She didn’t hear anything behind her, and once she had the door open and was inside, she turned and found Brad right where she’d left him. He stood in the middle of the front yard, glaring at the house.
Harper closed the door and threw the deadbolt before twisting the lock in the knob. Dropping her head forward to rest against the door, she took a slow, deep breath and released it on a sigh.
It took two more breaths before she felt strong enough to straighten again.
What the hell was she to do now? Why would Brad turn up now, just as success had finally found her?
“Harper? You okay?” Foster’s deep rumbly voice sounded concerned as it wrapped around her in a way that brought tears to her eyes.
Turning, she threw herself across the foyer and into his arms. He automatically embraced her though he remained as stiff and straight as a telephone pole instead of fully engulfing her in a hug as he had before.
“No, I’m not all right,” she admitted softly.
Her emotions exploded and spilled out of her eyes in a rush. Foster didn’t say a word, he simply held her as quiet tears soon became a noisy sobbing until all the vile emotions associated with Brad Ellis showing back up in her life had been washed away.
When her emotions finally settled, she lifted her head from his chest and looked up at Foster. “Thank you,” she said simply.
“I’d say anytime, except I’ll be leaving after dinner,” he said as he looked over her head.
Turning her head, she saw Miranda was awake and watching with wide eyes.
“Mr. Mafe? Why are you leaving? Where will you go?” the little girl asked as she scrambled off the couch and raced toward them. She wrapped herself around Foster’s legs and began to cry. “You can’t go. I love you. We haven’t taken over the world yet.”
“I’m sorry, Empress, but I can’t stay here any longer,” Foster said, patting the little girl’s head before gently pulling her arms from around him.
“But,” Harper said, not sure how to stop the man from abandoning them.
She took a step back when Foster straightened and looked at her, his pale-blue eyes like chips of ice. “I don’t mess around with married women.”
Putting Miranda’s hands in hers, he stalked away, disappearing into the kitchen.
“Mommy, you gotta stop him,” Miranda said before burying her head in Harper’s belly and crying some more. “I don’t want him to go away.”
“I don’t want him to go either,” Harper said as she tried to console her daughter, who just cried harder.
When Miranda’s tears eventually slowed, Harper gave her a hug and eased away. “I need you to go up to your room while I talk with Foster, okay?”
Miranda sniffled and nodded. “Okay, but you gotta talk him into staying.”
“I’ll do my best,” Harper said.
Taking a deep breath, Harper prepared herself for battle. Then she slowly walked through the kitchen, stopping at the open door to Foster’s room.
“I’m not married,” she said after planting her feet shoulder-width apart and her hands on her hips.
Foster looked up from where he was tossing clothes into his duffel. “He said he was your husband.”
“He lied. He walked out on me the night Miranda was born and divorced me six months later. I’m not sure what he wants, but he’s not going to get it. I’m a good mother who provides for my child with absolutely no help from him. Would you like to see the divorce papers?”
****
Foster stopped packing and looked at the woman he’d come to love, not only for her body and her child, but for her intelligence, her business sense, and every other thing he could think of. She was perfect.
Though initially stunned by her ex’s statements, Foster took a moment to scold himself before answering her. “No, that’s not necessary. But honey, I’ve got to tell you that your ex is a douchecanoe and I decided that after talking him for only a couple of minutes.”
Harper smiled at him. “Yes, he is, and he’s gotten worse since I met and married him. Now, in better news, the bride loved her dress and not only paid me the balance due, but she also added a healthy bonus, so I thought we should go out for dinner to celebrate.”
“Give me ten minutes to unpack and change my shirt.”
“Take your time. I want to change and get Miranda into shoes and maybe a different outfit as well.”
As she turned away, Foster said, “Hey, Harper?”
“Yes?” She looked at him over her shoulder.
“Congratulations on the dress.”
“Thanks,” she said with an easy grin before walking away. “We’ll meet you in the foyer in ten.”
****
A police car was parked in front of the house when they returned several hours later after a stop at the grocery store after dinner. While Harper took Miranda and several bags into the house, Foster stepped into the role of guard dog and headed to the curb.
“Hello. Can I help you officers?” he asked politely as the two uniformed men climbed out of the marked car.
“Are you Foster Michaels?”
“Yes,” Foster said, a cold shiver racing down his spine.
“Mr. Michaels, we have a complaint filed against you for aggravated assault. Please place your hands on the top of the car.”
Foster knew better than to argue with the police, but there was no way he would leave his women unprotected. Her ex had now taken being a douchecanoe to stratospheric levels by involving the police in what should be a private matter.
“I’ll cooperate, but first I need to go to the house and tell Harper what’s going on,” he said, remaining still with his hands open and relaxed at his sides. “One of you can go with me, but I can’t just disappear on them.”
The two officers exchanged a glance before the older one said, “Officer Hayes will bring her out here.”
Foster nodded his agreement and allowed Sergeant Williams to pat him down while they waited for Harper to appear. It took a moment before she appeared in the doorway, and after talking to Officer Hayes for a moment, Harper flew down the stairs and across the yard.
“You can’t arrest him. He didn’t do anything,” she said, sounding panicked.
