Fall In Love Again (Serendipitous Love Book 3) Page 7

  But I took those vows.

  And even if I didn’t marry Adrian for the right — or hell, even smart — reasons, I still had respect for him, and I was willing to try to make the best of it. It wasn’t like being with Adrian was torture. I couldn’t make myself have romantic feelings for Adrian, but I liked him, I respected him, and he was undeniably attractive, so… we stuck it out, with a few adjustments. He wanted a little more “freedom” and I… wanted to fill a void in my life. So we compromised, and made logical decision number three… we started trying for a baby.

  When he told me, shortly after we started trying to conceive that he was in a little trouble, I honestly didn’t believe him. Or maybe it was denial. In any case, I went about my life as if nothing had changed, because to me, it hadn’t.

  Until my clients started “seeking other options” and “going in a new direction”.

  And federal agents were wanting to talk to me.

  And the brokerage he’d moved to California for terminated his contract, to protect their company, and mitigate the damage to their reputation.

  He assured me over, over, and over again that he hadn’t done anything, he would be cleared. But then his ass got arrested, and call me crazy, but vows or not, being a prison wife was something I didn’t sign up for.

  Through all of that, he insisted on his innocence, and I wanted to believe him, because the accusations just didn’t fit the Adrian I knew. But then, somebody decided it was local news-worthy, and the widows and retired firefighters and veterans came forward to tell their stories. Those people were broken, in heart and spirit as they talked about how they had been made to feel safe, and well-taken care of, but now their life savings were gone. Their retirements were gone. Their pensions were gone. And they all had one thing in common.

  They’d worked with Adrian.

  He wasn’t even allowed to stay home, under monitoring while he waited on the endless court appearances that comprised his trial. They kept him under lock and key, and one visit was enough for me. I couldn’t handle the news vans in my yard, microphones shoved in my face outside the gym, or accusing stares while I tried to shop for groceries. Tried. Because they froze the money, and not just his accounts. Mine too, with the money I made as a private chef, and my savings from Pot Liquor, and my private investment accounts, and… everything.

  They took everything.

  Once they were done tearing it all apart, I had very, very little left for Adrian. So, when he made these phone calls to tell me about how court had gone, or complain about the food, or whatever other random niceties he deemed worthy of the precious ten minutes a day he was allowed on the phone, I had a very hard time offering patience.

  I really just wanted him to sign the damned divorce papers so I could move on with my life.

  “Yes, Adrian. I’m here,” I said finally, punctuating it with a sigh. “What is it?”

  “I was asking you about these divorce papers… why do you insist on doing this? I’m telling you, Charlie… once all of this is cleared up, I’m gonna make it right.”

  Sitting up on the edge of the bed, I pushed my fingers into my hair, somehow resisting the urge to rip a handful out. “Adrian… there’s nothing to make right. I want you to agree to the divorce, that’s all. You owe me nothing else. I just want to be able to move on.”

  “To another man.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You don’t have to. I can hear it in your voice. You’re slipping away from me. I’m taking the fall for some shit I didn’t even do, and I’m losing my wife.” When I chose silence over a verbal response, Adrian cursed under his breath. “Charlie… just… give me a little time here. I’m innocent.”

  “I hope so,” I said, running my fingernails over the tiny stitches in the bedspread. “For your sake, Adrian, I truly, truly hope that you get vindicated, but… this situation isn’t where you lost me. We were holding on to the arrangement that we made way past the expiration date. It’s time to move on, to something that’s actually sustainable for a future.”

  “We can do that. When this is cleared up, we can work on reconnecting, getting to know each other on a deeper level. It’ll be like dating.”

  I threw myself back on the bed, using one hand to massage my temples. “Are you serious? You want me to keep my life on hold for you to maybe get out, so we can maybe find a romantic connection that you’re suddenly concerned in building? Where was this interest, say… three or four years ago?”

  “It’s always been there.”

