Redemption in Love (Hearts on the Line)

by Lee, Nadia

  Luna brought out a tray of tea and cookies and disappeared. Stella ignored the refreshments. “I heard from Meredith that you’re divorcing my son.”

  Amandine’s stomach suddenly felt tight. “Things…haven’t worked out.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. But I hope you won’t try to cut all of us out.”

  “Of course not. It’d be cruel to deprive the baby of its grandma and uncles and aunts.”

  The tension around Stella’s mouth loosened. “Thank you. I’m afraid I did many things wrong by you and Catherine.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “When Jacob and Catherine announced they were getting married, I could tell something wasn’t quite right. I always thought she’d marry Gavin.”

  “You did…?”

  Stella nodded. “I can piece together quite a bit from what my children say and do. You’ll see, when you have some of your own.” She picked up a sugar cookie and bit into it. “Then, a year after Catherine and Jacob’s wedding ceremony, Gavin suddenly married you, Catherine’s cousin. My children’s happiness is important to me, and I didn’t know what to make of it at first. I assumed you and Catherine had ‘played’ my sons, as the younger crowd says these days.” A rueful smile twisted her face, and something like regret flitted through her eyes. “As it turns out, I was wrong. Jacob’s an embarrassment, and Gavin can’t be happy when you aren’t. I’ve never gone out of my way to make you feel welcome and included in the family.”

  Amandine shook her head. “Stella, please. You’ve always been so gracious to me.”

  “Grace devoid of warmth isn’t really being gracious, dear.” Stella put half the cookie back on her plate. “I don’t know if you’re going to want to keep in touch, but I hope you do.”

  “Of course I will.”

  “Marvelous.” Stella reached across the table and held Amandine’s hand. “Now, I have a piece of advice. Once the divorce is final, find somebody who’ll love you and make you happy. Life is short.”

  “What about Gavin?”

  “Gavin’s hurting now, but he’ll get over it once he realizes he wasn’t the right man for you.”

  A big lump formed in Amandine’s throat. Blinking her tears away, she nodded and cleared her throat. “Would you like to see the sonogram photos and stay for lunch?”

  Stella’s face brightened. “That would be wonderful. Thank you, Amandine.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  A COUPLE OF WEEKS LATER, Amandine found herself back at La Mer. She hadn’t made a reservation; Mark Pryce had called and insisted she come around and eat before she got too big to move.

  She agreed, especially now that Dr. Silverman had given her the okay to go out so long as she was careful. She’d lost her appetite, and maybe something delicious from La Mer would do the trick.

  Gavin hadn’t come back after their talk. He hadn’t called or come to her appointments with Dr. Silverman either. It was like he didn’t want anything to do with her or the baby.

  Like her cousin said, it’d be foolish to hang onto a man who didn’t want her. Even Stella had agreed with that. But still, it hurt. Deep in her heart, Amandine didn’t care what Gavin wanted.

  She missed him.

  “You look good,” Mark said as he led her to a table by the aquarium.

  She had taken care, trying to cover up her misery and the general feeling of being unwell. A pretty pink dress with spaghetti straps hung from her shoulders, and instead of the usual stilettos, she wore sensible ballet slippers. Her curled and teased hair fell behind her like a silken cape, and she’d even put on extra makeup. She didn’t want to appear a pathetic unwanted wife in public. It’d be her private shame.

  Mark pulled out a comfortable chair for her, then sat down himself. He didn’t look like he owned the restaurant. His simple white shirt had the two top buttons undone, and the sleeves were rolled all the way to his elbows, exposing tanned forearms. He wore black slacks just like the staff—though his were made of expensive silk.

  “Heard from a few people that you bartend here. Do you enjoy it?” she asked.

  “Yeah. It’s not bad.”

  “Don’t you have enough staff?”

  “We do, but La Mer’s still new. I like to keep an eye on things.”

