Page 74 of The Clover Chapel (Jamison Valley 2)
His quiet chuckle brought a smile to my face.
“I’m getting more wine. Then I’ll give you the full money story so you know.”
As I poured my glass, I laughed to myself at how paranoid I had been just months ago, thinking Nick could be out for my riches. Mr. Andrews had been certain Nick would contest our divorce without the promise of a large payday.
Absolutely silly.
Nick did not care about money. At all. He just needed to know that I didn’t either.
“My paychecks are important but not because they fund my lifestyle,” I told Nick when we were seated again in the couch. “It’s because every cent of those checks was one I earned for myself.”
It made me proud that that money came from my efforts. My ideas. It wasn’t money handed to me because I was born into the right family.
“My father’s family was well off, nothing extravagant, but he was able to use his parents’ money as a foundation to become the rich man he is today. My mother’s family, on the other hand, was extremely wealthy. They were extravagant.”
“How come?” Nick asked.
“My grandfather was a career investor. He poured money into small, startup companies and helped them become billion-dollar corporations. When he died, he had considerable stock in most of today’s well-known tech giants.”
“Your money is from hi
m?”
“Yes. My parents supported me as a child, obviously. And I needed my father to pay for college. But after that, I received a large sum from my grandfather. My inheritance was contingent upon getting my degree,” I said.
“It didn’t go to your mom?”
I shook my head. “Just a portion. My grandmother passed before my grandfather. I think if he had died before her, its entirety would have gone to Mom. But it didn’t work out that way. To say that my grandfather and father hated each other would be an understatement. Grandpa didn’t want Father to get his money so my mom got their liquid savings and their properties. But the bulk of their fortune was split between my brother and me.”
“I didn’t know you had a brother.”
“Ethan,” I said. “I haven’t spoken to him much this last year. He lives off of his trust fund in the city. His current wife, Number Four, is an absolute witch so I avoided them both when I lived in New York. He’s emailed me a couple of times since I moved here but we don’t talk much.”
“Hmm,” Nick muttered and sat silently in thought. “I can see why you’d want to teach. It was your dream. But why didn’t you just use the money from your grandpa after Yale? You could have avoided working for your dad. Why’d you work at his company if you didn’t need the money?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Habit. Hope, maybe. Neither of those are good reasons, but I’ve done a lot to try and win my father’s approval. It was hard for me to break out of that cycle.”
“I get that,” he said.
After college, I had thought that by working at Austin Capital, we might finally break the barriers between us. That we could bond over his beloved company. It took me a while to figure out that no matter how much I excelled or how many donations I brought in, he’d never be proud. When he’d sacrificed my reputation for his, I’d known it was time to give up. So I’d used my trust fund for the first time to pay for NYU.
“Do you want to know how much money we’re talking about?” I asked. It was a large number and I didn’t discuss it with anyone. But if he wanted the amount, I’d tell him. If we stayed together, he’d eventually have to know.
“Not really.”
“Okay.” I was relieved we could delay that conversation for a different day.
“What now?”
“Now you let me apologize,” he said. “I could have handled that better.”
It was almost comforting the way he overreacted, scared I would leave him. We both had the same fear. “You can make your official apology in bed.”
His embarrassment was replaced with a sexy smirk. He moved in a flash, standing from the couch and hauling me up over his shoulder. My face was upside-down with an up and close view of his amazing behind. With both hands I gave his butt a firm squeeze.
“You’ll pay for that,” he rumbled.
Using the hand that wasn’t locked around my knees, he slid it up and under the hem of my dress. His palm slipped right beneath my panties and kneaded one cheek before slipping across to do the same on the other. Then he dipped his thumb down and teased my clit.
