"He probably does want to help you," Daniel said, quietly. "I know that's not necessarily what you want to hear, but…he loves you, I'm sure he does, even if he doesn't understand. He doesn't want to show empathy because he's afraid you're going to get hurt if he doesn't point you on the right path. Or what he thinks is the right path, at any rate."
"I know," I said. "Really, I do, it's just…you'd think, after all these years, he'd have some kind of faith in my ability to manage my own life. Make my own decisions, from time to time. You know?"
"I'm sure it's very hard for him," said Daniel. He was looking out the window, at the birds sitting on the windowsill. "He doesn't ever want to feel like he's failed you, but he doesn't understand what you need from him."
"I try to tell him. He doesn't want to hear it."
"I know." Daniel took a deep breath, stretching his arms out in front of him. "My father was from the same generation as yours. They have a different perspective on raising children, I think. They wanted to mold us to their idea of what a person should be, rather than taking any kind of cues from who we might seem to want to be. They want to control our lives because they feel we're not capable. My dad…I mean, before he went on that fishing trip that he never came back from, my dad was always giving me unsolicited advice.
“It didn't matter that I was obviously doing just fine on my own. It didn't matter how successful I was being. It was always just pure dumb luck. There was always some better way I could be doing it, if only I put a little more thought into it. If only I could be more like him. Never mind that he was an intermittently employed heating and air conditioning specialist, and I'm….well, who I am. He always thought it was all just ridiculous nonsense that didn't mean anything. He was convinced it would come falling down around my ears at any moment, if I didn't follow his advice."
"Well," I said. "I guess I'm glad mine's not the only one. But I wish he'd been easier to get along with."
Daniel shrugged. "It was what it was," he said. "I've done just fine without him. But if you expect me to tell you that because my father's gone now you should make more of an effort to get along with yours, don't worry. I know how impossible it is. Looking back, of course I wish things could have been different, but I also realize there's absolutely nothing I could have done to change the way he was. Nobody wants to listen to their own kid tell them how they should conduct themselves, no matter who that kid might be in the grand scheme of things."
I smiled. "You were always still the baby in diapers who used to spit up all over him."
"Exactly."
"I guess it makes sense," I said, "but would it be so hard for him to just say something nice?"
"He doesn't want to be too soft on you," said Daniel. "As ridiculous as that sounds."
"It does," I said. "It does sound pretty ridiculous."
"Are you all right?" He reached over and pushed my hair back from my forehead, letting his fingers drift through my hair. I smiled at him.
"I am now," I said. "Thanks."
"I'm sorry about the other day," he said. "I was mad at the blog, not at you."
"I know." I looked down at the counter. What was I supposed to say? It's okay? It wasn't okay. Nothing was okay, but that wasn't necessarily his fault.
He started talking again after a few moments of silence. "It just…it's infuriating, how little control you have over your image. I was just starting to learn - I was just starting to get a handle on it. I thought I'd figured it out, you know - and then something like this happens and suddenly they're saying things about me - about you - and it has absolutely nothing to do with you. This is exactly the kind of thing I didn't want happening to someone like you."
"Someone like me?" I shifted in my seat. I was almost afraid to say too much, like I'd somehow break whatever spell had suddenly inspired him to actually start talking to me.
"You know." He gestured vaguely. "Just…separate from all of this, somebody who never would have found themselves stalked by paparazzi if it hadn't been for me."
I laughed. "You don't know that," I said, feigning offense. "I'll have you know I could have been a famous socialite someday without your help, if I wanted to."
"Sure," said Daniel. "And who wouldn't want all that?"
"I won't be happy until I'm featured on the cover of a Celebrities Without Their Makeup exposé, I'll have you know."
He chuckled, standing up and pulling me against him in a tight hug.
"I've missed talking to you," I said, muffled against his chest.
"I know," he said.
I wanted to say: if you know, why don't you just make more of an effort to talk to me?
