“It’s for putting up with me. No matter for how long. Who knows, in a few months, you may think that number is way too low,” he said. I opened my mouth to protest, but he stood.
“I’ll go and get your father. You two can read through the documents thoroughly together. Jerome is going to stay to answer any questions, and of course, you or your father are welcome to call a family attorney if further consultation is needed.”
My dad came to the study, and Evan insisted on giving us privacy. After staying for a w
hile, Hathaway eventually left as well, saying he’d pick up the documents in the morning.
Nearly two hours later, my father and I sat together at a round table in Evan’s study, the documents sprawled out before us.
“He’s a strange man, your fiancé,” my dad said, looking up from rereading the prenuptial agreement.
“Strange? You said earlier that the terms were incredibly generous.”
“They are. You could divorce him in six months, if you chose, and he’d still be obligated to not only pay off your remaining college debt, but to give you five million dollars.”
“I’m not going to divorce him in six months. That’s ridiculous.”
“I know that, sweetie,” he said, squeezing my hand. Despite his reassurance, the creases of concern that remained on his usually smooth forehead bothered me. He noticed my expression and smiled. “What do I know about these things, really? Wealthy people operate very differently than we would, when it comes to marriage. Marriage is a legal contract, after all. I suppose it’s better, to get it all arranged beforehand instead of risking having to battle it out in the courts later?” His pale blue eyes sharpened on me. “He must care about you a great deal, to be willing to give so much.”
“Do you really think so, Dad?”
I waited anxiously for his response. It was a little long in coming for my comfort.
“Yes. I believe that he cares about you. I see the way he watches you across a room. I see the way you watch him. I happened to agree with what your mother said when she noticed the same thing. That’s some powerful stuff, Dick, she said. Your sister told me that you told her that Evan sees you, and if that’s true, than he sees something special. Just like I do.” He gave one of his practical-Dad shrugs. “But then again, you know what my German grandma used to say. Liebe ist blind.”
Love is blind, indeed.
“Thanks, Dad. That’s a real helper.”
He chuckled. “It all comes down to instinct in the end, doesn’t it? The question is, is this what you want to do? Whatever you decide, I’m one hundred percent behind you, now and forever.”
“Thanks,” I murmured, covering his hand with mine and squeezing. “Can I tell you something?”
It happened sometimes, annoyingly, that the small voice of a thirteen-year-old girl would come out of my mouth when I was with my dad and feeling vulnerable.
“Always,” he said, just like I knew he would.
“I’m more nervous about Lake Tahoe than I am about the idea of marrying Evan,” I admitted shakily.
I’d told my family about our plans to move to Evan’s house on the eastern Tahoe shore in some of our early phone conversations. I’d only confessed to my parents when they’d arrived here, at Tiburon, that the Tahoe home used to belong to Elizabeth Madaster, Evan’s dead wife. Even when I had told them the truth, however, I’d made a point of making it seem like I was just mentioning an inconsequential detail.
“You’re worried you’re going to be walking in the shadow of his first wife?”
I nodded, avoiding his stare. Hearing my dad put my fear into words made my throat tight, as if I were sucking in oxygen through a narrow tube.
“I don’t think that’s anything you need to worry about. Not in the least bit.”
I met his gaze, amazed by his blunt certainty.
“How can you be so sure?” I asked.
“Because I saw the way he watches you across a crowded room, like you two were the only people on the planet. Stuff that powerful rarely happens once in a lifetime. But twice? Your man may have been blessed with an unfair allotment of gifts, but no one gets that lucky,” Dad said wryly. He held up a pen and nodded down at the document. “What do you want to do, honey? I trust your judgment.”
“I want to marry him. I love him. So much.”
My dad nodded once and pushed the prenup toward me. I signed.
We were married the next afternoon. The sun shone down on us while we faced one another and pledged our love and fidelity. From up on the hillside, we had a clear view of San Francisco, the bay, and the Golden Gate Bridge.