by Elise Sax
Chapter 14
Olivia
“I’m so sorry, Olivia,” Lillian says. She’s been crying, and she dabs at her eyes with a tissue. “It’s my fault.”
“So, you snagged a billionaire, huh?” my husband sneers. “Well, I’m going to get my share.”
“There’s no share,” I say. “I don’t have any money. You left me with a stack of bills and four kids under five years old. I moved in with my mother.”
“That was then. This is now,” my husband says.
Rock is standing stock still. He seems calm, but he’s clenching his fists by his sides so tightly that his knuckles are white.
“Where are the children?” I ask.
“They’re playing in their room,” my mother says. “Mr. Jerkface here hasn’t even asked to see them.”
“Shut up, old woman,” my husband spits. “Don’t worry about me and the kids.” He points at me, stabbing the air like he’s punctuating his words. “But if I don’t get my money, I’m going to take the damned kids. I’m going to get custody.”
“Nobody would give your worthless ass the children!” my mother yells. “You abandoned them. You disappeared with that young floozy.”
“Farrah Robbins is a nice girl, and she’s got a lawyer friend who tells me that I got a shot at custody if Olivia doesn’t pay up. And even if I don’t have a shot, I can tie it up in the courts for years and make things real hard for you, Olivia.”
It’s like the air in the room has been sucked out. Nobody’s saying anything, but there’s so much animosity that I’m surprised that my husband doesn’t drop dead from it. I’m worried that someone’s going to kill him, and then I’ll go to jail for it and never see my children or Rock again.
Not that Rock is ever going to talk to me again. There’s no way a man would want to be involved with a woman who’s married to a man who wants to fleece him for the rest of his life. Baggage is one thing, but this is definitely a deal breaker.
“Everyone stay calm,” I say. “This will all get worked out, I’m sure. He doesn’t mean it.”
Something in me is sure that my husband will never get full custody. But there’s a good chance that he can get partial custody and destroy my children’s lives. Or he could keep me fighting him in court for years, like he said. That I believe.
I think about my children living with him and his floozy girlfriend, and I fall apart. My poor, beautiful children. They were so close to having perfect lives, living in Idaho with a wonderful man who would teach them to ride and catch a baseball. And now they’re going to be neglected and possibly abused by a horrible man who doesn’t care a thing about them but only wants to squeeze out cash from whoever he can.
“Everyone stay calm,” I repeat. “Just! Stay! Calm!”
I’m not calm. I leap at my jerkface husband and try to claw his eyes out. “You’re not going to touch my children!” I scream at the top of my lungs, while I grab onto his head and try to turn it around.
“Get her off me!” he yells.
I keep clawing and punching. Nothing is going to get me to stop. I’m out for blood. I won’t let anyone threaten my children. I won’t let anyone threaten my happiness. Those days are over. I’m a new woman. Powerful. In command.
I try to poke his eyes out, but he ducks out of the way.
“Stand still!” I shout at him.
Like magic, I fly up in the air, off of my husband. It takes me a second to realize that Rock has lifted me off him and is holding me back.
“We’ll be in touch,” Rock tells my husband, his voice icy. I’ve never heard him sound like this before. “Where are you staying?”
My husband tells Rock where he’s staying and gives him a twelve-hour ultimatum for the money. “One-point-two million dollars, and don’t tell me you’re not good for it. I looked you up.”
And then he leaves. For a moment, everyone’s quiet in the kitchen. Then, everyone starts talking at once.
“It was the stupid background check,” Lillian cries. “They found him and asked about you, Olivia, and that’s how he found out.”
“He would have found out anyway,” I tell her. “I’ve been trying to find him to divorce him and get child support.”
“We could poison him like we poisoned Olivia,” Bessie suggests. “But we’d have to give him a much bigger dose.”
“Or shoot him,” my mother suggests. “There’s all kinds of guns around here. We could use one of them.”
“Nobody’s going to poison or shoot him,” Rock says. “I’m going to handle it.”
“We look ridiculous,” I say.