But instead I just sat there in silence, with Daniel's arms around me, trying to pretend that it made everything better. And after a while, it almost did - I almost felt like things were okay between us. That we were a real couple. A normal couple. That we ever had been.
CHAPTER NINE
The morning of the hearing was a flurry of activity. Daniel changed his suit three times, each time asking me which one looked the most "responsible." They all looked identical to me. Lindsey suggested the middle one. I didn't really know what to expect, but I wasn't really nervous. I knew I was only making an appearance to sit next to him and look young and innocent, so it wasn't exactly a high-pressure situation. I wore a pastel skirt suit and my hair down, putting on just enough makeup to make it seem like I wasn't trying.
"The water bill is due," said Daniel at one point, out of the blue.
I stopped in the middle of the living room. "All right?" I said.
"I can't pay it from my bank account. I have the cash, but…what do I do with it? Can I wire them the money?"
"You just take it to the office. Have you seriously never paid a bill in person before?"
"No. Why would I?"
I sighed. "Give me the money, I'll do it tomorrow."
He looked at me for a moment. "All right," he said. "Later on, I'll give it to you."
"What do you mean, 'later on?' You're going to forget. There's too much going on. Just get it now. Or tell me where it is, I'll get it." I'd never before concerned myself with the location of his emergency cash reserves, but now that he was acting cagey about it, I was suddenly very curious.
"No, I'll get it," he said. "Just - not right now."
I rolled my eyes. "Really? Do you want me to stand in the corner with my eyes covered?"
"Maddy, it's nothing personal. I just…I've never told anyone where it is."
"Sure, and we've only been married for…how long now?"
He shot me a look. "Relax," he said. "I'll get you the money."
"Fine, you're the one who wanted the fucking bill paid."
We left for the hearing shortly afterwards, sitting in the backseat of the town car in a stormy silence. Lindsey sat awkwardly between us, saying nothing, and John, the driver, stayed tight-lipped, only nodding at us when we got in and out. He'd been looking awfully wan and baggy-eyed lately. I wondered if Daniel had told him more about the situation than he'd told me. It didn't seem out of the realm of possibility.
We convened in a small courtroom. The judge was a stern-looking middle-aged man, sitting down behind his bench with a sigh that said he'd rather be anywhere than here. Lindsey reached out and patted my hand, giving me an encouraging smile.
"We will now proceed with the initial hearing of Daniel Emmett Thorne's petition for his assets to be unfrozen, pending the investigation of an alleged violation of sections 16(b) and 10(b) of the Securities Exchange Act of 1934. I granted the Securities and Exchange Commission's request to freeze Mr. Thorne's assets due to concern that he might be a flight risk." The judge seemed like he was stifling a yawn. "Ms. Greenlee, do you have anything you'd like to say to start us off?"
"Yes, your honor." Daniel's lawyer stood up, clearing her throat. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with us today. I appreciate that you're very busy, so I'll keep this brief. My client needs to be able to conduct his daily business, and
all of his personal affairs. He cannot do this with a freeze order in place. I understand the flight risk concern, but my client not only has no intention of leaving the country, I highly doubt he would be able to without being recognized. My client is featured on the covers of magazines on a regular basis, your honor. I'm sure that you've seen them yourself."
The judge made a slight noise of assent.
"Your honor," she went on. "I'm not trying to drum up sympathy for my client. But he is living off a small amount of cash reserves, and the generosity of family and friends. No matter how rich he is, you can't expect him to live on nothing while this issue drags on and on."
"I had planned to lift the freeze once he is arraigned in court," said the judge.
"But that could be months from now," Ms. Greenlee insisted.
"I'm aware," said the judge, drily. "I'm also aware, Mr. Thorne, that you have family and friends helping you out. You're not in any immediate danger of being thrown out on the street, are you?"
Daniel stood up. "No, your honor," he said.
"Well, in that case, I don't see why I need to hurry things along." The judge shuffled some papers on his bench. "Mr. Thorne, you're a resourceful man. I am absolutely certain that you will find a way to survive for the next few weeks. As Ms. Greenlee pointed out earlier, I am a busy man, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't waste my time any further."
