Take It Off the Menu

by Hovland, Christina

  So step two was now step one and that was fine. Perfect, actually.

  Marlee pulled into the U-shaped brick driveway that led to her parents’ front door. She strode to the massive red door and pushed it open. “Mom? Dad?”

  She set Lothario on the floor. He loved coming to visit his Mimi and PopPop.

  Marlee’d always had visions of her and Scotty’s kids doing the same whenever they would have eventually had them. Another sting to her heart and a not-going-to-happen dream.

  “Oh, thank goodness.” Her mother scurried down the marble staircase to Marlee. “You’re here.” She wrapped Marlee in an Elizabeth Arden–scented hug. “We’ve been so worried.”

  Her mom was more casual than a lot of their society friends. Still, casual for her mom meant a nice pair of pressed slacks and a matching blouse. Tonight, the set was pastel blue and accompanied by a set of pearl earrings and her standard string of Jackie O–inspired pearls.

  “Marlee.” Her dad emerged from the hallway leading to the kitchen. He hugged her as well. His starched button-up shirt and slacks would’ve been formal for most, but these were his lounging clothes. The ones he wore around the house. At work, it was always a full suit and tie. “You haven’t answered our calls.”

  They must’ve been genuinely concerned, since neither of them gave a second glance to Lothario, who was clearly feeling the sting of that rejection given the look on his little chihuahua face.

  “Is that why you turned off my credit cards?” Marlee appreciated their concern—really, she did. She also wished they would have given her the time and space to come on her own.

  “We had multiple reasons for that.” Her mom worried at her bottom lip. “We think you and Scotty made a mistake. This is one of those times a little communication can go a long way. Come, let’s talk in the kitchen.”

  All the communication in the world wasn’t going to fix what was broken between Marlee and Scotty. Her parents flanked her as they crossed their arms behind her and scooted her forward down the hall. Lothario thumped behind them.

  It was Italian night in the house. If she had to guess, her dad had made his famous saltimbocca. One of her favorite meals. Chicken breast that practically melted in the mouth with parmesan and mozzarella and prosciutto de parma. Absolutely divine.

  At least, if she had to face their reasons for cutting her off, she’d be well fed.

  Her dad loved to cook and took every opportunity he could to practice his kitchen skills. Most of the time, they had an on-staff chef because he worked so much, but cooking was one of his favorite things. Some men took up golf—like Scotty—but her dad loved to cook. He and Eli would probably get along famously if they gave each other a shot.

  Marlee hadn’t gotten the culinary gene, given her propensity to burn anything that came within ten feet of the stove. Microwave popcorn, she could handle. Toast in the toaster, a pretty safe bet. Anything else? Yeah, no.

  They rounded the Grecian column marking the kitchen entrance.

  Scotty sat at a barstool noshing away on prosciutto and chicken.

  Marlee’s stomach seemed to lurch to the left, her appetite totally gone. He was supposed to be on a beach somewhere far, far from here.

  “No.” Marlee started to step backward. “This is not going to happen. Ever.”

  “We asked Scotty to come back so you two can work through whatever this thing is that’s gone wrong,” her father said.

  Scotty dabbed at the right side of his mouth with a white linen napkin. He looked her over head to toe.

  “He told you he was going to break up with me, and you didn’t mention it.” Marlee pulled away from her parents. “He broke off the wedding, and you sent him to the tropics.”

  “I never thought he’d actually be stupid enough to go through with it.” Dad glared daggers at Scotty.

  Scotty flinched.

  “Blowing off steam before a wedding is one thing,” her mother said. “This is something else.”

  “This is called a breakup.” Marlee glanced up to where her mom stood on her left.

  “Leelee.” Her nickname was rough against Scotty’s vocal cords.

  He said nothing more, which was perfect. There wasn’t anything more to say.

  “The whole family just needs to talk.” Her dad reached for her and gave her a side squeeze.

  That was all great, but Scotty wasn’t technically family. Given his recent decision to cancel the wedding, he’d never be part of the family.