“Speak for yourself,” Bessie says. “I look hot.”
Lillian nods. “You look fabulous, Bessie. You really do look good in black.”
“You think so? I always figured me for a pink kind of girl, but maybe I should wear more black,” Bessie says.
My mother and Bill are taking care of the children, while Bessie, Lillian, Beatrice, and I are being bossed around by Rosalind. Rock disappeared after my husband left, and I haven’t heard from him since. I’m on the verge of totally losing it, but Rosalind is forcing me to keep moving.
So, she’s dressed us like ninjas.
“I repeat, we look ridiculous,” I say.
“Ditto,” Beatrice says. “And I have a cast, too, so I look doubly ridiculous.”
“Don’t you think I know that we look ridiculous?” Rosalind asks in her imperious tone. “I’m dressed as a ninja. Chanel doesn’t make ninja suits, you know. But this is what we’re doing.”
Bessie nods. “We’re ninjaing.”
“I’ve got the Taser,” Lillian announces, holding it up.
“I’ve got the reconnaissance equipment,” Bessie says, holding a black duffel bag.
“I’ve got nunchucks, but I don’t know how to use them,” Beatrice says.
“Listen up, ladies,” Rosalind says. Even in a ninja suit, she commands respect. “This isn’t about Operation Billionaire. This is about saving Olivia’s children. You’ve all got your instructions. This mission shall not fail.”
Lillian salutes her.
“And Bessie,” Rosalind adds. “You’re not allowed to shoot him.”
“Darn it,” Bessie says and digs a gun out of her duffel bag and hands it over to Rosalind.
Rosalind puts the gun down and sticks her hand out. “Put your hands in, women of Operation Billionaire.” We all put our hands on top of Rosalind’s. “What we’re about to do is for Olivia. What we’re about to do is for her millions of kids. What we’re about to do is for all the women in the world who have been screwed over by men.”
“This is like a revival,” Bessie says. “But there’s nothing to eat.”
“I’ve never had this much fun,” Lillian says. “This is so much better than my canasta group.”
My husband is staying in a fleabag motel outside of town. It’s shaped in a square with a small courtyard in the middle and all of the entrances to the rooms are accessed from outside. Lillian slips the guy at the front desk a hundred dollar bill to give us a room facing my husband’s room. The guy at the front desk doesn’t mention anything about our ninja costumes.
We set up in the room. Bessie points a large parabolic microphone at my husband’s room and attaches it to a small speaker. We can hear everything in his room, which right now is just a boxing match on the television.
“We need eyes on the situation,” Rosalind orders.
“On it, sir,” Lillian says and sets up a kind of telescope that attaches to a video monitor. Rosalind pushes a button, and the monitor comes to life, showing us my husband lying in bed, watching television.
“He’s not bad-looking,” Bessie says. “But his underpants are dingy.”
“He’s dingy all around,” I say. “How long do we have to wait, Rosalind?”
“We’re trying to get something incriminating. Hopefully, it won’t take long. Let’s give it an hour. If we don’t get anything, you’ll go in, Olivia, and dig it ou
t of him. One way or another, by the time we go to sleep tonight, we’ll have proof that your husband is a lying, blackmailing bastard.”
“I brought snacks,” Beatrice says. “Anyone want a barbecue potato chip?”
We all raise our hands except for Rosalind.
Bessie and I take turns holding the parabolic. After forty five minutes, we’re no closer to getting incriminating information. My husband has only laid in bed, watching television. We’re about to implement the backup plan when there’s a knock at my husband’s door, and Rock walks into his room, holding a large briefcase.
“Oh my gosh,” Lillian says. “The plot thickens.”
“What’s he doing?” I ask.
“It looks like he’s bringing your husband one-point-two million dollars in a briefcase so that he’ll take a hike,” Rosalind says.
“He’s such a good boy,” Lillian says.
“He’s very romantic,” Beatrice notes, patting my back. “A real keeper.”
Tears roll down my face. “He’s doing that for me? I can’t let him. I have to stop him.”
Bessie shushes me. “Be quiet. It’s getting good over there.”