  “You won’t have to much longer. It’s doing so well,” she said, taking a sweeping look. It was packed with people dressed in designer clothes, and every time someone walked by she got a whiff of some expensive perfume or cologne. The tablecloths were thick white cotton, the pristine flatware well-balanced and heavy. Everything was served on high quality china and exquisite crystal.

  “How about you?” Mark asked. “All good?”

  “As good as it can be.” She ordered a few items including the day’s special—grilled scallops wrapped with smoked bacon. Hopefully a change of menu would revive her love of food.

  Mark ordered the same.

  “Are you eating with me?” she asked.

  “Yup. I’m starving. Besides, it sucks to eat alone.”

  She gave him a small smile. When Mark had called she’d been half-hoping that the lunch was a set-up to put her together with Gavin again. It’d be like a movie or something. They’d eat, and talk—awkwardly at first—then realize they loved each other and reconcile. Gavin would sweep her up in his arms and carry her out of the restaurant while the other patrons clapped and cheered.

  What a sentimental fool she was. Real life wasn’t a Hollywood fantasy. “Have you…” She cleared her throat. “Have you heard anything from Gavin in the last few days?”

  Mark’s eyes softened. “He just bought a penthouse. He’s going to move in this week.”

  “I see.”

  “And he’s closing his funds.”

  The glass of orange juice almost slipped from her fingers. “What?”

  “Not all of them. He’s going to manage one or two for his family—I think he’s getting somebody to help him run them, though—and the rest will be delegated to his associates. He’s cutting way, way back. Some of his clients left, but most of them are staying, including me. Mom’s on my case right now though, telling me it’s a great chance to dump Gavin and move my assets to her brother’s firm.”

  “Good god.” She put down the glass with a thunk.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not leaving. My uncle’s not that—”

  “Did Gavin say why?” He no longer had a wife to consider. Granted he would have a child to deal with if he wanted—she didn’t plan to prevent him from getting to know his own flesh and blood—but she wasn’t due for months.

  “Not really. But I know he’d been thinking about it even before you guys decided to make the split final. Hilary told me.”

  If it came from Hilary, it had to be accurate. “Did she say what he’s going to do now?”

  “Just chill is what she said.”

  “Just…chill? That’s it?”

  Mark nodded.

  Amandine considered. “Have you seen him recently?”

  “Two days ago. He came here for a working lunch with a few of his associates.”

  “How did he look?”

  Mark shrugged. “He looked like Gavin.”

  So he wasn’t terminally ill. “I can’t believe he’s doing this. Success means so much to him.”

  A waiter refilled her glass with juice and vanished.

  Mark’s expression turned almost gentle. “It might have something to do with a woman named after a chocolate dessert.”

  Her fingers trembled on the table.

  “But hey, enough about Gavin,” he said, his voice suddenly brisk. “Let’s enjoy our dinner. It’s on me.” Mark winked as their waiter placed an appetizer of lightly fried calamari with a dipping sauce between them.

  Amandine forced herself to eat a few bites, but she couldn’t taste anything. Why had Gavin agreed to the divorce without a fight? Why was he still going ahead with closing of most of his funds? With her out of the way, he was free to devote as much time as he wanted t
o his work.

  She needed to talk to him.

  * * *

  Three hours later and back in her home, she tried to call Gavin. It went straight to voice mail.

  Amandine hung up, irritated with the mechanical female voice and suddenly unsure what she’d say. She couldn’t just blurt out, “Why are you quitting?”

  Her head pounded, and she felt slightly dizzy. She lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling fan. The staff still got paid and reported to work every day to keep the house in tiptop shape. The florist continued to deliver flowers, Luna still made the meals. Other than the fact that her husband was missing, the house was the way it used to be, every piece running smoothly to keep her comfortable and provided for.

  Suddenly she remembered her argument with Pete, and his insistence that if their father had really cared for them, he would’ve done everything to provide a decent life. It was easy to talk about love when you didn’t have to do anything “love” required.

  Gavin had done so much for her. He might not have given her that word, but did that single omission really invalidate everything else he’d done? She’d told him how angry she was about his neglect…and never given him a chance to tell her he was scaling down.

