CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Thatcher
The days continued to pass with no word from Carrie.
I’d gone by her parents’ house, but her car wasn’t there.
I was starting to get desperate. No calls, no texts, nothing.
I wasn’t sure what to do. It was hard to believe she was this mad at me for missing the Orchid Ball.
I was starting to get nervous that she’d figured out the full extent of the affair.
Or either the months of me coming home late, combined with finding out about Madison, and me missing the ball had proven too much for her. What if she didn’t forgive me?
I arrived at my mother’s house for the launch party without Carrie. I waved for the photographers and news media who’d been invited as I walked inside. I immediately wished I hadn’t.
“Where’s your wife, Thatcher?”
“Thatcher, is there any truth to the rumors you’re dating Madison Welles?”
“Has your wife filed for divorce?”
“Why do you look so awful?”
I hurried inside, disturbed. How did they know about Madison? And did I really look that bad?
Everyone was in the grand ballroom, as Mom called it, having drinks and appetizers while they waited for Madison to show up.
It had been a few sleepless nights without Carrie. I felt like a zombie as I walked in, and it seemed that I looked like one, too.
“Jesus,” Bryce said, eyebrows raised and glass of whiskey in his hand, “you look like shit.”
Celia turned to defend me, then made a horrified face. “My God, you really do. What the hell has happened to you?”
So, I did look that bad. But I guess that shouldn’t have come as a shock to me.
I hadn’t shaved in a couple of days. I was clean, but I hadn’t styled my hair.
Without product in it, it hung down in my eyes.
I hadn’t slept well, if at all, in days.
I knew there were dark circles under my eyes.
And who knew if what I was wearing matched or even looked halfway decent?
I definitely wasn’t wearing the tuxedo Mom had asked us to wear.
“I don’t guess Carrie showed up here without me, huh?”
“Um… no.” Olive walked up, stirring a martini.
“Why would she come separate from you? Trouble in paradise?” she snarked.
“Besides, nobody cares whether Carrie is here or not. We’re all just waiting for Madison.
” She got a little smile on her face. “And from what I hear, you’re probably waiting on her, too. ”
“Fuck off,” I said half-heartedly.
Everyone gasped. Olive almost dropped her martini. “Jeez. What’s got you in such a mood?”
“Maybe,” I suddenly yelled, “it’s because my mother did everything she could to put a wedge between me and my wife and it worked!”
All conversation stopped. There must have been three hundred people in the cavernous room, but no one made a sound.
“Did you know I was just like him, Mom? I’m a carbon copy of Dad, is that it?”
My mother’s eyes were huge, and she looked cornered.
“You thought I couldn’t withstand the former girlfriend who treated me horribly.
And you were right. What was it you saw in me?
Weakness? Was that it? You thought I could be easily manipulated?
” I picked up a glass of whiskey out of my brother’s hand and tossed it back.
“I need another,” I called out desperately in the direction of the bar.
A fresh glass was put in my hand within seconds.
“Thatcher,” my mom was talking to me like she would approach a rabid dog, “I’m not sure what has gotten into you, but…”
“You don’t know?” I yelled again, cutting her off. I tossed back the fresh glass of whiskey.
“You’re making an ass out of yourself,” Celia said, trying to intercept the waitstaff before they could get me a refill. She was too slow.
I laughed. “I am an ass. You’re right about that.
What’s gotten into me, Mother, is that horrible harpy of a model you hired for our campaign.
You wanted me to cheat on Carrie, right?
Well, guess what? You almost got your wish.
I came this close to turning into your dead husband.
Did you hate Carrie so much you wanted her to feel the pain you felt when Dad cheated on you? ”
The color drained from my mom’s face, and I could tell she hadn’t thought of it that way. “No. No, I…”
“Excuse me,” our pretentious butler said in his snooty British accent.
“Oh, give it up, Jesper,” I snorted. “You’re from fucking Wetumpka, Alabama.”
More gasps went up around the room. People might be more surprised about Jesper’s origin story than the fact that I cheated.
“Be that as it may, sir,” he said in a cold, but still British, voice, “you have a guest.”
I turned, hoping beyond hope to see Carrie. Instead, a pretty woman dressed in jeans and a peacoat smiled as she walked into the room full of people in formal wear.
