15
JAMES
My day is so packed with meetings, I don't make it into the gym until well after noon. I find Nate standing next to a weight rack. He takes out his headphones and nods in greeting.
“How's wedding planning?” I ask.
He winces. “Excruciating. How’s married life?”
I grunt in response. Our other friends would have demanded more information, but Nate's like me. He shares as much as he wants to share.
I'd rather not reflect on my conversation with Maura last night. I didn't mean to react so coldly, but it felt like we both needed to be reminded of the terms of our relationship. Sex is merely procreative. I acted impulsively last night, walking out in the rain with her and laying her down on the floor of the apartment. No matter how good it felt to watch her ride my cock, it put us in danger of blurring the lines of our relationship. Our relationship should be built around clear boundaries and mutual respect, not impulse and short-term desire.
I spoke impulsively, too, with that comment about optics. I was trying to justify our lapse of judgment, and I ended up insulting her. I wish I could forget the hurt that flashed acrossher face. I should have been more careful with her feelings, especially so soon after her negative pregnancy test.
Several times, I thought about going into her bedroom to apologize. I decided it wasn't worth interrupting her sleep. She'd probably forget about it and move on by morning. It's not like she harbors any emotional attachment for me, either.
I point to Nate's weight rack. “Need a spotter?”
He nods. “Sure.”
For the next hour we work out, first on the weights, then on the treadmills. We don't exchange more than a dozen words the entire time. We don’t need to; I appreciate Nate’s quiet companionship. He knows when words aren't needed.
When we're finished, I consider going up to my apartment for a shower. I could check on Maura and make sure she's doing well. Then again, I'm sure she appreciates having the apartment to herself. I don't want to interrupt her solitude.
Instead, I head back to the Sequel building and use the shower in my private executive bathroom. When the hot water pounds down on my back, I'm reminded of the way the icy rain felt on my face yesterday. I still don't know what made me go outside and join her. Something about the way she looked so happy in the downpour made me wonder if I could ever have the same reaction. If there was something freeing about embracing chaos.
Maybe I'll never understand her wild streak, because I felt more cold than free. Warming up inside with her afterward was much more satisfying. At least when my assistant dropped off my suit at the dry cleaner’s, they said it would be easily cleaned and reshaped.
Stepping out of the shower, I dry off my body and let my thoughts disperse. I dress quickly in one of my spare suits and head back to my office. As I walk to my desk, an unusual nameappears on my phone—Jeremy Flynn, the head of my personal accounting firm. Frowning, I pick up.
“Hello?”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Keller. We haven’t spoken since you were married. Congratulations.”
I grunt in acknowledgment, waiting for him to get on with it.
“Your wife is the reason I'm calling actually.”
My brows raise. “What do you mean?”
Jeremy clears his throat. “Your wife has made a number of charges on your AMEX today and I wanted to be sure you were aware of them.”
I rub my temple. I already know this conversation will be a waste of my time. Maura can spend whatever she wants, as far as I’m concerned—it’s not like there’s any limit to my bank account. A fact I explained to Jeremy in detail over a several-hour conversation we had about my finances before my marriage. “My wife has full access to do whatever she wants with my cards. I’m sure you remember that, after our very long discussion.”
“I remember clearly, Mr. Keller. I wouldn’t have said anything, but what I'm seeing is…to be frank, excessive.”
My jaw clenches. I don't like this man, who I speak to at most once a year, to be giving me any information about Maura, as if she doesn't have every right to my money. I have half a mind to tell him to fuck off and mind his own business, but I know he's only doing his job. He’s supposed to protect my assets from everything, including my own judgment. “I'll review the expenses myself, but let me be clear. If I don’t find a problem with them, then I never want to hear you tell me that mywifehas spent too much, ever again.”
“Yes, of course. I'm so sorry to bother you, Mr. Keller,” Jeremy says quickly, right before I hang up.
Sitting down in my desk chair, I pull up my American Express app on my phone and scroll through the charges fromtoday. It takes a surprisingly long time to scroll down to the bottom, and I find myself biting back an amused smile. It seems that Maura started shopping early and didn't stop. The first charges come in sporadically between nine and ten. They're all at individual art stores, and none come over $100.
Quickly though, that begins to change.
The next dozen orders are all for various gemstones. They range from $500 to $2000, pricey, but not exorbitant. Far less than most society women would spend on a shopping trip.
My eyebrows only raise when I see that she spent over $200,000 at Pottery Barn Kids. She must have bought out practically the entire store. Another $50,000 was spent at a local children's boutique. It seems my wife went on a variable shopping spree, buying more clothes, toys, and furniture than our child would ever need.