Beatrice turns up the speaker, and we listen in.
“Is this all of it?” my husband asks Rock. He sounds shocked as hell that Rock brought the money, and it makes me think that my husband was bluffing all along.
“That’s all of it,” Rock says. He’s using his icy, serious voice again. He’s madder than spitfire.
“I need to stop him,” I say, but Bessie shushes me, again.
“You can’t stop Rock,” Lillian tells me. “He’s got his mind set. And you’re worth it.”
“Just to be clear, you’re going to sign over custody to Olivia,” Rock says, slapping papers down on a table. He clicks a pen and hands it to my husband.
“Sure. Sure.”
“You never wanted the kids in the first place, did you?” Rock asks him.
“Are you kidding? Those runts are quicksand. I don’t need my life ruined like that. I have plans. I got a real hot girl, now. Farrah Robbins. When she takes the pill, it works.”
“What a dick,” Lillian says.
“I want to kick him with my cast,” Beatrice says.
“Hold on a second,” I say, turning down the speaker. “Farrah Robbins. I know why that name has sounded familiar to me all this time. Let me double check.”
I open the browser on my phone and do some research. It only takes a few seconds. I make a quick phone call, and I hang up.
“Come on, Operation Billionaire, let’s crash the party before it’s too late,” I say, and we all run out of our motel room with me leading the group. A minute later, we’re bursting through the door of my husband’s motel room.
“What the hell?” he demands at the four ninjas breaking into his room.
I pull off my ninja mask. “Bessie, grab the money,” I order. She scoops up the briefcase.
“Olivia, you need to leave,” Rock says. “I’ve got this taken care of.”
“No, you don’t,” I say. “Giving him money won’t solve anything. He’ll never leave us alone.”
“But…” Rock says.
“She’s got a good idea,” Lillian tells him. “Listen to her.”
My husband takes a step toward me and pokes my chest. “Don’t ruin this for me, bitch,” he growls at me, getting in my face.
“Don’t you dare touch her,” Rock growls and punches my husband in the nose. There’s a loud crack when Rock’s knuckles hit bone.
My husband goes flying backward onto his bed. “You broke my nose,” he cries, with his hand on his face.
“I’ll break more than that if you ever touch her again!” Rock yells.
“Farrah Robbins,” I say to my husband. “The name sounded familiar to me. So, I did some research. Your new girlfriend is only seventeen. She’s underage.”
“Barely underage. She’s nearly eighteen,” my husband insists.
“I don’t think her father cares that she’s almost eighteen,” I say.
“What do I care about her father?” he sneers.
“Then, you don’t know,” I say. “He doesn’t know,” I tell my Operation Billionaire team.
“Moron,” Beatrice says.
“We don’t have a lot of time, so I’ll cut to the chase,” I continue. “Your underage girlfriend is Mack Robbins’ daughter. Mack Robbins, the concrete king.”
“The mobster?” my husband asks, aghast.
“The Godfather. Yes. And I’ve called him, and he’s on his way.”
“No!”
“Yes.”
“We were there for the call. It’s all true,” Rosalind tells him. It’s impossible not to believe Rosalind.
“He’ll kill me! He’ll torture me and kill me! Do you want that for the father of your children?”
I chew on my lower lip. No, I don’t want that. I can’t be responsible for the murder of my children’s father. What have I done?
“I’ll get you out of here,” Rock tells my husband, surprising me.
“What?”
“I’ll fly you out to wherever you want to go, and he won’t find you. And I’ll give you moving money,” Rock says.
My husband eyes the briefcase, and Bessie clutches it to her tight.
“No, not that much,” Rock says. “I’ll give you twenty-five grand in moving money and fly you out to the place of your choice.”
“Deal,” my husband says without giving it a moment’s thought.
Rock hands him the paperwork he brought. “And before we go, you sign the papers. All of them.”
My husband signs them, and Rock whisks him out of the room. As soon as they’re gone, the entire Operation Billionaire crew jumps up and down. “We did it!” Bessie cheers. “I can’t believe it. I didn’t have to shoot him.”
