“You don’t need to love me,” Patrick said. “I can give you everything you need and more!”
“You can’t,” Cin said, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I’m sorry, Patrick, but you can’t. When I agreed to marry you, I believed you when you said that you could. But you were wrong. We were both wrong.”
“Just tell me what you want, Cindy,” Patrick pleaded. “Anything at all, and I will buy it for you.”
More tears slid down Cin’s cheeks, and she turned from Patrick to me. “I don’t want you to buy me anything,” she whispered. “I want Sean.”
Patrick frowned. “No. That is unacceptable.”
“Accept it,” I said. “Listen, we don’t want any of your precious money, and we don’t want to drag your name through the mud. Just leave us alone, and we’ll leave you alone. Now I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“You can’t keep my wife here,” Patrick said.
“He’s not keeping me,” Cin said. “I’m staying.” Patrick went for his cell phone, but Cin held up her hand. “What are you going to do, Patrick, call the cops? My father was the police chief in this town for over twenty years, and Sean’s dad was the fire chief for even longer. No officer in the county will arrest either of us for anything short of murder, and even that would be a tough call. Just go, and mail me the divorce papers.”
Emily held open the shop door. “I think you’d better leave.”
Patrick threw another glare at Cin and I, then he stomped out to the parking lot. “Lock it,” I called over my shoulder, then I scooped up Cin and carried her upstairs and into the living room.
“You okay, baby?” I asked as I settled us on the couch, Cin on my lap.
“I’m fine,” she said. She looked toward the stairs; Emily had followed us up. “I’m so sorry, Emily. I imagined the three of us having a civil conversation, not…that.”
“It’s okay,” Emily said, taking a seat on the coffee table. “I mean, it’s not like Sean and I were ever in love. Our only real connection is the girls.”
“They’re beautiful,” Cin said. “You’re a great mother to them.”
Emily smiled. “Eh, they have a good father too.” Emily paused, then asked, “About that speech you gave Patrick, was that off the top of your head?”
“What, words like moat and barbican aren’t in your everyday vocabulary?” Cin asked. “I may have rehearsed it in my head a few times. And written it in a novel.”
Emily nodded approvingly. “That is badass.”
The three of us sat there smiling at each other for a moment; man, how could this be going so well when everything had just gone to shit downstairs? “Emily, you don’t need to move out,” I said. “I mean, not until you’re ready. Or stay here forever, if you want. There’s more than enough room for all of us.”
Emily sighed. “We’ve been roommates for a while now, haven’t we?”
“Hey roomie,” I said, “wanna make a packy run?”
We all laughed at that. “I’m going to go to the library and study for a while. When does your mother want to relinquish custody of the girls?” Emily asked.
“Probably never, but I suggest giving her a call around lunchtime,” I replied. Emily stood to leave, and I called after her, “Hey, Emily?”
“What?”
“Thanks.”
She smiled again, and it reached her eyes. “Welcome.”
Once we were alone I gathered Cin close and kissed her hair. “Are you sure you’re okay? And the baby too?”
“I’m sure,” she replied. “Patrick’s big on threats, but I don’t really see what he can do in this situation. He can’t force me to stay married to him, and you’re right―a DNA test would disprove any paternity he claimed.” She clutched my shirt and shuddered; I wondered if she’d imagined growing old with Patrick.
“We can always have a lawyer look over a copy of that prenup,” I suggested. “Didn’t Sam say he’d put his mother on it? We need to get her a copy, fast.”
“There’s one in my safe deposit box,” Cin replied. “Britt has a key.”
“My girls, all of them brilliant.” I stood and hoisted Cin in my arms.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked.
“The bad man upset you,” I said as I carried her to our bedroom. “I know just the way to relax you.”
“Do you?” Cin asked, leaving a trail of kisses across my neck.
“You know it, baby.”
I hauled Cin inside our bedroom, and in a surge of machismo kicked the door shut. Cin laughed, then I dropped her on the bed and worked on getting that smile off her face. Or being there for different reasons.
“Sean!”
Yeah, I heard Emily. But I pretended I hadn’t and kept pushing Cin’s shirt up higher.
“Sean!”
“Goddamnit, what?” I roared. Cin looked up at me, wide-eyed.
“Sorry, Cinnamon,” I said, bending down to nuzzle her neck. “I don’t like being interrupted.”
“Uh huh,” Cin said, then she yelled, “What’s up, Emily?”
“Leslie’s on the phone.”
I sat straight up so fast Cin fell back on the bed. I looked at her, and said, “Shit.”
Chapter Thirty
Cindy
Present Day
Sean leapt up from the bed, hardly pausing to fix his clothes before he ran out of the room. For a moment I laid on the bed, stunned, then I understood: Sean still needed to tell his mother that I was here, and cooking her yet another grandchild.
I left the bedroom, intent on offering Sean whatever moral support I could, and found him and Emily in the kitchen. He was hunched over the house’s landline while Emily stood opposite him, arms crossed and frowning.
“It’s all right, Ma,” Sean said. “He can’t do anything.”
“Who can’t do anything?” I asked.
