“I’m not going to attack you, Finley. I’m just going to make you aware of a few things, and then you can decide what to do. You’re a smart guy. And you’re very, very good at acting in your own self-interest.”
“There it is.” He sweeps his free hand through the air, spilling a bit of his drink with the motion. “The lazy, good-for-nothing freeloader, right?”
I wave him away. “That’s all in your mind. That’s all your stupid, petty ego. And I’m done dealing with it. Think whatever you want. About me or anybody else. Fuck whoever you please in your new bachelor pad. All I ask is you listen to me for two minutes.”
“I am…” He pulls out a chair from the kitchen and takes a seat. “…all ears.” He drains his bourbon and sets the glass on the floor.
“Good. Finley, I have said all along, you can have half of the money I make for the rest of my life. That is an incredibly nice deal for you.”
He’s shaking his head.
“You want your money up front. Now I understand why. You want me to cough up basically everything I can liquidate, including the life insurance I took out for ourson, and pay you two million dollars—and then you’ll destroy me with that video. What would you care at that point? You’d have your money. You can watch me suffer. Not to mention our son would suffer, too, but let’s not pretend that you care about anyone but yourself.”
“Oh,fuckyou,” he says, kicking away the chair, arms taut at his sides.
I raise my hand. “My offer stands. I shouldn’t have to pay you half, given that you hardly lifted a finger on any front during our marriage, but I will. What I willnotdo is pay you a singledimein an up-front payment. Your fortunes will be tied to mine. So you want to destroy me, Fin? You want to see me lose my career, maybe go to prison? That willfeelreallygood for about five minutes. And then you’ll realize that you’ve just lost your meal ticket. You’ll have to fend for yourself. This high-flying lifestyle to which you’ve grown so accustomed? You can wave all of that bye-bye.” I give him a little child’s wave to rub that last point in.
“There’s the real Allison.” He steps down into the family room to reach me on the other side. “Smarter than everyone. Harder-working than everyone. Better than everyone.”
He wants me to retreat, but I stand my ground. “I don’t have time for this. Wallow in self-pity all you want, but the offer I made you is the best deal you’re ever gonna get. What, you think you and Trinity are gonna make this documentary and make a bunch of money? Do you even know who Trinity is?”
A few feet short of me, Finley stops.
“Trinity is the daughter of the woman who hit Luke with her car,” I say.
He blinks hard, the bravado he wears like armor evaporating. Surprise flashes first, then some boyish expression of hurt. He looks down, jaw working, as if he’s trying to swallow the embarrassment of being the last one to know.
“She’s not looking to tell an interesting story about Luke. She’s out for blood. His brake lines were cut, sabotaged, before the accident, and guess who they blame? They blame you!”
He slaps a hand on his chest. “Me?”
“Yes, you. You’re being played for a fool.”
There are perhaps no words that can sting Finley more than those last ones. His face turns a deep shade of red, his mouth curving downward.
“The last thing you should want is to destroy me,” I say. “My income is the best friend you’ll ever have. That video goes public, maybe I’m fucked, but then so are you.”
His lips part, but no words come out, as I walk out the door.
54
Allison
—6:51 p.m.—
I drive home. I’m buzzing too hard to stay at the office, and I can read transcripts at home just as easily.
I was harsher on Finley than I’d intended, but surely his instinct for self-preservation trumps all else. And he’s been on his own now for a couple weeks; he’s starting to understand that life will be a lot more comfortable with a guaranteed stream of income from me for the rest of his days.
A bit before seven, I pull out some salad and a piece of cold chicken. My phone buzzes. The caller ID prompts an audible reaction from me. Grayson. Oh, God, Grayson.
I’d hoped he would come home for spring break so Finley and I could have broken the news to him. God am I glad now that he stayed with his college friends on the East Coast.
Do I answer? Will he be able to hear it in my voice?
“Hi, honey!” I sing into the phone.
I hear no words at first, only panicked sobbing. A chill runs through me.
