by Rosemary Rey
“Sure, since we’re over an hour early.” He drove into the parking ramp. We walked to the restaurant and were quickly seated. Matt stood until I sat down. I flushed at his chivalry. I had to admit he was my dream man. I opened the menu and pretended to read the offerings. I could care less about eating right now.
“Do you see anything you’d like to order?” Matt asked, looking at me around his menu.
“Not particularly, no. I told you, I’m not very hungry.”
“I know you’d rather be anywhere, but here Perla, but you need to eat. It’s obvious you’re losing weight, and I’d hate to think I’m the cause of you not taking care of yourself.” He looked at me squarely in the eyes.
I rolled my eyes behind the menu, preventing a fight. I was in for a long and arduous fight, and I needed to pick my battles. The waiter came back to us. I ordered an orange juice and a light breakfast of a boiled egg, smoked salmon, and tomatoes with capers. Matt ordered coffee and bacon and eggs. I wondered if he had lost his appetite since our breakup. He looked a little drawn and tired, but his body still looked amazing. There was no doubt he would always look handsome to me. I couldn’t see him any other way. I adored every part of him.
“I know you don’t want to talk about our meeting, but I’d like to know how you’re feeling about this.” He asked. I smirked and shook my head.
“How do you think I feel about this Matt? I want to move on from this whole mess and you won’t let me walk away.” I looked away and watched all the seated diners and serving staff walking about the small restaurant. It was a smart move on Matt’s part to have this conversation in public because I wasn’t sure if I could contain my derision in private.
“Pentagon got what they wanted. You did a great job acquiring Liberty. I found out. I wanted out. You should’ve let me.” I said quietly, but enough for him to hear. The uncomfortable silence was broken by the server who brought our food and placed the plates before us.
I took a sip of my juice, swallowing the bitterness in my throat. I cut into my food and moved it around, putting my fork down. “Why do you want to marry me? How can any marriage start off with extortion? You got what you needed. Why not move on? Find someone more suited to live your lifestyle as a billionaire.” I asked in earnest.
“Perla, I told you before, and obviously it bears repeating, I’m in love with you. You! I can’t think of anyone else. I don’t want anyone else. We’re great together. We fit perfectly. I know you’re angry now, but with time, you’ll forgive me and forget how we got together. All that matters is we’re together. I’ll make you happy from now on. You just have to let me.” I also believed in time I would forget. However, he hadn’t given me time or space.
“What ever happened to just trying to win me back instead of buying me back? You know I’m not about the money. Why would you give me the majority of your fortune when it isn’t a turn on?”
“You would choose to marry me just to give it back, which is precisely why I gave you my fortune because you wouldn’t keep it. You would choose me because you want me and not my money. You’re humble and honorable. You told me a long time ago you ‘live simply’, but I know you love richly. I can live without the fortune, but Perla, I can’t live without you.” His words halted my breath. I pushed back the tears in my eyes. He reached out and placed his hand on mine. My first instinct was to pull away, but I didn’t. I couldn’t be a raving bitch when he was being honest.
“It would’ve been better if you would’ve just tried to woo me back. Flowers and a candy-gram goes a long way too.”
“Perla, you’ve rejected me. You blocked my numbers. You’ve told everyone, including my sister, we were done. I couldn’t ‘woo’ you when you were closed off to me.” He was right. I ignored him and ignored people’s advice and opinions on the matter. The flowers were left to be appreciated by strangers. I closed myself off completely.
“Eat. We can talk more tonight.”
“Tonight?” I asked with surprise.
“I want to take you out to dinner to my favorite restaurant. I’ll pick you up after work, and we can go celebrate our starting over.”
“Matt. I don’t know if we should go out tonight. We haven’t negotiated all the terms, or signed the prenup. We might not be in the mood to spend time together after everything is said and done.”
“I don’t know about that. The fact we’re actually together now and speaking, is progress.” He smiled his toothy smile, his dimples concaved on his beautiful face. “Eat.” He ordered.
