The Billionaire's Marriage Contract

by Avery James

  As Amy reached to place the call, she heard a knock on the door. “Yes?” she said.

  “It’s Hank. I’m wondering if you’re ready for that tour of the house. I showed your husband last time, so I don’t think he’ll mind missing out.”

  Amy looked at her phone as she waited for a moment. Then she tossed it into her luggage and walked to the door.

  ***

  For the next forty-five minutes, Hank brought Amy from room to room, talking about the technical innovations and creature comforts on display in his house. She couldn’t believe how big his “cabin in the woods” really was. There were two saunas. Two. There was an indoor swimming pool and an outdoor hot tub, which Hank had said Amy and Ethan could use whenever they liked. On the tour Amy had counted at least ten bedrooms before she just gave up on keeping track. The house felt both cozy and expansive, the exposed beams and the charming furniture making each room feel just right, and the large windows giving breathtaking views of the mountains outside. Hank had taken an extra delight in showing her the heating and cooling system for the house. Its geothermal heat pump ran a pipe far down into the earth to capture heat in the winter and dispel heat in the summer, which, according to Hank, made the whole thing more efficient. Amy liked how excited he got when talking about the technical details. From his talk, she garnered that most of the house’s twelve fireplaces were just for show.

  Hank managed to talk about heating and cooling systems for the rest of the tour until, finally, they reached his study. Someone had lit a fire in the study’s hearth, filling the room with warmth and casting a warm light over shelf after shelf of books. Hank sat down in one of two leather chairs that faced a tall window. Though the sun had long-since set, Amy could see the shadows of the mountains in the distance. “This spot is great for reading in the morning. The light is just right.”

  “It seems very nice at night as well.”

  “At night, I like to sit by this window and remember. I think back on my marriage, back on my youth.” As Amy’s eyes adjusted to the dark, she admired the view. Soon, the conversation took a turn toward the personal. “That husband of yours,” Hank continued, “he reminds me of myself when I was his age, impatient, brash, ready to take on the whole world. I like that in a man. But what I can’t figure for the life of me, Mrs. Cole, is why he wants to make a play for Harris Energy.”

  “Actually, I’ve kept my maiden name,” Amy replied, “but please, call me Amy, and I suppose that is as much of a mystery to me as why you want to sell the company.”

  “Well, Amy, I’ll make you a deal. You tell me about how you and Ethan met and I’ll tell you about why I’m selling my company. You know despite my gruff appearance and leathery skin, I’m a bit of a sucker for a good love story. I think part of being a family man is understanding what really matters in this world. It isn’t the money or the power or the fame or anything like that.” Hank tapped his finger against his temple, “It’s about what’s in here.” Then he tapped two fingers against his sternum, “and in here. It’s a lesson I’m afraid my own son hasn’t learned yet.

  “I met my Joanie when I was fifteen years old, and we had fifty-two beautiful years together. My heart is full, but up here,” he said, pointing to his head again, “up here knows I need to do more to preserve her memory. I love my company, but she loved nature. It was her idea to build this ranch, her idea to buy up tracts of forest to set aside as conservation land, and her idea that maybe, just maybe, the man she loved could do as much to help the environment as his company had done over the years to harm it. So, now it’s your turn, how did you two meet?”

  Amy smiled at Hank. She hadn’t expected the big oilman to have such a soft spot. “We were colleagues. I’m sure, if you’re considering selling to Ethan, that you’re aware of his reputation.”

  “I am,” Hank replied, “which is why I’m so interested to hear what you have to say. I know you have your own life, and I can tell you’re a straight shooter. So, tell me a story.”

  “I’m afraid it isn’t as interesting as you’d have hoped, at least the part where we met. We were much younger then. Ethan’s company had run into a bit of a branding problem, and they came to me to help fix it.”

  “What was the problem?” Hank asked.

  “Sex appeal. Or rather, lack of it. They were getting killed by flashier competitors, and they needed something to put them into the spotlight. I remember how fresh Ethan seemed in that first meeting. I mean, I remember how pale he was from sitting in front of a computer screen all day, and how idealistic he seemed about his company. He was against the idea from the start.”

  “And what idea would that be?” Hank asked.

  “I wanted to make him into a bad boy. If he raised his public profile, he could completely change the image of his company. All he needed was the initial push, and well, after so many years, you can tell how well it’s worked.”

  Amy didn’t mention the first handshake with Ethan, the way she had felt a special rush of excitement as he made eye contact with her as they shook hands. Maybe this one’s different, she had thought.

  “I see,” Hank replied. “So you want me to believe that the whole wild child act was just that, an act?”

  “At first, yes, but then he began to really savor it. The more the tabloids covered him, the more he embraced the role, and his company’s stock took off accordingly. The image fueled the success, and the success fueled the image. It was a cycle, one that made him very rich and very famous.” Amy lost herself for a moment as she stared out the window. “I can see how this view lends itself to contemplation.”

  “I don’t mean to interrupt, but this doesn’t sound much like a love story,” Hank said. “It sounds more like a sales pitch. So, let’s cut to the chase as they say.”

