“Charles, we need to discuss how much money we’re settling on Billy upon his marriage to Connor.” Alison Farrell Montgomery peered over the rim of her glasses as Barbara Wilkes walked into the Morning Room with her mail. “Thank you,” Alison replied, crisply.
“You’re welcome, Mrs. Montgomery,” smiled Barbara. While she loved being upstairs, Barbara still hadn’t been able to crack the mystery of Alison Farrell Montgomery. She was a woman Barbara wanted to be, yet she had no idea how to formulate her life into one like Alison’s.
“Have the kitchen send up the coffee I prefer,” Charles said to Barbara.
Barbara waited for Charles to give her a smile or a wink, but his face was blank. Without a word, Barbara quickly exited the room.
“What do you think about that one?” asked Charles.
“Hmm? Which one?”
Charles cleared his throat. “Never mind.”
Alison took a long sip of tea before saying, “How much money are we settling on Billy upon his marriage to Connor? We put $20 million in trust for Warren, plus $5 million each for any children he had with Jill. I suppose we don’t need to worry about children where Billy and Connor are concerned.”
“They could surprise us,” noted Charles, quietly.
Alison raised a curious eyebrow. “Since when have you become the flag bearer for the gay rights?”
“He’s my son, Alison. I love him. What he does and who he does it with is none of my concern.” Charles wiped his mouth with a linen napkin. “Let’s settle the same amount onto Billy. If they have children, we’ll figure it out then.”
“Fine. Have the family office draw up the trust and I’ll have my bankers wire over my half of the money.” Alison checked her phone before adding, “I do hope Billy and Connor go through with this wedding. It would be a shame if we had to call it off.”
“It’ll happen. Connor Windsor knows he can’t do any better than Billy. Everyone else is terribly common.”
“From what Billy told Warren, their fights are only becoming more intense.”
“That’s marriage,” reasoned Charles, lightly. “Actually, Alison, I wanted to discuss something with you. How would you feel about us getting divorced?”
Alison looked at Charles carefully before she realized he had uttered the one word she thought he’d never say in her presence. “I think it’s ludicrous.”
“We hardly spend any time together…”
“By design. By choice. I don’t rely on you for money; nor do you me. Most marriages are based on a certain imbalance centered around money and that doesn’t concern us. We’re free to have our separate lives without the common ugliness of a divorce to mar our obituaries.”
Charles pondered this sentiment for a while. One of the best things about being married to Alison was that she had a fortune of her own which never made her rely on his. They were the same people from the same world with the same values. While it helped in the early years of their marriage, Charles was beginning to want something more…something fresh…something youthful… “I didn’t think you cared what society said about you.”
“I am society,” Alison corrected her husband. “Whose families are as old and as rich as the Farrells and the Montgomerys? Not many.” She took a small bite of gravlax before saying, “Charles, I am a bit…miffed…that you would mention divorce to me. May I ask what brought you to this point?”
“We have separate lives. You date other men in Paris; I sleep with women when it suits me. Other than tax purposes, there’s no reason for us to stay married. Our children are almost all middle aged, so staying together for India, Warren, and Billy isn’t a viable excuse anymore.”
“Then why change things now?”
“Why not?”
“There will be a divorce. The details of our private lives…the details we’ve both worked to keep quiet…may fall into the public sphere. I’m sorry, but I don’t want Raquel Windsor to know our household budget. Moreover,” added Alison, “someone may be able to unearth your actual net worth, not the number Forbes has gotten wrong for forty years.”
“Isn’t our freedom worth more than money?”
“I’d argue it’s the money that affords us freedom. We don’t have to worry about much of anything as long as it’s out of the public eye.” Alison rose, walked over to Charles, and kissed his cheek. “Even though we have separate lives, I’ll always love you, Charles. Do you remember the first time we met?”
“Of course. It was at the country club.”
“No, we met as children in Palm Beach.”
“Such a ghastly place.”
“Oh, I remember,” laughed Alison. “My governess and nanny brought we down there when I was nine. We played tag in the public park before trying to liberate the monkeys at the zoo. In that moment…before I knew what love was, I knew I loved you… The boy with the golden hair was how I remembered you.”
Charles pulled Alison close to him. He smelled her bespoke perfume as he caressed her soft, supple skin. “I remember the first time we had sex… The night I proposed to you…”
“I wanted to make a mockery of being forced to wear white,” whispered Alison. “That was the best night of my life.” She let her hand graze his growing erection. “Why don’t we go to my suite and…reconnect…my boy with the golden hair…”
Before he knew it, Charles grabbed Alison by the hand and whisked her away.
From the shadows of the servant’s door, Barbara Wilkes watched in envy as the man she’d come to Kingsport to seduce went upstairs to have sex with his wife. In that moment, Barbara resolved that she would be able to seduce Charles one day…but today, she had to live a life she hated in the hopes she would get the life she knew she deserved.
In our next installment, Warren confronts India…
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