“Are you cheating on Carrie and Madison with this woman?” Bryce asked. “I’m not judgmental, just… astonished.”
“No, of course not.” I stared at the woman. “Can I help you?”
“Thatcher Caldwell?”
“Yes?”
She held out a fancy gift bag for me. “This is from your wife. She said to send her apologies but that she wouldn’t be able to make it today.”
I took the bag.
The woman gave me a condescending smile. “Thatcher Caldwell, you’ve been served.”
“What?” I stared at her retreating back. I didn’t realize what was going on.
“Oh my God, Thatch,” Celia shook her head. She knew what was coming, but I still didn’t.
I peeked into the bag and pulled out a manila envelope. I opened it, flipped a page or two, and saw that one document was titled Petition for Divorce. My knees buckled, and I practically fell into the nearest chair. “They’re divorce papers. Carrie filed for divorce.”
The room couldn’t have gotten any quieter.
“Are you serious? “You should be divorcing her, not the other way around. What reason could that little… gold digger have to divorce you?” Mom tried to sound as bitchy as normal, but there was a nervous edge to her tone.
“Um… I think I have a clue,” Olive said, staring at her phone. “Someone turn on the news.”
The screen was already set up to show the first commercial once Madison arrived.
Instead, the local news was played. “If anyone ever thought that the next generation of Caldwells would be more morally upstanding than the legacy Fletcher Caldwell left behind, they should think again,” the anchor said, shaking his head as if saddened.
“Here’s society reporter Sandy Donaldson with more. ”
The screen flashed to a middle-aged reporter.
“Thatcher Caldwell, CEO of Caldwell Financial, is one apple who didn’t fall far from the proverbial tree.
Just like his philandering father before him, Thatcher has been seen around Atlanta for the past several months with a woman who isn’t his wife.
This is despite the fact that Thatcher has been married for the past five years.
Several photos have come into the station from someone in the know, and they speak volumes.
” She paused before the screen was overtaken with photos of Madison and me around town.
We were seen leaving her apartment, walking out of restaurants, leaving the office together, and so on.
There was no mistaking the intimate nature of the relationship after looking at the pictures.
Anyone looking at them would think Madison and I were together romantically.
I felt my body crumple inward. The photo credits given at the bottom of the screen were to Madison Welles. She had set us up. This time it wasn’t just me, but Caldwell Financial as a whole.
After the video, the reporter spoke again.
“Apparently, the beauty in the pictures is model Madison Welles who was formerly engaged to Thatcher Caldwell. I have it on good authority that the person who brought the two back together was none other than Karen Caldwell, who thought her soon to be former daughter-in-law wasn’t good enough for her family. ”
She sent it back to the anchor, who said, “It seems to me, that the unnamed daughter-in-law is actually too good for the Caldwell family.”
“Turn it off,” my mother whispered.
Well, I guessed that mystery was solved. Except… how would Carrie have seen the pictures if they were just leaked today? That didn’t make sense. How would she have known to serve me with divorce papers on the same day the story came out?
Celia glared at me. “You’re a fucking idiot.” She stomped from the room, yelling over her shoulder that she needed to do damage control. Though human resources was her main department, she and Bryce often shared the duties of public relations director.
Bryce stepped forward, for once taking over the situation.
“I’m so sorry, but the Caldwell Financial launch party is canceled for today.
I’m sure I don’t have to clarify why that is.
If you’d see Jesper on the way out, a boxed sample of appetizers is being prepared for each of you. Please accept our apologies.”
“No, please stay…” my mother began feebly, but everyone had already started to file out of the room. They seemed desperate to escape any hint of the scandal that was blowing up all around us.
I stood up, suddenly feeling clear-headed. “Bryce, we need to get to the office. I want to re-read that contract Madison signed. I think she’s in breach due to inappropriate public behavior and intentionally harming the campaign and Caldwell Financial.”
“I think you’re right,” Bryce said grimly. “We can go after her to re-pay the advance she received from us.”
“Oh, don’t do that,” Mom said. “The girl has no money. That’s why she was willing to come back to Atlanta to get involved with you again, Thatcher.”
I glared at her. “You knew she wasn’t interested in me. You knew she just wanted money. What is wrong with you?”
Bryce looked equally disgusted. “She’ll be flush with cash right now. I bet someone paid her a fortune for those pictures.”