  She waited for the sinking feeling to come back—the sadness of years lost, of kids that would never burst through the door of their grandparents’ house... An abandoned future. It didn’t come. Instead, she wished Eli was with her. If anything, to make Scotty squirm. More because instinct told her he’d have her back.

  “If this is a family meeting, I’ll ask, why is Scotty here?” she asked.

  Scotty grimaced. “There’s no need to be mean.”

  He was totally right. He didn’t deserve any emotion from her. Not even anger.

  “This is complicated.” Her mom started fixing a plate. Marlee knew it was for her. “But we thought the two of you might be able to talk through some of the unpleasantness if we all got together. Everyone just needs to be open to the conversation. Set the anger aside.”

  “I’m not angry.” Marlee took the offered plate, picked up a fork, and cut into the tender chicken with the side of it—all while standing. She refused to sit near Scotty. Yes, it seemed petty. Really, she didn’t want to have to smell his scent, relive their memories. Not yet, anyway. Would she get there? Yes. She’d get there. No doubt about it. However, that wasn’t today.

  “You got married.” Scotty folded the napkin, creasing it between his middle and index finger. “It’s all over the Internet.”

  “Scotty,” her dad said quietly. “We aren’t discussing that part yet.”

  Marlee couldn’t get a good read on Scotty. He didn’t seem sad. She’d thought he might be a little sad, but he just seemed indifferent. Like it didn’t matter.

  Like she didn’t matter, and that made her heart ache.

  “Yes, I got married. And?” Marlee said with a strong dose of annoyance. Her inner attitude was apparently on the scene. Scotty never got doses of Marlee’s attitude. No one did, really. “You didn’t want to do it, so someone else did.”

  Which wasn’t entirely the truth, but also not entirely a lie. It was what she and her besties called a try—part truth, part lie.

  “You’re acting ridiculous.” Scotty moved with precision, setting his knife and fork beside his plate.

  “Really, Scotty, you’re being very unhelpful.” Her mother gave Scotty a look that could boil ice water.

  “I’m being ridiculous?” Marlee asked, ignoring her parents. “You called off our wedding with less than two days to go. Shouldn’t you be on our honeymoon?”

  “I was just boarding the plane when my phone started ringing. We had to call in a special public relations team to handle the questions. You know better than anyone what kind of damage something like this can do to the organization. We could lose sponsors. A little heads-up would’ve been good.”

  That’s what he was worried about? Losing his precious sponsors? “And you came back, because?”

  “Leelee.” He looked at her like she was the one being utterly impossible. “You got married.” There was a touch of sadness in those words now.

  The sadness jerked at the strings around her heart. She vowed to clip them when it came to Scotty. He had no business tugging on them anymore.

  “Mom?” Marlee decided to go straight to the one ally she was sure to have. “I got married. It wasn’t planned. Sadie is handling the divorce. Is that why you and Dad shut off my credit cards?”

  Her mom made a slightly strangled noise. “We worried you wouldn’t come home until we forced our hand.”

  “I was coming straight over as soon as I got settled at the hotel.”

  “Who is it?” Scotty asked. “Who’s the
guy?”

  Marlee pressed her eyes closed. “It’s really none of your business.”

  “Who is he, Marlee?” her mom asked.

  Now, her mother? Her mother would insist on an answer.

  “His name is Eli. Eli Howard. Sadie’s brother,” Marlee said, attempting to make it sound totally normal.

  “The caterer?” Scotty asked.

  Marlee ignored him.

  “You should stay here.” Her mom fussed with a plate she was fixing for Marlee’s dad. “The hotel will be so lonely. We think here is a better choice.”

  “You married our caterer?” Scotty’s voice pitched higher.

  “Scotty.” Her dad shook his head. “Stay here, Marlee.”

  “Or at the house,” Scotty added. “You can stay with me at the house.”

  “Someplace this Eli Howard doesn’t bother you.” Her dad took the plate and sat at the barstool across from Scotty. They were all comfortable in the kitchen. It’s where the family gathered unless the event was formal.

  What he meant was so Eli Howard didn’t bother her trust fund.

