looked back at the SUV as it lurched forward and peeled rubber out of the cul-de-sac. Pam shook her head slowly as tears gathered behind her eyelids. How many people would suffer now? Gary? Rob? Linc? All her friends and clients were involved. It would all come out. Did she regret any of it? she wondered. Not really. Until now it had all been a wonderful adventure.
Who could have guessed back eighteen months ago when she got the terrible news, that she’d be here, like this now? She sighed and tried to still her pounding heart. What now? She gathered her scattered wits, turned, and headed back up the driveway. The Madam of Maple Court. Who could have guessed?
Chapter
2
A year and a half earlier
“Pam,” Mark Redmond said, “I don’t quite know how to tell you this, but I’ve gone over all the records I could find since Vin’s death and, well, there isn’t a great deal of money.” Mark had been Pam and Vin’s accountant for more than ten years. “You won’t starve, and if you live frugally you can get along okay for several years, but I had hoped for more.”
“I’m sorry, Mark,” Pam DePalma said, shaking her head slowly and tightening her stomach muscles as if to ward off a blow. “I’m having a hard time taking this in. We’re not filthy rich, but we’re pretty well off. Right?” She’d been trying to come to terms with the reality of the automobile accident that had killed her husband of twelve years on a snowy road in Westchester County, New York. It had happened two weeks before and the numbness hadn’t lessened.
She’d just turned thirty-three. Attractive. Educated. Charming. So what? What was she going to do for the rest of her life without Vin? Her life had been so tied up with his, entertaining his clients, traveling to meet with wives of business associates, attending the right clubs, losing at bridge to the right people. My God, what now? What would she do all day? His death had left a gigantic hole in her life. Vin’s business entertaining and the charity work he had insisted would improve their image had occupied so much of her time since he’d started his own firm that she had virtually no life of her own. Neither she nor Vin had any family to speak of, so now with his death she was truly alone. How was she going to keep going? She was usually so practical, so on top of things, but this had thrown her into a tailspin. She couldn’t take it in, make it make sense.
Not much money? How could that be? It had been Vin’s decision, one that Pam reluctantly concurred with, to leave Haskell & Roth and form his own advertising agency more than three years before, and DePalma Advertising had been an immediate, raging success. He’d taken several of his largest clients with him when he left H&R and just last month, although he admitted that things were in a momentary dip, he had assured her that he was about to land several major new accounts.
Now Mark was telling her that she didn’t have a lot of money. Would she have to get a job? What did she know how to do? She could live frugally. She didn’t need much, but she and Vin had enjoyed good living: expensive restaurants, lavish meals with expensive wines, frequent trips to Europe, designer clothes, an exclusive country club, all to enhance their image—his image—and she’d grown used to that lifestyle. What had gone wrong? Unless Vin had been painting a rosier picture for her than reality would have dictated, there should have been more than enough money to carry her through. To what? Without her husband could she just sit around and await Social Security?
“Pam?”
She refocused on what the accountant was saying. “Sorry, Mark, I guess I was somewhere else. What about the agency? Aren’t there assets there?”
“I can’t give you any specifics. You’ll have to talk to Oren Stevens about that. He takes care of the corporate books. However, from what he tells me, after all the corporate debts are settled, there’s not much left there, either.”
Mark’s look was almost pitying. “Unless there’s money in the company that I don’t know about, and that’s always possible, of course, you have enough in the bank to last for two to three years if nothing changes and you live within your new means. The one bright spot is that much of the mortgage will be paid up, so those payments won’t drown you. When Vin refinanced last year, the bank insisted on mortgage insurance, so that will pay off much of the remainder of that debt. However, in addition to what’s left of the mortgage there are still taxes on the house, which are exorbitant, homeowner’s insurance, and maintenance, in addition to general living expenses.”
He leaned forward in his leather chair and propped his elbows on the desk. “You don’t have to do anything for a while. Take some time and figure out what you’re going to do with the rest of your life. You’re a young, attractive woman with many, many years ahead of you. Relax and think everything over. You’ve got plenty of time.”
She looked upon Mark as a friend, so she had to believe that his awful news was the truth and not exaggerated to make some point or earn an extra fee somehow. Still incredulous, she whispered, “What you’re telling me can’t be true.” Vin had assured her time and again that he was making well into six figures a year and if anything ever happened to him she’d be well taken care of. He did have a habit of painting dreamy pictures for her, however. She had always been the practical one, he the eternal optimist.
“I’ve gone over everything several times,” Mark continued. “He used to be well insured but, over my objections, he cashed in most of his life insurance policies about a year ago and plowed the money into the business. Since there are no children to provide for he probably thought you both would be fine until things were better financially. He kept saying that the business was about to turn a corner.”
Pretty pictures. Pam sat back in the leather chair opposite Mark’s desk and stared out the large window behind him. It should be raining to match my mood, she thought, but the November sun was bright and there was only a hint of winter in the air. Near tears but still clinging to hope, she said, “He told me he was making almost half a million a year.”
“During the first two years that DePalma Advertising was in business he was, but not recently. I assumed you knew that he lost several big accounts about a year ago and had to cut staff. The firm’s income dropped off quite a bit after that and he took almost no salary to keep it afloat, then plowed most of his personal savings into it.” Mark looked straight into her eyes. “You must know that, of course. You’re the secretary/ treasurer of the corporation and signed all the tax returns.”
“Come on, Mark, be real. You know I trusted Vin, so I didn’t pay much attention to any of the documents. He showed me where to sign and I signed.” She stopped and thought back. Just last month she’d signed several forms. He had folded the multipage document so she hadn’t really seen anything but the last page. Had he been deliberately hiding things from her? As she thought about it, she realized that he probably had. She was sure he believed that things would turn around and hadn’t wanted to worry her, so she had continued to live up to what she thought his income was. They’d gone to Egypt and Israel the previous fall and had traveled through the Burgundy region of France with business associates just six weeks ago.
Mark stared at her, then shook his head. “I’m sorry, Pam. I thought you knew at least some of this. I guess this comes as more of a shock to you than I’d anticipated. Vin should have kept you informed.” He reached across his desk and squeezed her hand. “I’m really sorry about all this.” He released her hand and pulled a typed piece of paper from his top drawer. He glanced at it. “Being practical, here’s what I would advise. The Corvette was totaled in the accident, so the insurance will take care of that. Both the other cars are leased and I think you should turn in his Mercedes and pay the surrender charges.” He slid the paper across the shiny surface of the maple partners’ desk until it lay in front of
