The Trophy Wife

Status: Finished

The Trophy Wife

Status: Finished

The Trophy Wife

Book by: graymartin

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Genre: Thrillers

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Content Summary

When cosmetic dermatologist Jake Goodwin meets Briana Caulder, she leaves a lingering impression, and it’s not a good one. Beautiful. Entitled. Obnoxious. In short, his new patient is the caricature of a Fairfield County, Connecticut trophy wife. But when Briana returns days later, she’s a transformed woman: soft-spoken, polite, shy. And terrified.

Goodwin immediately suspects she's a victim of spousal abuse. Trapped in his own faltering marriage, he can’t help but reach out to her. But when friendship turns into something more, Briana’s powerful husband retaliates, with deadly consequences. Suddenly, Goodwin stands to lose everything: his career, his family, even his life. But can he trust Briana to help him? Or does she have her own dark, hidden agenda? All feedback is welcome! I shelved this for a while and wouldn't mind getting guidance from new sets of sharp eyes...

Content Summary

When cosmetic dermatologist Jake Goodwin meets Briana Caulder, she leaves a lingering impression, and it’s not a good one. Beautiful. Entitled. Obnoxious. In short, his new patient is the caricature of a Fairfield County, Connecticut trophy wife. But when Briana returns days later, she’s a transformed woman: soft-spoken, polite, shy. And terrified.

Goodwin immediately suspects she's a victim of spousal abuse. Trapped in his own faltering marriage, he can’t help but reach out to her. But when friendship turns into something more, Briana’s powerful husband retaliates, with deadly consequences. Suddenly, Goodwin stands to lose everything: his career, his family, even his life. But can he trust Briana to help him? Or does she have her own dark, hidden agenda? All feedback is welcome! I shelved this for a while and wouldn't mind getting guidance from new sets of sharp eyes...

Author Chapter Note


An intro to Roy Caulder, with a POV shift (3rd person limited) and foreshadowing of the broader plot. I may not keep this chapter, so advice on whether it adds to or detracts from the story is very
helpful.

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: May 08, 2013

Comments: 20

In-Line Reviews: 8

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: May 08, 2013

Comments: 20

In-Line Reviews: 8

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Tuesday, June 1, Caulder Capital Investments (CCI), Stamford, CT

Roy Caulder

 

On a clear day, Roy Caulder could see from his penthouse office suite all the way to Long Island, but today, he could barely make out the contours of nearby Shippan Point. Sheets of clouds hovered over the sound, coloring the water gunmetal gray, and to the south, another round of thunderheads loomed. The hedge fund CEO was usually too busy to notice the weather, but even he couldn’t help but read meaning into these atmospherics. The coming storm would be a bitch.

Well, bring it on. Caulder’s lips pulled into a wolfish smile. This was his type of weather. Bring on the fucking flood to drown the weak.

He drifted to the floor-to-ceiling window and pressed his forehead against chilled glass, gaze dropping forty stories down. The streets of downtown Stamford were bustling, but from this vantage point, Caulder saw the people below for what they truly were: meaningless drones, ants pushing grains of sand around, all so busy building their futile little tunnels to nowhere.

That was the problem with humanity. Few people had any real sense of purpose. Any true drive or vision.

Which is what made Roy Caulder so unique, so blessed. He had that vision. He’d painstakingly anticipated all possible variables, and now, the future was shaping up nicely. Success seemed inevitable.

Why, then, did he still have an unsettled feeling? What was that gnawing, ulcer-like sensation in his gut?

He shook his head impatiently. Now wasn’t the time for this shit. His mind needed to stay razor sharp. Focused. Free from all distractions.

Crossing the room, he settled into his $65,000 gold-inlayed desk chair. Took a sip of coffee as he lifted a file from the desktop. Slowly paged through the background sheet. The resume. The head-shot.

What was it about this particular ant with an M.D. that had so gotten under his skin?

The ringing of his cell pulled him back to the moment. As expected, it was Bree, wanting to know if he’d made the call yet.

“Of course,” he answered. "I just got off the phone with Nina a few minutes ago. We discussed our concerns.”

Caulder tried to tune out Bree’s hysterics as she chirped her opinion. Give-you-a-hard-on-in-one-second-flat gorgeous, but so fucking high strung. Like some Hollywood celebutante’s neurotic pet. She had matured over the two years since he’d found her, but not by much. As she continued to vent, he scrolled through his iPhone, pulling up the live NYSE feed.

“Yes,” he agreed once she’d finished. “You were right on target. It only took me a few seconds to get that impression too. He's not who they promised he'd be."

Bree asked what their next move should be.

“We need to make our position clear,” he answered absently, eyes now following the stock symbols scrolling by. “I’ll call Nina again to let her know how unhappy we are with this situation. They'll need to be more hands on if they want to keep our business. Gotta go now.”

He ended the call, shifting his full attention to the stock crawl. He waited for his symbol with eyes fixed on the screen, as tunnel-visioned as a lion stalking his pray.

When those three magical letters finally appeared, he practically salivated. The stock was beyond hot. It just kept going up like there was no ceiling.

He imagined the scene unfolding on the floor of the exchange.  Pictured the herds of sheep huddled over their cells, brokers making their frantic last minute calls, wearing down the screens of their smartphones in a mad dash to pour other people’s money into the next big thing.

Incompetent morons. Mindless plodders, all of them. Always moved by the market, never doing the moving.

Well, Roy Caulder played by a different set of rules.

Content that the deal was shaping up nicely, he returned to Goodwin’s file. On a superficial level, he understood why the Greenbecks had chosen the young doctor; he certainly looked the part. Tall and broad-shouldered, with an easy-going smile showing off just the right amount of white teeth. A strong, masculine face softened by empathetic green eyes. He was handsome in a clean-cut, Ivy League sort of way, the kind of handsome that would make the trophy wives of Fairfield County swoon. That shit-eating grin looked so eager to please.

But Bree was right. He'd gotten the same impression in that three minute phone conversation with the doctor. The kid had an edge. Maybe he’d check to see how sharp that edge was in person.

Scrolling through his address book, he located and dialed Nina’s private number. As usual, she appeared to be in no rush to pick up. More power games – the calling card of the mentally and spiritually weak.

As he waited, he glanced down once more at Goodwin’s photo, noting that the coffee mug had left a ring around the young doctor’s head. The muddy brown stain transected his neck in a perfect decapitation.

Caulder took another lukewarm sip, smiling.

 

***

 


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