by Celeste Fall
Her mind turned to the fact that the Spellmans thought she’d be left destitute. They weren’t laughing now. The high-profile trial of their only son, Jamie, for the suspicious drowning death of his arch enemy, Howard Rich, had cost the senior Spellman a bundle in legal fees and had greatly jeopardized the reputation of their investment firm. When Tracie produced the tape of her conversation with Jamie, the Spellmans laughed in her face, pointing out that a wife could not testify against her husband. Tracie reminded them that, according to their directive, Jamie’s marriage to her had been a sham. Hence, she was not his wife.
Then, the story about her wild night with Percival had backfired in their faces when someone leaked to the press the fact that Tracie had been sent to “charm” their client as incentive to keep him happy with their firm. Although they denied that Tracie had acted on their instructions, she was given a healthy exit amount to deter from talking to the media.
Just when the Spellmans thought things couldn’t get worse, someone blew the whistle on their dubious investment strategies and clients had jumped like rats from a sinking ship. Tracie had always suspected the informer was Avril.
So the company had folded. Jamie was convicted and was awaiting sentencing. Unable to afford bail, he was destined to await the outcome in jail. Both he and his father were under investigation by the SEC. They’d never work in the investment industry again.
Finding it impossible to live under the cloud of bad press, Marilyn Spellman had cashed in her jewelry and run off with an undisclosed amount of money she’d squirreled away for just such an occasion. Rumor had it she was living on one of the Caribbean islands with her personal trainer.
When they heard this, the three women had laughed and toasted Marilyn’s health. “Looks like she is a survivor after all,” said Lottie.
Tracie checked her Rolex. She was due for an important meeting with her backers, Lottie Chambers and Audra Spellman. When her executive secretary, Avril Steele, stuck her head in the door to remind Tracie of the time, she found her employer just zipping up her briefcase. Avril surveyed her crisp navy suit and matching pumps from the Tracie Rutherford business attire collection and smiled in satisfaction.
The End.
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Celeste Fall - All rights
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