Godsend Ch. 03 – Opium and Toys

And what was I? Perhaps an entitled, powerful bitch. I proved it by abandoning Scott when his parents died, so I could party with David. I proved it again by sneaking away from David so I could enjoy a fling with Scott. But destroy the economy of a city to help my love life? Not even I was as cold-blooded as my husband. By getting him the job at Vestry, I enabled his ruthlessness. I had to make amends.

I also had to make supper. David was a finicky eater, often complaining when I served him "kiddie food" such as macaroni and cheese, tuna casserole, or pizza. I put David, Vestry, and the economic future of a city out of my mind, and went to the kitchen. I pulled out a can of tuna, a can of mushroom soup, and put some brown rice up to cook. For the moment I was what I aspired to be: an ordinary middle-class housewife, looking after her family.

I finished the vacuuming before the carpool brought Luke and Mia home. I emptied their backpacks, spoke approvingly of the pictures they drew, fed them tuna casserole, bathed them, and got them into bed.

"Where's daddy?" Luke asked. "I want to tell him about my soccer practice."

David loved taking the children to their sporting activities: swimming, soccer... I joined them occasionally, but it wasn't my cup of tea. I was going to have to get a new bathing suit. Mia had to be accompanied in the water by a parent.

"Daddy's on his way to India. Remember, when he said goodbye to you this morning, he said he's going to be away for a few months."

"Will he be back for my next game?"

What I told David was true: our children were too young to understand two months as an abstract concept. My husband might be an asshole or even a sociopath, but he was a devoted father. "No, honey. He won't be back before your season is over."

Luke started to sniffle. I spoke soothing words, caressed his head, his arms, calming him down. He soon fell asleep, and I went to the kitchen to prepare their lunches for tomorrow. It was my turn to do carpool, so I had to have everything ready beforehand.

One of the carpool families was never ready on time, raising the tension of what should be a simple drive. I made sure all the kids had their backpacks as they exited the car, and kissed mine as they walked into the school building. A text on my phone confirmed that David had arrived, and was being taken to his apartment. The message included the number of a new cell phone he could use to call the US. I had to pretend not to have it until David provided it; I presumed I would hear from him soon. Calls to his local office would automatically be forwarded to him in New Delhi, but I wanted my husband to reach out to me first.

He didn't call. It must have been exhaustion, jet lag, or the demands of settling into his new office and assignment. He didn't even phone to say goodnight to the children. Once again, I had to soothe Luke to get him to sleep.

The next morning, after seeing the kids off I verified that my husband was at his new office. Rather than teach David to "harmonize" his modus operandi, we set him to work on his real strength: locating new investments. Uncle Rahul was confident that India was quickly becoming one of the world's strongest economies.

I had a bit of trouble finding the changing room and showers for the children's after-school swimming lessons. Their father was always the one who brought them. Surely this evening David could have found the motivation to call his children, if not his wife. Nobody in New Delhi was putting any pressure on him. We both knew he had the time and the technology to reach his family. Luke didn't even ask for his father that night. Exhausted from their exercise, Luke and Mia were both asleep by eight.

I was getting fed up. I had an important meeting tomorrow, and I wanted to know where David and I were heading. To a divorce was clear. Would it be friendly, hostile, all-out war? Did David expect joint custody or not? If he loved me as he said, he would call me.

I stayed up till midnight, then called his office. It was prime business hours in New Delhi. When I identified myself to the receptionist she said Mr. Harmon was busy and would call me back. I pressed her on "when," but she would only commit to a vague "later this week." I went to bed antsy; I was used to being in charge. My husband needed to be controlled; look what he did to Darcy Pierce Industries when I wasn't paying attention. Surely my billions should be able to handle him.

I kept odd hours as a 'freelance business consultant,' sharing office space with a lawyer, an accountant, a software developer and some others. I wasn't there often enough to keep track. Given that I was my principal client, I went downtown only when required. Today I had the need, and had advised the receptionist to set up the small conference room for four people.

A reluctant-looking Scott Pierce walked in, accompanied by his banker and attorney. The receptionist took everybody's orders for coffee and closed the door behind her. Scott paid some attention to her ass as she left, but I didn't let that distract me.

I addressed the banker. "Fifth Chartered Bank of Singapore has expressed an interest in putting up the Letter of Credit you require, in exchange for a future dividend."

"A Letter of Credit for how much," the banker asked.

"The whole amount. If specified dividends don't commence within three years, Fifth Chartered has the right to take over Darcy Pierce Industries simply by giving notice thereof."

The banker looked like he had won the lottery. He had, actually. The Letter of Credit meant he would face little risk as Pierce's banker.

"How much is the specified dividend?" Scott looked grim.

"Send me your Pro-forma business plan going forward three years. I'll forward it to Fifth Chartered."

"How long will it take to get a response?"

"I have a good relationship with the principals there. If the business plan is clear and reasonable, I should have an answer for you within a couple of weeks. The lawyers will take that long to iron out the documentation anyways."

