sounded dubious, “but the board would never have considered Foley for chief financial officer a few years ago if he hadn’t been Winnie’s son-in-law. God only knows why they made him CEO after Winnie died, but Wrens says Foley’s strength is knowing how to charm the socks off people in high places.”
“Has he done anything worse than ask for a divorce, take a mistress, and get himself made CEO of Holcomb and Associates? I mean, that’s bad enough, but you sound like he has single-handedly introduced bubonic plague to the city.”
“He just about has. Apparently, even before Winnie’s death, Foley had been chatting up an Arab conglomerate that’s interested in buying the firm. A couple of weeks ago they made him an offer, but in order to get the votes to sell, he needs Winnie’s shares. Winnie’s lawyer informed Foley that Winnie left those shares exclusively to Bara, so Foley informed Bara that she can either give him those shares, or they will have to sell both houses and most of their investments to give him all he’s entitled to.”
“Can he do that?”
“Wrens says he can. When they got married, Bara was stupid enough to put Foley’s name on the titles to both her Buckhead house and her Lake Rabun house, and she let him mingle their bank accounts and investment portfolios—which means all of that is now legally common property, and Foley is entitled to half of it. Bara would have to sell a lot more than their Buckhead house to give Foley half of everything they own. If he can manage to get Winnie’s shares put into the mix, she could well lose everything else. Wouldn’t you think she would have insisted on a prenuptial agreement? But no, she was crazy in love.” Posey’s drawl deepened in disgust.
“I never thought about a prenuptial when I got married.”
“Neither did I, but we were kids, starting out. Bara was in her forties when she married Foley, with two big houses and pots of money she had inherited from both sets of grandparents, her mother, and Ray. The worst thing Foley has done so far, besides parade his bimbo all over town, is tie up their bank accounts and put a freeze on the credit cards. Bara is practically destitute.”
“Destitute? She drives a Jag and lives in an humongous house.”
“But she had those things before this mess started. She couldn’t sell them if she wanted to, until the divorce is settled.” Posey slammed on her brakes at a red light. “Sorry. I was going a little faster than I realized.”
Katharine had to wait for lunch to settle back into her stomach before she asked, “Would her shares in the firm be an equal exchange for half of all the rest?” She had no idea how much Bara’s shares in Holcomb & Associates were worth, but big houses on Lake Rabun were worth small fortunes, and a house about the same size as Bara’s in Buckhead had recently listed for seventeen million dollars. Housing woes that had afflicted the rest of the country scarcely made a ripple in the sale or purchase of houses that size.
“It doesn’t matter what’s worth what.” Posey sounded like she was reminding a sixth grader that two plus two equals four. “Bara’s daddy founded that company and her granddaddy Payne built both houses. Her granddaddy Payne gave Bara the Buckhead house when she married Ray, so they could raise their children there, and her mother left her the lake house when she died. Foley’s only been married to her for fifteen years. Both houses and the business ought to be hers.”
A car across the intersection moved. Posey took out her rage at Foley by gunning her engine and leaping forward. Brakes squealed. Two very expensive pieces of machinery nearly collided. The other driver shook his fist.
“Watch where you’re going,” Posey shouted at the other driver as she roared by.
“He was making a left on the arrow.” Katharine hoped her heart rate would eventually revert to normal. “Our light hadn’t changed.”
Posey slapped one cheek
“Has he done anything worse than ask for a divorce, take a mistress, and get himself made CEO of Holcomb and Associates? I mean, that’s bad enough, but you sound like he has single-handedly introduced bubonic plague to the city.”
“He just about has. Apparently, even before Winnie’s death, Foley had been chatting up an Arab conglomerate that’s interested in buying the firm. A couple of weeks ago they made him an offer, but in order to get the votes to sell, he needs Winnie’s shares. Winnie’s lawyer informed Foley that Winnie left those shares exclusively to Bara, so Foley informed Bara that she can either give him those shares, or they will have to sell both houses and most of their investments to give him all he’s entitled to.”
“Can he do that?”
“Wrens says he can. When they got married, Bara was stupid enough to put Foley’s name on the titles to both her Buckhead house and her Lake Rabun house, and she let him mingle their bank accounts and investment portfolios—which means all of that is now legally common property, and Foley is entitled to half of it. Bara would have to sell a lot more than their Buckhead house to give Foley half of everything they own. If he can manage to get Winnie’s shares put into the mix, she could well lose everything else. Wouldn’t you think she would have insisted on a prenuptial agreement? But no, she was crazy in love.” Posey’s drawl deepened in disgust.
“I never thought about a prenuptial when I got married.”
“Neither did I, but we were kids, starting out. Bara was in her forties when she married Foley, with two big houses and pots of money she had inherited from both sets of grandparents, her mother, and Ray. The worst thing Foley has done so far, besides parade his bimbo all over town, is tie up their bank accounts and put a freeze on the credit cards. Bara is practically destitute.”
“Destitute? She drives a Jag and lives in an humongous house.”
“But she had those things before this mess started. She couldn’t sell them if she wanted to, until the divorce is settled.” Posey slammed on her brakes at a red light. “Sorry. I was going a little faster than I realized.”
Katharine had to wait for lunch to settle back into her stomach before she asked, “Would her shares in the firm be an equal exchange for half of all the rest?” She had no idea how much Bara’s shares in Holcomb & Associates were worth, but big houses on Lake Rabun were worth small fortunes, and a house about the same size as Bara’s in Buckhead had recently listed for seventeen million dollars. Housing woes that had afflicted the rest of the country scarcely made a ripple in the sale or purchase of houses that size.
“It doesn’t matter what’s worth what.” Posey sounded like she was reminding a sixth grader that two plus two equals four. “Bara’s daddy founded that company and her granddaddy Payne built both houses. Her granddaddy Payne gave Bara the Buckhead house when she married Ray, so they could raise their children there, and her mother left her the lake house when she died. Foley’s only been married to her for fifteen years. Both houses and the business ought to be hers.”
A car across the intersection moved. Posey took out her rage at Foley by gunning her engine and leaping forward. Brakes squealed. Two very expensive pieces of machinery nearly collided. The other driver shook his fist.
“Watch where you’re going,” Posey shouted at the other driver as she roared by.
“He was making a left on the arrow.” Katharine hoped her heart rate would eventually revert to normal. “Our light hadn’t changed.”
Posey slapped one cheek
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