“But, Vince…” she said, her voice trailing off.
“Jennifer,” he said, dragging out the syllables of her name as if talking to a child. “Please be reasonable.”
This is a battle I can’t win, she realized, sighing. “I don’t know if I can make a decision that quickly, Vince. You’ve been looking at houses for a while without me, so you’ve had time to think about things,” Jen said, as she wandered through the first floor of the home, with Vince trailing behind her. She stopped when she got to the kitchen, taking her time inspecting the appliances and glass-front cabinets, before running a hand over the enormous stone hearth. “This is a beautiful home, but I feel like I can’t make such an important decision without seeing the other two houses you selected.”
“Then let’s go look at the other two.”
That afternoon, Alan brought Jen and Vince to two other homes, also in Southampton. One was a modern all-glass oceanfront mansion on Meadow Lane, which Jen nixed almost immediately. “One major hurricane, and it’s all over,” she said, noticing the slight smile that had crept onto Vince’s face. “Also, I don’t like that it can’t be properly gated or secured. I wouldn’t want to stay here alone.” The other home was a much older, traditional oceanfront mansion on Gin Lane, but with fewer rooms, and less property than Fair Fields. Jen carefully inspected the bathrooms, kitchen and windows, and pointed out the enormous amount of work that would be needed to properly modernize and winterize the house. “We both like coming out here year-round, Vince, and this house needs a lot of work.”
Vince said nothing, but nodded his head in agreement while admiring his savvy fiancée. After a moment, he asked, “So, what do you think?”
“I think we’re on the same page, Vince. If these are the three top houses on the market, there is no question that Fair Fields is the far superior property.”
“Alan,” Vince called out, summoning the real estate broker to his side. “We want to go back and take another look at Fair Fields.”
Within the hour, Vince made an offer just under the $45,000,000 asking price, leaving Jen speechless when she heard him say, “The terms will be all cash. I want to close as soon as possible.”
At Vince’s urging, Jen skipped walking in all but one of the shows during fashion week that September, although she insisted on participating in Grant Glasso’s show. The morning of the show, while they were getting dressed, Jen once again explained why she was in a rush to get to the tents at Lincoln Center, where the show was being held. “Mr. Glasso gave me my start, and I owe him my entire career,” she reasoned with Vince when he repeatedly questioned why she decided to work the show.
“You don’t need the money, Jennifer. Once you’re my wife, you’ll never have to work again,” Vince replied. “So I don’t know why you’re thinking about your career.”
It wasn’t the first time Vince brought up the subject of her not working after their marriage. This time, like all the previous times he mentioned that she wouldn’t have to work following their wedding, tied Jen’s stomach up in knots. Trying to reason with him, she countered with a technique that she had learned through much trial-and-error over the course of their relationship, “It isn’t so much about my career, Vince. It’s about loyalty. I really couldn’t turn Mr. Glasso down when he called and personally asked me to work the show.” She smiled sweetly at her fiancé, walking towards him as he was adjusting his tie, and wrapping her arms around him. “I know how much you value loyalty, Vince,” she whispered softly as she lightly nibbled at his ear.
Any irritation Vince felt over his fiancée’s work melted away as her lips traveled from his ear, down his neck and up towards his lips, ending in a lingering kiss. “I value your loyalty most of all, Jennifer,” he said with a grin, before grabbing his suit jacket and heading out the door.
While getting her hair done and makeup applied later that morning, Jen drank in all the sights and sounds backstage, with the bittersweet knowledge that this would probably be one of her last fashion week runway appearances. I always knew my career as a model would have a short shelf life, but I had hoped to squeeze out a few more years. She mused that, even though it was torture, she would miss the craziness of each of the fashion weeks she participated in the past few years. But I’ll still have my Desiree’s Desire contract, cosmetics contract, and occasional photo shoots to keep me busy, she thought, hoping it would be enough to occupy her time.
Jen worried that, without her work, she would climb the walls out of boredom. She reflected back on a conversation she’d had with Vince a few days earlier, when he reminded her that he wanted to start trying to have children immediately after their wedding. “Once you’re pregnant, you’ll be busy decorating a nursery and interviewing nannies and nurses, and you won’t have time for modeling,” he said. “And, besides, you also have a lot of work to do on the house in Southampton.”
Southampton. That had been a surprise, she thought, still trying to wrap her head around Vince’s purchase of Fair Fields. I thought once he stopped mentioning that he wanted to buy “a more appropriate house”, it was because he had become accustomed to living in my house. Wow, was I ever wrong, she thought, remembering the day a few weeks back when he suggested they go for a drive. He was positively giddy when he came home from the closing the other night and showed me a copy of the deed.
“Earth to Jen, earth to Jen.” The sound of her agent’s voice snapped her back to reality. “It’s almost time to do that behind-the-scenes interview with Inside Access.”