“You were amazing,” Lillian says, hugging me. “So brave. So strong.”
“I was, wasn’t I?” I say, surprised. “It’s easy to be brave when you’re loved. And when you have backup.”
“Our work here is done,” Rosalind says. “Let’s gather up the paperwork, our equipment, and get out of here before we all get bed bugs.”
I can’t wait to get home and tell my mother that the children are safe and that my husband signed the custody and divorce papers. When we get back to Lillian’s house, I rush in and break the news. When I get to the part about the papers, my mother breaks down in relieved tears and hugs me for a long time.
I kiss the children good night and go to bed, but I can’t sleep. I’m worried about Rock. He was quick to come to my rescue, but I don’t know where we stand. I don’t know if he’s turned off and no longer wants to marry me.
I toss and turn until just before sunrise when there’s a soft knock at my bedroom door. I open it to find Rock. He comes in and closes the door behind him.
“It’s all done,” he says. “Do you want to know where he asked to go?”
“I’m a little curious.”
“Greenland.”
“Greenland?”
“It was a bear getting him out of the country with no passport and into Greenland without a visa, but he’s in Greenland.”
“Why did he pick Greenland, I wonder,” I say.
“He was really spooked about the mob. He figured they wouldn’t chase him all the way to Greenland. I don’t think he’ll bother us again. I made it pretty clear that the well was dry where he was concerned.”
I leaned my head against his arm. “How about us? Is the well dry?”
He kisses the top of my head. “Never. I’m more determined now to make you my wife and live happily ever after.”
Tears roll down my cheek. “There’s something that I’ve been wanting to tell you.”
“Don’t tell me you have another husband out there.”
“No. I want to tell you that I love you. I didn’t tell you before because I think I had love PTSD, but you’ve cured me.”
“I have? By bangin
g you up against a door?”
“No, you cured me with love. True love. Soulmate forever love. I love you so much, Rock. And I know that I’ll love you forever.”
“I guess now is the perfect time for this,” he says reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a ring box. “I got it out of the vault before I came here. I hope you like it.”
He kneels down on the floor in front of me and opens the box. “My beautiful, sweet, tender, caring Olivia, would you give me the honor of letting me be your husband forever?”
I drop down to the floor. “It would be a dream come true,” I say, and he slips the beautiful ring on my finger.
We kiss for a moment, but I break it off when I have a terrible thought. “Rock!” I exclaim clutching at him. “I never ate the cobbler yesterday morning.”
“What?”
“I never ate the poisoned cobbler.”
“So, you did have the bug the doc was talking about,” Rock says.
“That was a made-up story. There was no bug going around.” We lock eyes. “I’m so sorry. I thought we would have more time.”
“What? What is it? You’re scaring me.”
“I’m afraid I know the reason I got sick. Brace yourself.”
Chapter 15
Olivia
Rosalind is the height of glamour in her designer, silk shorts and top with sky high heels. She’s perfectly made up, and she doesn’t have a hair out of place. She’s worked fast since she wore a ninja outfit only a week ago to plan for her trip to Bora Bora.
It’s been a whirlwind since my ex-husband flew off to Greenland and I slipped Rock’s grandmother’s ring on my finger. Rock and I have moved into the house he built, and my children are thriving. Sure, they no longer have the super duper, fancy shmancy preschool overlooking the ocean, but the local, little preschool is full of love, and they’ve made lots of friends. The kids also now have a large extended family, five dogs, and thousands of acres to play in. They’re growing up in paradise.
Rock and I have been pretty much naked all week long, and we broke our bed doing the missionary position, but Rock bought a new bed the next day, which is guaranteed to withstand all kinds of sex.
I’ve never been happier. Never. I’m high on love. I’m so high that it should be illegal, but I’m glad it’s not. And I owe it all to Operation Billionaire. So, I feel guilty that I’m not going to Bora Bora to help with Rosalind’s mission to catch billionaire Jackson Hardy, who’s the CEO of her company.