Sergeant Williams pulled a clipboard out from the front seat. “According to the warrant, Foster Michaels assaulted Brad Ellis, resulting in bruised ribs, a possibly broken cheekbone, and other injuries. Mr. Ellis has pressed charges for aggravated assault. We have to take Mr. Michaels in and process him. He’ll be arraigned in the morning.”
“But…”
Though he could see Harper wanted to continue arguing, Foster knew it would do no good. He had hit the man, and though he tried to pull the punch, he had knocked the man unconscious. It was time to stop this.
“Harper, go back inside and take care of Miranda. I’ll be fine. I’ll call you tomorrow when it’s over.” Leaning down, he brushed a kiss on her lips and then whispered, “Remember that I love you.”
Harper frowned but nodded. “Love you, too. Don’t be a hero, I’ll figure a way to get you out of this.”
Foster smiled at her. “I know. Go take care of the fairy princess so she doesn’t see me being taken away in handcuffs.”
Harper turned and saw what he did. Miranda stood just inside the open front door, looking confused as she watched the drama unfolding on the front lawn.
Foster watched as she hurried back to her daughter. He returned Miranda’s wave before Harper closed the door and she could no longer see what was going on. Only then did he turn to Sergeant Williams. “Okay, we can go now.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Mommy, are the police taking Mr. Mafe away? Why? Was he bad?” Miranda asked as soon as Harper closed the door.
“There’s been a misunderstanding, sweetie.” Harper picked her daughter up and hugged her tight as she headed to the living room. “Why don’t you go watch television while Mommy makes a few calls, okay?”
After settling Miranda in front of
the television, Harper carried her cell phone to Foster’s room behind the kitchen and pushed the door almost closed. Having never needed a lawyer before, she called Brenna, who answered on the first ring.
“Why did the cops just drive off with Foster in handcuffs? Did we screw up in hiring him? Is he secretly a serial killer or something?” Brenna asked as soon as she answered. “And who was sleeping on your front lawn earlier?”
If there had been a neighborhood watch, Brenna would be its leader. Harper never worried about her house when she had to be away because Brenna had been keeping tabs on her for years. Even before she moved into her parents’ house, her best friend somehow knew what was going on in her life.
“Brad had him arrested,” Harper said as she sat on the side of Foster’s bed,
Needing a bit of comfort, she pulled his pillow close and hugged it to her chest. Dropping her head to bury it in the cotton covering, she breathed deep of his scent that lingered on the pillowcase. She sighed as the muscles in her shoulders untied themselves and the rest of her body slowly relaxed.
“Brad? Slimeball, walk-out-while-my-wife’s-in-the-hospital, ex-husband Brad? The asshole who then divorced you and has been AWOL for the last five-plus years?”
“Yep, that’s the one. Apparently, he showed up while I was delivering the wedding dress. When I got home, I found him unconscious on the front lawn. I have a feeling he baited Foster until he reacted and knocked his ass out. Brad is pressing aggravated assault charges, which is why the police took Foster away in handcuffs.”
“Well, that sucks. Do you want me to send John to go get him out?” Brenna’s husband was an attorney and wrapped tightly around his wife’s little finger.
“Could he at least go talk to Foster? I don’t know the whole story, but I’m sure Brad started this whole thing.”
“Why was Brad there to begin with?” Brenna asked.
Harper fell to her side and curled around Foster’s pillow, hugging it close as tears filled her eyes. “He said, and I quote, I want my kid, unquote. He also said something about wanting me back so he could quote, help run the company, unquote.”
Brenna muttered a string of vivid, creative curses that contained no four-letter words, which made Harper smile. “He must have heard about the billionaire bride and realized what I’ve been telling you all along, that Harper Ellis Designs is about to catapult into major success. So, what are you going to do about this?”
“First, I’m going to get Foster out of jail. Once he’s home and safe, I’ll deal with Brad, though I’m not sure how since he’s right. We didn’t specify custody for Miranda in the divorce agreement.” Harper wiped her eyes and tried hard to pull her unraveling emotions together to tie them in a knot.
Though the big commission was finished, she still had dresses to make, orders to fill, and new stuffed animals to design. As he’d been years ago, Brad was becoming a distraction from what she really wanted, in this case, Foster home and safe and her business growing and succeeding.
“All right. You go have a glass of wine and take care of the fairy princess. I’ll send John to go talk with Foster and the cops and I’ll let you know what he finds out,” Brenna said.
“Thanks, Brenna.”
Harper hung up and then hugged the pillow for another minute before laying it back on the bed. Climbing from the bed, she left Foster’s room and joined Miranda in the living room. As soon as she appeared, Miranda crawled in her lap and cuddled close.
“I miss Mr. Mafe,” Miranda said as she hugged Henry close.
“He’ll be home soon,” Harper said, hoping her words were prophetic and not just a meaningless platitude.
****
Foster ran his fingers through his hair then smoothed his shirt in an attempt to wipe the wrinkles out of it just before stepping into the courtroom. The jail hadn’t had clothes in his size, so he had been forced to sleep in his clothes. Looking around the courtroom where his hearing would be held, he was only mildly surprised to see Harper sitting in the front row of spectator seating.