Daniel took a deep breath. "I apologize, your honor. That certainly wasn't my intention."
The judge adjusted his glasses. "I'd hate to see any suspicions rise about your sister in connection with all the assistance she's been giving you. She's not immune to this either, you know."
"Your honor," Ms. Greenlee cut in. "Please - this is ridiculous. There is no need to intimidate my client. He's done nothing wrong."
"My apologies, Mr. Thorne," the judge intoned. "I certainly never meant to cross any lines. I'll see you at the trial." And with that, he was standing up and gathering his papers. I sat there on the hard wooden chair, completely stunned at what had just transpired. Ms. Greenlee looked like she'd been sucking on a lemon, even more so than usual. She rushed up to the judge, calling after him as he headed for one of the side doors - "Robert - ROBERT! Wait! I want to talk to you!" But he brushed her off with a gesture.
She came back to us, dejected.
"I'm sorry, Daniel," she said. "I've never known him to be so hostile. I never would have suggested this hearing if I thought…"
"It's all right," said Daniel, his face very grim. "I didn't really expect anything different."
But I could tell he was upset. He'd been hoping for a better outcome, of course - we all had. But the judge obviously had strong personal feelings about the case, for whatever reason, and we certainly weren't going to change his mind.
I could have sworn there was an actual cloud hovering over our group as we walked out onto the sidewalk and headed towards the street corner where John was going to pick us up, minus Ms. Greenlee, who broke off at the parking garage with a polite little wave.
"Well, it's nice to know he'll be the one conducting the trial," said Daniel with a hollow smile.
"Can't you petition the court for someone different, if you think he's biased?" Lindsey looked over her shoulder. "Shit, I should have asked what’s-her-name."
"Oh, no doubt," said Daniel. "But how will that look? 'I don't like this judge, please send me another.' Everyone already thinks I'm a rich spoiled brat who just gets whatever he wants. If I get a new judge, too, on top of everything?"
"But you're entitled to a fair trial," I said, as we climbed into the car. "Everyone is. It doesn't matter."
"How did it go?" John asked, gingerly.
"Not well," said Daniel. "Don't worry, you'll still get your paycheck," he added, which I assumed was a wry attempt at humor. It fell flat on John, who looked slightly offended as he pulled away.
"That's not what I'm worried about," he said.
No one responded.
I wished Daniel would just cave and ask for a new judge. This one had left a horribly unpleasant feeling in my chest, and in some way I couldn't quite explain, it was about more than just the things he'd said, and the way he'd talked to Daniel. He unnerved me on some other, deeper level I couldn't quite explain. I just knew things would be much better if someone else presided over the trial, but at the same time, I could understand Daniel's concern. He didn't want to look demanding and petty right off the bat, before he even had a chance to make a first impression in his trial.
I wondered how long the arraignment would actually take. I knew from following cases in the news that things like this often dragged out for years, and I simply couldn't imagine living through something like that. I knew I had no choice - I certainly wasn't going to leave him - but it already felt like we'd been slogging through a dismal swamp for God knew how long, and it was about to get worse.
"I really think it would be better," I said, trying again, more gently, "if you just got a different judge. I know it's not the best thing, for the sake of appearances, but this is ridiculous. You have to do something. You can't just lie down and take his abuse, he obviously dislikes you for some reason."
"Maddy, please."
I wasn't sure if that was meant to be Maddy, please let me make my own decisions or Maddy, please shut up, but either way, I was appropriately cowed. I sat back and stewed quietly in my own annoyance.
"For what it's worth, Daniel, I think she's right." Lindsey spoke up, finally. "You can't just let yourself be mistreated, no matter how you think it might look if you start complaining. I don't know why he was acting like that, but whatever the reason, you don't want him presiding over your trial. It's only going to make things more difficult."
