Spring, The Twosies

by Josie Brown

  Kimberley waited until Hailey ran off after the other children before stammering, “I’ve—I’ve done nothing of the kind! I’ve just been busy with the children.”

  Kelly winked. “Then we should set up a play date.”

  Kimberley shrugged. “Sure, okay. Why don’t we get Hailey and Wills together after meet-up next Wednesday?”

  Kelly laughed. “I didn’t mean the children, silly. I meant you and me.”

  Kimberley frowned. “I don’t play your sort of games anymore.”

  “A reformed woman, eh?” Kelly clapped ecstatically. “I’m impressed. In fact, you’ll be surprised to know that I’ve also turned over a new leaf.”

  Kimberley’s eyes narrowed with doubt. “What exactly does that mean?”

  “If you must know, Andy and I are no longer seeing each other. He’s found more fertile fields to plow.” She shrugged indifferently.

  Kimberley winced. “Do you—do you have any idea who he may be seeing?”

  “Just be grateful it’s not you,” Kelly chuckled. “I hear he’s gotten into some really kinky stuff.”

  Kimberley’s smile quivered. “Of course it’s not me! Jerry and I are…we’re working things out.”

  “Congratulations! Well, if we’ve got anything to thank Andy Hepburn for, it’s that we’re much better in the sack than we used to be. I’m sure Jerry appreciates that as much as Peter.” Kelly gazed down the hill, where Peter was talking to Matthew and Lorna Connaught. As she waved to them, she murmured, “As for me, I’ve picked up a new hobby that has nothing to do with men, but it’s just as big of a turn-on.” She pointed her index finger at Kimberley and went, “Pow!” Then she pretended to blow on it. “I now go to the shooting range every week. It’s a blast. Do you know what it’s like to hold a hot hard object between your hands?” She raised a brow. “And I don’t mean your vibrator.”

  Kimberley laughed nervously. “To be honest, I’ve never shot a gun.”

  “A virgin! Good! Trust me, this will be fun.” Kelly put an arm around her. “We’ll leave after meet-up one day and go to the firing range.”

  “But—I’ll have to line up a babysitter—”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that. You can share mine. She won’t mind—if she wants to keep her job.”

  Kelly tightened her grip on Kimberley. She knew she’d get what she wanted out of her frenemy when Kimberley asked, “What kind of guns will we be using?”

  * * *

  Friday, 17 April

  2:55 p.m.

  “Signed, sealed, and delivered,” Brady hooted.

  However, his attempt to high-five Bettina was met with a frigid scowl.

  “Yeah, okay,” he muttered. “I take it that something is still bothering you.”

  Bettina shrugged. “You could say that. Why the hell did it take so long?”

  “You know, Bettina, we aren’t living in Dickensian times,” he reminded her. “Tracking indigents in this century isn’t considered politically correct. AOZ wanted to cross all the T’s and dot all the I’s, especially when it came to public opinion. Heck, AOZ conducted three different surveys in order to address the bleeding-heart concerns of our key demographic.” He threw up his hands. “This past few weeks, while you were wooing back the members of your mommy club, I’ve kept the plates spinning all on my own. Do you know how many times I went back to the drawing board in order to accommodate AOZ’s concerns? Not to mention the number of hours it took Frick and Frack to zap the app’s bugs—”

  Bettina snapped her fingers in his face. “You’re blathering, Brady. Cut to the chase. I’ve bitten my nails to the quick—not that it matters, since I can’t afford to go to a nail salon anymore.” She held up her hands as proof. “So, how much are we getting, and when do we get it?”

  “We’ve got a pretty large runway. The initial funding is a hundred million. The first third is being wired into our corporate account as we speak.”

  She nodded nonchalantly. “And how much of that is mine?”

  “Besides a pretty large chunk of preferred stock, we’ll pay ourselves modest salaries at first—say, a million each—”

  Her ecstatic squeal was so loud that it woke Oliver and Zoe, who had been napping in their rooms upstairs.