She looked good, put together, and pissed as she stared across the courtroom at the small man who had started this insanity. Brad’s bruises looked more colorful today, and he projected confidence as he met Harper’s glare.
Taking his seat with the other overnight guests of the city, Foster tried to wish time to speed up so he could be done and out of this place. Memories and flashbacks kept him from sleeping as he sat in his too-small cell listening to a drunk sing and a young boy cry for his mother from around the cellblock. Now all he wanted was to go home with Harper, take a shower and a nap, and resume his duties as the Ellis family mafe.
When his case was called several hours later, Foster was more than ready to stand and move to his place beside John Walker in front of the judge. He met Harper’s deep brown eyes and couldn’t help but smile. She looked more nervous than he felt, and he wasn’t sure if that was because of her feelings for him, or if she didn’t want to find someone to take his place as the mafe.
John’s elbow into his ribs had him turning and facing the judge, an older woman who didn’t look like she would allow any nonsense in her courtroom. The nameplate front of her read Judge Sandra Little.
“Now, Mr. Michaels, it says here that you assaulted Mr. Ellis with the intention of doing serious bodily harm,” the judge read from the folder in front of her. “Do you plead guilty or not guilty?”
“Not guilty, Your Honor, though I did hit the man. Once.” Though John had advised him to only answer the questions short and sweet, he decided he needed to stop this insanity before it got too out of hand and he spent more time behind bars. “I would hardly call a single punch, in response to repeated insults and Mr. Ellis throwing the first punch, aggravated assault. I was merely defending myself.”
“Oh, really?” the judge glanced from Foster to Brad who sat across the aisle at the prosecutor’s table and then back again.
“Yes, Your Honor. You see, big men are like big dogs. Feed us, rub our bellies, love on us, and we’re happy. Despite my military service, I’m not a fighter. Not like little dogs, or little men are. It’s the yappy little men who start bar fights, street brawls, or nuisance lawsuits. Big men look at those guys and go, ‘aww, aren’t you cute?’ But, when I am attacked, I do try to end fights as quickly and expeditiously as possible. Which, in this case, meant a single punch to Mr. Ellis’s face.”
Judge Little looked stunned as she likely thought about Foster’s words. A moment later, she began to chuckle as she wrote in the open folder. “Very accurate description, Mr. Foster. I have a Great Dane and a Chihuahua and you described their personalities perfectly. Case dismissed. You are free to go, but I would recommend you avoid crossing paths with yippy little men in the future.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Foster agreed with a smile.
And with the bang of her gavel, Foster was free to go.
After signing paperwork with the clerk, he followed John out the side door of the courtroom to find Harper waiting in the hall. As soon as the courtroom door closed behind him, he had an armful of warm, sweet-smelling, crying woman.
“I’m so sorry,” she said over and over. “Are you all right? You look tired. Are you hungry? Let’s go home.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t have me arrested. I’m fine, but I didn’t sleep well. And I am hungry, so yes, let’s go home.”
After hugging his woman and giving her a short kiss to assure him that he was alive and well, Foster turned to the man who stood watching with a bemused grin on his face. “Thanks, for everything, John.”
“You’re welcome.” John shook his hand. “Maybe we can get together this weekend. It’s been too long since we’ve had Harper and Miranda over for a cookout, and I can warn you against the craziness the women can get into.”
Foster smiled and nodded as he took Harper’s hand and laced their fingers together. “Sounds like a plan.”
Though he hoped they could get away without anothe
r interaction with Brad, the man was standing on the courthouse steps as if waiting for them. He looked as smarmy as he had the day before, which did nothing to ease the tension that ratcheted up in Foster’s belly.
“I still want my kid,” he said as Foster and Harper walked past.
When he would have continued on without speaking to the asshole, Harper stopped. “Never. And you’ll never get half my business. My business. The one I started two years after you walked out and abandoned us on the night your daughter was born. Go away, Brad. There is absolutely nothing here for you.”
Foster watched as Brad glanced around wide-eyed, as several people had turned to watch them. “You haven’t heard the last of me. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer, bitch.” When Foster frowned and took a step in his direction, Brad turned on his heel and hurried away.
Turning to look up at him, Harper grinned. “Let’s go home. Miranda was talking about having a rainbow dinner, if you came home.”
Foster chuckled as they headed down the stairs and toward his SUV parked in the lot across the street. “I can do a rainbow dinner, though we might have to stop at the grocery store first,” he said as he ran through colors and foods that were in the pantry.
“I love you,” Harper said as she handed him the keys and he opened the passenger door for her.
“I love you, more. Thank you for coming to court today,” he said with a grin. “Where’s Miranda?”
“Brenna’s watching her.”
Foster’s smile changed from a relieved man who wasn’t facing jailtime, to a man who wanted to spend some naked time with his woman. “Call her and ask her if she can keep her until dinnertime. I’d like to spend the afternoon celebrating freedom with my woman.”
Harper pulled her phone out and was already dialing before he finished his request. But first, they had to stop at the store for blue and purple foods.
Help Wanted: Mafe Page 8