I took a few bites, sparking my appetite. I ate two-thirds of the already tiny meal then looked at my watch to see it was fifteen minutes to our scheduled meeting with our attorneys at Zipper’s law firm. Sensing my desire to leave for our meeting, Matt called for the check. Once it arrived, he laid a few bills on the table. We made our way out of the building. He held my hand as we walked across the street to Zipper’s office. Matt stood close to me while we rode the packed elevator to the twenty-third floor. The law firm encompassed five floors of the building. I wondered if the firm was owned by Pentagon, but didn’t want to get into a discussion about Pentagon before negotiations.
The receptionist allowed us entry to the back. Matt seemed familiar with the office and led us to the conference room where we were greeted by Kevin and Turner. They both stood from the large oval center table. I walked to Turner and gave him a long hug. He gently stroked my back. He whispered, “Are you okay, Darlin’?” I nodded. He comforted me with a kiss on the cheek. He still held me in his arms, and asked, “Do you have anything else to add since our dinner?” I shook my head, ‘no’. In Turner’s arms, as if I were being held by Carson, I felt comfort and safety. I knew he would do anything to take care of my best interests.
When I turned to face Matt, I noted his tense jaw. He looked at Turner with a possessive glare, and he stood in a defensive stance beside Zipper. I knew Matt misread the signals between me and Turner, making the wrong assumptions. “Matt, this is Turner Noble. He’s Carson’s fiancé. They’ll be getting married in October. Turner is also my attorney and advisor.” With a detailed introduction, Matt relaxed and forced a smile as he extended his hand to Turner in a shake.
“Nice to meet you, Turner. Please call me Matt.” He offered.
“Great to meet you, Matt. I wish it were under different circumstances, but we’re happy Perla found someone who is giving her a fortune instead of demanding she give him one.” I lightly slapped his shoulder for referencing my ex-husband’s demand I repay a false claim of embezzled money from his construction company. Turner pulled out a seat for me beside him, and all the men sat down after I did.
“Perla, I provided Kevin with a list of demands so he could review with Matt. This meeting is to work into the prenuptial agreement what is acceptable to the both of you. Any disagreements with terms will be hashed out in this meeting as best as we can due to the request we sign by Friday. However, as I told Kevin, it is in your best interest to feel free to sign the prenup when it’s satisfactory to you. Do you understand?”
“Yes. Let’s get started.” I stated.
*****
Turner took the lead in the discussion. When I was divorcing Ben, he helped me with negotiating the terms of the settlement agreement. He didn’t agree with my consenting to the repayment of money I didn’t owe, but he understood I couldn’t undergo criminal charges. Turner was instrumental in crafting a repayment plan which would protect me from criminal charges, keep the transaction confidential from the public, especially our family and friends, and installed a penalty if the non-disclosure agreement were violated. Only three people in my life were privy to the reason behind my false debt; Chelsea, Turner and Carson knew my plight and were emotionally supportive during a very difficult time. Once again, I relied on these two amazing men to care for my interests, and I was thankful to have Turner seated beside me.
“Dr. Keene and Attorney Zipperer, Perla and I have reviewed the terms of the prenuptial agreement you’ve
drafted as part of the assignment of Dr. Keene’s estate in Perla Mercurio’s name under a living trust. She is aware you’ve designated her as board member of Pentagon’s board, which is a closed corporation. Perla would like to add some terms to the prenuptial agreement before she accepts the proposal and signs the agreement by this Friday. I would like to read the list Perla would like included and please hold your response until the end.
“I’m prepared to take notes and will discuss with my client to ensure he agrees.” Zipper agreed. The terms I’ve requested were a little personal to include in the prenuptial in front of all these men. I was a prude in public. Never discussing my sexual experiences or desires, and here I was going to reveal some things I would otherwise never discuss.