His attorney fiddled with the gems on her necklace. They looked elegant, contrasted with her grey hair. Her clothes spoke of a successful career. "Mrs. Harmon, this is truly amazing. The other parties we contacted wanted to effectively take over the business through shares, options, Board seats and the like. Your investor is willing to let Mr. Pierce run with his business. I can assure you Mr. Pierce's parents would be proud of what you two are accomplishing. You've come a long way since you clutched Scott's hand on our flight to Florida."

I realized the attorney was a long-term friend of Scott's parents, whom I had met many times as a little girl. So much for pretending this was an arms-length transaction. "I've looked at Mr. Pierce's record. A cursory glimpse shows him to be a failure. That's not correct. My people have researched the matter thoroughly, and I have faith in him. Mr. Pierce, how long will it take you to get us the Pro-forma?" Scott looked like he was on the verge of tears. Was it from the joy that I saved his business, or was it from unhappiness, that I saved his business?

"A week, maybe two."

I handed him my business card. "Call me, and I'll clarify what Fifth Chartered wants in the Pro-forma." He nodded, stuffing the card in his pocket. We all shook hands. Two of the visitors left with big smiles; Scott looked defeated.

I was parking at the grocery on my way home when Scott called. I told him to be at my house for supper at 5:30. He refused.

"Why do you hate me, Scott?"

"I feel like I'm just another expensive toy for you to play with. I told you that I didn't want you to rescue my business. I don't want it under your control."

"Scott, didn't you listen to the terms Fifth Chartered is offering? We're letting you run the business as you want."

"The devil is in the details. I can hardly wait to see your proposed contract. You always win, Allison. Always."

"What if you're winning alongside me, at the same time?" He didn't answer. "Come for supper. I want you to meet the children. You may as well get to know each other."

"You said you didn't want to screw up their lives. What's the point of us meeting?"

"Remember when you called the other day and I had to hang up to answer the door? That was a process server. David's filed for divorce, and he's refusing all to speak to me. Come for supper and we'll discuss where to go from here."

"My flight home is at six."

"I'll have a plane on standby to fly you whenever you want."

"You've got my balls in your hand, Allison. Text me the address. I'll be there."

I had been worried that Luke and Mia would be suspicious if I brought Scott over to meet them. I had been worried that they would blab to David about the visitor. My husband precluded those concerns by severing all contact. I called my family law attorney and asked him to prepare a document to formalize David's actions, to allow me to go ahead with my life. He prepared an amended divorce agreement in which I had sole custody, effective immediately. He went in front of a judge who immediately dismissed it, saying I was too impatient. My evening with Scott, it seemed, would have to focus on my children and his business rather than any hanky-panky. Our future together was farther off than I hoped it would be.

Luke and Mia ignored him. They enjoyed their grilled hamburgers while Scott and I enjoyed our steaks. I'm proud that I can handle a grill as well as any man. I didn't press my luck by inviting Scott to read the children a story, tuck them into bed, or anything like that. When they were both out for the night I sat Scott down at the kitchen table while I prepared tomorrow's lunches.

"Wonder Bread, Allison? I'm impressed."

I grinned. "Yup, Wonder Bread, Kraft peanut butter, and Smucker's strawberry jam. Juice, an apple, a string cheese stick, and a small bag of chips make for an ordinary American school lunch, part of an ordinary American life."

"Yes, Allison, you're just a typical American housewife. Why did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Why couldn't you leave me alone to make it on my own? Why do you have to take over my family's business?"

"Damn it, Scott!" You've got just as big an ego as my damned husband," I shouted. "Maybe I should take control of your fucking company if all your important decisions are based on pride. Did you listen to anything that I said at my office? I'm not taking over. I'm not taking any role in the business."

"Fifth Chartered..."

"Fifth Chartered is giving you a line of credit. You've got three years to make good with your business. If you don't, we can step in, but by then it wouldn't be worth much anyway."

"Three years may not be..."

"What? Three years isn't long enough?" I had to tone down my voice, or I would wake the children. "Make it four years."

At this point Scott looked at me with hope in his eyes. "So you're really not taking my company from me."

I cut the crust of Mia's sandwich, bagged up the lunches, and put them in the fridge. "I don't want your company."

"Why are you doing this? It's not normal business practice."

"My company destroyed yours. I have to deal with that. I want my empire to act responsibly."

"What about Fifth Chartered? Are you a major shareholder?"

"The only shareholder. I can do what I want, so long as it's legal."

Scott stood up and walked over to me. "Of course it's yours. What else could I expect?" He smiled as he said it.

"Would you like to be on the Board of Fifth? No, wait... that would make the Letter of Credit a non-arm's length transaction, which could be trouble. Maybe some other bank."

Scott wrapped an arm around my waist, then quickly pulled it back. "What about David? You said it's complicated. And Luke and Mia."

I took his arm and put it back around my waist. "I told you: David's filed for divorce. He's refusing any contact with his children and me. He says a clean break is best for all of us."

Scott's eyes grew wide.

"It will still take some time. My lawyer's talking to his, to see if we can come up with something that effectively separates us. Your takeover will have to wait, but hopefully not for too long."

