Anything But Mine (21 page)

Laura looked towards the desk, and at the framed photo of Drew and Jen taken the night of the charity auction.
He doesn’t have a framed photo of him with his girlfriend, but he has one of him with Jen,
she silently observed.
It’s clear who he truly loves.
“If you think going back to New York now will change things, then you should go and try to fight for her. It isn’t over until she says ‘I do’.”

“I can’t go back now. I’m committed to helping dad, and trying to grow the business here. Dad needs me. If I went back there I’d be unemployed. How can I compete with a billionaire?” He took a deep breath, and said, “Besides, it’s all my fault. I should have fought for her when I had the chance, and not let the distance keep us apart. Instead, I pushed her away.”

“What do you mean?”

“I told Jen we had no future together, not as long as I was living here. I told her to get on with her life, to forget about me, and to forget about us. And she did.”

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

“T
he weather isn’t cooperating with your pool plans,” Vince said, as he looked out the French doors to Jennifer’s Southampton back yard and observed the gray, overcast sky. “What do you want to do today?”

Looking up from her knitting, Jen replied, “I don’t know. Want to go to the movies?”

“On a gloomy Saturday in late August? The movie theaters will be packed, with all the tourists having nothing to do. Want to just go for a drive instead?”

“Okay. Where do you want to go?”

Vince glanced at the screen of his cell phone, and replied to a text message before answering, “Let’s just get in the car and see where we end up.”

“Sounds good,” Jen said, as she put down her knitting needles and followed Vince out the door.

Vince maneuvered the Lamborghini down the driveway and onto Edge of Woods Road, before turning onto Long Springs Road, then Mecox Road, and finally onto North Main Street before crossing Route 27.

“Why are we heading into the village? We’re going to hit a ton of traffic.”

Vince grinned, as he glanced towards Jen. “I have a little surprise for you.”

A few minutes later, when Vince maneuvered the Lamborghini through the open gates of Fair Fields, a majestic home on Ox Pasture Road in the heart of Southampton’s estate section, Jen was momentarily confused. “Vince, what is going on?”

“Let’s take a look,” he replied, gesturing towards Alan Piersall, who was standing in the open front doorway.

Jen listened intently as Alan described Fair Fields while they ambled through the magnificent 18,000 square foot, 12-
bedroom
, 14-
bath
home. On more than one occasion, Jen’s breath was taken away, as she admired the coffered ceilings in some of the rooms, and the ornate woodwork in other rooms, the indoor kitchen with a large wood-
burning
hearth, the two outdoor kitchens, indoor and outdoor pools, pool house, fully-
equipped
gym, tennis court, greenhouse, arbors, fountain, and separate staff quarters.

After spending nearly an hour inspecting every inch of the 15-
acre
property, Vince pulled her aside for a private word, out of earshot of Alan, and asked, “What do you think, Jennifer?”

“I’m actually a little stunned, Vince.”

“Well, if you like the house, if you want it, just say the word, and I’ll buy it.”

“Just like that?” she asked, somewhat bewildered, having not yet fully wrapped her head around the concept of just walking into an estate of the size, significance and enormous price tag that was Fair Fields, and making a snap decision to buy it.

“Just like that,” Vince replied.

“Do you like it?” Jen asked.

“I’ve been looking at houses out here for a few weeks, but never mentioned it to you because I wanted to narrow down the choices before bringing you to look at them. There are two others that I also like, but this is my favorite, and wanted you to see it first.”

“I can’t believe you would do that. I thought you liked my house,” she said, hurt and confused, as she defensively crossed her arms in front of her.

“Jennifer, I do like your house,” Vince said, as he put his arms around her in an attempt to placate her. “It’s a nice house. But I’ve also made it clear to you that I want to buy a more appropriate house for us out here, one more commensurate with my position and status. Like I said, I narrowed down some choices, and wanted you to see my three favorites before I make an offer on one of them. After all, the house I buy will ultimately be our house. So, if you like this house, I’ll buy it. It’s as simple as that.”