Turner started reading my list out loud, which he had typewritten. I wanted a non-disclosure agreement of our relationship to anyone within or without our social and familial circle. A term necessary in the prenup was my ability to work, whether for another business or one I create for myself. I didn’t want to use his funds for any personal expenses and would only use my earnings to purchase my own personal items, which included but not limited to: clothing and accessories, toiletries, and beauty care. I wanted to hold my own health insurance from my employer. I couldn’t rely on a man to take care of the great and small necessities of life. Ben left me with nothing. I had to rebuild my life slowly, and I refused to regress because of Matt’s desperate attempts to keep me as his woman.
As Turner read on, I didn’t have the courage to look up to see Matt’s reaction to the things I requested. I did hear some shuffling and note taking, but I didn’t know who was writing. Turner relayed I was going to remain living in my apartment until the wedding. After marriage, I would maintain my leased apartment or another of equal or lesser value, but of comparable quality through the duration of the marriage. I didn’t want to be kicked out or choose to leave without a place to turn to. The lowest point at the end of my marriage was staying with my father as a grown woman until I could afford to live on my own. Upon finding three-quarter time employment at Liberty, I lived at Liberty Inn for months while I got on my feet. I thanked the Gods in the heavens for sending Alice and Ross during that pitiful time. I felt lucky to find my current studio. It was my haven; a place which embraces me no matter what I’m going through.
I cringed and was mortified when Turner read out loud I was not going to sleep over or have sexual intercourse with Matt during the thirty days before the wedding. My reasoning was him needing to show me he loved me, and wasn’t about the sexually pleasurable things we did to each other. We needed to work on us. Part of working on us would be going to therapy, which was another demand Turner read.
My mouth dried upon hearing the next item on the list. I took the cup of water in front of me and took a couple of long drinks. Turner asked me if I was alright. Honestly, I didn’t know if I was okay. “Can I have a little break?” I asked meekly. I felt the panic creeping from my fast beating heart up my neck to my head. The urge to tighten my hands around the glass frightened me. All I wanted to do was break the glass into my hand, make myself bleed to feel alive, instead of deadened.
I rose from the chair, keeping my head down. The men stood up, and remained standing as I walked out the door. I couldn’t clearly hear what was said, tuning everyone and everything out. Looking for an escape, I went straight toward the frosted glass doors we entered earlier. Once I came upon the elevators, I thought of going down and outside. Fresh air would’ve helped, but if I walked out of the building, I wasn’t sure I’d return. I stood by the large paned window and watched the outside world, wondering where I fit in. ‘How did I get to this place?’ Was the only thought racing in my mind. I hugged myself, trying to calm my frazzled nerves. I understood the importance of a prenuptial agreement. We both needed to protect ourselves, especially our finances, making our needs crystal clear. However, this all felt unnatural.
“Hey, Perlz. Are you okay?” Turner asked. I turned to him. His hands were in his trouser pockets. He always looked so casual, even in the face of pressure, but this wasn’t his stress to deal with.
“I don’t know.” I said honestly. “This seems so perverse. Discussing sex, where I’ll live, having or not having children. This should be easy. A relationship should be easier than this.”
“Perla, many people enact a prenup. It’s common and recommended, especially with the wealth we’re dealing with here.”
“I don’t care about the wealth. You see, Turner, I thought I was dating a simple orthopedic surgeon. I expected him to be a nine-to-five doctor because he made me believe as much. My expectations were he’d come home, eat dinner with us, and occasionally leave for business trips out of the country. I could deal with a prenup for a local surgeon. What I can’t deal with is a doctor who happens to be a financial wiz, owns part of a billion dollar corporation, and proposes marriage because he can’t deal with losing me over actions he was completely responsible for. Why me? What makes me so desirable as to give me all his money just to keep me? Do you realize over three months ago, I was happy working my jobs?”
