Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
VALERIE
FYNN HOLDS MY hand tight as we make our way into the bank. When he told me he had to come here this morning, I invited myself along. My life has been up in the air for weeks now, and, thanks to him, I finally feel like I can drag it back down to the ground where it can grow roots.
The first step to doing that is transferring all my funds here.
Well. Maybe that's not the first step. The first step was probably marrying Fynn, I just didn't know it at the time.
My new husband leads me straight through the lobby, not even bothering to check in. That's probably one of many luxuries afforded to people who have the kind of money he does. Lucky me, I get to use it to my own advantage. Instead of sitting in a chair waiting for someone to have the time to help me, I’m ushered directly into an office, then offered a comfortable seat and a beverage.
The woman across the desk from us clearly knows Fynn, and they chat about things like the weather and the tourists it brings while Fynn’s tea and my coffee are brought in for us. Once the door is closed though, it's all business. And my husband comes out swinging.
"I'd like to add my wife to all of my accounts."
I'm not sure which one of us is more surprised, the banker, or me.
I nearly choke on my drink, barely managing to keep it from spewing out as I carefully set the cup onto the desk. "I'm sorry, what?"
He turns to me. "You're my wife. Why wouldn't you be on my accounts?"
I feel like that is sort of a no-brainer. Yes, we have decided to stay married, but we've still only known each other for a very short period of time. And in that time, I haven't exactly been the most forthcoming. "I think you should wait."
Fynn almost looks amused as he studies me. "For?"
"I don't know." How does a person know when it's the right time to start muddying the waters? I haven't got a clue. All I know is if I was him, I wouldn't do it.
Me, on the other hand...
I turn from him to look at the woman across the desk. "I have some money of my own that I’d like to transfer here from another bank. Can you do that?" I sit up a little straighter, thinking I'm in the process of wedging my husband between a rock and a hard place as I offer him a little smile. "And of course we can put my husband on those accounts too."
I expect Fynn to argue. For him to say what's mine is mine—that seems like how he would feel about this situation—but once again, he surprises me.
After clapping his hands together, he offers our banker friend a smile. "Excellent. We’re all in agreement then."
Well. Shit.
It's not that I don't want him on my accounts. I could care less if he has access to my money. I'm sure what I’ve managed to accrue in my life is a pittance compared to what he has. And honestly, Fynn’s shown he deserves to be on my accounts. I can’t say the same for myself.
It's my own fault. I’ve lied by omission. Put him in compromising positions. Assaulted a woman in his office—
I don’t actually feel bad about that last one, and maybe that makes me even worse.
But Fynn seems unconcerned about all of that because he’s already signing papers. I want to keep arguing, but the banker is pushing papers at me so I can fill out the information she needs to transfer my funds and I'm left with no option but to open my phone and start transferring over routing and account numbers as Fynn goes about his business beside me.
I don't need any of his money. I know I won't touch a penny of it. But he doesn't know that, and I feel fucking awful about it.
After all the papers are filled out and signed, the woman takes them and leaves us alone, giving me the opportunity I’ve been waiting for. I turn to Fynn, giving him my most serious face. "You really don't need to put me on your accounts. I have money of my own and I can use it now that I don't have to worry about someone finding me every time I swipe my card."
Fynn leans closer, resting one arm across the back of my chair. "And what if something were to happen to me? There are bills that will still need to be paid, Val. Business that will still need to be handled and if no one has access to my accounts, that won't happen."
I stare at him because I’m a little worried he’s lost it. "But I don't know how to handle your business, so having access to your accounts won't really help."
A slow smile works across his lips. "That's why you'll be learning about my business, Darling." He leans in and presses a kiss to my lips, holding my chin between his thumb and finger. "You didn't expect me to let my mother be the only one who takes advantage of those fancy degrees you have, did you?"
My throat goes tight, and for the second time in two days I feel like I'm going to cry. "You want me to work with you?"
His hand leaves my face, to skim up my calf. "Of course. I plan to use that brilliant mind every way possible." His touch traces higher, sliding past my knee and up my thigh, tracing along my skin under the full fabric of my summery dress. "I’d also like to take advantage of having you at my fingertips all day."
My breath seizes as those same fingertips climb higher, tracing along the strip of cotton covering my pussy.
I shouldn't encourage him, but I can't help it. Holding his gaze, I barely shift in my seat, parting my thighs.
