April Snow (Dana McGarry Series Book 2)

by Lynn Steward

  “I think I understand Amanda a lot better now,” Dana remarked. “No wonder she’s been upset.”

  Mark nodded. “She’s also been affected by the inability of Marsha and me to bring any closure to our relationship. In fact, I’ve been thinking since the accident that maybe Amanda half expected us to reconcile for a second time. It wasn’t going to happen, though, and Marsha kept throwing up roadblocks that prevented my getting a final divorce decree.”

  Dana squeezed Mark’s hand as he spoke, realizing for the first time how much pressure he’d been under for the past several years. He was always the sunny, charming, consummate professional when she ran into him at B. Altman, but she now understood the great stress he’d been under, stress that he’d concealed almost too well.

  “With the help of our lawyers, Marsha and I reached an agreement by September of 1974,” Mark continued. “I agreed to maintain our home in Greenwich until Amanda was twenty-two, at which time Marsha would sell the house, with both of us receiving equal shares of the profit. Marsha balked, however, and decided she wanted to live in the house for as long as she wanted, with me covering all the costs. The agreement was too open-ended, and I couldn’t agree to it.” Mark paused, sighed, and went forward with his account. “And then there was the financial settlement. I agreed to give her a very generous sum in the agreement, but she changed her mind and decided that she wanted alimony as well so that she could better budget her month-to-month income. Alan, therefore, insisted that the settlement amount would have to be reduced to offset the alimony payments, but Marsha and her attorney to this day cannot agree as to how much the settlement should be scaled down. In fact, there have been some meetings in which she didn’t want the settlement reduced a dime.”

  “Her position doesn’t sound the least bit reasonable,” Dana observed.

  Mark rolled his eyes. “It’s not reasonable at all. She wants the right to live in the house in Greenwich forever at my expense, as well as alimony and a small fortune in the form of a very large settlement. I’ve never been opposed to giving her fair and generous terms, but over a lifetime, Marsha could end up gaining millions of dollars by doing absolutely nothing, which leaves me totally unable to budget my own life. I get together with Marsha and her attorney every few months to try to find some common ground, but she won’t budge. She feels entitled to my wealth, but my lawyer and I are in agreement. Marsha wants a divorce decree that essentially has no limits on how much she can collect over the years, and I’m not going to give it to her.”

  “I can relate,” Dana said. “My attorney and I have to meet Brett tomorrow. It seems that he wants to change the terms of our own separation agreement, although I’m not asking for any kind of open-ended agreement like the one Marsha wants.”

  “Sorry you have to go through that kind of annoyance too,” Mark said. “Why can’t people just move on with their lives?”

  Dana closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’d like to move on with ours,” she said. “Now that you’ve given me the details, I can see how you’re handcuffed by Marsha’s excessive demands.”

  Dana had never seen the always-confident Mark look vulnerable before. Telling his story had obviously drained him emotionally.

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “I don’t know how long it might take to get an acceptable legal agreement from Marsha, especially now that she and I have to deal with Amanda’s recuperation.”

  “I’m not a fair-weather friend,” Dana said, leaning closer to Mark and kissing him on the cheek. “I’m here for you. It’s obvious that you’ve done everything you can to finalize the divorce, and it’s not your fault that Marsha won’t cooperate. It’s just a matter of time before you’ll come to an agreement. I’m sure of that.”

  Mark put his arm around Dana’s shoulder and pulled her tightly against his body.

  “I know the doctors can’t commit to an exact prognosis yet,” Dana said, “but I’m sure that Amanda will be home soon and be able to walk. I think we all know that she won’t be competing in the Hampton Classic this year, but in time I’m sure she will ride again. The one thing I’m certain of is that she has her father’s indomitable spirit. She’s going to pull through, Mark, and there’s no reason we can’t be together.”

  “You’re pretty amazing,” he said, “which is something I don’t tell you enough.”

  “You make me very happy, Mark,” Dana said, optimistic for the first time in four days. “and that’s more important than anything you could possibly say.”