Emily turned on me, and spat, “Your husband called Leslie right after Sean made him leave. He told her that if Sean doesn’t send you back to him, he can make things bad for her and James as well. He mentioned the girls.” Emily’s voice caught, and she cleared her throat.
“He’s joking, right?” Emily asked. “I mean, he’s just an attorney. He can’t really do anything, can he?”
I wanted to tell her that she was right, that Patrick was just a man who was good at scare tactics. I wanted to tell her that everything would be okay. Both of those things would have been lies.
“Patrick is capable of many terrible things,” I said. “Honestly, I don’t see what he could do to Leslie and James, or you and the girls, for that matter. But I will say that he’s, um, creative when he wants to make a point.”
“How creative?” Emily demanded. “What has this man done?”
I stared at her for a moment, my mouth opening and closing like a fish on dry land. Should I tell her about the ten years of surveillance I’d endured? How Patrick had hired photographers to document my free time, and how those images had been used as an incentive to make me convince Sean to let Patrick adopt Britt? How Patrick had done everything he could think of to remove me from my former, happy life, move me hundreds of miles away, and keep me with him?
Crap. If I told her all of that, she’d have nightmares for weeks.
Sean hung up the phone, and ran a hand through his hair. “All right. So Pat the King of Assholes called Ma, told her that I’m keeping you,” Sean jerked his chin toward me, “here against your will, and that he would call the authorities if you weren’t back in New York by tomorrow.”
“That’s insane,” I said. “What did Leslie say?”
“She told Pat to shove it up his ass and hung up on him.” Sean fixed Emily in his gaze. “Girls are fine, Emily. I swear it.”
“I know, I just…” Emily clenched her fists. “A few weeks ago, I had a boyfriend, two great kids, good GPA—then my boyfriend had a nostalgia fuck with his ex at a wedding I didn’t even want to go to, and my life’s been crumbling around me ever since.”
&nb
sp; “Emily,” Sean said, but Emily shook her head.
“Don’t even try to talk your way out of this,” she snapped. “I’m through with your lies.” Emily gave me a look so cold I shivered. “This is your mess, Cindy. Clean it up.”
Emily stalked out of the room, leaving Sean and I standing there. “She’s just upset,” Sean said. “She didn’t mean that.”
“She did,” I said, “and she’s right. This…this is all my fault.” I covered my face with my hands, my entire body shaking. “God, Sean, what am I doing? I should have left him the right way, never should have come here where he can bother your family. I-I never meant to mess up so bad.”
“Hey.” Sean wrapped his arms around me, and tucked my head under his chin. “If you’re guilty, then so am I. Maybe more so. And have you forgotten that we have the same family?”
“I meant Emily and the girls,” I sobbed. “They don’t need to be involved in Patrick’s games. They’re innocent.”
Sean tightened his arms around me. “Like you said, Patrick can’t really do anything. He’s just blowing smoke up Ma’s ass.”
I snorted. “I would pay good money to watch you say that to your mother’s face.”
“I’m not as dumb as I look.” Sean held me at arm’s length, then used his thumbs to wipe my cheeks. “We’ll get through this. You with me?”
I nodded. “I am.”
***
The three of us went to pick up the girls, with Sean and me in his truck, and Emily following along in her sensible little car. It was one of those environmentally friendly compact cars, like the ones Patrick used to foist upon me when we were first married. After I’d cashed one of my last big royalty checks, I took Britt and Chef Aggie car shopping with me to the same dealership Patrick frequented. After the owner saw the tiny, inhumane vehicle Attorney Sullivan’s wife was forced to drive around in, he helped me lease a Mercedes that matched Patrick’s own.
I wondered if my current Mercedes was still gathering dust in the mall parking lot. That vehicle, and Aggie’s cooking, were the only things I missed about New Rochelle.
“What are you thinking about?” Sean asked.
“Cars,” I replied. “And that I miss my Mercedes more than Patrick.” I sighed. “I called her Friday.”
“You named your car?”
“Don’t even act like it’s weird to have strong feelings toward an inanimate object,” I said. “You’re so attached to this truck it practically has an umbilical cord.”
Sean laughed, then we pulled onto his parents’ street. They still lived in the house Sean had grown up in, and I could see my previous residence through the yard behind it. It was nice, seeing home again.
“Think anyone’s been shimmying up that tree?” Sean asked, jerking his chin toward the oak that grew next to my former bedroom window.
“I hope not,” I replied. “That tree looks like it could topple over in a strong wind.”
Sean grabbed my hand, and kissed my knuckles. “Good thing we’ve got the big house.”
“Good thing.”
We all got out of our respective vehicles, and went inside. Leslie and the girls were seated around the kitchen table, coloring. Penny and Ronnie squealed when they saw Sean and Emily, and ran into their parents’ arms. While they all said hello, I approached Leslie.
“Was he very awful?” I asked without preamble.
“No more than usual,” Leslie said. “What I’d like to know is how he got my phone number.”
“You’re listed in the book, Ma,” Sean said.
“They still print those?” Leslie mused. “Anyway, I’ve probably heard all I’m going to hear from him. He tried intimidating us back when you first got married, and since it didn’t work then, it won’t work now.”
