He froze, sure he heard her wrong. “Did it hit you?”
“I have five stitches on my forehead,” she said sheepishly. “I told my coworkers I ran into a door.”
Garrett jumped up from his chair and began to pace. “God, Kelsey. You’ve told me all about his chronic unemployment, but you never once told me he was violent. Never.”
She remained silent.
Concerned she’d hang up if he lashed out, he took a deep breath and counted to five, until he was a little calmer. “Before this glass incident, had he ever hurt you? Was this the first time, Kelsey?”
“He’ll try to take Addie. I can’t lose her, Garrett. And now I’m pregnant and he’ll try to take this baby too.”
That was answer enough.
She started to cry, and his stomach twisted. The last time he’d heard her cry was when they were kids.
He slipped into attorney mode. “Is he living with you now?”
“I told him to leave, but he won’t.”
“Is the mortgage in just your name? Or is it in his name too?”
“Just mine.”
“Do you want to work this out with him?” He hoped to God she said no. He understood the complexities of why women stayed with abusive men, but he never imagined his older, stronger sister falling into this trap. Yet his experience as a divorce attorney had demonstrated that no woman could be helped until she was ready to accept that she needed it. And only Kelsey could come to that decision.
“No,” she said quietly. “What if he hits Addie? He already gets short with her if she cries too much.”
Garrett clenched his fist and then unclenched it. “Has he hurt Addie? Kels, has he hurt my baby girl?”
“No.”
“You’re sure? You’re not covering for him?”
“You think I’d let him hurt Addie?” she asked in disbelief.
“I know how this works, Kels. It’s not a reflection on you or your parenting. It’s a slow build until you’re left wondering how you got there. It starts off with yelling—everybody yells, right? There’s nothing wrong with yelling. It’s expected. But then it’s a shove. What’s a shove? Nothing really. Or a tap with a foot. It wasn’t a kick. Then the next thing you know, he’s slapping, then punching. And then you’ve reached the point where you’re wondering how in the hell you got there, and you can’t figure out how to escape.”
She was sobbing now.
“Kelsey, I’m your escape plan. Let me help you.”
“I’m so ashamed, Garrett. I’m a professional. I make six figures. How the hell did I get here?”
He walked over to the windows, lowering his voice. “No, Kels. No judgment from me or anyone who cares about you. It happens to all sorts of women—income has nothing to do with it. I just want to make sure you and the babies are safe.”
“But Addie…he’ll try to take her.”
“I’m damn good at what I do, and don’t forget Blair. We’ll both take your case, and by the time we’re done with him, he’ll be sliced to ribbons.”
“But we’re not married.”
“And thank God for that. But if what you say is true, you’ll have a custody case on your hands. We’ll fight the bastard for all we’re worth. Blair loves Addie. She’d sooner fight Drake in hand-to-hand combat than let him have custody of her.”
“Blair could probably take him,” Kelsey said, laughing through her tears.
“Damn right she could.” He paused and turned his gaze to an overhead TV showing a nationwide weather map. “Listen, I’m in San Diego right now, but I should be home tonight as long as the snow storm in the east doesn’t keep delaying planes. You need to get out of the house until we can get the locks changed and notify the sheriff.”
“I can’t do that, Garrett. It’s embarrassing.”
“Would you rather he hurt Addie?” It was a low blow, but he knew she’d protect her daughter before she protected herself.
“No, of course not! I just want to be reasonable about this.”
“Kelsey, take a step back and look at it from my perspective. You’re living with a man who hasn’t held a full-time job for longer than six months in the last five years. He completely lives off you, except for when he’s out screwing someone else. He offers absolutely no help with the household responsibilities, and he hurts you both emotionally and physically. Do you think you should let him live in your house with your baby?”
“Where will he go?”
“Not your problem.”
“But—”
“You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.” He paused. “When does the new job start?”
“In a month.”
“Did you turn it down?”
“Not yet, but—”
“If Drake weren’t in the picture, would you take it?”
“Yes. In a heartbeat.”
“Then take it and see how soon you can get here.”
“But I have to pack and—”
“I’ll help. We’ll help. We’ll find you a place and we won’t tell Drake where it is. You’ll get through this, Kelsey. We’ll help you. You deserve better.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
He forced a laugh. “I’m going to bask in this moment.”
“Thank you, Garrett.”
“For tonight, either stay in a hotel or go stay with Nana Ruby.”
“I can’t stay with Nana Ruby.”
“I think she’ll be more understanding than you think. She loves you too, Kelsey. She’s likely to kick Drake’s ass before I can get to him.”
“You wouldn’t kick his ass.”
“I most certainly would. But while I’d love nothing more than to punch his pretty face, I think my legal maneuvers will be much more effective and longer lasting.”
“I didn’t expect you to solve this, Garrett,” she said quietly. “I only called for advice.”
“You’re the only one who can do this, Kelsey, but I’ll be there to support you every step of the way.”
She was quiet for a moment. “You never said what was bothering you.”
