Chapter 6 - THE HUSBAND I REFUSED TO USE AS A WEAPON
Ethan became a problem without doing anything.
The moment Boston society learned we were married, people started asking what his involvement meant for Prescott Hospitality.
Nothing.
That answer disappointed almost everyone.
Robert called me six days after the wedding.
“If Ethan provided a ten-million-dollar facility, we could close the refinance later.”
“No.”
“You didn’t ask him.”
“Correct.”
“Meredith, he could lose ten million dollars in his sofa.”
I closed my eyes.
“That sentence is why he’s not involved.”
“You would rather let a hundred employees worry about payroll than ask your own husband for help?”
“I would rather the company disclose its actual financial condition.”
“You’ve become impossible.”
“I became attentive.”
He hung up.
Ethan and I had our own argument that night.
Not about money.
About us.
“You still haven’t told people why we kept the marriage private,” he said.
“Why do I owe anyone that?”
“You don’t.”
“Then?”
“I’m asking why you keep describing me as something you had to hide.”
I stared at him.
“I was protecting us.”
“From your family.”
“Yes.”
“And did I get a vote?”
That landed.
We had agreed to privacy.
But I had been the one constantly moving the date when we would tell the Prescotts.
After Easter.
After Mom’s charity dinner.
After Lauren’s shower.
After the wedding.
There was always another family occasion too fragile to survive my life.
“I didn’t want them turning your money into my achievement.”
“I know.”
Ethan sat across from me.
“But sometimes it felt like you were so determined not to need anyone that you made being needed feel embarrassing.”
I hated that.
Mostly because it was true.
My family had taught me dependence could be weaponized.
My response had been to become almost aggressively independent.
“I’m sorry.”
Ethan nodded.
“Thank you.”
No grand reconciliation.
Just two adults correcting something before it hardened.
Meanwhile, Lauren told Graham the truth about Lark.
His reaction surprised her.
“He’s angry at Dad,” she told me.
“Not you?”
“At me too.”
“For what?”
“For letting Dad make every difficult conversation disappear.”
Reasonable.
Graham had assumed Lauren’s business failure had been formally resolved through bankruptcy and personal family support.
He did not know a company in which she remained a shareholder had funded it through opaque advances.
Their marriage was six days old.
They were already meeting with a financial counselor.
Lauren called that humiliating.
“Maybe it’s just adulthood.”
“I liked humiliating better.”
That sounded almost like my sister again.
The independent accountant Olivia hired traced additional transactions.
Robert and Elaine had received substantial shareholder advances too.
Some were legitimate.
Some had documentation.
Others covered:
Family travel.
Apartment renovations.
Club dues.
A portion of Lauren’s wedding planning staff.
Not the entire wedding.
But enough.
“He used company money for my wedding?” Lauren asked.
“Some company employees and vendor credits, yes.”
She turned pale.
“I thought he paid.”
Another phrase.
May you like
Dad paid.
It was becoming increasingly difficult to determine whether Robert Prescott personally paid for anything or simply controlled the account from which payment emerged.
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