  Their cries, in stereo, drowned out Bettina’s cackle. Exasperated, she exclaimed, “Why doesn’t Ally see to the children?”

  “Because Ally isn’t here,” Brady retorted. “She’s working out of her townhouse today with…her new venture partner.”

  He yelled up the staircase, “Hey! You two—back to sleep, or we won’t walk to the park to see the turtles!”

  Silence.

  Not Bettina. Her interest piqued, she persisted, “Oh? And who is this mystery man?”

  “His name is Garrett Hartley. And if your next question is how much he’s in for, it’s not a penny more than you’ve gotten.” Brady shrugged. “Frankly, she should have held out for twice that.”

  “Ally accepted the offer? I thought you were brokering the deal.”

  “I was…sort of. She took over at the VC’s request.”

  Bettina snickered. “I never had you pegged as the jealous type.”

  “If I’m competing with Garrett, I’ll lose.” Brady winced. “He’s…her father.”

  Bettina shrugged. “Well, you’re right there.”

  His lip curled into a grimace. “Your confidence in me is underwhelming.”

  “My remark wasn’t a reflection of that. Most women have daddy issues, especially someone with her drive and track record.” Bettina winked. “Not to worry. She may have him on a pedestal now, but even fathers have clay feet.”

  She grabbed her coat with one hand, and Nathaniel’s carrier with the other.

  “Where are you going?” Brady asked.

  “Now that I’m back on top of the world, I’m off to check out a penthouse apartment! A mil will make a decent down payment.”

  Despite his tepid smile, his eyes were sad.

  She patted his arm sympathetically. “Hang in there Brady. Money is the greatest aphrodisiac.”

  He knew there was a compliment in there somewhere. But with the kids rustling, he was too busy to find it.

  * * *

  7:44 p.m.

  “So, what do you think, Brady? Is Ally a chip off the old block?” Leaning back in his chair, Garrett took a sip from his brandy snifter.

  Zelda broke into a fit of giggles. “Talk about fishing for compliments!” She motioned their waiter for yet another vodka rocks.

  Ally resisted the urge to glance over at Brady. If Garrett’s question made him wince or frown, it would dismay her. What she hadn’t counted on was her ability to read the nuance in his voice as if it were some sort of emotional Braille.

  His response—“She never fails to amaze me”— was pleasant enough. And yet, each word pricked at her conscience. He had aptly avoided answering Garrett head-on. And while it was an obvious compliment, he said it with such fervent sincerity that she almost wanted to cry out, You amaze me, too! So why are you letting this man stand in our way?

  Had she asked, she knew how Brady would answer her: Who are you kidding? You’re the one who is letting him.

  She was now drunk enough to admit to herself he was right. She’d done it for all the right reasons: one hundred million of them.

  The moment that she, Jillian, and Brady had signed on the dotted line, it seemed that Garrett had done everything he could to convince her that they’d done the right thing. It was his suggestion that she and he schedule a daily conference call to discuss the fine details that came with expanding from one store to a national chain. Invariably, he’d compliment her marketing vision, or suggest a tweak that opened her eyes to new possibilities.

  Soon, their talks became the highlight of her day.

  And she had to admit: having someone so respected in the financial arena at her beck and call was exhilarating.

  She used to feel the same thrill when she and Brady worked this closely
.

  Nowadays, Brady and she barely talked at all. And whenever she mentioned Garrett, his eyes glazed over.

  It hurt that he still refused to discuss his top-secret project with her.

  Ally found it easier to work at her townhouse, where Brady couldn’t hear her when she laughed at Garrett’s jokes.

  And where she couldn’t see the sadness in his eyes when they passed each other in the hall.

  When she was home, Brady seemed to watch her closely—

  With his sad, sad eyes.

  Needless to say, she was the first to glance away.

  Is he looking at me now?

  If so, she didn’t want to acknowledge it. It would hurt too much.

  No better time to make small talk with Zelda, she thought.