  “You’re worried he’s in it for my money?” she asked.

  “You have to be careful with your money, Marlee.” Her dad shoved his hands on his hips, exasperated.

  “I trust Eli,” Marlee said. “Totally trust him. He’s not going to take my money.”

  “C’mon, you understand how people work.” Scotty wiped at his mouth. “He married you because you have a lot of money. We froze your accounts to protect your assets.” Scotty stood as though he was going to step toward her, reason with her.

  She officially clipped those heartstrings. “You don’t have any say over my accounts.”

  Her grandmother had assigned her parents as trustees, not Scotty.

  “Scotty isn’t involved in the finances,” her father said. “Your mother and I made the decision.”

  They didn’t know Eli. Didn’t know who he really was. Eli had never cared that she had money. “Eli married me because we got drunk. Now we’re dealing with it. We’ve already started the divorce papers.”

  “Once the divorce goes through, we’ll turn everything back on,” her mother said.

  “If Scotty is at our house, then I won’t be. And if Scotty is here, then I won’t be. And if Scotty’s at the office, then I won’t be.” Marlee glanced from her parents to Scotty. “I’ll find somewhere else.”

  It’s not like she pulled a paycheck from the family business. She’d never needed one. Now, it seemed, she needed one.

  “Your mother and I know you’re upset.” Her dad bowed his head, speaking to the counter. “We know you’re hurt. Good decisions don’t happen when a person is hurting, so we will be there for you through this. When the divorce is final, we’ll open your accounts again. Until then, we don’t want this Eli to have access to all your funds or cause further hurt. So you’ll stay here with us, and we’ll support you through this.”

  Marlee stared at him like he’d suddenly grown a mole in the center of his forehead. “You’re serious.”

  “We’re very serious.” Her mom laid a hand against her dad’s back. “We want to be sure you’re okay.”

  “I move in here and you give me some kind of allowance or something?” Marlee’s heart beat faster. Her frustration with the judge in Vegas had nothing on her frustration with her parents. “And that’s supposed to protect me from Eli? The one person who has consistently been there for me since Scotty scraped me off?”

  “Leelee—”

  “It’s best this way. And it’s just for now,” her mom said softly.

  “No.” Marlee picked up Lothario, turned toward the hallway, and made her way to the front door. Her chest heaved. Her eyes got hot. Unshed tears stung her eyelids.

  None of them followed her. They didn’t think they’d need to. She was a trust-fund baby and they’d cut the cord. A spoiled little rich girl with no money wouldn’t survive in the world without them. Her only hope was to crawl back down that hall and beg for money.

  She wouldn’t do that.

  She had a degree. She had friends. She had…Eli.

  With Lothario still snuggled in her purse, she climbed into her SUV and did the one thing she never thought she’d do.

  She called her husband.

  Chapter Ten

  Eli needed a serious rewind. Rewind and reboot. Go back, start over, change the outcome.

  He scrubbed his palm over his face.

  “Your family is being a bag of dicks, Mar. You’re welcome to stay with me,” he said into the phone.

  “Thank you, Eli. Really,” she replied, the muffled sound of her mouth close to the phone.

  “See you in a few.” He ended the call, already headed to the coin-operated washer at the end of the building to toss in his spare set of sheets. Marlee would take his bed. He’d pull out the sofa for himself. Scotty could suck it.

  He thought he could tell Marlee what to do after he broke her to fucking pieces? It took all Eli had in him not to hop in his Jeep and rearrange the guy’s nose into his eyebrows. He’d already broken her heart, wasn’t that enough? Did he have to turn her parents against her, too?

  He shot a text to Sadie, letting her know they could really use this divorce.

  The response he got was less than helpful.

  Divorces take time. Should have something in the next day or so for you to sign.

  He’d barely set the washer on permanent press and got back to the apartment before the timer on the oven started flipping out. He hurried to the kitchen to make it shut up. Careful not to burn the shit out of his hands, he used a kitchen towel to pull out the ceramic dish of enchiladas.

  He hoped Marlee was into Mexican food.