  “Believe me, at that point, for a long while, it wasn’t a love story.” As she spoke Amy thought, It’s not really lying if I just leave out that it still isn’t one. But Amy knew she’d have to say something. “I guess it all started in Chicago.” She thought back to that trip, when Ethan had both seduced her and stood her up on the same night.

  “Chicago?” Hank asked. “Ok, I’ll bite. What happened in Chicago?”

  “All hell broke loose,” Amy replied. “And I was the only person in the world who could fix it. At least that’s what Ethan told me when he urged me to get my ass on a plane as soon as possible.”

  “What happened?”

  “Well, he said he had a bit of a crisis with a girl, so I jumped on a plane and headed to Chicago. I arrived at four thirty in the afternoon. I still remember because it was late fall, and the sun was setting as the plane landed. Ethan had sent for a car to bring me to his hotel. I had started to suspect something was up by the time I got to the hotel. Ethan wasn’t there, but someone from the front desk was waiting to show me upstairs for my fitting. By the time I got up to his suite, I realized it had been a set up.

  “The suite was one of those great big penthouses with a sweeping view of the city skyline, the kind of place it’s hard to believe exists. Anyway, as soon as I walked into the room, I saw that he had laid two dresses out on the table, and there was a note with them. It read: Chicago Classical Museum, Maria will help you with the rest of your preparation.”

  “So it was a date?” Hank asked.

  “It was an ambush,” Amy replied. “There were two things I had thought Ethan knew about me, one was my name, and the second was that I did not, under any circumstances, become personally involved with my clients, no matter how charming or wealthy or handsome. But he apparently knew my dress size, my shoe size, and my taste in fashion.”

  “So what did you do?”

  “I decided to fire him as a client.”

  “How did that go over?”

  “Well, I never did. I’ll get to that in a moment,” Amy replied.

  “I’m sure you will,” Hank replied. “Would you care for a drink?”

  “Sure,” Amy replied. She looked out the window at the snow
falling on the dark mountains. “I called him up, and he assured me that there was an actual crisis, and that he needed me to join him at the museum, and that he would explain everything once I had arrived. Then he asked me which dress I had chosen. I told him the black one. And he said he knew I’d pick the black one. Anyway, I got dressed up, decided I had to take Ethan at his word, and then made my way to the museum.

  Hank stood up and walked over to a small bar next to the fireplace. From a crystal decanter, he poured two glasses of scotch. He walked back across the room and handed Amy a glass. “Please, continue.”

  “Night had fallen, and the front of the building was lit up from below with great big spotlights. They even had a red carpet. For the first time in my life, I felt like a celebrity as I walked through the big front doors of the museum. Ethan was waiting for me inside. He was wearing a tuxedo, and, well, I think my heart skipped a beat when I saw him standing there.”

  “Is that when you knew?” Hank asked. While Amy had been telling the story, Hank had poured himself a second drink, and he sat back down in his chair as he waited for Amy to continue.

  “No,” Amy replied, “not then. It happened later. When Ethan greeted me, he gave me a hug and whispered into my ear that everything had been taken care of. I pushed him back, and scowled at him for a moment. He made me fly to Chicago just to tell me he didn’t need my help? As soon as he saw that look, he grabbed my hand asked me to walk with him. He led me to the gallery. We walked past the crowd, and a member of the museum staff lifted a rope to let us into a closed section of the museum. He walked over to a bench, and sat in front of this enormous old painting and asked me to sit with him.

  “I should probably mention that Ethan was on the board of directors at the museum, a position I had suggested to him as he tried to fine tune his public image after one too many dates with Ms. California and Ms. Georgia. He lowered his voice and said, ‘You can’t stand me, can you?’ He had turned his full attention to me, and I could almost see my own reflection in his deep blue eyes, and I felt my anger melt away. I could tell that there was something he wanted to tell me. ‘I can’t stand myself either. The public me, the person we’ve created, he’s great for the company and the stock price and the tabloids, and boy am I keeping your company flush, but I kind of hate myself right now.’

  “He stood and walked right up to the painting hanging on the wall. It depicted a young woman. She was beautiful, and she was looking up at this swan. The swan’s wings were spread wide, and it hovered just over the woman, and I remember sitting there and wondering whether the look on the woman’s face was fear or excitement.

  “Ethan asked me if I had ever heard of the myth of Zeus and Leda. I told him I had, and that I preferred the version where he simply seduced her. Then he asked me who in the world would choose to be Zeus. ‘I suppose you think I’d identify with him: the world at his command as he strutted about in his disguise. If anyone else in the world had compared himself with Zeus in a bout of self-pity, I would have slapped him, but I kind of got what he was saying. He had been playing a role for years, a role I had helped write out for him, and it had started to take its toll. ‘I asked you here tonight because I wanted out, and I knew you’d have none of it. I asked you here because I wanted someone who could see through to the real me and understand for a moment. Knowing you’d be here, knowing that you could call me out on being unhappy when I’m more successful than even I had ever dreamed possible, that got me through this day. Thank you, Amy.’

  “That’s when I broke my only rule.”

  “You kissed him?”

