Two things I have learned. Jay doesn’t love me, and Anna is incapable of deep conversation. It’s time to cut my losses. I hand my credit card over and watch while Anna continues to steam at her manicurist. Val, the spa manager, hands the card back to me. “No good. Another one?”
I slide a second one out of my pocketbook wondering what extravagant gift Jay has purchased this time. A private plane membership? A different country club? I hand Val a second credit card and wait while she is punching numbers into the machine. The machine thinks, but makes no satisfying noise.
“No good,” Val says, shaking her head.
“Jay probably canceled your card, Haley,” Anna says coldly as she approaches the desk.
I dig through my wallet, messing up my nails, but I only have $8 to my name. “I don’t have enough,” I say, lifting the wallet to show Val. “I’m meeting with a lawyer about my settlement today. Can I come back after my meeting and pay you?”
“You pay right now.” She bangs the desk for emphasis. “No free ride!”
“I can’t pay right now.” I look to Anna, who hands her credit card over to Val.
“This is the last time I’m coming here,” Anna says, like it’s taken as some sort of threat. “You all have an attitude, and you need to know who the customer is!” The machine spits out Anna’s receipt, and she signs quickly, heading toward the door.
“Anna, wait. I don’t have any money!”
She flips her red hair about as she faces me. “You have to stand on your own at some point.” She zips up her purse. “I wish you the best, Haley, I really do. You’ll be fine.” With that comment, Anna rushes out of the salon and leaves me standing there with several messed-up fingernails and an inability to pay for them.
“I can’t pay,” I say again, thrusting my $8 toward her. “Please take it for now. I’ll bring back the rest. I promise. Here, this is a Hogan bag,” I put my purse on the desk. “A real one. I’ll leave this here until I get your money.”
Val puts her hand up. “No problem, you keep money. Keep purse.”
“I will be back when I get some cash. I promise.” I lay the cash on the table.
“No worries.” Val pushes the money back toward me and touches my wallet. “You paid in full.” She looks at me and grins.
“No, I’ll be back, really.”
Val smiles. “I charge your friend’s card. You paid in full. I want to wait to see if she offer. When she no offer, I offer for her.”
This makes me laugh out loud.
“Haley”—she grins—“you left a nice tip, too. Thank you.” And with a wink, she opens the door wide for me to exit into my new life.
Chapter 2
My heels click resolutely along the tile. I sound most unfeminine, but standing up to Jay this morning gave me a new outlook on life. Besides, determined is the way to go. I’m too vain to be too bitter and too poor for Botox. I’ve got to find my inner-sequined Haley again, the inner disco ball, the one who dances like nobody’s watching. I take a twirl in the hall just for effect, and more importantly, I stay upright. “I will survive!” I wail like a deeply moved Gloria Gaynor. A man comes out of an office and clears his throat. “Did you see that?” I ask him. “I didn’t fall! I’m telling you, it’s a new day!”
He nods, clearly afraid of me, and ducks back into his doorway.
The lawyer’s office is what you’d expect, with its Disney architecture and shared space alongside real estate moguls and plastic surgeons. Jay is probably in first class right now, ordering another glass of wine, laughing about getting my credit cards canceled. He probably claimed they were stolen. I can’t help but hope his own were canceled at the same time. Jay’s not great at details. Meanwhile, I jump through hoops to get what little money is mine. Canceling my credit cards before I have a penny to my name is below the belt.
If someone in this town did that to their dog, it would be all over the tabloids, demonizing him or her as an animal terrorist. When Britney Spears got rid of her dogs after she had her children, she was voted “Worst Pet Owner.” You’d think she skinned the animals alive rather than adopted them out. But a wife you’re done with? Treat her as you please. You’re entitled to be happy. Just hand her off to the lawyers and let them do the dirty work.
I open the door to the office. The secretary is dressed in pressed linen and a shantung silk shirt, which tells me she’s overpaid as a secretary and most likely looking at clients such as my husband for her own turn as a trophy wife. She’s the sort that plans, not the type who’s blindsided. I envy her. I bet she never walked into a wall in her life.