  Not that he was trying to impress her. He didn’t have any reason to impress anyone. If he were trying to impress her, he wouldn’t be using month-old frozen enchiladas he’d tossed in the deep freezer after the Miller wedding.

  No, he wasn’t trying to impress Marlee. The fact that he hoped she liked his food was purely an ego thing. Not a husband thing.

  He gulped at the thought.

  He needed to get used to the word.

  “Husband.” He let it slide over his vocal cords. That wasn’t so bad.

  “Marriage,” he said it, but he also practically choked on it. Nope. Not there yet.

  For the briefest of moments, he considered tossing a heap of margaritas in the blender, but he and Marlee didn’t make good decisions when alcohol was involved. Instead, he figured they’d have iced tea. Iced tea was safe. Iced tea was not margaritas.

  Which sucked.

  His phone rang. He snagged it. Shit. His mom. He hadn’t called her.

  “Mom,” he said into the receiver. “Hi.”

  There was a pause. He knew she was there, he could hear her breathing.

  “I got a funny call today from Sadie,” she finally said. He just bet she did. “About my son’s wedding,” she continued. “I said she must be mistaken, because my son wouldn’t get married without telling his mother.”

  “I literally just got back to town, swear I was stopping by to tell you in person.” He’d planned on doing that until Marlee had called. “It’s not what you think it is.”

  “Then I hope you’ll tell me what it is?”

  “It was a mistake, and Sadie is handling the divorce.” Not once did he have to use the m-word. Go him.

  The soft knock on the front door had him moving there.

  “Look, Marlee’s staying with me for a little bit. Long story, but I’ll fill you in once I get her settled.”

  “Eli?” his mother asked. He could hear the smile in her voice.

  “Yeah?” He hustled to open the door.

  “Maybe hold off on the divorce,” she said, then the line went dead.

  He paused. Took three deep breaths. Smoothed his hair. Demanded his heart stop tripping over each beat.

  Then he opened the door.

  “Hey.” He reached for her suitcase
but paused because she’d been crying.

  That asshole, Scotty, had made her cry. Again.

  Eli never wanted to break a nose so badly in his life.

  “Thank you.” Marlee followed Eli and her suitcase inside. She set Lothario’s purse on the floor to let him roam. He went straight for Eli’s shoes. Because of course, he did. “Thank you for letting us stay with you.”

  Her eyes were puffy as shit from crying, but her words were strong. She wasn’t looking for his strength, she just needed to know someone had her back. So he focused on what he could do—lay it all out there.

  “Well, first of all, we’re in this bind together, so it makes sense we work through it as a team. And second, you’re my friend and you’re practically my family, so of course, you can stay. And third, my mother will disown me if I get mistaked to someone and then don’t let them crash at my place when their ex utterly screws them over.”

  Marlee stepped into the living room. Never had anyone ever looked more out of place than socialite Marlee in his living space. Not that his apartment wasn’t kept up. Sadie had helped him pick out his furniture, so it all matched. His mother insisted on deep cleaning the place twice a month—even though he offered to hire someone. This just ticked her off, so he quit mentioning it. At least her attention made it so the place didn’t reek of bachelorhood. But even if the apartment wasn’t a dump, Marlee was a puzzle piece that didn’t fit. No, she looked like she belonged at Tiffany’s. Not waiting for clean sheets and month-old frozen enchiladas.

  “It isn’t just Scotty. Mom and Dad think you’re after my trust fund. I know that’s not true.” She rubbed at her forehead with the heel of her palm. “But I know them. I know what they’re thinking. They think I’ll be back tomorrow with my tail tucked between my legs like Lothario after his accident. I refuse. If I have to sell my clothes and buy a plane ticket to couch surf at Sadie’s, then that’s what I’ll do. I’m going to get a job—and not one that they control. And then I’m going to start my new self-sufficient life.”

  Preach it. That’s how he lived, and it was the only way to go.

  “Speaking of Sadie, I texted her. She’ll hurry through the paperwork.” He lifted Marlee’s suitcase, carrying it to his bedroom. “Should have something to sign in the next day or so.”