  But when she looked across the table, she found the younger woman looking at Brady.

  Zelda’s plump lips were parted by the tip of her tongue. When she winked seductively at Brady, Ally followed her gaze.

  Yes, she’d caught Brady’s eye. Would he wink back?

  He didn’t—but he smiled.

  Garrett had noticed too.

  Brady did nothing to deflect Garrett’s scowl. If anything, he egged it on when he said, “I hear Zelda likes tennis. Maybe we should arrange a foursome.”

  Zelda laughed uproariously.

  She was the only one.

  “A foursome? Really, Brady?” Ally contained her anger until they were in the car and halfway home.

  Brady shrugged. “I was just trying to make conversation.”

  “No, you weren’t! You were trying to get under Garrett’s skin!”

  “It seems as if I got under yours too,” he retorted.

  “Of course you did! You’re playing footsie with the wife of our investor!”

  He grinned. “Oh—you saw that?”

  “What? You mean, she had her feet all over you under the table?” Ally shook with fury.

  “Don’t be silly,” he replied. “Remember Garrett is her meal ticket too.”

  “I think Garrett was right to suggest you bow out. The two of you are like oil and water.”

  “And the two of you are like…well, I can’t say father and daughter. But deep down inside, it’s what you’d want. Admit it, Ally.”

  “I told you what I wanted from him: an investment in us. And I got it! Why can’t you admit I was right?” She choked on her words.

  “Why? Because he hasn’t yet proven me wrong!” Brady stopped the car.

  As he opened his door, Ally looked around. She was surprised to find them parked in front of their home. Somehow, they made it home in one piece.

  The only thing broken was her heart.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Friday, 24 April

  10:10 a.m.

  The summons notifying Jillian that Judge Marsh was ready to give her findings on the case had arrived on Monday. Thank goodness, Jillian had made sure the girls were napping before opening the mail.

  “You’ll have to go to meet-up with the girls,” Jillian pointed out to Caleb.

  He grinned wickedly. “Ever ready.”

  For once, she couldn’t smile at his joke.

  When Jillian arrived in the courtroom on Friday, Barry was already there, as were Rona and her attorney. She had Scotty dressed in a little suit. His baby bag was filled with formula bottles a few jars of food, and a teething ring, in case his new tooth irritated him. This time, she wore slacks and a jacket, both black. The blouse she wore with it was a dark burgundy—better to hide any spittle, should Scotty be so inclined.

  Jeffrey was nowhere to be seen.

  Of course not, Jillian reasoned. He wouldn’t dare show his face. He’d be too afraid that I’d tell the court about his offer.

  If she were to be honest with herself, she was relieved he’d stayed away. As of yet, she hadn’t mentioned it to Barry because she was ashamed she’d even considered it.

  All rose when Judge Marsh came into the courtroom.

  She nodded at Jillian. “I see that your fiancé couldn’t make it,” she said.

  Jillian stammered, “He’s with the girls at their mommy meet-up.” Suddenly, she was ashamed of the term.

  I’m a bad mommy, she thought.

  To Rona, the judge said, “It’s good to see Jeffrey as well.”

  Jeffrey…here? Where?

  Jillian stifled the instinct to turn around and look as the judge stated, “Thank you for your patience, and the courtesy for allowing me to visit your homes and your families in order to watch Scotty.” Her words were generous, but her tone was clipped. “Because Scotty is so young and this decision is one that will affect him for the rest of his life, I felt it best to take my time in considering both of these generous and heartfelt offers for his wardship.” She shook her head sadly. “To be honest, neither of you present the perfect scenario. That was taken from Scotty on that incredibly sad day of his parents’ deaths. And no matter how much you love him, their love had no equal.” She turned to Rona. “Maybe half of those in their mid-sixties and beyond will live to their grandchild’s eighteenth birthday. Should they do so, the task of raising the child is still an arduous endeavor. While the child is young, physical stamina is important. As the child matures, the ability to connect both emotionally and intellectually is just as important as the nurturing he needs today.”