He released a short laugh. “Trust me, my issues pale in comparison to yours.”
“Great,” she said. “Now I’m a poster child for issues. Come on, Gar, make me feel better about my problems. I don’t want to be alone.”
He groaned. “Fine, it’s Blair.”
“What about her?”
“I think she regrets marrying me.”
Kelsey gasped. “How can you say that? She’s crazy about you.”
“She loves me but on her own terms. She doesn’t mind when I leave town, and she doesn’t act like she misses me at all. I jokingly told her that my boss offered me my old job back, but instead of laughing, she suggested I take it.”
“She was probably joking.”
“I can assure you she wasn’t.”
Kelsey sighed. “We both know Blair’s not like other women.”
“I know, and trust me, I love that about her. But would it kill her to admit she needs me?”
“She just needs time.”
“What if that’s not it?” he asked. “What if she’s decided she’s made a mistake and doesn’t want to be married anymore?”
“I don’t think she’s thinking anything along those lines, Garrett. I know she loves you. It’s so obvious she does.”
”I know. I know she loves me. I love her too. But sometimes I ask myself if love is enough.”
“You’re asking the wrong damn person, bro.”
Chapter Three
Melissa stood in the doorway, worry wrinkling her brow. “Blair, are you okay?”
Blair stared at the phone in her hand. Call him back. Call him back and tell him you don’t want him to move back to San Diego.
“Blair?”
She sucked in a breath and pushed it out, forcing herself to compartmentalize her situation to the back of her mind. She had a settlement to work through. Business came before personal life.
But how co
uld she continue on as though nothing had just happened? She reexamined the conversation, coming to the conclusion that she had overreacted. That’s right. Blair Hansen-Lowry—the woman known for her nerves of steel—had overreacted.
“Is Garrett okay?” Melissa asked.
“What?” Blair shook off her daze. “Yeah. His flight was delayed. Something about a snow storm in Chicago.”
“All sorts of flights are being canceled. Good thing the storm isn’t hitting us.”
“Yeah,” Blair said absently.
“But he should be home in time to celebrate your first Valentine’s Day together since you married.”
“You know we don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day.” She knew she sounded more terse than she intended. She rubbed her temple. “Melissa. I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”
Melissa walked into her office. “You know what I think?”
Blair shook her head. “What?”
“I think you could use a lunch with Megan. Want me to see if she’s available? Around one-thirty?”
Ordinarily Blair would be pissed if anyone suggested that she needed to talk to someone, but Melissa knew her well, having figured her out soon after she’d started working as Blair’s assistant. And Blair really needed to have an honest heart-to-heart with one of her two best friends. “She might have plans.”
“There’s only one way to find out. You go in there and deal with Allison DeSanto, and I’ll call Megan. I’ll text you if I get something set up.”
“Thanks.” She stood and took another deep breath and exhaled, then smoothed her skirt. She needed to get her shit together.
Allison was in the conference room, raging about the temperature of the water in her glass.
And that was about all that Blair was going to take from her today. Blair placed her hands on the conference room table and leaned forward, staring her client in the eye. “Ms. DeSanto, do you really feel so entitled that you are actually complaining that the temperature of your water is off by two degrees?”
She lifted her chin. “Hardly. I said it was off by ten degrees.”
Blair held her gaze, ready for a staring contest if necessary. “You do realize there are villages in Africa that have no running water? That children are forced to walk miles each way—every day—to get buckets of water and haul them back to their homes?”
She shook her head. “That doesn’t happen anymore.”
“It most certainly does.” Blair stood up and closed the door, then sat in the chair next to her client. “Allison, why are you so wrapped up in this petty shit? Why? Who cares who gets the toaster?”
Pain flickered in the woman’s eyes before she lifted her shoulder in a half-shrug. “It’s robin’s egg blue and toasts four slices.”
“You can get another one just like it at the Target down the street. Why are you doing this?”
The woman didn’t answer.
“When you came to me, you told me you were sure Marco had cheated on you, though you had no proof. Yet when I suggested a private investigator, you refused. Why?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t see the point.”
“So you’re doing this to make him pay for cheating when you’re not even sure he did?”
Tears filled her eyes.
“What’s the real reason you want to get divorced?”
“Why does anyone get divorced?”
Why, indeed. Blair, however, was not about to tackle this question, not right now, after her argument with Garrett. Safer to focus on Allison DeSanto’s crippled marriage.
Blair was usually good at weeding through the bullshit and figuring out the underlying reasons a woman was filing for divorce, but every time she tried to figure out what made Allison tick, she hit a wall. Surely Allison couldn’t be that shallow. Then again, her parents had taught her to enjoy all the finer things in life. They had doted on her every moment of her life and she had never lived without them.
Maybe Allison was that shallow. “I’m not asking why divorce happens. I’m asking why you want a divorce, Allison.”
Anger filled Allison’s eyes. “It shouldn’t matter to you why I’m getting divorced, only that I am. Can’t you handle the simple job of dividing my assets? I thought you were supposed to be good.”