  “Adrian, if you don’t cut the bullshit… like… I’m pretty sure you spent more time at the strip club than you spent doing things that even bordered on romantic for me.”

  “So now the time that I spent out with my boys is a problem?”

  “No,” I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut. “It’s not a problem, it wasn’t a problem, and it never will be a problem. My point is that you’ve never demonstrated that I was more than a… friend with benefits to you. I don’t understand why you think I should hold out for you to start doing it now, when there hasn’t been a romantic spark in four goddamned years.”

  “Okay… so I see we can’t have this conversation right now. Not while you’re upset.”

  “I’m gonna be upset for the foreseeable future, so we may as well have it now.”

  “You’re agitated.”

  “Because you’re agitating me.”

  “By trying to fight for our marriage?”

  “By pretending that you ever thought our marriage was more than an ill-conceived decision that we just tried to make the best of. You going to prison, my business being lost, my money being kept from me, my home being taken away, my reputation trashed…this is more than I signed up for, Adrian. Again, I really hope that you do get out of this, and I hope you bounce back even better than before if that’s the case. But in the meantime… I need to rebuild my life, and I want to do it with a clean slate. This is me using my out.”

  “Your out?”

  “Yes. When we first decided to do this marriage thing, we agreed that if the other person decided they didn’t want to do it anymore, we wouldn’t hold them back. Do you remember that?”

  Through the phone, I heard him push out a heavy sigh. “Yeah. I remember. But that was before I knew I loved you.”

  Wait…. What?

  “Adrian, tha—“

  “My time is up, Charlie, I’ve gotta go. I’m not signing these papers. I love you. Bye.”

  “Wait a goddamned minute, Adrian. I— Adrian? Adrian?!”

  The only response I got was the complete silence that let me know he’d hung up, leaving me with a massive headache and a still unresolved divorce.

  Somehow, I found the self-control to not throw my phone across the room, then finally got out of bed to handle my morning routine. I tried to block Adrian out of my head. There was no point in allowing my thoughts to dwell there, because there wasn’t anything I could do about it. Unfortunately for me, he still had rights. Contesting the divorce was just… one he chose to exercise.

  I dressed in shorts and a tee shirt at first, because I didn’t plan to see or be seen by anybody today. Court TV and a pint of ice cream sounded much more appealing, but then I changed my mind. Wallowing in self-pity was just as useless as devoting brain power to trying to figure Adrian out.

  Stepping into my closet, I pulled out a pretty royal blue sundress and my favorite sandals. I picked out sexy underwear, styled my hair, and put on eyeliner and lip-gloss. Fifteen minutes later, I smiled at myself in the mirror. Five minutes after that… I was propped on the couch with my ice cream and the remote.

  I didn’t have shit to do.

  My primary focus was rebuilding a savings account, so shopping was out of the question. Carter had taken Viv on some overnight staycation getaway thing, so going to see my cousin was out. I’d been back at Pot Liquor for almost a month, so I wasn’t shadowing Nixon anymore. I was on the schedule now, and today wasn’t one of my days, s
o going there was out. The last thing I needed Nix thinking was that I was popping up to see him.

  And what about Trent…

  Oh.

  Yeah.

  Almost forgot about him… which probably wasn’t a great sign. With all of the drama with Adrian, it wasn’t surprising that my mind was preoccupied. Even so, things with Trent were going well. We’d gone out two more times since that near-failure first date, and I truly enjoyed his company — when he wasn’t picking at that empty ring finger, or talking about his wife. But I got it. His divorce was fairly recent, only six months ago, so the pain was still fresh.

  In any case… I liked him. The second date kiss was a real kiss, and gave me a respectable amount of tingles. The third date kiss was a lot more… vigorous — on his part — and afterwards, he kinda seemed like he was angling to be invited inside.

  That would be a no.

  First, there was the whole still married thing. As far I was concerned, our marriage was over, but that’s not what the state of California thought. I liked Trent, but we had a lot further to go before I would be willing to go full-on trifling wife. Three dates certainly wasn’t gonna make me into an adultress. Besides… I saw where sleeping with a man too soon got me: Dating, while my husband was in prison.

