Читать книгу Bad Dad - Alice Shane - Страница 17

It now occurred to Margo that sending $4500 to Lester’s son wouldn’t be such a bad move, particularly if she promoted the idea to Lester. It would make her look good, eradicate the impact of her earlier reactions that angered Lester so much. While she was resistant to the intrusion of these rednecks, she fully intended to conceal her true feelings by making it appear as if she had a change of heart.

Keep your eye on the ball, she told herself. Her primary interest was to keep her marriage intact. In less than a year, she could do what she damned well pleased once their prenup matured and she would be raking in all that money. If something went wrong now, Lester could easily buy his way out for only $8-million, Margo calculated.

She suddenly remembered other stipulations in the prenup. Under certain conditions, she would be required to return a portion of any assets she received. Funny. She couldn’t recall the details. She’d have to review the document again.

For the time being, she would be a good girl, Margo decided. She was pleased with her own cunning. She never thought of herself as a conniver, but here she was, calculating how she could maximize her take if ever a divorce ensued. She always hated that quality in other women, particularly her mother who was a manipulator on a grand scale, with three dead husbands, all leaving enough life insurance to guarantee her a financially carefree widowhood.

Was she like that? No different, no better, she told herself. Obviously, she, too, was a schemer. No different. But she honestly didn’t care. What mattered was that she was getting what she wanted from Lester and their marriage. That was the bottom line.

Of course, she genuinely loved Lester. His wealth was seductive, but he was, for the most part, a loveable man who provided her with a good life.

She had truly lucked out when she met him at that hedge fund conference five years ago. Finance was a new beat for her, a major change from having been a lifestyle reporter who focused on fashion and home decorating. She had campaigned for this change. Her editor, Jack Packard, finally reassigned her to the financial pages despite having no business background.

Clueless about the stock market or Wall Street, unable to analyze annual reports, Margo nevertheless produced credible stories, attributing this successful transition to a rigorous Ivy League education and an aptitude for collecting and absorbing complex information. However, Packard deserved much of the credit, she had to admit to herself.

Jack Packard had mentored her, edited her work, and pushed her stories through until she no longer needed his support. If she hadn’t met Lester, she would surely have fallen in love with Jack, a Philadelphia blue blood married to a du Pont heiress – a man too arrogant to conceal his womanizing. Well, she had the smarts not to become involved with him, Margo reflected smugly – unlike another reporter he relegated to the obituary pages because she was calling him at home and gossiping with staffers about their relationship.

Lester was strikingly attractive back then – slimmer, athletic looking, handsomer and taller than Jack Packard, she recalled nostalgically. Lester was still boyish looking, even now, in his late fifties, his hair light brown peppered with grey, offset by penetrating blue eyes and a ruddy tan, enhanced by sailing weekends in Maryland and golf. Was it her imagination that the blue of those eyes was fading? She couldn’t be sure. A more obvious change was the graying of his hair.

Lester was now more distinguished looking than ever. Wealth, social position and power contributed to an overall impression of calm and dignity. He was the best looking man she had ever known and still sexually exciting to her.

She, Margo, had always been confident in her appearance, comfortable in her own skin, pleased that Lester enjoyed her beauty. In fact, she felt a bit superior in that department. At the age of 57, Lester was the one who was beginning to fade. He had picked up some weight and had lost that athletic grace she always found so attractive. She, on the other hand, was still youthful. Even now, in her early forties, her vibrant good looks were undiminished, enhanced by the advantaged lifestyle she now enjoyed. Margo felt smug, self satisfied in this knowledge.

These thoughts made her feel bold, fearless, on top of the world. She suddenly felt less threatened by the intrusion of Lester’s son. Lester would surely be pleased with what she planned to propose. She would suggest that he give the two little rednecks the $4500 – a peace offering, as it were. To do so would make her appear unselfish, demonstrate that she was willing to be a good mother-in-law – a role she didn’t really want. But she had everything to gain by playing the dutiful wife and caring mother figure, even though she wasn’t much older than those Bible Belters.