“But, Vince…” she said, her voice trailing off.

“Jennifer,” he said, dragging out the syllables of her name as if talking to a child. “Please be reasonable.”

This is a battle I can’t win,
she realized, sighing. “I don’t know if I can make a decision that quickly, Vince. You’ve been looking at houses for a while without me, so you’ve had time to think about things,” Jen said, as she wandered through the first floor of the home, with Vince trailing behind her. She stopped when she got to the kitchen, taking her time inspecting the appliances and glass-
front
cabinets, before running a hand over the enormous stone hearth. “This is a beautiful home, but I feel like I can’t make such an important decision without seeing the other two houses you selected.”

“Then let’s go look at the other two.”

That afternoon, Alan brought Jen and Vince to two other homes, also in Southampton. One was a modern all-
glass
oceanfront mansion on Meadow Lane, which Jen nixed almost immediately. “One major hurricane, and it’s all over,” she said, noticing the slight smile that had crept onto Vince’s face. “Also, I don’t like that it can’t be properly gated or secured. I wouldn’t want to stay here alone.” The other home was a much older, traditional oceanfront mansion on Gin Lane, but with fewer rooms, and less property than Fair Fields. Jen carefully inspected the bathrooms, kitchen and windows, and pointed out the enormous amount of work that would be needed to properly modernize and winterize the house. “We both like coming out here year-
round
, Vince, and this house needs a lot of work.”

Vince said nothing, but nodded his head in agreement while admiring his savvy fiancée. After a moment, he asked, “So, what do you think?”

“I think we’re on the same page, Vince. If these are the three top houses on the market, there is no question that Fair Fields is the far superior property.”

“Alan,” Vince called out, summoning the real estate broker to his side. “We want to go back and take another look at Fair Fields.”

Within the hour, Vince made an offer just under the $45,000,000 asking price, leaving Jen speechless when she heard him say, “The terms will be all cash. I want to close as soon as possible.”

At Vince’s urging, Jen skipped walking in all but one of the shows during fashion week that September, although she insisted on participating in Grant Glasso’s show. The morning of the show, while they were getting dressed, Jen once again explained why she was in a rush to get to the tents at Lincoln Center, where the show was being held. “Mr. Glasso gave me my start, and I owe him my entire career,” she reasoned with Vince when he repeatedly questioned why she decided to work the show.

“You don’t need the money, Jennifer. Once you’re my wife, you’ll never have to work again,” Vince replied. “So I don’t know why you’re thinking about your career.”

It wasn’t the first time Vince brought up the subject of her not working after their marriage. This time, like all the previous times he mentioned that she wouldn’t have to work following their wedding, tied Jen’s stomach up in knots. Trying to reason with him, she countered with a technique that she had learned through much trial-
and
-
error
over the course of their relationship, “It isn’t so much about my career, Vince. It’s about loyalty. I really couldn’t turn Mr. Glasso down when he called and personally asked me to work the show.” She smiled sweetly at her fiancé, walking towards him as he was adjusting his tie, and wrapping her arms around him. “I know how much you value loyalty, Vince,” she whispered softly as she lightly nibbled at his ear.

Any irritation Vince felt over his fiancée’s work melted away as her lips traveled from his ear, down his neck and up towards his lips, ending in a lingering kiss. “I value your loyalty most of all, Jennifer,” he said with a grin, before grabbing his suit jacket and heading out the door.

While getting her hair done and makeup applied later that morning, Jen drank in all the sights and sounds backstage, with the bittersweet knowledge that this would probably be one of her last fashion week runway appearances.
I always knew my career as a model would have a short shelf life, but I had hoped to squeeze out a few more years.
She mused that, even though it was torture, she would miss the craziness of each of the fashion weeks she participated in the past few years.
But I’ll still have my Desiree’s Desire contract, cosmetics contract, and occasional photo shoots to keep me busy,
she thought, hoping it would be enough to occupy her time.