"I just want some time to think things over!" Daniel said, more loudly than he needed to. "Is that too much to ask? Both of you, just keep your opinions to yourselves for a few minutes?"
We all sat in silence for the rest of the journey. Poor John, I thought to myself, absurdly. He looked like he wanted to disappear into his seat, or maybe spontaneously combust and never seen any of us again.
Once we were home, Daniel stormed up to the bedroom again and sequestered himself. I wandered aimlessly around the kitchen, and Lindsey turned on the TV in the living room, flipping through the channels so fast I was sure she couldn't possibly be processing what was on each of them.
"There's a channel guide, you know," I said, flopping down next to her on the sofa.
"Ugh. I don't even want to watch anything," she said. "I just want Danny to stop being such a shitheel. After everything we've done for him? He's still going to act like a whiny little baby when we try to give him some very well-placed advice."
"Well, he's under a lot of stress," I pointed out. I couldn’t believe I was defending him.
"Maddy, please." She shook her head at me. "I think he's been treating you worse than anybody. You don't have to pretend."
I took a deep breath. For some reason, hearing her say it was just too strange. "I don't think he's been…bad," I said. "He's just preoccupied. I'm pretty low-maintenance anyway."
"But you're sticking by him through all this. You're trying to help out. And all he can think is that you might…"
I looked at her. "I might what?"
She shook her head vigorously. "Nope, nope, I swore not to tell you. I'm sorry. I should have just kept my mouth shut. It's stupid, it's a silly little irrational fear that he has and it doesn't have any bearing on reality and I'm not allowed to tell you - I'm sorry, I just can't."
"Please," I implored, leaning towards her and lowering my voice. "I need to know - if there's something I can do, anything, if I can just know why he's acting the way he's been lately. It's almost like he doesn't remember that we're really together, you know? Like we're back to just being…a fake couple." Now that I said it out loud, I realized how true it was. All this time, I'd been carrying around the insecurity that came from the fact that our relationship had started as a business arrangem
ent.
"He's just trying to protect himself, that's all," said Lindsey. "He's just trying to…look, if I tell you this, you have to promise me you won't take it badly. And for the love of God, don't tell him I told you."
"Of course not," I said, my heart thudding in my chest. "I just want to know. Any hint of what he's thinking. I don't have a god damn clue and it's driving me crazy."
"He's afraid," said Lindsey, softly. "That's all. He knows you were only with him, in the first place, because of the money. And I think there's still a part of him that thinks…it's not just you, either. It's everybody. He always thinks it's about the money, that it couldn't possibly be about him. He thinks he's not worthy of people's attention on his own, and it's always been that way, ever since he first started making enough money to wear nice clothes and drive nice cars. He's neurotic about it. He only tells me about it because I'm his sister. I'm required to care about him whether he's a billionaire or not."
She smiled, briefly. "But Maddy, I swear to God, it's not about you. It's not that he thinks you're gold-digger, or anything like that. But all of his previous relationships eventually ended with him pushing them away because he couldn't convince himself they really cared about him. I mean, he might have been right. Who knows. But I know you're not like that, and I think he knows it, too. But he's having a hard time convincing himself."
I bit my lip. "That…makes sense, actually," I said faintly.
"But really, I don't think there's anything you can do. You're already being so supportive, or trying to at least. But if he's not letting you in, that's all it is. He's just trying to keep you at a distance. He does it to almost everybody. I know it must be painful as hell, believe me, but I think it might just be something you have to weather for now. When all this is over, and he looks and sees that you're still by his side, I think he'll realize how silly it is. But there's too much going on inside his head right now. He can't see things clearly."
It did make sense. It made perfect sense. Back when we were first "dating," before our fake marriage and long before our relationship became something real, I'd said something about wanting to remain friends, and he'd acted like I was just saying it out of obligation. Like I couldn't possibly want to be friends with him just because of…him. But after all this time, I would have thought he'd have gotten over that - just a little.
I Married a Billionaire: Lost and Found (Contemporary Romance) Page 9
