Chapter 10
Celestine was still in Raymond's chair.
Raymond sat beside her on the arm of the chair next to hers, and they were talking softly.
When Derrick came back through the doors, Celestine looked up.
She read his face the way only a mother can — the particular way that takes in everything and decides what to say in less than a second.
She said: "Come sit with me."
He sat beside her.
He took her hand.
Her fingers were rough and dry and familiar in a way that hit him somewhere behind the sternum.
"I want to explain," he started.
"You don't have to right now."
"Mom—"
"I said not right now." She patted the back of his hand twice.
"There'll be time."
Gerald Whitmore re-entered the ballroom from the side corridor.
He had straightened his jacket and recovered his expression.
He was accompanied by a man Derrick didn't recognize — heavyset, carrying a leather document folder, moving with the quiet efficiency of someone who was being paid by the hour.
Gerald approached and stopped.
"Derrick," he said.
"This is Arthur Breen.
He serves as our family's legal counsel and was present today in a professional capacity."
Arthur Breen opened the document folder and removed a clipped set of papers.
"The prenuptial agreement you signed contains a binding arbitration clause," Arthur said.
"Any dispute arising from the dissolution of the planned union—"
"Stop," Derrick said.
He stood up.
"I'm not doing this here."
"Mr.
Breen is simply clarifying your position—"
"In front of three hundred people," Derrick said.
"At my wedding.
With my mother sitting right here." He looked at Gerald.
"Is this who you are?"
Gerald met his eyes.
"I'm a man who protects his family's interests.
I'd expect you to understand that sentiment, given the morning's events."
"What you're protecting," Derrick said, "is an account that was tied to this marriage without my knowledge.
That's not a prenup.
May you like
That's a transaction."
"All marriages involve some element of—"