Jen turned and looked at Mike, who had become a friend to her during the course of her modeling career. “I guess I was lost in my thoughts. Sorry about that.” She glanced at herself in the mirror and smiled at her reflection. I’ve come so far, and grown so much, since my first runway show five years ago, she thought as she stood and followed Mike towards the chairs set up for her interview at the other end of the backstage area.
As she walked past the other girls, they all stared at her. At least they aren’t teasing me anymore, Jen thought. Once she had begun dating Vince, the mocking she had endured about her relationship with Chris stopped, and now that she and Vince were engaged, her fellow models regarded her with a sense of awe, as if she had reached some sort of mythical level of achievement in the marrying-well department.
After she completed the interview, Jen hurriedly changed, finishing just in time to lead off the show, entering the runway to camera flashes and Tom Petty’s “American Girl” blaring from the sound system.
The rest of the show was a blur to Jen. After the finale, she joined Grant Glasso and the other models for some champagne. When it was time to leave, she said, with a catch in her throat, “Thank you, Mr. Glasso, for everything you’ve done for me.”
“Jen, you’re like a daughter to me,” Grant replied in his signature raspy voice, pulling her in for hug. “Both our lives changed that day in my shop on Job’s Lane. And this isn’t goodbye. Even though you’re not doing runway anymore, you’re still the face of my label, and you’ll always be my muse.”
Jen nodded her head as she wiped away a tear. “See you later tonight at the party,” she said, as she grabbed her tote bag and turned towards the exit.
Once she was settled into the cool, quiet backseat of her limousine for the short ride across Central Park, Jen retrieved her cell phone from the bottom of her tote bag, and saw that she had missed a call from Renata Marks, one of the city’s top family and divorce attorneys, who she had retained to negotiate her and Vince’s pre-nuptial agreement.
She returned the call, and listened as Renata explained, “I’m meeting with Vince’s friend and personal attorney, Seth Jacobs, and Joel Birnbaum, Vince’s matrimonial attorney, next week to draft the terms of the pre-nuptial agreement, so you need to start to think about what you want, and don’t want, in the agreement.”
“But, Renata, I don’t know where to begin,” Jen said. “I really
don’t want to think about divorce, when I’m not even married yet.”
“Jen, this is not something you can ignore and hope it goes away,” Renata replied. “I already have your tax returns for the last few years, and your financial statements that list your assets and liabilities, so you don’t have to do anything in that regard,” she said. “But you do need to figure out what you want, financially, should the marriage end in divorce.”
Thinking about the end of her marriage before the wedding had even taken place was a hard reality check for Jen. Once she arrived back in the Fifth Avenue apartment, Mary offered her something to eat, but Jen declined, explaining that she wasn’t feeling well. Instead, she retreated to the library, where she spent the hours before Vince came home knitting, and thinking about what she could possibly ask for in the pre-nuptial agreement. I don’t know where to start or what is reasonable. I really need to meet with Renata in order to understand where to begin.
When she heard the sound of footsteps approaching the library hours later, signaling Vince’s arrival home, Jen felt a pit in her stomach as she placed her knitting to the side and stood to greet him. This is so awkward, she thought, as she hugged him. He obviously knows, but is choosing to ignore, that our lawyers are meeting next week about the pre-nup.
Over dinner, Jen and Vince made some small talk about their respective days, and Jen reminded Vince about the Grant Glasso “after party” later that evening.
“I didn’t forget, Jennifer. I know it’s important to you that we go. By the way, I have some business trips coming up, and I’d like you to travel with me, if you aren’t too busy with wedding plans,” he said.
“I’d love to go with you, but it depends on my work schedule, too. Remember, even though I’m skipping the Paris and Milan fashion shows, I still have the Desiree’s Desire lingerie fashion show and the Sports Weekly swimsuit shoot to get through between now and the wedding.”
“Okay, then just call Marianne to see if my schedule coordinates with yours.”
An awkward silence descended over the dinner table, with the only sounds coming from their silverware coming into contact with their plates. When she could no longer take the uncomfortable lack of conversation, Jen said, “I spoke with my attorney today. She told me that she is going to meet with Seth and your matrimonial attorney next week about our pre-nuptial agreement.”
Vince was surprised that Jennifer brought up the pre-nuptial agreement. He nodded, and dabbed at his mouth with his napkin before speaking. “Yes, Jennifer, I know they are meeting next week. You haven’t changed your mind about signing a pre-nup, have you?”
“No, of course not,” she assured him. “It’s just that, I don’t know…,” her voice trailed off as she fidgeted in her chair. “It’s just that it seems so weird to plan for a divorce before we’re even married. It’s like we’re destined to fail. It’s sad, really.” Jen hung her head down and stared into her lap, unable to look at Vince.