“Did you have an appointment?” she asks in a soft, elegant voice.
“Yes, at twelve.” And I’m a little ticky at the moment, so don’t make me wait, I want to add.
She peruses her calendar. “Haley Cutler?”
“Yes.”
“If you could just fill these forms out, so that we might update our files. I understand you won’t be living in the Brentwood home, is that correct?”
“No, I won’t be living there. My husband is, you see, and he apparently doesn’t want to be my husband anymore, which makes it terribly awkward to go home again. He changed the locks, and climbing into the windows is hard, so no, I’m won’t be living there.”
She raises her brow but doesn’t say what she’s thinking.
What? she asked. I take the offered forms and fill them out with my mother’s address in San Carlos and hand them back.
“Oh,” she says, as though disappointed. “This isn’t a local address.” She hands the papers back, as if I’m going to move for her.
“That’s because I won’t be local.” I try to say this with a sweet smile, one that I’ve practiced over the years.
“Does Hamilton know this?”
“Well, I don’t know. I haven’t seen Mr. Lowe in years, and I really didn’t think I needed to run my living arrangements by him.”
“I can’t imagine why your husband tossed you out,” Miss Linen mumbles under her breath, and my only wish for her is that she may find a husband just like him.
Was that rude? See, I can’t even tell anymore.
I’m led into Hamilton’s office and I walk by a Bible quote on the wall. “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” How appropriate that a man helping Jay steal my life has a Bible quote on a plaque. Maybe it helps him sleep at night.
Hamilton is sitting behind his massive lawyer desk in standard mahogany, and he stands up to greet me. He’s tall. I’d forgotten that. Not too many tall men in Hollywood, so it catches me off guard, as do his eyes, which are greenish hazel and intelligent. A smart man stands out here in Hollywood. He’s unmoved by my appearance. Disdain might best describe his view of me. He’s not gay. I have great gaydar, and he’s not dressed well enough, so he has to think he’s too good for me. Which makes me wish I wore my sequins.
“You can wipe that smirk off your face,” I tell him. “I’m not afraid of you, either. Let’s just get this over with. Tell me where to sign, and I’ll be on my way.”
“Well, now that the niceties are over, why don’t you sit down, Haley.” He holds out a hand to the chair. He pulls out a legal-size file and starts reading over it, like he doesn’t know the details by heart. “This is a copy of your prenuptial agreement, which you’ll remember signing eight years ago.”
“Hamilton, we both know what’s in there. Just tell me how to get my money, so I can get started on the life that doesn’t include Jay Cutler or Hamilton Lowe. Then, we’ll all be happy. You can go back to proselytizing and ripping women off, and I can find myself another job at the Gap.”
“It’s not quite that easy, Haley.”
“Of course, it’s not. You’re a lawyer. You live to make people miserable and find all new forms of torture.”
Despite himself, he smiles. “I need to make sure you understand everything. That’s part of my job.”
“If I understood everything, I would never have signed tha
t agreement. You seemed to be okay with my ignorance then. I don’t seem to remember your describing in detail how my husband could legally lock me out of my house and cancel my credit cards.”
“The way you looked at Jay all those years ago, I think you would have signed anything, and if you’ll remember, I did try to go into deeper detail—”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re safe. I don’t have rightful cause to sue you. Your T’s are crossed. Can we get on with it?
Our eyes meet and for the briefest blink of an eye, I feel like Hamilton understands. It hurts. It really hurts. I haven’t allowed myself to feel the pain, but this is clearly not the place, so I go right back into resolute mode. I spent eight years suppressing my emotions, what’s another few months?
“I don’t want to be too quick in this meeting and miss something, Haley. I want to make sure everyone’s satisfied that the contract was met.”
