Devoted(12)

“I’ve been well,” she said. “I’ve been painting, being a mom, you know.”

“How’s the kid? The boy. How’s the boy doing?”

“Woody? He’s fine. He’s busy being Woody.”

Megan hadn’t had occasion to speak with Lee Shacket since a corporate event eight or nine years earlier. He had not called with condolences when Jason died.

“You moved back to Pinehaven. That’s where you were born, isn’t it? Weren’t you born in Pinehaven?”

“Yes. It’s quiet here. It’s a good environment for Woody.”

“Not much happening in Pinehaven. Not a lot of glamour.”

“Just how I like it,” she said, wondering what motivated him to call, what he might want.



“Are you financially okay, Megan?”

The question struck her as bizarre. “Excuse me?”

“I know Dorian didn’t treat you properly after Jason died.”

Jason had stock options that would have made her and Woody rich if not wealthy. However, the employment contract had included an unusual vesting clause allowing more than one interpretation, and Dorian had not been inclined to be generous to a widow.

“We’re okay,” she assured Shacket.

“It wasn’t right. Dorian can be a hard-nosed sonofabitch. You should have sued him.”

“He had way deeper pockets. It would’ve taken years and years, with no guarantee I’d win.”

“It’s just so wrong. Jason would have wanted you to sue. He’d earned what Dorian took from you.”

“I was grieving, and there was Woody to worry about. We had enough. I didn’t want to mess with the whole court thing.”

“Dorian screwed me, too. He set me up, put me out on the ledge to take a fall for him, screwed me bad, but I still came out of it rich. I came out of it with a hundred million.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. Shacket’s voice had at first withered with acidic anger, but then had swelled with pride.

Seemingly unaware of her moment of speechlessness, he hurried on. “If you need anything, anything at all, you can count on me. I have resources. Whatever you need. Anything.”



She’d dated Lee Shacket maybe six times. She had seen in him a better boy than the man he’d become, one who adapted a cocky self-assurance to repress the humility and self-doubt of his youth. She might have liked him better if he’d let that boy become a different man. Lee had been out of her personal life for thirteen years, a business associate of Jason’s whom she’d seldom encountered. There was nothing substantive between them; there never had been. She couldn’t fathom the purpose of this weird conversation.

“That’s kind of you, Lee. That’s very thoughtful,” she said, though in fact she found his offer not just inexplicable but also somewhat creepy. “However, Jason left us well set, with insurance and all, and my paintings have been selling. We’re fine, we really are.”

“When you make a hundred million,” he said, “you start thinking about giving back. I’m all the time thinking about giving back. I just want you to know that you and the kid, the boy, I just want you to know that I’m here for you. I care. I’m here.”

Again, he left her speechless.

He remained so oblivious of the effect he was having that he rambled on before Megan’s uneasy silence became apparent to him. “Have you ever been to Costa Rica? It’s quite a place, a fabulous place. The blue Caribbean. Nothing like the sea along California. Tranquil, like a jewel. San José, the capital, is a sophisticated city. Friendly people, great nightlife. A hundred million in Costa Rica is like a billion here, hell, like two or three billion. I’m going down to Costa Rica, Megan. I’m getting out of the rat race. I’m going to lay back, enjoy life, really live while I’m young. But nothing is as good as it ought to be when you’re alone. What I need is someone to share it with. You and me, we had something special once. Really special. I was too callow, too frantic for success, too much of a jerk, to realize what we had. But I’ve always regretted that we drifted apart. If you’ll give me a second chance, you’ll never regret it. I’ll take good care of you, Megan, you and the boy, no one would ever take better care of you.”



She wondered if he was drunk. Or high on something. He talked fast, but he didn’t slur his words. Whether intoxicated or not, this out-of-the-blue proposal was irrational and profoundly awkward.

She might once have been less than polite in this circumstance, but sweet Woody had taught her patience. She carefully considered her response. “I’m flattered that you’ve thought so well of me all these years, Lee. Though I’m sure I don’t deserve it. Not only young men can be callow. Young women make a good job of it, too. But I’ve got Woody. He relies on me. Woody is all I want for now, all I need. I couldn’t possibly take him to Costa Rica. A trip to the barbershop emotionally exhausts him, and he needs days to recover from going to the dentist. I’m afraid you underestimate how a special-needs child changes your life.”

His rapid speech gave way to a silence of his own, and then he said, “But it has to be Costa Rica. I’ve planned it all. The way is prepared. I can’t change that now. I could fold you into the plan, you and the boy, but I couldn’t come up with a new plan, not now, not after . . . Give me a chance. Just tell me you’ll think about it, Megan. Think about it overnight and call me tomorrow. Please call me tomorrow.”