The Prenup Read online Lauren Layne

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Funny, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
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“Thanks for coming in,” Gordon says, leading us into a small office that smells like old coffee. He gestures for us to sit.

Price waits until we’re seated, his gaze flicking between the two of us before he gives us a bland smile. “You’re wondering why you’re here. Why you got that letter.”

“Yes,” Colin says, as I nod, remembering that for the purpose of this interview, we agreed to do things Colin-style. Less is more; don’t talk too much.

“Well, I’ll come right out with it,” Price says. “We received a letter. An email, actually. Someone made the suggestion that perhaps your marriage came about due to Mr. Walsh’s desire to become an American citizen.”

“Who?” I demand. “Who wrote that letter?”

“Charlotte,” Colin says in a low warning tone.

Price smiles, and it’s not really nice, but it’s not mean, either. To be fair, I don’t think this guy wants to be here any more than we do, he’s just doing his job.

“I’m afraid that’s confidential information, but we do take these allegations seriously and do our due diligence to follow-up. Oftentimes, I get all the reassurance I need that everything is fine with a bit of my own research. But with you two, I have to admit a couple of things did look a little odd to me. Which is why you’re here today.” He reaches for a file on his desk. “Now, Ms. Spencer—it is Spencer, yes?”

“Yes. I kept my maiden name,” I say, then bite the inside of my lip to keep myself from babbling on about how it’s nothing to apologize for and lots of women do it these days.

“Ms. Spencer, am I understanding correctly that your primary residence has been in California?”

Oh dear. I swallow. “Yes.”

“And Mr. Walsh. You live here, primarily. In New York.”

“Yes.”

Price closes the folder again and leans back in his chair, studying us. “Has that always been the case?”

“Mostly,” Colin says casually. “Charlie moved back to the city a few weeks ago.”

Charlie. Nice touch, although I’ve never heard him call me that ever.

“Why?” Price asks.

“I’m sorry?” Colin asks politely.

“Why did you move back?” Price addresses the question to me.

I give him the rueful smile I’ve been practicing in the mirror for days. “Maturity, I guess. I’ve always been pretty driven in my career, and if I’m being honest, I’ve let that take top priority the past few years. My job needed me in California, so I was in California.”

“And that’s changed?”

“Yes.” On this at least, I’m quite clear and can answer honestly. “My parents live here, and it sort of hit me that they’re not getting any younger. And Colin’s here, and I realized I want a different sort of marriage than we’ve had this past decade.”

Price’s eyes narrow. “A different sort of marriage … to be honest, what you two have had doesn’t look like any marriage at all.”

Ooof. The man has surprisingly sharp teeth.

He continues, reciting facts we already know, but that sound really bad said aloud. “You live on different coasts. Three hours’ time difference. Ms. Walsh, you’ve founded a very successful social media company, you’re quite active on social media yourself, and yet there’s not a single mention or photo of your husband. Your relationship status isn’t even mentioned.”

“Social media is my job. I deliberately keep my private life private.”

Gordon Price stares at me hard, and I try to keep my return gaze steady but non-confrontational. Nothing to see here.

His eyes shift back to Colin. “Mr. Walsh, how many times did you go to California to visit your wife?”

“Not as many as I’d like.”

Good answer. He’s good at this.

“I’m sure. But how many times? Estimate for me,” Gordon says with a deceptively casual tone.

Shit. Shit.

Colin pauses for a long moment. “I didn’t travel much to California.”

“Hmm,” Price says with a wan smile. “I’m not really a fan of the Golden State myself. So then, Ms. Spencer. You must have been the one to fly back to New York.”

Less is more; don’t babble.

I nod, even as my heart pounds. I knew this would come up, but I expected to have a few softball questions to warm up first. What side of the bed he slept on. His boss’s name. What he gave me for Christmas.

Damn it, I know the name of his childhood cat and that he had a brown barn! Ask me that!

Gordon Price does not ask me that.

“Ms. Spencer, how many times did you fly out to New York during the entirety of your marriage? Because I have access to flight records, and if the records are correct, I have you making three trips to JFK. Three. In ten years. And him not flying out to see you once?”

This is not going well. This is really not going well.

It’s time for Plan B. A Plan B that I kind-of-sort-of didn’t mention to Colin. He is not going to love it.


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