At Mother-in-Law's Birthday He Seated His First Love; I Ruined Him

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My mother-in-law's sixtieth birthday.

Martin Abbott grabbed my arm.

Cecilia Pruitt, that bet just now, I lost your seat to Margery Fox. She's going to sit next to Mom with me for a bit. You wouldn't make me look like I can't take a loss, would you?

I paused, looking at him.

Then where do I sit?

He lifted a hand and pointed toward a side table in the corner.

"That table's all young people. Lively crowd. Go keep them company."

Looking at the pack of Margery's hangers-on at that table, I couldn't help asking, "And what exactly did you bet on today?"

"Margery bet I wouldn't dare eat a cockroach. So I lost."

I laughed suddenly, turning to make a call.

"Dad, you don't need to come to the Swanson birthday dinner. The Swansons want Cece, not the deal."

The bleached-blond boys at the side table looked over and immediately called out.

"Sis, come sit! Your brother-in-law handed you over to us. Tonight you'd better keep us good company."

"Sis, Margie told us you're the best at looking after people. Don't go holding out on us now."

As they spoke, a young man in a floral shirt walked up, grabbed my arm, and started dragging me toward that table.

"Sis, let's have a little bet too. If I lose, your brother's yours. If you lose, you're mine."

I looked at Martin, whose eyes were sliding away from mine, and let out a short, cold laugh.

"Fine. A bet it is. But my stakes run a little high. I'm afraid you can't play at that level."

A guy with a nose ring slapped the table and shouted.

"Who can't play at that level? Margie says whatever happens, she'll cover it. One word from her and Young Mr. Swanson would hand her the whole sky over Riverton."

"Right. We only let you sit with us today as a favor to Margie. Otherwise, someone like you, worthy of a bet with us?"

"Right, we're names in the film world. A little orphan like you would have to fight through a crowd and buy a ticket just to get a look at us."

My gaze went cold. I turned to Martin.

"Martin, are you sure you want me sitting here, taking a bet with this trash?"

His face turned ugly. He pulled me aside and dropped his voice.

"They're big shots in the film industry. Just sit at this table and play along. If you offend them, Margie's whole career is finished."

"It's Mom's birthday today. Be sensible. You don't want to ruin her mood, do you?"

Right then Margery came over in a couture gown, slipping her arm through Martin's like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Sis, Martin lost your seat to me today. You're not going to be petty and blow up over it, are you?"

"Oh, and these friends of mine have been dying to hang out with you. Just stand in for me and entertain them."

I watched Martin pat Margery's hand indulgently, then looked back at the leering pack of them.

I walked forward without a word, picked up the liquor on the table, and said, "So I lost a bet. It's not the first time. What's there to blow up over?"

"Boys, you wanted a bet, didn't you? I'll play one round with you, give you a good time."

Seeing me pour the drinks, they lit up at once.

"Sis, name it. What are we betting?"

"Yeah, your little brothers will see it through to the end. We'll make sure you leave satisfied, body and soul."

Listening to their oily talk, I looked at Martin and spoke slowly.

"Here's the bet. If the Swanson family fails to sign that contract with its big client tonight, every one of you eats a pound of cockroaches."

The words were barely out of her mouth before the whole room burst into laughter. The nose-ring guy jabbed a finger at me, his face twisted with mockery.

"A big client who won't sign a contract? Is she out of her mind?"

"Ha, she's betting on a hundred-million-dollar deal between the boss and the Swanson family? Does she even know what she's saying?"

"I'm dying here. The richest person she's ever met is the lady frying breakfast omelets down the alley, and now she's talking about big-shot clients."

The man in the floral shirt looked like he'd just heard the joke of the year, doubling over with laughter.

"Oh, I get it. Big sis here can't wait to keep her little brothers company, so she's tossing us softballs."

"The client called Mr. Abbott himself, said he wanted to come pay respects to his mother on her birthday. If that's not the man wanting to work with the Swansons, what is it?"

As he spoke, the floral-shirt guy reached over with a hairy hand.

"Big sis, I'll eat this cockroach. If you lose, what are you going to do for your little brother?"

"Do for you? Come on, big sis has all kinds of tricks up her sleeve."

"Margie already told us everything. She bought the red lace special, all kinds of good stuff. Filthy and fun."

And with that, the man in the floral shirt yanked out that red thong and dangled it in front of my eyes.

"Big sis, Margie had Mr. Abbott bring your battle gear along just for us. When you lose, you're going to slip it on and give us a little dance."