  Amy laughed. “No, I became his friend. I suppose at that point in Ethan’s life I was his only friend, the only one who knew who he really was and what he was doing. I broke my rule for becoming personally involved. I walked up to him and put my arm around his shoulder. ‘Let me buy you a drink,’ I said. He told me they were free, and I told him I’d buy myself one too then.”

  “Endearing,” Hank said. “I can see how you’ve made such a career for yourself in communications. You tell quite a story. So what happened next?”

  “Well, after I talked him down, we rejoined the reception and had a few drinks together. One thing led to another, and by the time the event wound down, I realized that I was alone with a handsome man in a strange city with no place to stay. When Ethan asked me if I’d like to stay in his suite, I said yes. It was kind of a blur after that, but he was a gentleman, and I woke up in the morning to that view of Chicago. I had fallen asleep while on the couch, and Ethan had taken the blanket from his bed and tucked me in. There was something sweet about that. Of course, I didn’t appreciate it at the time. I was a bigger fan of the aspirin and bottle of water he had left for me on the end table.”

  Hank finished off his glass of scotch and looked at Amy. “I can see why you decided to give him a chance. I suppose I should tell you why I’m selling my company. It’s a far less interesting story. You see, I love my boys, but they’re not like me. They grew up rich. Money does funny things to people, and for my boys, well, it gave them the notion that they should work towards other goals in life. Charlie studied forestry in college, and he’s interested in conservation. Logan fancies himself to be something of a musician. Neither of them have a stomach for the business world. I think their mother saw to that, not that I could blame her.

  “My company, my employees, they’re my family too. All of them, thousands of men and women who rely on their CEO for guidance and the ability to make the tough decisions necessary to keep a company relevant. I would love it if either of my sons had the interest or aptitude to run my company, but they don’t. That doesn’t mean I don’t think the world of them. They’re both brilliant, and I’m proud as hell of what they’ve been able to accomplish in life, things I never could do, but they’ve never been hungry. You’ve met Logan. You can see why I can’t hand the company over to him. He’s too immature, too brash. He makes poor decisions based on whims, and he’s never had to pay the price for it. I’m hoping that he learns his lesson eventually, but I can’t gamble the futures of my employees on hope. Logan’s older brother is a different story; he has no interest in business or money. I guess he’s like his mother in that way. He lives a simple life, and I respect his decision. The most basic fact is that neither of them has ever built anything. They don’t know what it means, not like me or you.”

  Amy nodded as she listened to Hank. This felt like exactly the speech she had given to her sister only days before. “I know exactly what you mean,” she said.

  “That’s the half of it,” he replied. “The other half is knowing when to say when. If either of those boys had wanted it, I’d have handed the company off to them years ago.”

  “I’m sure you know what you’re doing. And, I’m sure your sons consider themselves lucky to have you as a father.”

  “Thank you,” Hank said. “I know it must seem odd to you that an old fart like me can enjoy hearing about young love, but you made my night, Ms. Haven. As much as I would like to stay up and share stories all night, it’s past my bedtime now, and we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. I’ve heard your husband will be back by the morning. Tell me, do you like pancakes and bacon?”

  “Who doesn’t like bacon?” Amy replied.

  “Atta girl.” Hank stood up and turned toward the door of his study. “I knew we’d get along. I’ll have someone come wake you when breakfast is ready in the morning. I make a mean chocolate chip pancake. Feel free to hang around in here or wherever you’d like.”

  Amy stood up and gave Hank a hug. “It was wonderful getting to meet you tonight.”

  Hank smiled. “The pleasure, Amy, was all mine. Since you’ve been so adept at turning your good guy into a bad boy, maybe you can advise me on how to do exactly the opposite for my son.”

  After Hank had left the room, Amy walked over to the small bar and poured herself a second drink. As she let herself sink back into the plush leather chair, she thought back to what had happe
ned once she and Ethan had gotten back to the hotel in Chicago. Thinking back on it, it seemed like a dream. They had each had a few glasses of wine at the reception, and Ethan had opened another bottle back at his suite. By the time she sat down on a couch overlooking the city, Amy could feel the night buzzing around her. She remembered asking herself whether or not she could relax her rules a little more for that one night. After all, Ethan was handsome and lonely, and, even if she didn’t want to admit it, that night had been the best date she had been on in years. She couldn’t remember the specifics, but for some reason nothing had happened, and she had woken up by herself looking out over the city in an otherwise empty hotel suite. She had run through that scene a hundred times. Ethan had left her a cryptic note. It read: I’ll do whatever it takes. She remembered how she had taken the note and folded it up in her purse without any clue as to what it meant. Before boarding her flight home, she had pulled the note back out of her purse and read it one more time. Then she threw it in the trash. This is why I never get involved with clients, she had thought as she headed to the plane.

  Chapter 8

  The next morning, when Amy came downstairs for breakfast, she was surprised to see two people sitting at the table. On one end, Hank sat reading the morning paper. On the other, Logan was leaning over a cup of coffee. He looked like he had stayed up all night, and Amy wondered where he had gone after he had dropped her back at the house.

  “Good morning,” she said as she made a beeline to get some coffee for herself.