“Contracts satisfied? I could have made more working at McDonald’s over the years, so don’t sit there smugly, acting like I’m waiting for what’s Jay’s. You’re not doing me any favors. Either one of you.” I cross my arms, and I let my face muscles go lax. I can’t afford Botox, remember? No sense letting Jay’s henchman tense my brow. “Jay never worried about the house staff, he never worried about the parties to promote his films, his reputation. All of the details fell to me, and you should know, it was no picnic. It’s not easy to maintain the proper tone of elegance at a party for a movie where flatulence is the main punch line.”
Despite his austere front, Hamilton chuckles under his breath. I don’t get how no matther how old men get, they are always twelve again when it comes to a good bodily function joke. “Haley, I’m very familiar with the desire to get what’s coming to you, but the facts state that you came into this marriage with nothing and—”
My pulse doubles, and I scoot to the edge of my chair. “Is that what you think, Hamilton? That I came into this marriage with nothing, and that’s what I should leave with?” I move forward into my seat until I’m practically on his desk, willing him to look right at me. “I came into this marriage with hope and a deep love for the man I thought Jay was. I came into this marriage with a future before me, a desire for a family. I wanted to take care of my husband and make him the happiest man on the planet.”
He pretends to write something down while I say my piece. I am sure he has this down to a science.
“I came into this marriage an innocent and I leave a bitter twenty-eight-year-old, who can’t trust a Labrador retriever, so don’t act like you know me, Hamilton Lowe. You don’t know me at all.”
He clears his throat, stacks the paperwork, his expression placid. “Very well then. Let’s get started. According to Addendum C, section twelve—”
“No, you’re not getting off that easily, Hamilton. I have a right to speak. You may think that I’m getting what I deserved, but I fail to see how falling in love allows me to deserve this. I’ve been treated like the weekly garbage, shoved out on the doorstep without keys, without my cat, and minus my self-esteem. I have nowhere to live, and you’re actually sitting there defending what my husband has done. You’re not an innocent in this, so quit with the act, as if this is all business. This is personal, whether you think so or not.”
Hamilton’s eyes flash, and I’m content I got at least some sort of reaction from him, but his voice goes on as drone as before. “You’re entitled to $70,000, but the agreement has it doled out in ten-thousand-dollar increments each month for seven months. You’ll come to the office, sign off that month, and the check will be cut for you.”
I stand up. “I am not going to become your dog and pony show for my money. And incidentally, don’t think I don’t know how close I got to $80,000 when this marriage was ended. I’m moving to the San Francisco area, I can’t be schlepping down here to your office every month to stand on my hind legs and beg. Remind me again the point of that clause? Besides Jay’s desire to make interest off my money, of course.”
“It’s part of the agreement.” He holds up an underlined section of the pre-nup.
Curse the naïve girl I was when I signed that piece of paper. “A pre-nup that you created. What’s the point of it?”
“Money given in smaller increments allows the principal, that would be Jay, to ensure that all clauses of the prenuptial agreement are met during the course of the payouts.”
Lawyer speak for how should I know?
“What are you giving me today? I have no money, and I just found out Jay canceled all my credit cards, which means I have no idea how I’ll pay for the Wilshire for the next two nights. Even if I got a job today, they won’t pay me for two weeks, Hamilton. A girl needs some warning, you know? Contrary to most of the women in this town, I do eat.”
“If you sign the monthly settlement today, stating you will not drag Jay Cutler’s name into the tabloids, you will be sent $10,000.”
“Ah, there it is.” I tilt my head back, and a bitter laugh escapes. “Jay cannot believe this town cares enough about him for the tabloids. Hamilton, he’s not Spielberg, for crying out loud!”
“Jay just wants to know his reputation will remain intact, Mrs. Cutler.”
“Reputation? Jay produces flatulence movies. What reputation does he have exactly? He makes money for the studios. That’s it. That’s where his reputation ends.”
“Mrs. Cutler—”
“Don’t call me Mrs. Cutler. If Jay was concerned about dirty laundry, he might have considered his own actions first.” I lean over the desk. “I need money to get to northern California, and I’m not leaving until I get it.”