“What did he do?” Emily asked. “Back then, I mean.”
“He tried many things, but the kicker was when he put surveillance on our house,” Leslie replied. “When James confronted the agent, he damn near scared him to death.”
“Served the jerk right,” Sean said. “Remember when I found the guy behind my shop?”
Emily looked from Leslie to Sean, and then at me. “Surveillance?” she asked. “What the hell was that about?”
I coughed, and looked at the floor. “Patrick wanted to ensure I wasn’t cheating on him.”
“Were you?” Emily asked.
“That’s not really relevant,” Sean began, only to fall silent when I touched his arm.
“I never cheated on Patrick,” I replied. “I was always faithful to my husband…until a few weeks ago.”
Saying it aloud opened the floodgates, and I turned away as hot tears streamed down my face. I heard Leslie tell Sean to help Emily with the girls, then she took my elbow and guided me into the living room.
“Get off your feet,” she said, and I sat on the couch. “I’m going to get the whiskey.”
“I can’t have any whiskey,” I said.
“Who said it’s for you?”
Leslie returned a moment later, and set two glasses and the bottle on the coffee table. “You know, when I told you that I wanted you to come visit us, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” I glanced up at her. “Did Sean tell you what set Patrick on the warpath?”
“No, but I assume it’s because you’re here with him, instead of down in New York.”
“Partly, but that’s not all.” I took a deep breath, and said, “Me and Sean. We’re pregnant again.”
Leslie’s smile lit up her whole face, and lightened my mood a bit. “Really? Will it be another girl?”
“You and your princesses, Grandma,” I said. After Britt came along, Leslie’s dream had been to dress up all her granddaughters as princesses. A wrench got thrown into that plan when Sean’s brothers’ wives only produced boys, but the dream had lived again in Penny and Ronnie.
Sean joined us. He took one look at the bottle and glasses, and poured out two measures of whiskey. “Emily is taking the girls home,” he said. “I calmed her down a bit, but she’s still freaked out. Also, she thinks you have Stockholm Syndrome.”
“Me?” I asked. “How does she figure that?”
“She can’t think of a single other reason you would have stayed with that asshole for as long as you did.”
I flopped back on the couch. “Crap. Maybe she’s right.”
“Of course she isn’t,” Leslie said. “If you did, you’d be there now. Or maybe you did have it, but you were cured.” She glanced between Sean and I, sipping her whiskey. “Any idea what the cure could have been?”
“True love?” Sean replied.
I laughed. “I do feel like I finally climbed out of the Pit of Despair.”
Leslie tossed back her whiskey, then she set down her glass and patted my knee. “You two and your obscure movies.”
“The Princess Bride is not obscure!”
“I’m going to start lunch,” Leslie continued. “Any requests?”
“Chocolate cake?” I asked hopefully.
“I might be able to manage that.”
“Thank God. If I don’t have some cake soon this kid’s going to riot.”
Leslie patted my hand, then she stood and went back to the kitchen. As soon as she was gone, Sean moved into the spot she’d vacated beside me on the couch. “You know this will all work out, right?” he asked.
“I do, I just wish we were already past it.” Sean hooked an arm around my neck, and drew me in for a kiss. “You taste like whiskey.”
“So? You like whiskey. I think you’re jealous.”
I pressed my hand to my belly. “Not at all.”
Chapter
Thirty-One
Cindy
Present Day
Patrick kept up his random and rather useless harassment of my and Sean’s families for another day or so, but all of that ended when he decided to call Sam’s parents. Captain MacKellar had not taken kindly to Patrick’s idle threats, and apparently the
two of them had gotten into a legal screaming match, hurling case law and state statutes at one another over the phone. Britt had relayed that bit of information to us, and while she did, I could hear Sam laughing his butt off in the background.
That had happened on Friday afternoon, and by the time Monday morning rolled around we had been Patrick-free for over two days. Bliss. Since things were quiet on that front, temporarily at least, Sean went down to the store early to accept some deliveries. That left Emily, the girls, and myself to share the upstairs living space. While the girls were a wonderful distraction from Emily’s and my awkward living situation, they could only do so much. If Emily and I were to keep up our uneasy truce, something would need to change, and fast.
After we politely ignored the white elephant in the room for an hour or so, I went down to the shop to see what Sean was up to. I found his manager, Kyle, out front stocking the new release shelves. Sean was sitting at his desk in the back office, talking to someone on the store’s landline.
“I’m pretty sure she has health insurance now, but I want us all on one bill,” he was saying. “When can I put her on this policy?” A pause. “All right. Now, what about care for the baby? There’s going to be doctor visits and stuff.” Another pause, during which Sean leaned back and stretched. “Can you email me these forms?” The person on the other end must have said yes, because Sean smiled; even though I was behind him, I could hear it in his voice. “All right, thank you.”
Sean put down the phone and scribbled a few notes. I stepped up behind his chair and slid my hands across his shoulders and down to his chest. “Hey, Cinnamon,” he said. “How long have you been there?”
“I just got here,” I replied. “Who were you talking to?”
Changing Fate (Changing Teams Series Book 3) Page 14