  A knock at the door drew me from my thoughts, and I stuck my ice cream back in the freezer on the way to answer.

  I checked the peephole first, and the sight of Nixon at my door made my heart start to race. What did he want at this time of morning?

  I took a deep breath before I opened the door, but as soon as Nixon was in front of me, he snatched it away.

  Really shouldn’t be okay to look this damned good.

  He was dressed casually, in white cargo shorts, a rich blue polo, and Sperrys. He smelled yummy— friggin’ delicious — and he looked scrumptious, all freshly cut and trimmed and —

  “Charlie?”

  “Hm?”

  “I asked if you were ready to go… I see you’re already dressed…”

  I shook my head to clear my thoughts, then looked up to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry… ready to go? Where are we going? Why aren’t you at the restaurant getting ready for breakfast service?”

  Nixon lifted an eyebrow, then shifted to lean against the doorframe. “I’m not at the restaurant because we’re usually pretty mellow on Thursday mornings, and we’re entrusting Jordan and Amina to handle it while you and I go to the restaurant supply store to pick out the new plate ware and cutlery you decided we needed.”

  “Ohh,” I said, nodding as the memory of that conversation came back to me. “That’s… today.”

  Nixon scowled a little, confused. “Yeah… that’s not why you’re dressed? Did you make other plans?”

  “What? No, I just… it slipped my mind. But I’m ready. We can go.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, just let me grab my purse.”

  I shook my head, leaving him at the door as I went to grab my purse and phone. After the hassle of that infuriating phone call with Adrian, spending a good part of the day with Nixon sounded like more stress, but… what the hell. At least I would get to pick out pretty new plates.

  eight.

  charlie.

  “What about these?”

  I gestured at a plate on display then ran my fingers along the polished edge of its surface. To Nixon, the plate probably looked exactly like all the other simple white plates we’d viewed, but I saw the difference, and had been dragging him through the aisles for the last hour.

  It was kind of amazing, how from a long distance, he so easily worked my nerves, but now, back in his presence, we had such an effortless, natural… vibe. Even now, this quiet moment of shopping for something as mundane as plates, shouldn’t have felt so but it just did.

  It was so easy to forget what he’d done.

  He approached me from behind, putting his hand at my waist as he leaned over me to see the plate and give me a slight tug toward him. Instead of resisting, my first reaction was to give in to his desire to have me close to him. Inexplicably, I found myself feeling a little guilty every time he wanted to touch me and I resisted, as if somewhere in me, my body still thought I belonged to him.

  With him.

  That was the only explanation for the feeling of rightness that coursed through me as I allowed him to pull me close.

  “Those look good,” he said, even though I could feel his eyes so intensely focused on me I knew he hadn’t even looked at the plate. “Are those the ones you want?”

  I glanced up, shifting slightly so that I was facing him a little more. “I really, really like these, but they’re kind of over our budget.”

  “So?” He skimmed his thumb over my side. “Get whatever you want.”

  I shook my head, then started on to the next display. “Uh-uh. We have numbers to stick to, and it’s not that big of a deal.”

  “Wait a minute now,” he said, dragging me back. “I saw how your eyes lit up about those, so it is a big deal. Get the plates, baby.”

  This time, I turned so that we were face to face, and looked him in the eyes. “Nix… don’t start that.”

  “Start what?”

  “You know what.”

  He scratched his head, looking away in an attempt to hide the grin threatening to overtake his mouth. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Mmhmm. So you’re not trying to spoil me?” I asked, reaching up to cup his chin and turn his face back to mine.

  “Not at all.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Liar.”

  Still, I couldn’t help smiling as I slipped away from him and heading for the next display.