Shame and fury swept through me all at once. My face burned as I reached out to snatch the thong back.

"Give it here. What do you think you're doing?"

The men just held it up higher, dodging, still jeering at me.

"Big sis, you can't even wait? We'll go put it on out back in a minute."

"No wonder she's got Mr. Abbott hooked. When she gets this raunchy, she just can't hold back. Man, I can't take it."

A pack of street thugs, one line after another, humiliating me right there in front of everyone.

On our first anniversary, Martin said he wanted a taste of something new and bought me racy lingerie, coaxing me into a new kind of night.

I never imagined he'd take what happened between a husband and wife and turn it into a joke for Margery Fox.

Every one of them tore into me without holding back, their eyes full of swagger and contempt.

And through all of it, Martin sat there looking smug, like none of it touched him.

A sharp pain shot through my chest. I turned to him, furious.

"Martin, are you sure you want me sitting here and letting these people humiliate me?"

Margery was leaning against his arm, and she pouted at once, playing hurt.

"Martin, what's your wife trying to say? Does she look down on my friends?"

"It's just a bet. She's not picking a fight with you on purpose, is she? Trying to force you to break the deal?"

Martin lifted his hand right away and gave Margery's cheek a doting pinch.

"When have I ever lost a bet with you?"

"Tonight it's whatever you want. You get the seat of honor, and you get to see a real big shot up close."

The whole crowd started egging them on.

"Margie's got game. Mr. Abbott's a class act, always keeps his word."

"Margie's Martin's dream girl. When has Martin ever told her no?"

Margery pressed in closer, her eyes fixed on me full of scorn.

Martin smoothed the loose strands of her hair, then glanced up at me with a light smile.

"Cecilia, you're the lady of the Swanson house. Wherever you sit, you're still hosting the guests, aren't you?"

"People in show business are a little more free-spirited. Don't make such a fuss over nothing."

With Martin's promise in hand, the men got even more worked up, crowding in and pulling at me.

My heart sank. I looked at the bottle on the table, grabbed it, and smashed it down on the nose-ring guy's head.

"Get your filthy paws off me. This is my home. Keep this up and get out."

The whole room froze. A few guests who'd been trickling in turned to look.

Three seconds later, the nose-ring guy exploded, his palm cracking across my face.

"You parentless little stray, your home? If you hadn't thrown yourself at him like a shameless slut, you think Martin would ever have wanted you?"

"Let me spell it out for you. Margie is the real Mrs. Abbott, the lady of the Swanson house. She's already carrying Martin's child."

The words hit like a thunderclap. The room went dead silent.

I stared at Martin, stunned.

"Martin, what is he talking about? Didn't you tell me Margery was just a girl from a family friend's household?"

Martin cleared his throat and spoke as if it were nothing.

"Oh, I forgot to mention. That night, on our wedding anniversary, I got drunk and mistook Margie for you."

"Cecilia, you're an orphan. Marrying me was already more than you deserved. It's a rare thing that Margie isn't fighting you for the title of Mrs. Swanson, so you'd better be grateful for how gracious she's being."

There was a roaring in my head. All I could hear was the buzzing around me as I watched Martin's mouth open and close.

I had given up the identity of a wealthy heiress, willingly run his company for him, and in the end Martin wanted me to be grateful to his mistress.

Three years of dating, one year of marriagewhat was any of it worth?

The love I'd thrown everything away for turned out to be a joke.

Margery sauntered up to me, and without warning her hand flew out and cracked across my face.

"You'd dare hit me? Cecilia, take a good look at what you are."

Then Margery turned to Martin.

"Martin, my brothers got beaten up in your house today. You'd better make this right for me, or you can forget about ever seeing me again."

Martin went tense the instant he heard it.

"Margie, you can't ignore me. Don't worry, I'll make sure you get satisfaction today."

"Please don't get upset. It's bad for our son."

Then Martin turned to me, disgust in his voice.

"Low-born really can't rise above it. Throwing a tantrum, going wild, all over a title."

"Cecilia, if you still want to keep the title of Mrs. Swanson, then kneel down like a good girl and apologize to these men. If they forgive you, we'll drop the whole thing today. Otherwise"

I held my face, my eyes bloodshot, staring at Martin as cold sank all through me.

"Martin, you want me to apologize to the men who groped your wife?"

"So what if you apologize?"

"Back in that orphanage you were probably fighting dogs over scraps of bread. A few good years and now you act like you're precious."

