn’t be paying for my dinner is… if he knew. Right? Was he trying to squeeze some kind of confession out of me?
So many people think I’m just some mean girl, but every social aspect of life is brutal when you come from a family like mine. Everything is a draconian hierarchy and people are just waiting for you to fall so they can claim the spoils. It’s medieval really. But I was never mean… at least not since high school. Just… guarded.
What did I expect of Mike? I knew how he was in his frat. I was a member of their sister sorority after all. I’ve seen things. Did I expect he’d just magically become a decent human in the last five years?
I don’t know… I thought he’d grow up. Like I did. Doesn’t everyone, eventually?