  Mark kissed Dana and the smile that she loved and hadn’t seen since Saturday morning finally returned. “We won’t know for a couple of days when Amanda will be released, Mark said. “Thankfully, she’s out of danger and there’s no paralysis, even though her movements are quite restricted, but I agree with you. She’s going to conquer this given her willpower and determination. And, Dana, thank you for your determination to stay with me after all I told you and considering the few challenges that I have ahead.”

  “I think I’m ready for that glass of wine,” Dana said as she smiled and gave Mark a kiss.

  An hour later, Mark and Dana sat at the dining room table eating pasta from Sal’s while discussing The British Shop and Irwin’s delivery of the samples Wednesday evening.

  “He’s been such a comfort,” Dana said.

  “He’s a great guy and one of the best friends I have. It’s why I felt the two of you would make such good business partners. Are you ready to take B. Altman by storm?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” Dana replied.

  Mark grinned. “I have every confidence that you’ll make it happen, with or without Helen’s approval. People like her forget that they got to where they are today because they, too, were young once and wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

  “I’ve had that same thought myself,” Dana said, “and when I make my mark, I’m not going to shut the door on younger women trying to establish themselves.”

  “Hold on a minute,” Mark said, laughing. “Don’t age yourself prematurely. You’re going to make your mark long before you qualify to speak about younger women.”

  They toasted to Dana’s success, cleared the table, and sat in the living room briefly before Dana rose to leave.

  “Call me at the office tomorrow if you get a chance,” Dana said. “My meeting with Rudnick is in the morning, but try me in the afternoon.”

  “I will,” Mark whispered in her ear as they embraced. “Let’s go downstairs and get you a cab.”

  • • •

  Back at Sniffen Court, Dana got into her pajamas after taking Wills for a final evening walk, but she couldn’t fall asleep. Her mind was racing after hearing all the details about Mark and Marsha’s tumultuous marriage. She was relieved that Amanda had made it through surgery safely and that she and Mark still had a future together. She felt so grateful that her prayers had been answered that she went downstairs and wrote a long letter to Father Macaulay, chronicling everything that had happened during the past week. She held back nothing, including everything about her relationship with Mark, Amanda’s accident, Mark’s legal problems with Marsha, the progress she’d made towards making The British Shop a reality, and her renewed confidence that everything was going to work out.

  It took thirty minutes to complete the letter, but afterwards she felt as if a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. The day had come to a satisfactory conclusion, and confiding in Father Macaulay had been the perfect way to give one final release to her emotions before bed. If she’d called her mother, she would have been up half the night answering questions and listening to new warnings and I-told-you-so’s, and she didn’t want to burden Phoebe, who had so little free time.

  She went upstairs and fell asleep, confident in the future, which included her meeting the following morning with Brett.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Alan Rudnick escorted Dana into his conference room shortly after ten o’clock on Wednesday morning. Tom Silver and Brett we
re already present and rose as Dana entered. Silver and Dana shook hands politely while Brett stood to the side and smiled as if all parties were assembled to conduct a real estate transaction. Dana looked at him and nodded, but she said nothing.

  At forty-eight, Tom Silver was prematurely gray, and his short hair was parted neatly on the side. Examining his gray goatee and gray pinstripe suit, Dana thought that he was a portrait in gray, a middle-aged man who seemed older than his years.

  After they took their seats on opposite sides of the conference table—Rudnick facing Brett, and Dana facing Silver—Silver pushed copies of the separation agreement across the polished mahogany table so that everyone could consult the same document.

  “My client and I feel that we need to revisit the initial agreement that Mr. and Mrs. McGarry signed in January, doing so with an eye to modifying some of the clauses,” Silver stated.