Fynn growls low in his throat, leaning in. "Wicked woman." His mouth claims mine, tongue slicking between my lips as one finger hooks into the leg hole of my panties, teasing underneath the polka dot printed fabric.
I'm spreading my legs a little more, heart racing in anticipation as the door opens and the banker comes in. Thankfully her eyes are glued to the papers in her hands, so she doesn't notice as Fynn discreetly removes his fingers from my panties and slides them free of my skirt.
"Okay, Mrs. Hadaway." She takes the first set of papers and puts them down in front of me, spreading them out. "Your transfers are pending and should be cleared within the next couple of days."
I separate the pages, so I can check the amounts even though I’ve kept a close eye on them through the app on my phone. My father didn’t have access to my accounts, but I didn’t put it past him to find a way to use them against me. Luckily, everything looks right. "That's great. Thank you so much—"
Fynn grabs away one of the papers, bringing it closer. He stares at it a second before turning to look at me. "Wife." The word carries a hint of irritation.
I give him a little smile. "Yes, husband?"
He sets the paper displaying my primary savings account down between us. "Why is there a million dollars in this account?"
I glance at the woman across the desk before looking back at Fynn. I don't necessarily want to explain this in front of her, so I hold up one finger. "Would you give us just a minute?"
Her smile is tight as she nods. "Of course."
I wait until she leaves and the door is closed before I begin. "I was in the process of moving some of my investment funds around when I left Minneapolis. I was concerned about needing to access them, so I arranged for everything to be liquidated and put into this account temporarily." It was the first phone call I made when I stopped my rental car to pick up a burner phone. After transferring over any important numbers, I took my old phone apart and destroyed it, leaving the pieces in random garbage cans when I stopped to pee.
I’d been stupid for many years, but I wasn't dumb enough to think my father wouldn't steal every penny of mine he could get his hand on.
Fynn’s eyes stay on my face as he reaches over to trap another of the papers under his finger, dragging it across the desk before finally glancing down at the numbers on it. "For the love of—"
“Again, I was very much in a rush and just had to put everything somewhere I knew my father would have the most difficult time getting to it." My father might not be as powerful as he wants to be, but I didn't put it past him to attempt to influence the man who handled my investments, so I pulled everything within an hour of driving away, sending it all straight into my bank accounts.
"These are only insured up to—"
"I know." I steal back my papers, stacking them together before tapping them into a neat line. "The money was never meant to be there for an extended period of time. It was just temporary."
Fynn scrubs one hand over his face as he lifts his phone, eyes on me as he makes a call. "It's Fynn Hadaway. I need your earliest appointment." He taps one finger against the desk. "Excellent. We will see you in a few hours." He sets his phone onto the desk. "Apparently, we will also be making a visit to my investment banker this afternoon."
I expect for him to reach for the door to let the banker back in, but instead he leans close, lips coasting against my ear. "I'm very proud of the amount of money you've accrued, my lovely wife. Feel free to do with it as you choose, as long as you don't leave it sitting in a savings account with an interest rate that is criminal."
After kissing my temple, he leans back and opens the door, leaving me grinning like an idiot for the rest of the appointment.
We finish our business with the bank, and when I leave I have a brand-new debit card for my own checking account, as well as one for Fynn’s coming in the mail. We stop for a quick lunch, and then go into the office. But instead of going up to Fynn’s floor when we reach the building, we head to an unmarked office at the back of the main floor. The man inside the small space stands as we enter. "Mr. Hadaway. Is everything okay with your office?"
"My office is beautiful, Jason, however I find myself in need of more space. Will there be anything larger opening up soon?"
Jason turns to his computer, scrolling through a few pages before giving Fynn options. "The space directly across the hall from you will be open three months from now, but it doesn't have as nice of a view as where you're at currently." He clicks a few more times. "However, the space directly above you is coming available next month. It is a significant amount more—"
"We'll take it." He laces his fingers with mine. "Is it available for my designer to come through and take measurements?"
Jason leans back in his seat, intertwining his fingers before hooking them behind his head. "I'm sure I can arrange for time after business hours with the current tenant."
"Excellent." Fynn is already halfway out the door, tugging me alongside him. "We'll be in touch." He leads me to the elevator.
I glance back at the building manager’s office as we wait for it to arrive. “Does he know you own the building?”