"Right, Martin, you've just spoiled her too much."

"Yeah, back in that orphanage, who knows how many men had her already, and here she is playing the chaste little saint."

"If it weren't for you having warmed Martin's bed, a piece like you would go for two hundred a night in some hotel."

Watching one arrogant, shameless mouth after another, I nodded, seething.

"Fine. I'll remember every one of you. Do you know who I am?"

"Don't care who you are. You beat up Bruno today, so you're apologizing, or you can crawl back to your orphanage."

The nose-ring man rushed at me and kicked me in the leg. I went down with a thud, hard onto my knees.

In the same instant, the man in the floral shirt planted a foot on my back.

"Crawl under, let me see how flexible you are. Otherwise, once you're in the getup later, I won't even be in the mood."

Margery strolled right up in front of me.

"Cecilia, today I'm teaching you how to be a proper high-society wife. Don't be a jealous, petty little thing and embarrass Martin."

Then she looked at Martin, her voice turning aggrieved.

"Martin, you see? I told you Cecilia was shallow. She throws a fit over a seat and makes you lose face in front of all these people."

"Today I brought all these brothers over to teach her some manners. They're worn out doing it. How are you going to thank me?"

Martin caught her hand with a grin, lifting it to his lips and kissing it flippantly.

"How about I thank you later? Pinch me, hit me, whatever you like. Happy now?"

"You're awful. What kind of gutter tricks have you picked up from Cecilia? I'm a young lady from a good family. Ugh, disgusting."

Martin burst out laughing and pulled Margery into his arms, nuzzling her.

The crowd was jeering. Someone shouted.

"Cecilia, hurry up and crawl! Show us that slutty side of yours."

"Cecilia, aren't you just a whore anyway? Do a good job, and when Martin's done with you, you can still service us brothers."

Someone grabbed at my backside. Someone stepped on the back of my hand.

I struggled, my eyes bloodshot, glaring at every single arrogant, gloating face.

"Every one of you is going to die today!"

"Let me tell you, I am the daughter of Tom Pruitt, the richest man in New York. You will all be punished."

The laughter only grew louder.

"What did she say?"

"Daughter of Tom Pruitt, the richest man? Is something wrong with my ears? Hey, blondie, blow in there for me."

Just then a voice rang out.

"Mr. Fox of Radiance Group has arrived."

The hall went dead silent in an instant.

My mother-in-law was the first to rush over.

"Oh my, Mr. Fox, you honor us with your presence. What a privilege."

Margery couldn't be bothered to keep humiliating me a second longer. She flew straight into his arms like a bird darting home to its nest.

"Daddy, you came so early? Martin was just saying he'd send the driver to pick you up."

Martin hurried over too, all smiles.

"Uncle Jackson Fox, a man as busy as you, taking the time to come to my mother's birthday. You've gone to such trouble."

I looked hard at them and let out one cold laugh after another. Now I finally understood why Martin had changed so much.

He'd found himself a new father-in-law from a wealthy family.

Jackson laughed and clapped Martin on the shoulder.

"Martin, I always knew you had it in you. Getting in with Tom Pruitt, the richest man in New York. Well done, well done."

Martin bent forward at once, all humility.

"Uncle Jackson, I still have so much to learn from you. I'll be counting on you for the overseas markets from here on."

And with that he ushered Jackson fawningly to the seat of honor.

Margery shot me a smug glance and dropped straight into the seat beside my mother-in-law.

Martin watched me struggle, then strode over fast and dropped his voice into an order.

"Cecilia, everyone here today is somebody important. If you run your mouth again and ruin this for me, you can forget about ever being Mrs. Abbott."

"You go sit with the boys and have a few drinks. Anything you want afterward, buy it yourself and put it on my tab."

The man in the floral shirt and the others hauled me up on the spot and shoved me down at their table.

The guests kept arriving, and the hall came alive. In no time it was packed wall to wall.

Everyone congratulated my mother-in-law on her good fortune and praised Martin for his success, for the partnership he was about to close with the richest man in New York.

Watching so many of the city's elite pour in, Martin only grew more pleased with himself.

I lifted my eyes. There, dead center at the head table, sat a place card with my father's name on it. Tom Pruitt.

So Martin had already gone and broadcast the news of my father's arrival all over town.

No wonder an ordinary birthday for a second-tier family had drawn such a crowd. They'd all come for the name of Tom Pruitt, the richest man in New York.

