DIVORCE, CORPORATE-STYLE

By MARGARET CARLSON

What's a wife worth, anyway? She's priceless, of course, spiritually. But financially, we still don't know, when it comes to that rare species, the stay-at-home spouse of the corporate tycoon. When nonwealthy couples divorce, the assets are generally divided equally, according to Michael Ostrow, president of the American Academy of Matrimonial Lawyers. But for the wealthy--unless you're in a 50-50 community-property state--when love fades, the wife's value is inversely calculated: the richer the household, the less, proportionally, she gets. One such wife, Lorna Wendt, 53, has decided to fight that principle. She returns to court in Stamford, Connecticut, this week, having turned down a $10 million offer from her husband Gary Wendt, 54, the chief executive of General Electric's GE Capital. "I view marriage as a partnership," says Lorna, who contends that Gary has made roughly $100 million (his lawyer claims it's less than half that), "and I was actually quite surprised to find out that my husband does not believe that, nor, possibly, do the courts."

"This isn't a matter of what Lorna needs but of return on investment," says Stanford economist Myra Strober, who testified on her behalf. The Wendts started out with a net worth of $2,500, counting all their wedding gifts, and she gave up her job as a music teacher shortly after helping to put him through Harvard Business School. (Lorna has introduced into evidence her Ph.T., a "Put Hubby Through" degree, awarded by the dean back then.) They proceeded to hit it big.

Men argue that they spend countless hours at the office, missing their children, and bear all the corporate stress. Robert Epstein, Gary's lawyer, says the offer "far exceeds anything she ever dreamed of when she first married. Equitable does not mean equal." Without denying her contribution, he told the New York Times it was "de minimus."

One of her lawyers, Sarah Oldham, notes that Lorna packed up and sold five houses and took primary responsibility for the two kids. She created what William H. Whyte Jr., author of The Organization Man, once called an island of tranquillity that would "liberate her husband's total energies for the job." Eight days after the Wendts' first child was born, according to Oldham, "Lorna got a call from Mr. Wendt's secretary saying, 'Your husband has decided to have a dinner party tonight. There will be 12 people arriving at 7.'"

Not every corporate spouse is selfless--there's the cartoon figure who divides her time between the country-club tennis pro and the hairdresser. But women like Lorna are often the difference between the guy who is stuck as vice president of human resources and the president. It's hard to feel sympathy for someone asked to scrape by on a mere $10 mil, but given her superior performance, shouldn't she share the spoils of reaching the top slot?

In California, courts have begun putting value on the social trappings of a high-end marriage: the A-list party invitations and the good table at Spago. Given what awaits a 53-year-old divorce in Stamford who may be lucky to be invited to a potluck supper with Scrabble, Gary Wendt's decision to spin off Lorna after 31 years should get her half and then some.

--With reporting by Andrea Sachs/New York

With reporting by Andrea Sachs/New York