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Then open a cupboard, retrieve a wineglass, and fill it to the brim.
I ache. I’m exhausted. I’m freaked out. Drinking the wine, I’m about to head to the island when I see it on the counter.
On top of the stack of mail, the manila envelope from Endeavor. I honestly forgot about it.
My heart in my throat, I set the glass down, and with bated breath, I tear it open.
The results.
Three stapled pages. I need not read past the first one. A big fat “0.” Followed by two more. Triple zeroes. I stare at the numbers until they’re one big blur. ZERO.
I clasp a hand to my mouth.
Now what?
I wish I had a mother who I could confide in and whose shoulder I could cry on. Then, suddenly I remember I do have someone I can turn to. Gershon Loeb, the lovely widowed attorney whose condo I decorated before moving to LA. I waste no time finding his phone number.
Five minutes later I scan him my prenup.
TWENTY-NINE
NED
“No run today?” asks Nurse Marley, who’s sitting at the kitchen island, feeding a bottle to a ravenous Isa.
Our nanny is dressed in her crisp white nurse’s uniform, me dressed in my best custom-made suit, shirt, and tie. I help myself to some coffee and join her.
“Nah, it looked like it was going to rain, plus I had a lot to wrap my head around. I rode my Peloton for a half hour instead.”
“What’s going on?” She adjusts the baby in her arms and looks me up and down, her eyes glinting with approval. “By the way, you look nice.”
“Thanks.” I take a sip of my coffee. “I have an important meeting with our potential Japanese investors this morning at the Polo Lounge.” The Polo Lounge is the legendary restaurant inside the famed Beverly Hills Hotel, where the consortium is staying.
“Isa, my sweetie, wish Daddy good luck.” She mimes a baby voice and says, “Good luck, Dada!” I crack a smile as she sets down the nearly depleted bottle on the counter and glances out the glass doors that lead to the backyard. The sky, pool, and deck area are all shrouded in a gray misty fog.
Marley swings her long platinum ponytail off her shoulder to burp Isa. “The weather does look ominous. I’m going to take Isa out for a short walk before it rains.” She looks up at me, her gaze imploring. “Don’t you want to kiss Isa goodbye in case you’re not here when we come back?”
“Yeah, sure.” I place a light kiss on her scalp. As I do, I inhale the scent of Nurse Marley. I swear she uses the same perfume as Maman. Eau de Lilac, a rare floral cologne my mother had custom-made by an apothecary in Paris. On Maman, it exuded maternal goodness. On Marley, it’s intoxicating. After kissing my kid, I gulp my coffee and force myself to swallow back my heady desire. I’m allowed to fantasize, I tell myself. Right?
I look up and she eyes me as if she’s been reading my mind. “Ned, good luck today. I’m sure you’ll knock them dead.”
“Thanks.”
With a wink, she leaves with the baby, and I hear the front door open and close.
I drain my coffee and glance down at my watch, the waterproof gold Rolex I always wear. Today, I should wear my special watch. My lucky one…
My father’s retro rose-gold-and-diamond Hamilton—a rare model dating to 1942—that belonged to his dad. My paternal grandfather, a man I never met. He died young. Congenital heart failure. He, too, had arrhythmia, but it was a defective gene—pulmonary valve stenosis—that did him in.
After loading my empty coffee mug in the dishwasher, I head back to the bedroom. Ava is still in bed, sound asleep. Making no effort to be quiet, I amble over to my walk-in closet with its racks of color-coded suits, shirts, and ties, and shelves of custom-made Italian shoes, all in their original boxes. There must be over a hundred; I guess you could call me a shoe whore. I keep my treasured heirloom watch in an Amedeo Testoni shoebox located in the back corner, tucked inside the left alligator loafer. I extend an arm and retrieve the box.
I pop off the lid, but when I slide my hand inside the shoe, no metal object makes contact with my fingers.
Panic seizes me. Frantically, I turn the shoe upside down and shake it, then repeat my actions with the other one.
Still nothing. No watch.
I know I put it inside this box. Inside one of the shoes. I could tear the entire closet apart, but I’m positive. One hundred percent positive.
