Arranged(51)

He was surprisingly kind. He was a bulldog of a negotiator. In the business world they called him The Punisher, but with me he’d shown nothing but patience and generosity.

He was a man who clearly knew what he was doing when it came to finances. I saw all access to him as an opportunity. An informal apprenticeship. I wanted to learn as much as I could from him. I couldn’t model forever, and I intended to keep building my wealth long after my looks were gone.

I wanted to be so rich that nothing could ever touch me.

Diana and I had just as much to talk about. Our schedules intersected constantly over the next two months as we would attend several family charity functions together.

“I apologize for this, Noura,” Pasco told me solemnly after three hours had passed. “My son and I have not been able to see eye to eye for quite some time, and I’d just like you to know that his boorish behavior tonight is a reflection of his contempt for me, and not you.”

“I don’t think he likes me, either,” I noted. I was shocked at my own candor. I hadn’t meant to speak those words aloud.

Pasco winced. “Well, then I apologize for that, as well. You deserve better.”

I shrugged. “It’s not your fault. Thank you for a lovely meal. I should probably go. I have an early shoot.”

Diana opened her mouth to say something, but paused mid-motion, mouth agape as the sound of a loud crash boomed through the house. It came from the direction of the entryway.

A moment later, Calder staggered into the room.

It was obvious right away that he was stinking drunk.

I stiffened in my seat. I watched his parents share a look. Diana look worried. Pasco looked furious.

Calder had eyes only for me. “Did you miss me, honey?” he sneered.

So he was a mean drunk. Good to know. Still, I felt like I’d been slapped. Every time I was starting to think he might be nice to me, he went cold, or worse, hostile.

I rose to leave.

“Are you feeling proud tonight, Dad?” he turned to his father. “Look how getting married when you told me I had to made me grow up and settle down. What a wise decision, Father. Good thing you didn’t break your perfect streak of never being wrong.”

“I never told you that you had to get married,” Pasco said with calm, dignified fury. “I only told you that you had to get married to someone I approved of if you wanted the startup capital to get your business back up and running. I think it was a fair trade considering your history of losing fortunes and choosing the wrong bride.”

I thought for a moment that Calder was going to lunge for his father.

“Banks. Please, stop,” Diana said softly. That alone seemed to take some of the steam out of Calder.

“I never should have come,” Calder said bitterly. “Goodnight, Mother.” He turned to leave.

I moved to leave, as well. I hugged Diana. She embraced me back, kissing both of my cheeks.

As I passed him, Pasco’s hand gripped my arm as though to hold me in place. “Don’t go with him, Noura. You should avoid him when he’s like this. He has no manners.”

My husband stormed back into the room. “Oh please,” he scoffed. “Did you think I was inviting her to come with me? Did you think I was going to willingly spend time with my wife? Get a clue. I have other plans.”

Well, wasn’t that sweet?

He left without another word.

After an awkward silence, Pasco spoke, “I know that what I did seems extreme. I’ve suffered the wrath of my whole family because of it. But you have to understand, or at least hear, where I’m coming from.

I didn’t miss the irony that he felt the need to explain this to me of all people, but I just listened.

“Banks was always my most responsible son,” he continued. “And the most stubborn. Did you know that he amassed his own fortune before he was twenty-one? He’s an absolute wiz at sniffing out solid real estate investments. Everyone could see he was going to go very far.” He paused. “And then he met her.”

I knew the her he was talking about. She was tattooed in beauty on my husband’s back. His ex-fiancée. Fatima.

“Do you know who she is?” he asked.

My face was so stiff it felt like it might crack. It’d been a mask of utter stoicism since my husband’s arrival and short departure. A defense mechanism I’d learned for my trade. Unlike my roiling gut, my voice was smooth and turmoil-free as I replied, “I do.”

“She was a sickness in his brain from the start,” Pasco continued. “To this day, he has a total blind spot when it comes to her. And the sad fact is that nothing but ruin was ever going to come of it. She was using him. I told him so. He wouldn’t listen, even with all the red flags. She comes from a very bad family, something he wasn’t concerned about at all. And he knew I disapproved. That’s why they got engaged behind my back. When I found out, I was concerned. Frustrated. Livid. I did something I’m not proud of.” He took a deep breath and shared a look with his wife. She appeared sad, him remorseful.

I just listened, completely silent.

“I went to Fatima,” he continued his rant. “Her not him. I told her that if they married, he’d be disinherited. He could keep what money he’d earned himself, which was not insubstantial, but nothing else. Ever. Not a dime from his family for as long as they were together. For her part, she didn’t leave him right away. Instead she convinced him to go into business with her father. He invested everything, thinking he was betting on their future.” His elegant hands were on the table clenched into fists. “We still haven’t ironed out all the details, but here’s what we know: The money vanished. All of it. He lost everything. That’s the kind of family she comes from. The kind that makes money disappear.