I didn’t want to come back to work after our honeymoon. I was very tan, just like Van, and it was a fairytale that I was afraid would end when we came home.
But it didn’t. My new husband was adamant that we make things work. Over the next few weeks, we consolidated our homes, and I moved into his bigger condo. Viola also decided that I, too, needed an assistant since she wanted to make me part owner in the company.
I protested long and hard, but brother and sister would have none of it. So, now I would be learning more about the management side of things while I trained my assistant to be as good (but not better, naturally) as I was in this job.
In the meantime, Van made sure that I ate well and got enough rest. At the rate we were going, I’d be fat in a month. When I complained, he shu