  Why hadn’t he said anything?

  Why would he, when you told him how unhappy he made you?

  Oh no. She squeezed her eyes shut. In her anger, she’d been overly harsh. His neglect and busy schedule had hurt her, but he hadn’t made her miserable. She’d never actually told him what she needed, always saying things were fine when they weren’t. She was just as responsible as him for their marriage failing.

  Was it too late?

  No, no. They hadn’t signed anything. There was still time.

  Desperate to talk to him, she dialed his cell, but the voice mail picked up again. Damn it. Should she try the office? She checked the time. Hilary was long gone, and Gavin never picked up his office phone.

  Tomorrow was D-Day at Samantha’s office. Samantha had said Craig was coming, and if he was coming Gavin must be too.

  Amandine had to talk with her husband.

  * * *

  The next morning, Amandine opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling. Today was the day.

  Gavin would be there. She was sure of it. What Mark had said changed her perception of things. It was like a kaleidoscope that contained the major pieces of her life had been jostled and now showed a different pattern. She wanted to talk with Gavin, really have an open dialogue. She shouldn’t let her fears destroy their chance at happiness.

  Sighing, she turned, wondering what time it was. The curtains in the bedroom blocked out light so well, it was difficult to tell.

  The bedside clock read eight oh one.

  She made a face. Ugh. She’d slept through the alarm.

  Quickly, she showered and spread apple-scented lotion all over her body. It was Gavin’s favorite. Then she stared at her clothes in the closet as the conveyor belt whirred. Red was too aggressive, and pink seemed too passive. No power suits. They wouldn’t do at all. And definitely not pants.

  She tapped her hips, considering her options. What other colors were there? Josephine had purchased hundreds of dresses. There must be something…

  Ah-ha!

  Amandine slapped the switch and the belt stopped. She pulled out a deep emerald dress that barely reached her knees and matching two-inch heeled sandals. Green was perfect—gentle, vibrant and fresh.

  Just as she finished getting dressed, Brooke arrived. She cocked an eyebrow and said, “Nice, but you can do better. Didn’t Samantha say you should wear a power suit?”

  Amandine shook her head. “No time to change. We’re late for the salon appointment.”

  “What salon appointment?” Scowling, Brooke pulled out her tablet to check Amandine’s schedule.

  “The one I made last night after I came home from La Mer.” Thankfully she had the manager’s cell phone number.

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to look good!”

  On their way out, Luna appeared, “Your breakfast is rea—”

  “After I get back,” Amandine said. There was no time.

  Brooke drove to the salon, and the sharply dressed receptionist led Amandine to her stylist. “Just to confirm, you’re here for hair and makeup, correct?”

  “Yes,” Amandine said, while Brooke stared at her as if she were an alien.

  “Thank you. Please feel free to order refreshments, magazines, whatever you like.”

  The receptionist disappeared, leaving her alone with the stylist and Brooke. The latter wasted no time ordering an iced latte and two chocolate-filled croissants. She handed one of the pastries to Amandine. “Your breakfast. You aren’t going anywhere else until you eat.”

  “Okay, okay!” Amandine started munching on it. The chocolate inside tasted amazing, dark, warm and gooey.

  “It’s just a divorce settlement,” Brooke said from the chair next to her, while the stylist worked on Amandine’s hair and eventually transformed it into an upswept style that somehow managed to emphasize her eyes. “You don’t have to be this worried about how you look. I bet Gavin’s going to show up as is.”

  “Well, that’s him. I’m different.”

  “Did something happen last night? You’re acting a little crazy.”

  Amandine gestured Brooke to come closer. Then in a low voice she said, “Gavin’s handing off almost all of the funds he’s managing to his associates.”

  “It’s about time.”

  Amandine stared at her in the mirror. Why doesn’t anyone else understand the importance of this?

  Brooke shrugged. “He’s made twenty billion already. How much more does he need?”