Fynn shrugs, like it’s an irrelevant fact.
I start to laugh. I can’t help it.
He lifts a brow at me. “What?”
The elevator arrives and we step inside. I turn to him as the doors close. “I just don’t understand how so many people believed Jessica’s bullshit. You don’t even pull rank in your own fucking building for God’s sake.”
Fynn appears genuinely puzzled. “Why would I?” The elevator doors open and we walk out into the hall. “A bigger office will be lovely, yes, but I can’t say being forced to share a desk would be a tragedy.” He shoots me a grin. “Especially if you plan to continue wearing dresses like that to work.”
“I actually prefer suits.” I purse my lips, pondering. “But I guess they probably won’t be as comfortable to wear here as they were up north.”
“Pity.” Fynn sighs dramatically, but his gaze is hungry as it skims down my body, hanging on the full fabric of my skirt. “I suppose you’ll simply have to continue wearing these much more accommodating sun dresses.”
My skin is fully flushed and my body is throbbing when we walk into Fynn’s office and discover his assistant, Brian, flailing around the space, looking distressed.
When his eyes come my way I’m pretty sure I’m the cause.
“Someone was just here asking when you would be in.” He looks from me to Fynn. “I think it was a server for the courts.”
“That was fast.” Fynn doesn’t sound surprised as he keeps moving, leading me into his office. “I expected it to take her a few days to come up with a list of offenses.”
I glance back at Brian and find him following right behind us. He’s got a notepad in his hands and I wonder if it’s the list of things Fynn has going on today or the list of things he’s stressing out over.
Actually, those are probably the same thing.
I get it. As someone who obsessed over what other people thought of me I understand how being anxious can become a way of life.
But it’s fucking soul sucking and leaves you faced with two options. You either tell everyone to go fuck themselves or live your life according to someone else’s opinions. I’m learning to do the former, so maybe I can drag Brian along with me.
“You’ve got a nine o’clock telephone conference with Rogers about the deal on the place in Cape Coral.” Brian sits down in the chair across from Fynn’s desk as he continues laying out the day, rattling off a collection of meetings to be had and emails that need to be sent. His words die off and he looks my way again. “Plus a court clerk showing up in there somewhere.” I don’t miss the shady hint in his tone and while I get it, I’m still irritated.
But I’m not the only one, because my husband straightens, one brow lifting as he stares the other man down. “I’m sure you’re not insinuating anything about my wife.”
Brian shifts in his seat a little, but doesn’t back down. “Do I need to insinuate that her interaction with Jessica is going to cause problems? Because that seems to be factual at this point.”
Okay… Maybe Brian and I aren’t as similar as I first thought. He seems totally cool with standing up for hi mself and his thoughts, so maybe high-strung is just his natural state.
Or preferred state.
“What is factual is that Jessica came here with ill intent.” Fynn steps between me and Brian, as if he can protect me from his assistant’s opinion. “The feed from the security camera will show she was the one who attempted to make the confrontation physical first.” His big body blocks my view of Brian, so I can’t see his reaction, but I’m hoping he’s been knocked down a peg. “The audio for it will also include her admission to slandering me out of spite and anger, so I’m sure my attorney’s response to whatever claim she’s filed will shut it down immediately.”
I close my eyes, wishing I could bask in Fynn’s defense of me a little more. I can’t though because, once again, I’m making his life difficult. At this point I think I’ve caused more problems than I’ve fixed.
Actually, I’m sure of it.
“Now.” Fynn’s hand comes back to curve against my hip. “If you’ll excuse us, we have work to do.”
He’s been using words like us and we all morning as we went about all our newlywed based errands. Making us out to be a team to everyone from the woman at the license bureau to the guy at the social security office. And while I don’t mind being on Fynn’s team, it sure seems like he’s doing most of the heavy lifting.
I swallow hard as Brian’s feet shuffle across the floor and the door clicks closed behind him.
Fynn drops down into the chair behind his desk, dragging me into his lap. “Have I thanked you properly for getting Jessica to admit her nefarious plan?”
I frown at him. “Considering you’re now being sued because of it, I’d say no thanks are necessary.”
“Ah, but the lawsuit is the best part.” He pulls me closer, tucking my body tighter to his, looking unbothered by this new development. “Because now I get to tell the world exactly what she did with my beautiful, adoring wife at my side.”