Blair’s back stiffened. “I charge by the hour, Ms. DeSanto, so if you want to drag this thing on forever, be my guest. But believe it or not, there are women out there with real issues. After thirty years of marriage, their husbands have left them for newer versions and want to leave these women absolutely nothing. Or you might have a woman with two kids whose husband beat her, yet he’s put everything in his own name, leaving her with absolutely no money or resources to escape.”
Allison looked straight ahead, her chin quivering.
Blair tapped her nail on the table, studying her client. “I’ll continue this settlement meeting, but I need to know what you want.”
“I want everything.”
“Given that there’s no proof he cheated on you or harmed you in any way, that’s not realistic or fair to him. You’ll need to be more specific about the things you want.”
“I want the house.”
“Then you have to give up an amount of assets equal to his half of the house, and frankly, I’m not sure there are enough assets to cover it.”
“Then make it happen.”
Blair groaned. This was going to be a long day.
She stood and opened the door, then walked into the client lounge. “I think we’re ready to continue.”
“Is she willing to negotiate with my client?” Dane asked.
Marco crossed his arms in a show of nonchalance, though his face betrayed his anxiety, and Dane flashed him an arrogant smile, signaling his premature confidence.
“I guess we’ll find out.”
But an hour later, they’d made little progress.
As Allison hemmed and hawed over who got the dining room furniture—piece by piece, down to the furniture polish—Blair looked out the glass conference room wall and was relieved to discover her friend Megan standing by the door. Megan gave her a wave, then gestured toward Blair’s office.
Blair nodded and looked at her phone. “It’s one o’clock. If we want to continue with this, I think we should take a lunch break.”
Dane rolled his shoulders and sighed. “I was hoping to wrap this up sooner rather than later.”
Blair glanced at her petulant client. “I think most of us were.”
Allison scrunched up her nose. “I think we should keep going.”
“Some of us actually like to eat,” Marco said with a bitter tone. “I might even go out for a heaping plate of spaghetti.”
Allison put her hand on the table and narrowed her eyes at her husband. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“We never ate carbs when we were together. I’ve been eating them every day since the day I left.”
Allison stood and glared down at him. “I never told you that you couldn’t eat carbs, Marco! I was the one who couldn’t eat carbs!”
He stood and shouted, “I never said you couldn’t eat carbs! What made you think you couldn’t eat them?”
“Because they put five pounds on my hips! Last summer you told me those white shorts made me look hippy.” She shook her head, her face turning red. “You can go eat all the spaghetti in Italy for all I care.” Then she stomped toward the door.
“Two o’clock?” Blair asked Dane.
He gave a sharp nod, then looked up at his client for acknowledgment, but Marco’s gaze followed Allison down the hall.
“Did you really tell her that her shorts made her look hippy?” Blair asked before she could stop herself. Talk about unprofessional.
“Yeah…I guess.” He looked confused. “But she’d asked.”
Blair tried to stifle her groan. Men.
She hurried down the hall and found Allison by the exit. She glanced back at Blair with a tear-streaked face.
“We’ll start again at two,”
Blair said, then lowered her voice. “Did he talk to you like that throughout your marriage?”
Allison looked confused. “Like what?”
“Did he make references to your weight?”
Allison’s chin quivered. “I don’t know, Blair. I don’t know. Leave me alone.”
She spun around and walked toward the staircase, bypassing the elevator.
Maybe there was more to this divorce than Blair realized.
She passed Dane and his client on their way out, then found Megan sitting on the edge of Melissa’s desk.
“Blair.” Megan stood and offered her a bright smile. “We haven’t seen each other since we were in New York for Libby’s photography exhibit, yet we only live like five miles apart. We need to see each other more often.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Well, I’m here now, and I’m starving. Where are we eating?”
Blair gestured toward Megan’s stomach. “You’re the one who’s pregnant. Are you craving anything?”
It was still hard for Blair to think of her practically lifelong friend as pregnant—either of her friends. They’d both announced their pregnancies at Libby’s exhibit weeks before.
Megan’s eyes lit up. “Bacon cheeseburgers.”
“Your baby’s into junk food? Already? I thought they saved that for the teen years.”
Megan laughed. “Don’t judge. Just feed me.”
“There’s a place around the corner that will take care of your craving.” Blair shot a glance to Melissa. “Would you like to come?”
“We’d love to have you,” Megan said.
Melissa smiled. “Thanks for the invite, but I have too much work to do. I’d love a rain check, though.”
Blair started to protest, but Melissa shook her head. “You two go. You need this.”
Megan gave Melissa a wave as she and Blair walked out of her office and toward the hallway.
“So other than your cravings for high-fat red meat, how else are you feeling?” Blair asked, grinning.
“Remarkably good. No morning sickness at all.”
“I hear the same can’t be said for Libby,” Blair said. “I called her a few nights ago, and Noah said she couldn’t even come to the phone.”
Megan grimaced. “She’s been really sick. Noah had to take her to the hospital for dehydration.”
The Wedding Pact Box Set Page 93