  That was one of many good memories from our relationship. Even when we were broke, after putting all we had and some we didn’t into starting Pot Liquor, Nixon always found ways to make a fuss over me. Candlelit massages, grocery store flowers, scrambled eggs and oatmeal in bed, love notes stuck to my forehead on days he was out of the door before I was out of bed… sweet little things that cost him nothing except his time and attention, but meant the world to me.

  I glanced back to see him gazing at those plates, and I knew that despite my protests, he was going to buy them, even if he pulled the difference from his own pocket. I’d seen that look before, and hated that my potential disappointment still held such power over him. It would be much easier to not get wrapped up in him if he didn’t care about my happiness.

  “Charlie? What’s on your mind?”

  Shaking my head, I turned away again, pretending to be interested in the next set of plates. “Nothing.”

  “Didn’t look like nothing.”

  I shrugged. “Don’t know what to tell you. These plates here. I like these, and they’re under budget.”

  Crossing his arms, Nixon cocked his head to the side and stared at me, one eyebrow lifted. “You seemed a lot more excited about the other ones.”

  “The other ones aren’t within budget.”

  “I told you it didn’t matter.”

  “Nix…”

  He pushed out a heavy sigh, then unfolded his arms. “Fine.” Pulling his keys from his pocket, he handed them to me, then gestured toward the front door. “I’ll finalize our order, then be out in a second.”

  “You think I’m crazy?”

  “Did I say that? Just go wait for me.”

  “Nixon.”

  Nixon groaned, then turned to me, gently grabbing me by the shoulders. “Charlie… let me do this for you.”

  I started to speak again in protest, but the pleading in his eyes halted my words. It was pointless to argue.

  Shaking my head, I reluctantly turned and headed to the car, where I cranked up the radio and air conditioner, then pulled out my phone to pass the time. When I turned on the screen, I noticed a text notification that I hadn’t heard.

  “Hey Beautiful. Feel like joining me for an early lunch at 11? – Trent E.”

  He’d sent that message at 9:42, and it wa
s currently almost noon, so… no lunch date for me.

  “Just now seeing this, sorry!”

  I started to slip the phone back into my purse, but it chimed with a new message.

  “No problem, it was last-minute. Busy morning? – Trent E.”

  “Somewhat. Ordering things for the restaurant.”

  “I thought you were off today? You mentioned relaxing. – Trent E.”

  “Had to go to the supply warehouse with Nixon.”

  As soon as I hit send, I regretted putting down that I was with Nixon. Not that Trent had ever given me any indications of jealousy, but I didn’t want there to be any reason for him to think he needed to start.

  Nixon hadn’t exactly bullied Trent in high school, but after noticing his growing interest in me, Nix had threatened all manner of physical violence against him. I was so mad at him for that. I didn’t like Trent at all, at least not in the way he liked me, but still. Nix scaring off potential boyfriends wasn’t a trend I wanted to start, especially when he wasn’t even pursuing me.

  “Cool. You can just get back to me when you’re done. – Trent E.”

  “We’re done now. Do you maybe wanna have dinner tonight, since we missed the chance for lunch?”

  “Already have plans. Dionne wants to talk about something. She’s been trying to keep in contact a lot lately, so I guess I should see what she wants. Sorry, Beautiful. – Trent E.”

  Hmm. Was he making sure I knew he was going to be with his ex as a response to knowing I’d missed a meal with him because I was with Nixon?

  Nah. Couldn’t be.

  Or at least, I hoped — for his sake — not. Because… we hadn’t been dating long enough for me to honestly care that much.

  “Sounds… intense.”

  “Sounds terrifying. Wish me luck. –Trent E.”

  “LOL! Good luck.”

  “Thanks. I need it. Talk to you later, Beautiful. – Trent E.”

  I slipped my phone back into my purse when Nixon opened the driver’s side door and climbed in. Despite the blasting air conditioner, I could swear the temperature shot up ten degrees just from having him in such close proximity. I buckled my seatbelt and sat back as he pulled out of the parking lot, and a few minutes later, we were on the highway for the twenty-minute drive back to the city.