Jen worried that, without her work, she would climb the walls out of boredom. She reflected back on a conversation she’d had with Vince a few days earlier, when he reminded her that he wanted to start trying to have children immediately after their wedding. “Once you’re pregnant, you’ll be busy decorating a nursery and interviewing nannies and nurses, and you won’t have time for modeling,” he said. “And, besides, you also have a lot of work to do on the house in Southampton.”

Southampton. That had been a surprise,
she thought, still trying to wrap her head around Vince’s purchase of Fair Fields.
I thought once he stopped mentioning that he wanted to buy “a more appropriate house”, it was because he had become accustomed to living in my house. Wow, was I ever wrong,
she thought, remembering the day a few weeks back when he suggested they go for a drive.
He was positively giddy when he came home from the closing the other night and showed me a copy of the deed.

“Earth to Jen, earth to Jen.” The sound of her agent’s voice snapped her back to reality. “It’s almost time to do that behind-
the
-
scenes
interview with Inside Access.”

Jen turned and looked at Mike, who had become a friend to her during the course of her modeling career. “I guess I was lost in my thoughts. Sorry about that.” She glanced at herself in the mirror and smiled at her reflection.
I’ve come so far, and grown so much, since my first runway show five years ago,
she thought as she stood and followed Mike towards the chairs set up for her interview at the other end of the backstage area.

As she walked past the other girls, they all stared at her.
At least they aren’t teasing me anymore,
Jen thought. Once she had begun dating Vince, the mocking she had endured about her relationship with Chris stopped, and now that she and Vince were engaged, her fellow models regarded her with a sense of awe, as if she had reached some sort of mythical level of achievement in the marrying-
well
department.

After she completed the interview, Jen hurriedly changed, finishing just in time to lead off the show, entering the runway to camera flashes and Tom Petty’s “American Girl” blaring from the sound system.

The rest of the show was a blur to Jen. After the finale, she joined Grant Glasso and the other models for some champagne. When it was time to leave, she said, with a catch in her throat, “Thank you, Mr. Glasso, for everything you’ve done for me.”

“Jen, you’re like a daughter to me,” Grant replied in his signature raspy voice, pulling her in for hug. “Both our lives changed that day in my shop on Job’s Lane. And this isn’t goodbye. Even though you’re not doing runway anymore, you’re still the face of my label, and you’ll always be my muse.”

Jen nodded her head as she wiped away a tear. “See you later tonight at the party,” she said, as she grabbed her tote bag and turned towards the exit.

Once she was settled into the cool, quiet backseat of her limousine for the short ride across Central Park, Jen retrieved her cell phone from the bottom of her tote bag, and saw that she had missed a call from Renata Marks, one of the city’s top family and divorce attorneys, who she had retained to negotiate her and Vince’s pre-
nuptial
agreement.

She returned the call, and listened as Renata explained, “I’m meeting with Vince’s friend and personal attorney, Seth Jacobs, and Joel Birnbaum, Vince’s matrimonial attorney, next week to draft the terms of the pre-
nuptial
agreement, so you need to start to think about what you want, and don’t want, in the agreement.”

“But, Renata, I don’t know where to begin,” Jen said. “I really don’t want to think about divorce, when I’m not even married yet.”

“Jen, this is not something you can ignore and hope it goes away,” Renata replied. “I already have your tax returns for the last few years, and your financial statements that list your assets and liabilities, so you don’t have to do anything in that regard,” she said. “But you do need to figure out what you want, financially, should the marriage end in divorce.”

Thinking about the end of her marriage before the wedding had even taken place was a hard reality check for Jen. Once she arrived back in the Fifth Avenue apartment, Mary offered her something to eat, but Jen declined, explaining that she wasn’t feeling well. Instead, she retreated to the library, where she spent the hours before Vince came home knitting, and thinking about what she could possibly ask for in the pre-
nuptial
agreement.
I don’t know where to start or what is reasonable. I really need to meet with Renata in order to understand where to begin.