My Wedding Was a Fake, So I Claimed My Fortune and a Billionaire novel · Chapter 15 of 24

Chapter 15: The Conference Table

The Savannah office of Perrault Capital took the top floor of a brick cotton warehouse on Bay Street.

The conference room had a table of black walnut, twenty feet long, and a window that looked straight down at my family's wharf.

I could see Calhoun & Daughters from my chair, the old pilings and the crane, the water going gray and gold.

Marcus had left the contract in a leather folder at the head of the table.

It was fifty-one pages.

"I'll leave you to read it," Marcus said, and coughed, and went out.

He closed the door.

I opened to page one.

Auden sat down in the chair at my left, and loosened his tie, and did not speak.

I read.

I read every word of the first twelve pages.

Somewhere around page thirteen he said, quietly, "You can skim the definitions."

"I'm not skimming."

"Everyone skims."

"I signed one piece of paper in my life without reading it," I said. "It was a marriage certificate."

He fell silent.

I read on.

At page twenty-two I found a clause I didn't like and crossed it out with a pen, in the margin, and wrote my initials.

He leaned over to see.

"That's my favorite paragraph."

"It's a bad one."

"It's about the dividend schedule."

"It favors the bank."

"It's a bank."

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