Just Pretending: Chapter 26
I sat in McGrady’s office. The last time I was here I ran out before we concluded our business.
Things had changed in the few intervening days.
Harleigh no longer was interested in an annulment, much to my relief, but she was playing hardball on the divorce. And McGrady now officially represented her. It made wrapping up the estate manners tense.
“If she doesn’t allow the company to take on the expense of managing the property, she will go bankrupt,” I pointed out.
The old man may have bequeathed the house and related accounts to Harleigh after our marriage, but he did not provide her any way to maintain it all. The funds, if not properly managed, would dry up. She had a staff that kept the place running. There was no way she could keep everyone employed if she didn’t roll over the funds into dividend-paying investment accounts.
The old man had set it up so that she needed the steady support coming from me, her husband, and the company to maintain living in the manner the household required.
“She wants a clear division of assets. As she told me over the phone, what’s yours is yours, what’s hers is hers, and she doesn’t want there to be any blurred lines. She doesn’t want your help, she has made that very clear.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose before running my hands through my hair. All of this could have been taken care of, Harleigh wouldn’t have been the wiser. And I would know that she was financially secure. But with epic bad timing, I didn’t start the process until it was too late, and Harleigh’s animosity toward me was growing as we got closer to the end of our year together.
“Alimony?” I asked.
There had to be a way to ensure that Harleigh wouldn’t lose everything after the divorce.
McGrady shook his head.
“Is she planning on selling and downsizing?” I asked. The house was too big for one person. Hell, it was too big for the two of us.
“I can’t say,” McGrady said with a shrug. “My hands are tied.”
“No, they aren’t,” I bit out, and surged to my feet. “You’re the estate lawyer, surely you can see that the old man has dealt his daughter a foul ball. It looks good, looks promising, and it’s no good.”
“I’m also handling her divorce, and she has said she is perfectly fine with how things stand. She doesn’t want anything from you.”
I paced the office. I promised the old man on his deathbed that I would take care of Harleigh. After a year of marriage, I felt that obligation in my core. I couldn’t face myself if I left her in a position that would spiral out of control and leave her with nothing. I couldn’t, I wouldn’t. I needed to outmaneuver the old man in his own game.
What was the end result he wanted? He wanted Harleigh and me to be married. Had he thought forcing us together was the way to make that work? He had loved to manipulate situations to his benefit. I had studied by his side for years. What lessons had I learned that would twist this situation to my advantage?
I stared at the shelves in his office. I wasn’t looking at the shelves, but the concept of compartmentalizing my knowledge base of tips and tricks in business that I learned from the old man.
What was the outcome I wanted? Harleigh having a fund that would self perpetuate and fund the running of that house.
I turned to face the lawyer. “Harleigh hasn’t an opportunity to review all accounts that are associated with the house because of probate, right?”
He nodded. “We can release all account and holdings information after the terms of the will have been met. Everyone concerned with the will has been contacted, and so probate ends the day after your anniversary.”
If the company had properties not divulged because of probate, then why couldn’t Harleigh?
“So it is possible the old man has something tucked away?” I asked.
McGrady nodded again.
“Okay, I’ll back off until we know the full extent of the inheritances.”
I’d back off as far as Harleigh was concerned. But I could be manipulative and sneaky too. I was going to ensure Harleigh had financial stability whether she liked it or not. I had two days to figure everything out.
“What time did you say the insurance adjuster would be here?” I asked as I returned to my seat.
My time with the lawyer wasn’t merely to complete the business we had started, but the insurance had requested my presence.
“She should be here soon,” he said looking at his watch. “Would you like a coffee while we wait?”
I nodded and he buzzed his assistant requesting the coffees.
Moments after McGrady’s assistant had brought our coffees Ms. Banning stepped into the office. She carried a decently sized, flat crate.
“Is that the Picasso?” I asked.
“It is,” she said rather triumphantly.
She propped the crate against McGrady’s desk. “The painting was at the condo where the widow was living with her boyfriend.” She turned to face the lawyer. “Mr. McGrady, are you aware that a former associate of your firm was living with the widow?”