  Concerned, Rona pursed her lips. Unlike last time, though, she kept her mouth shut.

  “On the other hand, the fact that Jeffrey makes his home with you is a plus. He adds the needed masculine counterbalance. He has a calming presence. His ability to feed, clothe, and bathe the child seemed like second nature to him. He is lucky to have the luxury of working out of his home—and money seems to be no object.”

  Rona attempted a smile.

  Judge Marsh’s gaze then shifted to Jillian. “I admire women who meet life’s challenges head on. Despite your modest background, you worked to get a degree. Your marriage to Scott may have sidetracked you, but your financial support of him at that time gave him the credentials that put him in his chosen field. Your divorce settlement was hard-fought. Unlike some stay-at-home mothers in the same situation, you did not wait until its outcome to support yourself and your daughters—who are also Scott’s daughters.”

  Rona flinched at the judge’s implication.

  “You have a very full life, Jillian. Besides your two daughters, you have a growing and successful business, and a pending marriage to a man who has upended his world to be part of yours.” Judge Marsh paused. “All of this works in your favor—and against you.”

  Oh, no, Jillian thought. Where is this going?

  “I entered a very lively household—but one that was also chaotic. That happens with three children underfoot.” The judge shrugged. “But there were also three adults in the house. While you and your store manager were conducting a business meeting, two of the children were being supervised by a man who was already overwhelmed with that task while also getting himself ready for work. It didn’t help that they were ill at the time.”

  Jillian stuttered, “Judge, I can explain—”

  The judge raised her hand to silence her. “You were in the same room as Scotty, but you left it to your employee to diaper him—something she was incapable of doing correctly.”

  “But…the pies…”

  “Yes, the pies,” Judge Marsh murmured. “I hope they came out to your liking.” She paused. “Mrs. Frederick Senior will provide a calm that will allow the infant Scotty to thrive. On the weekends, he will enjoy the camaraderie of his half-siblings—alternately at your home and that of his grandmother, where, I’m sure, she’ll be looking forward to hosting your daughters too. Would you agree to that, Mrs. Frederick Senior?”

  “Yes.” Rona’s voice was so low that the judge had to lean forward to hear it.

  Jillian felt as if she’d been kicked in the gut. Barry put his arm around her shoulder to help her stay upright.

  “My written decree will be sent to
both of you within the week.” Judge Marsh rose.

  “Your Honor,” Barry exclaimed, “However, should circumstances change for either party—”

  “It does, and often,” she assured him. “Should the parties mutually agree on a different solution, my court will always be open to hearing a mutually agreed alternative.”

  Jillian sat stunned as Rona’s attorney made her way over. She lifted Scotty’s portable car seat. “The bag is mine to take as well, right?”

  Jillian nodded numbly.

  She waited until the courtroom was vacated before allowing the tears to fall.

  Barry leaned into Jillian. “My detective has had Rona’s house under surveillance for the past four weeks. I swear, Jillian—Jeff never set foot in it!”

  “Barry, I have a confession.” Shamed, she lowered her head. “Jeff found me on the playground. He offered to ‘disappear’ if I was willing to pay him.”

  Flabbergasted, Barry murmured, “You didn’t say yes, did you?”

  “No. In fact, I didn’t say anything at all— except if I were interested, I’d call him. I had him put his number in here.” She pointed to her cell phone.

  “Good.” Barry scribbled it down.

  “Why do you need it?” she asked.

  “I’ll have our people trace his whereabouts. It should tell us a lot about what he’s been up to.”

  “Enough to get the judge to reconsider her decision?”

  “One can hope.” He shrugged. “In the meantime, Jillian, go on living your life.”

  She nodded, but in truth, without Scotty, it would never be the same.

  I’m not giving up on him, she vowed. If buying Jeff off is what it takes, then so be it. With what I’m making now with Life of Pie, money is no object.

  She walked out of the courtroom as quickly as she could.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Friday, 8 May