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Mr. Gravois appeared to be getting tipsy. His voice went up a notch, even drowning out the classical music coming through the invisible speakers of the elegant dining room.
His wife gave him a stern look and pulled his glass away. “Let’s wait for our meal to arrive,” she murmured in a low voice.
Her husband pursed his lips and moved it back into place, his fingers twisting around the glass. “I think while we wait for our food to arrive, now is as good a time as any to take care of business.”
Wade’s chin jerked up as he stared at his future father-in-law. “What business might that be, sir?”
“I have it right here, son,” Mr. Gravois said with a Cheshire Cat smile. He reached down to retrieve a briefcase he’d placed at his side that Wade hadn’t noticed, since he and his wife had arrived first and were seated before he and Lydia arrived.
Clicking open the briefcase’s gold clasps, Mr. Gravois pulled out a file folder with a sheath of papers at least half an inch thick.
At the sight of the folder, Wade’s alarm radar went on high alert. His back straightened into a steely rod.
Mr. Gravois cleared his throat, took a pair of reading glasses from the breast pocket of his suit, perched them on his nose, and flipped open the cover.
“This here is a prenuptial agreement for you and Lydia to sign tonight,” he announced, his New Orleans accent growing thicker as if it added to his no-nonsense tone. “Before wedding plans go any further, we thought it best to have a frank and upfront conversation on a number of issues, both financial and familial.”
“A conversation or a contract?” Wade said, trying to keep his tone light. “Seems you came prepared for the latter before we even discussed the need for anything.”
Lydia widened her eyes at him and tried to shush him, placing a hand on Wade’s coat sleeve. “It’s just a simple agreement so everything is fair, and nobody gets hurt down the road, darling. I’ll bet you already have one filled out yourself.”
Wade turned toward his fiancée, looking her straight in the eye. “No, a prenuptial contract never even crossed my mind. Marriage, to me, is for the rest of our lives. For better or worse. In sickness or health. Until death do we part.”
Lydia laughed softly. “You can be so old-fashioned, Mr. Wade Kennedy,” she purred in a soft drawl. “That’s one thing I love about you. But you’re also very sweet,” she murmured seductively before leaning in to kiss his lips.
Wade flinched, but tried to hold it in, pulling away as quickly and gently as he could to take a sip from his glass of ice water.
He didn’t care for such a public physical gesture, especially at such a high-class restaurant—or in front of his future in-laws who were staring at them with expressions of shock. Or was it societal disgust?
Mr. Gravois pressed his lips together and gulped down the rest of his whiskey. When he cleared his throat, he also threw a pointed glance at his wife.
Wade tried not to scoff at the entire scene. He was perturbed, but he also knew Lydia was one hundred percent a modern woman with a mind of her own and no shy, simpering Southern woman—even if she played one occasionally.
But he had to remind himself that many Southern women could be manipulative and conniving—while pouring on the flirtatious charm and affection.
With a shock of awareness, he swiftly knew that was exactly what Lydia was doing.
“Now, young man,” her father said, rustling the sheaf of papers. “I think you should know why we are insisting on this . . .”
Insisting?Wade tried not to betray his shock, but let the man keep going. If he tried to stop him, it would only result in a public argument or uncomfortable scene. Above all, he did not want to embarrass Mrs. Gravois or Lydia.
But perhaps they were in on it? He gave a quick glance around the table and the two women appeared to be calm. Smiling even.
“Now hear me out, son,” Mr. Gravois continued while Wade winced again at the familial term. “Our daughter is set to inherit a great deal of assets—money, investment portfolios, and an estate in the country when her grandparents are gone.”
“And they’re not getting any younger!” Mrs. Gravois added as if to emphasis the point that Lydia’s inheritance could be sooner rather than later. Even so, the comment was quite crass, as if they were hoping the grandparents kicked the bucket as soon as possible.
Her husband continued as if he hadn’t heard his wife. “This agreement is to protect our daughter from any unforeseen circumstances. Whatever form those circumstances might take.”
Wade cringed at the implications of his words, but he held his tongue and attempted to hold his decorum in check as well.
Mr. Gravois continued in a firm tone, staring straight into Wade’s face. “Weallwant to ensure that Lydia and any offspring she might have will be taken care of. Prenuptials also make divorce court simple and less painful for everyone involved. And assures us that our grandchildren of the future are taken care of.”
Tempted to punch the guy in the mouth, Wade gritted his teeth and finally spoke, trying to keep his voice calm and reasonable. “Lydia and I aren’t even married yet. There is no firm wedding date set and you’re already talking about divorce court. I find your unfounded insinuations to be impugning my character.”
Philip Gravois puffed up his chest. “I will protect my daughter and our family assets at any cost.”
Just then the waiter arrived bearing salad plates. Wade took a deep breath, downing the rest of his soda while the man arranged the breadbasket in the center after laying the salad plates.