He looked at her with a perplexed expression and shook his head.
Ms. Banning sat in one of the other office chairs and pulled out a notebook from her bag. She flipped the notebook open and reviewed her notes. “Robert Martin was one of your junior lawyers.?
“Martin?” I practically bellowed. “I knew I didn’t like that man.” I hadn’t trusted him for the way he oozed around Harleigh. I had suspected he was interested in her money and how he could make it his money. It made sense that he and the treacherous widow would have joined forces like a couple of comic book villains.
“This doesn’t look good for your firm,” Ms. Banning said. “Am I to correctly understand that he was on the team that handled the estate’s affairs?”
McGrady ran a hand over his face. This didn’t look good for the firm.
“Martin left us rather suddenly about a year ago. I never paid it any attention. Lawyers move from firm to firm frequently, especially when they know they are not in consideration for making partner. It never occurred to me that he would have… Wow, was he directly involved in the theft?”
“That’s for the courts to figure out,” Ms. Banning said. “Do I need to question the security of the painting if I leave it in the care of the estate?”
“I can return it to its place in the house,” I offered.
“My understanding is that until the terms of the will have been fully executed, the painting belongs to the estate. As executors of the estate, that means Mr. McGrady and partners. Our corporate lawyers have concerns.” Ms. Banning gave McGrady a pointed look.
I would not have been surprised if the estate’s legal team wasn’t called to be part of the legal proceedings revolving around the insurance company and the art theft.
“There are two days left until that happens. Two days, at which time the painting will return to Harleigh’s ownership. Why can’t we just take care of that now?” I asked.
By the time I left the law firm with the Picasso tucked up under my arm, I had a list of security measures that needed to take place at the house to guarantee the insurance company would continue to provide coverage.
I walked in the back door as I had been for practically my entire life.
Hannah arranged a large bouquet in a vase.
“You got flowers?” I asked as I placed the crate with the painting on the floor and leaned it against the cabinet.
“These are for you and Harleigh. Mr. Sanderson sent them.”
“Huh. Whatever for?”
Hannah stopped and wiped her hands on a towel. “Your anniversary tomorrow.” She stared at me for a long while, waiting for some kind of reaction I guessed.
I was very aware that my anniversary was the next day, and the day after that I would have my life back.
“Is that the Picasso?” she asked.
“It is,” I said.
“It will be nice to have that back on the wall where it belongs. I know we are all tired of the empty space on the wall, knowing something was missing. This will make the house feel whole. I’ll go put it in Jessie’s office for you.”
“I’ll take care of that. I have to speak with Jessie about installing security cameras.”
“There are cameras all over the outside of the house,” Hannah waved her hand as she spoke.
“Well, there are about to be cameras all over the inside of the house,” I said before hefting the crate back up and crossing the kitchen past the back hall and into Jessie’s office.
She eyed the crate. “Insurance premiums go way up?” she asked.
I chuckled. “You know it. We also have to have a complete overhaul on the security system.” I held out the papers with the details from Ms. Banning.
“Because this is being handled before the end of the first year of marriage I want you to date when I handed these papers to you, and make sure that all security updates are billed to the company. They are not to go through the household accounts. Make phone calls this afternoon.”
“Devin, what for?” she asked, perplexed, as she took the papers and began shuffling through them.
“The old man had some strange habits,” I said.
“I agree, but what’s with the documentation and date stamping of putting in a security system?”
“Because I’m afraid Harleigh will not accept allowing the company to pay for it once the terms of the will have been met and we go our separate ways.”
Jessie sat back, her eyes going wide with understanding. “Oh, right.”
“The old man never properly accounted for the care of his art investments. That was always managed by the company.”
“Everything was managed by the company. He was the company, therefore, everything was the company. Technically, I am an employee of the company,” she said.
“What did you say?”
“The old man, he never separated his home life from his work life,” she said.
“No, the part where you are an employee of the company.”
She nodded. “We all are.”
I smiled. Jessie had just handed me the twist I needed to make sure that the household maintenance wouldn’t have to come out of Harleigh’s limited funds.