  “For what purpose?” Rudnick asked. “I’ve reviewed the agreement, and I believe that the existing terms are entirely fair. Mr. McGarry is now a partner with Davis, Konen and Wright, and his salary and future earning potential are considerable. And I don’t have to remind you of the circumstances leading to my client’s filing for separation. Mr. and Mrs. McGarry talked last December of possibly starting a family and buying a weekend home in the country, but Mr. McGarry’s actions prompted my client to abruptly change the course of her life and rapidly adjust the expectations for her future. We can all agree that starting a new life isn’t easy. That alone justifies what she’s asking for.”

  “I’m not here to discuss my client’s alleged actions,” Silver said as he leaned back and smiled affably. “Just the terms of the agreement. No other suit was brought against Mr. McGarry, so let’s stick to matters of the settlement so that everyone can move forward. Frankly, we’re not interested in rehashing any personal history which, at this point, is irrelevant.”

  Dana bristled at the word “alleged” but kept her gaze fixed on Silver.

  “It may not be relevant to you,” Rudnick shot back, “but it is to us. Just so we’re clear on that. It’s not too late for me to file an additional suit, as you must certainly know.”

  Silver ignored the remark. “You mentioned earning potential,” he continued, “and that’s exactly why we’re here today, only not to talk of my client’s financial opportunities. It’s Mrs. McGarry’s earning potential that we’re here to discuss. She’s currently employed at B. Altman as a buyer for the Junior Division. Is that correct?”

  Rudnick glanced at Dana, who said, “Yes, I’m a buyer.”

  “Exactly,” Silver said, “which represents a promotion. What was omitted from the original discussion was Mrs. McGarry’s future career track and—” Silver paused to lean over and confer with Brett in a whisper “—and any other assets she may have.”

  “What kind of assets are you talking about?” Rudnick asked, looking puzzled.

  Silver spread his arms wide as he responded. “Oh, come on, Alan. Don’t be coy. Any kind of assets whatever. Everything’s on the table when it comes to settling the community.”

  It was now Dana and Rudnick who quickly and quietly conferred.

  “We have no assets to report,” Rudnick asserted. “My client lives in a modest carriage house that she’s subletting from a friend. You’re more than aware, Tom, that all assets for this couple have always been held jointly, so the holdings are known to all parties. As I said, we have nothing new to add.”

  Silver looked at Dana as he spoke. “Is it true that Mrs. McGarry plans on developing and launching a clothing line for B. Altman? I’ll remind you, Alan, that Mr. and Mrs. McGarry still have mutual friends—-Johnny Cirone, for example, whose family owns the House of Cirone, a very successful manufacturing company.”

  Dana and Rudnick conferred for a second time.

  “There is currently no new line of clothing at B. Altman developed by my client,” Rudnick said. “There’s a Nantucket line that falls under her assigned duties, but nothing beyond her present job description.”

  “That’s not what I asked, Alan,” Silver countered. “Are you telling me that no line of clothing for B. Altman is currently in the development stage under Mrs. McGarry’s direction?”

  Dana began to speak, but Rudnick interrupted as he put his hand on her forearm. “The department store has not authorized Mrs. McGarry to develop any new line, but let me emphasize that it would be totally unethical to divulge any marketing plans on the part of B. Altman should they ever request Mrs. McGarry to do so. That information is totally confidential.”

  Silver’s jaw jutted out as he fluttered the palm of his right hand from side to side as if to say “maybe.” “Okay, Alan, I’ll concede the latter point, but my client is totally within his rights to determine his wife’s future earning potential before committing to generous monthly alimony payments. I regard it as axiomatic that Mrs. McGarry’s salary has already increased as buyer since she was promoted from”—Silver glanced at the legal pad before him—”promoted from special events coordinator, and her salary will almost certainly increase, perhaps significantly, over the years. There are even speculations from a mutual friend that your client may one day work alongside the owner of the House of Cirone, earning an equity position that will provide her with substantial wealth.”

  Rudnick didn’t hesitate for a second. “We’re not here to deal in rumors or speculation, Tom. My client has indeed had a slight increase in salary, but nothing that would warrant any kind of modification to their initial separation agreement.”