  “But…” Amandine sputtered. “Work is his life.”

  “Maybe he’s going to work on spending the money he’s already made then.” Brooke leaned back. “You know what people say. You can’t take it with you.”

  The makeup artist appeared, holding a brush. He was heroin-addict thin, but his complexion glowed. Either he was healthy despite his gauntness or he used something really good on his face. “So. What are you aiming for?” he asked.

  “She’s wants to knock ’em dead,” Brooke answered.

  He pursed his lips, looking at Amandine from various angles. “We can arrange that.”

  Some minutes later, he was finished. “Ta-da.”

  Amandine stared at herself in the mirror. “Wow.” She looked totally the same but different. Her eyes were bigger, her cheekbones more prominent without looking overly angular, her mouth fuller and more kissable. “You’re amazing.”

  “Don’t I know it.” He beamed. “Better hurry, sweetie. Didn’t you say you have an appointment? It’s already ten thirty.”

  “Yikes!” Amandine jumped out of her seat. Brooke was already rushing out, car keys ready.

  Thankfully the traffic to Samantha’s office wasn’t too bad. “Are you trying to make Gavin regret agreeing to divorce you?” Brooke asked.

  “I don’t want to look like a pathetic, rejected wife.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Brooke nodded. “I thought you were getting depressed or something. Pregnancy can turn any woman insane.”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “It so is that bad. Just ask my sister and her husband. She denies she was bad, but he has video evidence.”

  “He filmed it?”

  “Not on purpose, exactly. It just happened that way.”

  “Does he ever use it to prove a point?”

  “Hah! No. He knows what’s good for him.”

  “And they’re still married.” Amandine put a hand over her belly. The baby was still small, but she felt like she’d failed it already. If she hadn’t told Gavin she’d fight him for the divorce, they might not be meeting at Samantha’s office again. They might have worked out their issues and been a happy, united family already.

  Brooke parked in the underground garage in Samantha’s office building an
d ushered Amandine to the elevator. They were five minutes late. Amandine fidgeted. Gavin and Craig had to have arrived by now.

  The receptionist greeted them and took them to the conference room where Amandine had faced off with Gavin all those weeks ago. She took a deep fortifying breath.

  “You can do this,” Brooke said, squeezing her hand. “I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

  The door opened, and Amandine stepped forward. Inside were Samantha and Craig, but there was no sign of Gavin.

  Amandine took a seat next to Samantha. “Is Gavin late?” she asked, keeping her unsteady hands under the table.

  “He’s not coming,” Craig said.

  “What? Why not?” Amandine asked.

  “As you both know, he’s quite busy.” Condescension marred what could’ve been a nice smile. “I’ll be representing his interests and wishes.”

  But Gavin was supposed to be here. How and when was she going to talk to him?

  Apparently oblivious to Amandine’s distress, Samantha linked her fingers together and rested them on the thick document in front of her. “I’ve reviewed everything. It is a fair settlement.”

  “You mean generous,” Craig corrected. “It’s far more than what I suggested.”

  “She’s pregnant with his child. Half isn’t unreasonable,” Samantha said.

  Amandine blinked. “Half of what?”

  “His assets,” Samantha clarified.

  “Oh my…” Amandine tried to focus, but her vision dimmed, and the room spun. Her chest tightened painfully. Half… Why?

  Samantha put a hand on Amandine’s shoulder. “Breathe,” she said. “Breathe. Slowly. Come on.”

  Amandine followed instructions until her head cleared. Craig and Samantha were both looking at her with worry. “Do you need me to call your doctor?” Samantha asked.

  “No. I’m fine,” Amandine croaked. “I thought we had the prenup.”

  “Yes, but it’s what my client wants,” Craig said. “The prenup was there to protect him. He can always give you more. Unless you object?” He stared at Amandine hopefully.

  “My client does not object,” Samantha snapped.

  He shot her a dirty look. “The money will be held in a trust to ensure your client understands and upholds her end of the deal.” He gestured at the document in front of Samantha.