Vince sighed. “Jennifer, I love you. You know I love you more than anything or anyone in the world, but there is so much at stake for my business if we were ever to divorce.” He took her hand, and continued, “I promised your father that I would be more than fair, more than generous with you, and I will be. I really don’t want this to come between us.” He reached for Jen’s face, and lifted it up so he could look into her eyes. “Everything will be okay, I promise. Trust me.”
“You’re fucking insane!” Joel Birnbaum shouted at Vince, “Do you have any idea what you’re doing? You can’t make that kind of first offer.”
Vince ignored Joel, and turned to Seth, who sat stone-faced across the conference table at the headquarters of Penn Worldwide Investments. “What do you think?”
Choosing his words carefully, Seth replied in an even tone, “It’s a lot of money, Vince, an awful lot of money. What if she says no? Are you prepared to increase your offer? You’ve told me that she has made some good investments and is a good negotiator. She’s going to counter, and expect you to increase your offer.”
“I want to start high, because I don’t want to nickel and dime her. I’m willing to move, if I have to, but what I’m really more interested in is what she has to say in response.”
“So, you’re testing her,” Seth replied.
Vince made an almost imperceptible gesture with his hand, and said, “Maybe.”
“Goddamn it,” Joel interjected. “This is about making a deal, not about head games.” When Vince glared at him, but didn’t respond, Joel asked, “Do you really want me to communicate that offer?”
“Yes,” Vince said, his eyes dark and narrowed into slits. “Let’s see what happens.”
Joel stood and stormed towards the door, shaking his head and muttering to himself.
Once Joel left, Vince looked at Seth, and said, “I know what I’m doing.”
“I have no doubt,” Seth replied.
Jen jumped when the conference room door opened and Renata purposefully walked in, carrying a legal pad. She sat in a chair across the table from Jen and her parents, and announced, “We have a first financial offer.”
Jen opened her mouth, but found she could barely speak. “What is he offering?”
“Five percent of his net worth, or $1.25 billion, whichever is larger at the time, if the marriage ends in divorce during your first ten years of marriage,” she said, checking her notes. “As of today, those figures are the same, because his personal net worth is approximately $25 billion.”
There was a collective gasp from Jen and her parents, and as Renata’s words began to sink in, Jennifer began to unconsciously wring her hands and tremble uncontrollably.
Finally, Peter broke the silence, and asked, “After ten years, what happens?”
“If the marriage ends after ten years, he is willing to double the offer to ten percent of his net worth, or $2.5 billion, whichever is larger. There are also some additional financial incentives, based on the number of children that are born of the marriage.”
Peter asked, “This is more than you thought you’d be able to get at the end of the negotiations, isn’t it?”
“A lot more,” Renata replied. Turning her attention to Jen, she asked, “What do you want to do?”
“I need a moment to think,” she said, standing up and walking towards the window. She stared out across the East River, focusing on her old apartment building in the distance. It’s not even a year since I walked in on Chris in bed with Vicky, not even a year since Drew left and moved home to California, not even a year since I was attacked in my apartment. My life has spun out of control since then, and I have to find a way to take some control back.
Jen walked back across the room and sank down into her chair. She took a deep sip from the mug of chamomile tea in front of her, and weighed her options. After a few minutes, she responded, “Accept the offer, and let’s put this all behind us.”
“But this is a first offer, Jen. You and I both know that he has to have room to negotiate. No one’s first offer is their best offer,” Renata said, all business. “I could probably get you a lot more money if we hold out.”
But I know Vince, she thought. What if this is some kind of a test of my loyalty? “Please, Renata, listen to me. Just accept the offer, and move on to whatever else he thinks is important to put in the agreement.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m absolutely sure. Please trust me on this.”
A half hour later, Renata returned to the conference room where Jen and her parents were waiting. “I have some personal issues to discuss with Jen,” she announced as she closed the door behind her. “Grace, Peter, you might want to step outside for a few minutes.”
“It’s okay. My parents can stay,” Jen said, as she furrowed her brows. “What kinds of personal issues?”
Renata drew a deep breath. “He insists on including the number of times per month y
ou will be required to, how should I put it, ‘fulfill your marital obligations’.”
Jen’s cheeks turned beet red, and she buried her head in her hands. “I can’t believe he feels it’s really necessary to put that in the agreement,” Jen said to Renata. “I’m so mortified.”
“Look, Jen, although it is rare, the subject of sex does sometimes come up in the context of pre-nuptial agreements. Vince seems to think it is important.” Renata turned to Grace and Peter, and said, “I need to speak with my client, alone.”
“Of course,” Grace said, standing. Rubbing her daughter’s back, she said, “Jen, honey, we’ll be right outside the door if you need us. Let’s go, Pete.”
Once the door closed behind her parents, Jen said, “I think I’m going to throw up. What did he propose?”
“He wants a guarantee of 15 times per month.”
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