“Were you happy, Perla? Were you happier three months ago before Matt came in the picture? Because all we saw, when we saw you, was a woman who was existing. You wouldn’t go out with any of us. And it wasn’t about the money because we offered to pay for everything. You were alone. And alone sucks, Perlz. You deserve him because you are a magnificent woman, darlin’. Everyone knows it, but you. He’s just the smartest of every man out there because he’s putting up his fortune and betting it all on you.” He paused to let it all sink in. I couldn’t argue with his assessment. I’d been hiding for the past eighteen months since separating and undergoing the divorce proceedings. I was mildly depressed. I’d lost everything when my marriage was over. Who, in my position, wouldn’t be depressed?
“What do you want me to do? I can go back in there and demand more time, but they were adamant they want to conclude this by Friday. I can’t finish negotiations by Friday, if we don’t discuss the terms today. I’ll go back in and distract them before Matt comes out to look for you. Perla, I need you to take another moment to compose yourself because you’re stronger than this. Carson told me to tell you, ‘you’re not given more than you can handle.’” Turner walked back to the conference room.
Carson knew I wasn’t able to deal with this alone. I needed encouraging words to push me forward. It wasn’t like I didn’t love Matt; I concluded. We were compatible in so many ways. I had to summon the woman who confronted him last Thursday and be strong to complete the negotiations, standing by my convictions. I prayed to my mother for strength while inhaling and exhaling several times before walking back to the conference room.
When I entered, the men stood again. I put a smile on my face, but refrained from looking at the love of my life because I knew the last remaining request would be the doozies which would create the biggest battle.
“Are you okay?” Matt asked. I looked up briefly, making eye contact and nodded. Turner pulled out my chair and helped me sit in the comfy leather chair.
“Let’s proceed. Perla requests she have no contact with anyone from Pentagon’s board. She doesn’t want to be part of any of the gatherings, whether social or professional, which Pentagon board members undertake during the marriage.” It was awkward to hear my demand when one of his best friends, member of Pentagon, was sitting before me. Zipper was Matt’s best friend. I assumed Matt would like Zipper and all his other friends to take part in the wedding, which we had yet discussed.
“In regards to the actual ceremony, Perla doesn’t want anyone present in the ceremony. The ceremony should be civil and not . . .”
“No, it goes against the expectation you hold yourself as my wife.” Matt interjected. I looked up to see Zipper put his hand on Matt’s elbow to stop him from interrupting. “You don’t want our families there, at least?” I shook my head, lowering my gaze to my hands. My heart skipped a beat. “What about a rece
ption? Just a small gathering for them to celebrate our union?” I was at a loss for words because all I’d thought about was myself, but not how others would want to celebrate us, like his side of the family. I thought of Stella and how she really wanted us to be together. She was so hopeful her brother had finally found everlasting love.
“I’d rather not. I wasn’t planning on getting married or celebrating one in thirty days.” Matt was obviously upset with my request, but I remained quiet and hoped he would accept my choice.
“Let’s move on.” Matt said.
“In regards to children, Perla will decide when she is willing to have children within the five years of marriage, if at all.”
“Perla, I’m thirty-four-years-old. I want children sooner than later. I can’t wait for you to decide whether you want children now or ever.” Matt looked distressed. I pursed my lips, refraining from saying something hurtful.
“I need time to decide what I want from this relationship, Matt. Last week, we were just dating. Today, we’re planning a marriage; an institution I don’t take lightly. And the potential for divorce is kinda high here don’t you think? I’m not interested in bringing children into a marriage doomed to fail.”
Turner interrupted, “Dr. Keene, Perla is not completely closing herself off to the idea of having children within the marriage. Having children can be a subject to work through in therapy, since it appears Dr. Keene has no objection to couple’s therapy.” The frown on Matt’s face lifted as he pondered the solution. He looked at Zipper and nodded. Zipper took notes on the terms sheet. I was grateful for Turner’s pragmatic suggestion.
“Now on the subject of where to live, Perla, would ask to live in a home other than the Boston apartment in midtown or the mansion in the North Shore. She’d prefer to get something outside of Boston, but closer than your current home so she may commute to work within the city.