I sat down quietly.

Martin, let's see how you explain your legal wife sitting at the side table once your real father-in-law walks in.

The birthday tributes began.

Martin knelt there in front of my mother-in-law with Margery on his arm, bowing his head as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Anyone who didn't know better would have thought Margery was the Abbott bride.

Margery remembered me and started tugging at Martin, all coy.

"Martin, honey, if I take my sister's place bowing to your mother, she'll be upset for sure."

"Call her over. Let her bow to your mother too, so your mother can teach her the Abbott family rules."

A flash of delight crossed Martin's face.

"Margie, so gracious. That's real class. Giving Cecilia a chance."

"Fine, we'll do it your way. Have Cecilia come over and bow to my mother."

He turned and looked my way, and the punks caught his meaning at once. Snickering, they shoved me up to the head table.

My mother-in-law looked at me sideways, contempt in every line of her face.

"Cecilia, you've been married in a whole year and never once had the chance to see what the Abbott name means. Today you've seen it for yourself. Everyone the Abbotts deal with is a person of real standing."

"From now on you'll be humble and respectful, you'll treat Martin as your whole world, and none of that gutter-wife jealousy. You have to be worthy of the honor of being Mrs. Abbott."

Jackson cleared his throat, and my mother-in-law stopped short.

Martin took the hint at once.

"Uncle Jackson, you're the elder here. Say a few words."

Sure enough, Jackson's cold, contemptuous gaze swept over me.

"A low-born woman who wormed her way into a good family with cheap tricks. How is a woman like that fit to be Mrs. Abbott?"

"Martin, keep her on the side, throw her a little money, that's all she needs. Margie's gracious enough not to fight over it, but my daughter has to have her rightful place."

I gave a scornful little laugh. So this was what they called a great family. Publicly campaigning for the mistress's daughter to take a wife's seat. Shameless to the last.

Martin looked at me with something complicated in his eyes, and my mother-in-law flew into a rage.

"Martin, what are you waiting for? Look at the sorry state of her. Is she fit to be Mrs. Abbott?"

"You're going to do great things, you're going to partner with the richest man in New York. Could you ever bring a low creature like this out in public?"

Martin finally made up his mind and spoke, grave.

"Cece, we really aren't a match. It was you who chased after me back then, and I only got together with you because I felt sorry for you."

"There's a courtyard house out back. You move in there today. Don't worry, I won't shortchange you a cent from here on. Food, clothes, a roof, I'll cover all of it. But when you see Margie you'll be respectful and polite. No sniping, no jealousy."

I curled my lip into a cold smile.

"Martin, you're sure you want to divorce me?"

In that moment I understood, fully and finally, that Martin wasn't just a social climber. He was shameless to the core.

He wanted to keep me, the daughter of the richest man in the country, the crown princess of New York, as a kept woman. Did the man have no fear of dying?

Martin hesitated, looking at me, and the instant Margery pouted, his expression snapped straight and serious.

"Cecilia, only now do I realize the one I love is Margie. Only Margie is worthy of me. Don't worry, even after the divorce you'll still get to see me. If Margie allows it, I'll come visit you."

I couldn't be bothered wasting more breath. I pulled out the divorce papers.

"All right. Sign. I wouldn't want to hold up your marriage to the heiress."

Martin thought for a second, then snatched up the pen and scrawled his name across it.

In that moment, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Jackson, Margery, Martin.

Just as I turned to go, a shout came from beyond the front doors.

"Mr. Pruitt, the Pruitt tycoon has arrived."

At once the whole room shot to its feet. My mother-in-law grabbed Martin in her excitement and swept out to meet him, Jackson and Margery close on their heels.

I stood at the back of the crowd and watched the doors open. My father stood in the doorway in a black tang suit, gold cane in hand, the picture of authority.

"Mr. Pruitt, welcome, welcome."

"Mr. Pruitt, I'm Martin Abbott. You've honored my humble home with your presence."

My father's gaze swept over everyone, settled on Margery hanging off Martin's arm, and his brow drew slightly together.

"Mr. Abbott, where is your wife, Cecilia?"

The whole room froze in place. Martin's mouth fell open in shock.

Into the dead silence, I spoke, slow and even.

"Dad, I'm right here."

The crowd parted at once, opening a path.

Step by step, under everyone's eyes, I walked over, took my father's arm, and gave a cool little smile.

"Dad, didn't I tell you not to come? The Abbotts only want Margie. They don't want the partnership."