“Haley, I can’t give you any money today. Maybe you can ask a relative to wire you the money.”
I sit down and cross my arms. “No problem. No one is expecting me, I can wait. I take Sweet & Low in my coffee, which your linen-wearing secretary never offered me.”
He eyes me, trying to see if I can follow through. After a pause, he says, “Amber!” Miss Shantung comes to the doorway. “Get Mrs. Cutler a check, payable today for $1,000 from accounts payable.”
She huffs off.
I smile. “Are you certain she knows how many zeroes that is? And you forgot the coffee.”
“Haley.”
“Tell me where to sign.”
He turns a paper around, and I sign it as large as I can, as though I’m Marilyn Monroe herself.
“I advise you to read it first,” he says, shoving it back toward me.
“I believe it was your advice that got me into this mess eight years ago, Mr. Lowe.” I slide it over to him. “Without my signature, there’s no money?”
“Right.”
I shrug, “So what’s to read. More lawyer words for, take a long walk off a short pier?”
“Jay is trying to make this as painless as possible.”
“Oh I could tell,” I turn around. “And quick, too, so that must mean there is someone else already. Is that why he’s headed to Switzerland? By the way, it was really painless to have my house off-limits to me and my credit cards canceled like I ceased to exist. It makes me all warm and tingly inside, it’s so painless.”
“You agreed to the deal.” He slides the pen back into his chest pocket. “When I advised you—”
“You’re no better than him, you know? You may think yourself above him because you wouldn’t marry a woman based on looks and therefore, you’re above this type of common household strife. I imagine that’s how you can hang a Bible quote on the wall and avoid the fact that you destroy lives for a living.”
He just stands there. His firm jaw clenched at my accusations.
“You hired your secretary that way, didn’t you? A trophy secretary. You know what that tells me? You’re not even man enough to commit in the first place. Jay has that much on you.”
“You’re angry. That’s understandable.”
“Don’t placate me, Hamilton. I’ve known you long enough to know I have never seen you at any function with a woman, and you don�
�t dress well enough to be gay. We were talking about you.”
“You were talking about me. I was just waiting for your check to arrive so that you might take your leave.”
“So are you married now?”
“No.”
“Engaged?”
“Not at present, no.”
“Dating anyone?”
“I don’t see how any of this matters to your situation.”
“Yes you do,” I challenge him. “You think you have no guilt and aren’t affected by what you do for a living. That I’m only a money-hungry blonde out to grab as much cash as I can get. I’m merely pointing out how much you are affected.”
Amber comes back, and Hamilton signs a check, handing it to me.
I clasp the check in my hand, “Don’t judge me, Hamilton Lowe. Clean your own house first.”
Amber walks out of the room, and Hamilton keeps a firm grip on the check. “I might ask the same from you. Don’t judge me.”
I pull the check and put it in my bag. I look Hamilton straight in the eye, and he focuses on his laptop rather than meet my gaze. “Just what I thought.”
Jay continues to stare at his computer. “I want a woman to look at me, like you looked at Jay that day so many years ago.” His words stop me cold. I think it surprises him as well. He looks up finally. “But I know the ending,” he says absently, as though he’s only just voiced this emotion for himself for the first time.
“My mom still looks at my dad like that, Hamilton. I never truly understood that marriage could end when I was so in love, that’s why I signed those papers, and it’s why I’d sign them all over again. I may be naïve, but I’d rather be that than to have just shut down. Believe it or not, it would have been worse had I known what I was getting myself into because I still don’t think I would have walked away. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss.”
He stares at me, but his expression gives nothing away. “Wait a minute, Haley. Before you go.” He opens a drawer and takes out a sheet of paper. “Someone at my church asked me to hand these out. I don’t know if it would help you to talk about it, but—” He slides the sheet toward me.
The Trophy Wives Club Page 3