Chapter Twenty-One
Gigi
S ushi arrives, and we eat as we work through more details. We’ll go to my lawyer for the prenup, so his family’s lawyers stay out of it. I went online and changed my address. We’ll get married on December ninth. Then, sometime around March, we’ll start the downfall of our relationship and be divorced by summer.
I snag the last dumpling, and he finishes his whiskey. “I think we have it all here. We just didn’t talk about finances.”
I wipe my hands with a napkin and lean back. “Fifty-fifty is fine with me.”
He shakes his head. “I make more than you do. It wouldn’t be right. We’ll do thirty-seventy.”
“Marcus, I can pay my own way.” I pause, then look at him. “How do you know that you make more than I do?”
He shifts uneasily on the couch cushion. “Gigi, I make a lot of money. It’s the only positive part of working for my father.”
I’m curious. “How much is a lot?”
He huffs out an annoyed breath. Grabbing his phone, he taps the screen and then turns it to me. I take the phone from his hand. “That’s one of my savings accounts.”
I look down and see a number with eight figures. “What the hell, Marcus?”
“My grandfather left me an inheritance, and I’m compensated well by my father.”
He lives so simply. His house is beautiful, but it’s a normal suburban home. His truck is huge, but nothing different from what a contractor would drive. It makes me wonder what other secrets he’s hiding.
I hand the phone back to him. “Well, even though you’re Mr. Moneybags, I still can pay my own way.”
“I don’t doubt that, but I wouldn’t feel right if you paid more than needed. You can contribute a little, and technically, you would still be helping, but you can also save up a little nest egg while you’re here.”
“I don’t know.”
“Consider it my wedding present.” He turns his head, smiling.
I roll my eyes. “Alright.”
He shuts his laptop. “Christ, it’s nine-thirty already.”
I stretch. “I think I’m going to take a shower and head to bed.”
“Same.” He turns toward me. “Thank you again for this, Gigi. I don’t deserve this sort of help.”
“Yes you do, prince.”
“If, at any point, this all gets too much, you’re free to back out. I care more about your happiness than that company.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t back out. Mission Ball and Chain will be completed.” I salute him and smile.
“When should we tell the group? I don’t want to lie to them, and I trust them to keep things quiet.”
“Audrey wanted everyone to come over for the game this weekend. We can do it then.”
“Sounds good.” He rises from the couch, grabbing his glass from the end table. I hop up and walk toward the hall.
“Good night, husband.”
He shakes his head. “Good night, princess.”