"Takeover? You said you weren't taking over..."

"I'm not taking over your family business. You're the one doing the takeover of my family."

He looked confused.

"It will take time. We have to move slowly, but I meant what I said about the children and me coming to live with you."

Scott wrapped his other arm around my back and hugged me tightly. I moved my lips towards his.

He stepped back from me. "No. Not yet. Not before you've ended with David, one way or another."

"We already--"

"We made love in my bedroom, I know. It was glorious. But now if we're planning to build a future together, let's start it off on a proper foundation."

I stuck my tongue out at him. "You're a party pooper, Mr. Pierce."

He shrugged as he smiled.

"Stay the night, Scott."

His smile vanished. "Can't."

"How about if instead of putting you on the Board of Fifth Chartered, I put you on the Board of Vestry Capital? Then will you stay?"

I couldn't make out the look he gave me. "Even better, I'll make you Chairman of the Board. You'll be my husband's boss! How would that be for avenging the damage he caused?"

Scott pulled out his phone. "I'm going to call an Uber to go back to my hotel. I have an early flight."

"I told you I can have a plane for you."

"It wouldn't be appropriate. Arm's length, conflict of interest, impropriety... all that stuff, you know." He glanced down at his screen. "The car should be here in less than five minutes. I'll call you tomorrow, lover." He embraced me once again; I could feel the moisture from his eyes on my face. What was that about?

Scott released me and walked out the door. I poured myself a shot of Macallan 18 scotch, made sure everything for the kids was ready, watched a trailer trash reality show on TV then tried David's office again. Once more the receptionist said he'd call me eventually.

I did get a call Friday morning, after the left for school. My attorney said he and David's lawyer had reached an acceptable separation agreement. It would be the basis for our divorce, which should be finalized within six months.

I drove to the office and started to review the Boards of my various holdings. I wanted to give Scott a position that made him feel useful, where he felt he could accomplish things. I didn't want him to feel the chasm that David sensed, a chasm that eventually became so wide as to split us apart.

A text message from Scott said to call him at my convenience. I immediately dialed.

"Yes, lover boy. I'm happy to hear from you."

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to refuse the proposal from Fifth Chartered Bank."

"What!"

"It's simply not appropriate, Allison."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It realized it last night when you offered to make me Chairman of the Board of Vestry. We're toys to you, Allison. It's all a game, and you always win. No matter how much you distance yourself from it, you have all the power, control all the pieces. Wonder Bread sandwiches don't change who you are, Allison. They don't change what you do. I can't be your plaything."

I fell back onto the sofa. "What are you talking about, Scott? You're my lover. You always have been deep in my heart."

"I do love you, Allison. Always have, always will. But I can't be your lover. I can't be an investment that you play with."

"What are you doing, Pierce? Your business can't survive without my Letter of Credit."

"It's going to be hard, and you're right: we probably won't make it."

"Don't do this, Scott. Don't turn me away. Don't turn your back on the hundreds of people who depended on Darcy Pierce Industries."

"They turned their back on me when they threw a brick through my window. Besides which, I'm planning to move the factory to Tennessee, which has a much better business climate."

"Don't do this to me, Scott. I'm begging you. You're not my toy. You're my lover, my man..."

"I wish that was true. If I'm your lover, your man, your investment, your whatever, that will still take second place to being your plaything."

"No, no, don't--"

"Allison, I didn't want to leave you hanging once I came to my realization, so I called you right away. I've got a meeting now with a potential buyer for the Pierce Industries site. I have to go, my love."

I hung up the phone and poured myself a double shot of cheap rye. I needed to feel its burn. I called Uncle Rahul. "Uncle, I changed my mind about my husband. I'd like to bring him back home."

Rahul said he'd call me back. Three hours later he informed me that David had requested a permanent assignment to the New Delhi office, and it had been granted. "We can't rescind that," my uncle explained.

I hung up the phone and considered strategies. The simplest would be to do myself to Vestry what I had contemplated letting David do: destroy it. He'd be out of a job and have to come home. But I had rejected such deliberate destruction as cruel and immoral. Would it be any less so if I was the instrument of destruction, rather than my husband? I would be proving the accuracy of Scott's assessment of me.

I picked up my phone to call my divorce lawyer, that I wanted to call the whole thing off. No. That would be the same thing. Our lawyers had reached an agreement. I couldn't back out. My marriage to David was not a toy, not a game for me to play with. I couldn't take back my move. I poured myself another rye, looked at the bottle, then emptied my glass in the bar sink.

I sent Scott a text message. "I understand. The Letter of Credit is still on the table, whether or not we have anything to do with each other." I sent him another message right after. "I apologize for treating you as a toy."

I sent the same message to David's secret phone number. "I apologize for treating you as a toy." The message didn't go through. He had blocked my number.

My beauty, my brains, my billions of dollars weren't enough to hold onto either of the men I wanted. They should have been, but my blind stupidity drove both men away. My wealth had clouded my vision. It was time to visit Rahul and Anika. Maybe they could explain to me how my wealth could become a godsend instead of an affliction.