Chapter 31 #2
“We were worried about what your life would be like after you accepted the position as CEO. And the thought of an arranged marriage when you were so against falling in love didn’t seem like a bad way to go.
The Van Der Heusen family has been in contact with ours over a possible arrangement for years,” he explains.
“We had consistently claimed that you were a man of your own course who did not want a wife and it was not something we would attempt to force.”
My mother laughs. “That sounds so old-fashioned when you say it that way.”
“My love, so is this archaic notion of wealth must breed wealth and power must only stay among the few. True power, in my opinion, lives in the people who overcome adversity and grow to challenge. Who stare evil and easy outs in the eye and flip them off. They are the ones I want to see ruling our world. Not some pompous old bloat who was handed a Harvard degree because their daddy is an alumnus and gave millions in endowments. Certainly not people who have the world at their fingertips and still whine and complain about how unjust and unfair it all is for them.”
“Now you know why the foundation is the passion of my life,” my mother retorts.
“But not the love of your life. I still hold that title.”
“Forever.”
“We don’t do that,” I argue, bringing them back to the discussion at hand.
B reminded me of that on the boat. We work our asses off.
We spend hours of our days, weeks, months, and years toiling in the hospital with the sole purpose of helping others.
Saving lives. We sacrifice and we care .
All of us do. No exception. Our wealth and name and power have no affiliation with that decision other than medicine is our passion.
Yes, we have money, but our money is not who we are.
And it never will be.
“No,” my father agrees, rubbing his brow. “But we’re different in that. As you learned this week.”
“And that is why I knew I could love you always,” my mother says to him. “I never wanted to be my parents. Hateful and money driven while being outwardly charitable.”
They peck on the lips, and I swear, in my whole life, I’ve only seen that like ten times. They love each other, but now it seems they’re learning that love is beautiful. Not contemptuous or something to be shadowed or scorned.
“Ugh,” I bellow. “Okay. I get it. You love each other. Stop making out and help me clean this crap up.”
“Naturally,” my father chides sardonically. “Because we haven’t had to watch all your lovers in the news at least a dozen times over?” Another laugh. “Once you took over the foundation, the Van Der Heusens started pressing even harder.”
“And you went along with it?” I counter.
My mother shrugs. “Not exactly. I had us meet for lunch to see if there was any chemistry. No harm in that, I figured. You and Millie tolerated each other well enough as children, and I figured if there was something between you two as adults, all the better. There wasn’t.
You didn’t smile at her once. You could hardly stand to sit through lunch and talk to her.
Then I saw you and Bianca exchange glances and texts through the window of the foundation when we returned to the building, and I knew I was right about her.
Honestly, I only attempted with Millie because we were concerned about what would come your way once you took over and we weren’t wrong.
We did assume marrying Millie would make your life easier. ”
“But you were hoping things would develop between Bianca and me first,” I surmise.
A smile crosses her face as she leans her head on my father’s shoulder.
Since her latest scare over Thanksgiving, they’ve been much more physically affectionate with each other than they were when we were children.
“Yes. That was our hope. We never wanted an arranged marriage for you, Kaplan. We wanted you to find love, but you were so antagonistic to it. I knew you’d never get there without the right sort of… ”
“Interference,” I finish for her.
“That’s one word for it.” My father laughs, kissing my mother’s cheek.
“We never said anything to the Van Der Heusens about any sort of arrangement. They took that initial lunch as a yes to their requests and ran wild with it, despite your mother telling Catherine that she didn’t think it was the right match for you. ”
I take a sip of my bourbon and let all of this marinate in my brain. I should have known all along the reason my mother hired Bianca was for me. I mean, yes, she’s got the degrees, but she had no experience.
“I’m crazy about Bianca. I love her. She’s everything. Regardless of that, I wouldn’t have married Millie.” I point at the fucking contract sitting like a loaded weapon on the table.
“I received this contract last night,” my father says. “Before they made the announcement of the engagement. It comes with a dowry of five million dollars, plus a trust fund from her grandparents for another five.”
“What?” I choke. “A dowry? Is that a joke? Do we suddenly live back in the eighteen hundreds?”
“I hadn’t heard of something like that either. Typically these contracts are more about preserving wealth on each side in the event of any issues between the couple. So I had Fairchild look into it.”
“And?”
“And we’re going to make a statement tonight through our PR people that you have no relationship with Millie Van Der Heusen and that any claims of an engagement or marriage or relationship are just. Claims. All false.”
I cross my legs at the knee and level my father with a look. “What am I missing?”
“Senator Van Der Heusen is going to be charged with the sexual harassment and assault of two of his former interns. The Van Der Heusens are in the process of trying to pay them off to keep their silence, but they’re hoping Millie being engaged to you—”
“Would take the spotlight off that,” I finish for him. “Jesus. These fucking people.”
“I won’t even argue your language,” my mother pipes in, setting her glass down on the table. “They are something else. So with your permission, we’d like to make that statement as soon as possible prior to any of that breaking.”
“Yes. Go for it. The sooner, the better. If you want, I’ll make the statement myself.”
“If that’s what you’d like, you’re welcome to it,” my dad agrees. “But we have people who can do it for you if you wish not to.”
“I’ll do it. I’ll be ever the Abbot-Fritz,” I tell my mother when she throws me a wary eyebrow. “I promise. But I can’t let that stand.”
“Well,” she says, lifting her glass and taking a sip. “Now that all that ugliness is settled, I’m assuming you were away with Bianca this weekend?”
“Yes.”
“And when do I get to meet her as yours?”
I tumble forward, finishing off my drink as I go. “You’re honestly fine with me being with her? I know she has money, but please tell me—”
“Kaplan, I don’t give a damn about her money,” she cuts in and my eyes go round at her use of the word damn.
Octavia Abbot-Fritz doesn’t swear even in the minor sense.
“I’ve never been worried about money. I’ve been worried about you.
About your happiness and your life. If you tell me she’s the woman you want to be with and she’s right for you, then I think you already know how your father and I feel about it. ”
I blow out a breath. Then another. “But you said—”
“Of course I said all that. And to a certain extent, that would have been nice. But ultimately, all we ever wanted was for you to find the one who is right for you . Not us. Honestly, Kaplan, after all your brothers and sister have been through, I was sure you would have picked up on all of that.”
I shake my head, a smile I can’t contain on my lips. “Mom, you’re seriously fucking crafty. Like scary crafty. You could have just told me.”
“No, darling. I couldn’t have. As a mother of six, I learned very early on that if I told you I wanted you to do something, you always went and did the opposite. A little reverse psychology and subterfuge have been my best parenting weapons to date.”
Jesus.
I laugh because at this point, there is nothing else to do. Wait till I tell B. She’ll die. “Can I bring her for dinner this week?” I ask.
“That would be lovely.” My parents stand and I do the same. “Now, let’s go clear your name.”