  “Very well,” Silver said, looking at Brett, “but I’m still going to insist that you provide an assessment of earning potential for Mrs. McGarry according to the existing guidelines and income formulas currently used for family law in New York State. It’s standard. In addition, Mr. McGarry is not prepared to pay the entire settlement on December 31st. He’s obligated to pay into his partnership with the firm, and without the partnership, Mrs. McGarry would not be receiving a fraction of this generous settlement to begin with. He will pay one-fifth at the end of December, with equal payments resuming annually for four years, beginning in 1977.”

  “In all my years of practice, I’ve never heard of such an arrangement,” Rudnick said. “If your client can’t afford the settlement he willingly agreed to in December, he’s in a good enough position to secure a loan to satisfy his obligations. Mrs. McGarry isn’t going to put her life on hold for four years.”

  “On hold?” Silver said, looking at Dana. “These terms don’t prevent Mrs. McGarry from going on with her life in the least. And if she chooses not to remarry during this time, she’ll have peace of mind knowing that Mr. McGarry will be providing her a secure future.”

  “This settlement is hardly a guarantee for a secure future,” Rudnick said. “Why didn’t you ask for these changes sooner?”

  “Because we’re asking now,” Silver said, his polite demeanor fading as he leaned forward with clasped hands. “Negotiation remains open until a divorce decree is issued. My formal request will arrive in your afternoon mail.”

  “Do we have anything else to discuss?” Rudnick asked with no inflection in his voice.

  Silver grinned as he stood. “Nothing else for now. Mrs. McGarry, it’s been a pleasure to meet you.”

  Dana made no reply. She and Rudnick stood as Brett looked at his wife with a Cheshire cat grin before leaving the room with his attorney.

  “What was that all about?” Dana asked.

  “They’ve been doing some homework,” Rudnick said. “Tell me what’s going on at work and about Johnny and the House of Cirone.”

  Dana related her plans for The British Shop but explained that it lacked formal approval since she hadn’t yet presented the samples to Bob Campbell and that the idea had even been rejected by her immediate boss. “As for Johnny,” Dana said, “he probably still plays squash with Brett, who helped him out of a legal jam last year. And he has indeed made me an offer to join his family business.”


  “Let me get this straight,” Rudnick said. “I assume you’re going to jump ship with B. Altman in favor of the House of Cirone if The British Shop doesn’t get approval.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Let me ask one more question. Are you seeing anyone? Anyone wealthy?”

  “Well,” Dana said, looking down and feeling a bit embarrassed, “I am. Actually, someone you know very well. The man who referred me to you. Mark Senger.”

  “That’s very nice to hear, Dana,” Rudnick said with a smile. “Pardon me for asking, but has he given you expensive presents?”

  “Just riding clothes and an ascot pin.”

  “Riding clothes?” Rudnick asked

  “Yes. Mark’s been an equestrian since his childhood, and he wanted me to join him on the bridle paths. I’ve started lessons at Claremont.”

  “They’ve obviously had you followed by a private investigator. Easy to do in Central Park, and that explains the meeting we just had, as well as Silver’s veiled sarcasm. Brett and Silver are perfectly aware of what your present assets are, but they obviously know a bit about Mark. If you were ever to marry him, your financial profile might change appreciably. Add to that an ownership position with the House of Cirone and you might end up being worth more than Brett.”

  “So what do we do?” Dana asked.

  “For now? Nothing. They’re on a fishing expedition, and in the process, they’re trying to intimidate us. Mark is currently just a boyfriend—they can’t ask for modification based on that—and your career options are just that for the moment—options. I’ll give them a formal answer about your earning potential that will simply outline your present job and salary. Nothing more. That’s all that’s required to comply with Silver’s request, despite his bluster. If anything in your life changes significantly, however, let me know as soon as possible, but I don’t think any career advancement on your part would be so rapid as to sway a judge to amend your original agreement. Meanwhile, we’ll see if Silver makes any further requests beyond an extension on the payment schedule.”