Chapter 1: Dinner for Five

Once again, my wife Abbie arranged dinner with her parents at Malone’s—one of the fancier spots around Columbus. On a Friday night, you were lucky to get out of there for under three hundred bucks for four people. Not that we couldn’t afford it. I worked at the financial planning firm her dad had started twenty years earlier.

He started out as a life insurance agent, did well with whole life policies, then moved into annuities and mutual funds. It took time and a stack of certifications, but he built it into a successful business. After I married his daughter right out of college, he brought me on board—first as an employee, then as a partner. These days, we work with some of the wealthiest families in Columbus.

We had just ordered and were handing our menus back to the server when the Reverend Bobby Bill Jones came swaggering in—and made a beeline for our table. Bobby Bill was something else. He and his dad, Billy Bob Jones, were shysters of the highest order. Together, they co-pastored one of the biggest non-denominational megachurches in the Midwest.

The weeping gospel preachers on TV had nothing on those two. They could charm an old widow out of her estate just as easily as any of them. I should know—our agency managed their personal investments. I couldn’t stand them, but they were among our wealthiest clients, which meant treating them accordingly.

It was my conniving shrew of a mother-in-law who opened her mouth and invited the shyster to join us.

“Reverend Bobby Bill, how nice to run into you here! Are you meeting someone? If not, would you care to join us?” she bleated—ever the loyal member of his fleeced flock.

It was painfully obvious that my mother-in-law had already invited him to join us—knowing full well that someone else would be footing the bill. I think even Bobby Bill was a little embarrassed by it. Still, he played along with the charade.

“I think I will, Sister Carlton. It’s always a wondrous thing to break bread with members of the congregation and spread the joyous Word.”

Reverend Bobby Bill grabbed a chair from a nearby table and wedged it between me and my wife, Abbie. I didn’t say a word, but I was definitely peeved.

There was history between Abbie and Bobby Bill. All through high school and into college, everyone assumed they’d end up together. But that all changed when Abbie and I landed in the same economics class and study group. Turns out, we shared more than just an interest in the subject. By the end of the term, we were dating exclusively—and by the end of the school year, we were engaged.

We married that summer. With dual degrees in economics and finance, I was a natural fit for her father’s agency.

I don’t think Bobby Bill ever got over the fact that Abbie was no longer his, as he always showed up at the most inopportune times.

There was no question—Abbie’s mom hated me. I had shattered her carefully crafted plan to marry Abbie off to Bobby Bill.

Every chance she got, she tried to push them back together—at church, at social events, anywhere she could. It didn’t matter that Abbie was married to me; she still clung to the hope that one day, all her scheming would pay off and that Abbie and Bobby Bill would end up together after all.

That night was the first time I began to suspect that Abbie might be sharing her mother’s aspirations.

Lately, I’d noticed that the passion in our marriage had started to fade. Abbie wasn’t as affectionate as she used to be, and she seemed unusually eager to attend services at the Joneses’ megachurch. Her enthusiasm had ramped up recently—especially after she announced one Sunday evening that she’d taken on a bigger role at the church.

She was now the assistant to the chair of the women’s ministry. According to her, that meant more time at church on Sunday evenings—attending committee meetings with Reverend Bobby Bill and the rest of the ministry team.