Даниэла Стил - All That Glitters

“I’ll come over when my dad gets back to work,” he promised, and by the time Coco left for the church with Leslie in her car, she had run out of tears. She was quiet, thinking about her parents. She had never missed them as much as she did on that day.

“It’s going to be wonderful,” Leslie said confidently, as she walked her into the small church. When Coco saw Nigel standing at the altar, waiting for her, she smiled, and she slowly relaxed and believed it too. She was sure it was going to be perfect, because they loved each other. She could feel her parents watching over her and sharing the day with her.

Nigel beamed when she walked in. She had never looked more beautiful. The ceremony only took half an hour, and then they walked out of the church as man and wife, with their three witnesses. Nigel had bought a narrow gold band for her at Tiffany, and they had gotten one for him too.

Then the five of them went to lunch. Nigel ordered Cristal champagne, and they all had a superb lunch. Coco had paid for it, as the bride, since her father wasn’t there to do it, and Nigel couldn’t. But he had selected exquisite French wines of the finest vintages, and the menu, with caviar for the first course. When they got back to her house at five o’clock, they were both more than a little drunk. They made love and fell asleep immediately.

They were leaving for Courchevel in the morning, and she was his wife now, Coco thought as she fell asleep next to him. His wife. She loved the sound of the word. She knew that nothing could go wrong. She had a family now. She had a husband, and for the first time in eighteen months, she felt safe again. And she knew Nigel would protect her forever. He had vowed he would.

Chapter 7

Their week in Courchevel was perfect. The snow was crisp, the sun warm on their faces. The friends they stayed with, and their other guests, celebrated the newlyweds constantly. It was a fantastic vacation, and there were parties for them every night. Several of their acquaintances had houses there, and were there at the same time, so their honeymoon was a weeklong celebration with Nigel’s social circle. As soon as they got back to London, Nigel surprised Coco over breakfast with a question.

“Where are we going to move to?”

“We’re moving? Why?” She looked confused.

“We can’t live here as a married couple. It’s an adorable matchbox. We need a proper house that we can entertain in. This was suitable as a temporary place for a girl your age, here for a short time, but we need a respectable home suited to our status now.” He sounded definite about it. It had never occurred to her. She had two homes in New York. But they lived in London now. And Nigel wanted them to have a proper home.

“I don’t know. I never thought about it. I don’t even know who to call.”

“I’ll start calling some estate agents, and see what’s on the market.” He was matter-of-fact about it, as though she had agreed to the plan, which she hadn’t. She was still a little stunned when they left for work. A serious house in London was going to be a big expense and undertaking, and she assumed that he expected her to pay for it, since he had no money of his own. How did he know she could afford it? What if she couldn’t?

From then on, Nigel saw two or three houses a day, sometimes as many as six, during his lunch hour and after work. He told her not to worry about it. He would vet them first, and only bother her with the good ones. She tried to pretend it wasn’t happening, but Nigel was deep into it.

In March, six weeks after the search began, he said there were two houses that he wanted her to see. He set up the appointments for a Friday morning without asking her, and Coco called Leslie and said she would be coming in late. She was still working at Time and enjoying it, and now that she was staying in London, she saw no reason to quit. Leslie liked having her on her team.

Coco was stunned when she saw the houses. They were both large, imposing family homes, with enormous reception rooms, many bedrooms, in excellent condition, in the best neighborhoods. Both of them were worthy of a captain of industry, a financial titan, someone like her father or Ed Easton, or an aristocrat with a huge fortune. She had no idea that he’d been looking at houses that large, worth that kind of money, and she nearly gasped when the realtor told her the asking price for each of them. One of them even had a ballroom. Nigel pointed out that they could give dances. There was one she liked better than the other, the slightly smaller one. She said nothing to the realtor and she turned to Nigel when they left the last appointment, without making a commitment. At twenty-three, she couldn’t imagine owning that kind of house, married or not.

“Why do we need a house that size? Shouldn’t we wait till we have children? We’re fine where we are for now, Nigel. Those houses are incredibly expensive, and we don’t need anything that big.”

“Of course we do. Do you have any idea how many dinner parties and house parties we’ve gone to in the last six months? If we’re going to have an active social life and be part of the London scene, we have to reciprocate. We need a home we can entertain in. Dinners, dances. We can’t go around like thieves, going to everyone else’s parties and giving none of our own.” But few of the houses they’d been to had been as lavish as these two. They would need a full staff to run them, and somewhere between four and six children to fill them, or a constant flow of houseguests. It was all way beyond the way she or her parents had lived. Nigel clearly had very grand ideas about their status on the London scene.

“I don’t even know if they would be a good investment,” she said in the cab to the Time building.

“I can assure you they are, or I wouldn’t have shown them to you,” he said tersely, looking insulted. “And I know you can afford them.” How could he be so sure? She wasn’t even certain of it, whatever she had.

“How do you know I can?”

“I read our contract and I knew anyway. You weren’t here on the salary Time is paying you. I know who your father was. His fortune was not exactly a secret.” What he said shocked her profoundly. He’d done research. She didn’t say it, but she was shaken. Sam had been right.

She called Ed that afternoon, when she knew he’d be in the office, and he took her call immediately. She told him about the houses, and the asking prices, and asked him if she could afford it. He still had not replaced himself as her trustee, and she had been too busy to pursue it, and forgot about it. She had bigger things to deal with.

“Yes, you can afford it, but I’m not sure that’s the point here. Do you want a house that big in London? Are you planning to stay there? Are you starting a family right away? That’s a lot of house you’re looking at, in both cases.” She had told him the square footage and the price.

“We’re not starting a family, for sure. And I don’t know if we’re going to stay here. My husband wants to. We haven’t decided yet. He likes being prominent on the London social scene. But I want to spend time in New York too.”

“Those are still two very large houses. To answer your question, yes, you can afford either one of them. But do you want to?” She didn’t. But her husband did, desperately. It was their first big difference of opinion, and a very expensive one.

“Thank you,” she said crisply, and pursued the conversation with Nigel that night when he got home.

“Of course we want to stay here,” he said immediately. “Where else would we want to live?” He acted as though the question was ridiculous.

“I’m American. Until now I’ve lived in New York. I still have two homes there, my parents’ apartment and a large beach house, and all I have here is a temporary job. Since you’re married to me, you could get a green card, and work in New York, if you wanted to.” She realized they should have discussed it before, and hadn’t.