She pulled back but not out of my arms then she said softly, “This, too, shall pass.”
I hoped she was right.
“Uh, girlfriend,” Elvira was close; I let go of Martha and looked to her then beyond her to a handsome but somewhat elderly man I’d never seen in my life was standing just inside my door. “You got a visitor,” she informed me of the obvious then went on, “Says his name is Dade McManus.”
I blinked at her then I looked at the handsome but somewhat elderly man standing just inside my door.
Whoa.
That was Olivia’s husband?
He was handsome, yes. And I could see even a room away that his clothes were of very good quality as in he was not a stranger to Neiman’s good quality. And he wore them well on a still slim, fit body. And he had good style. And he was only somewhat elderly.
Still.
Maybe Brock was wrong. Maybe Olivia did want her bad boy hot guy ex-husband back.
Damn.
And double damn because what the f**k was he doing here?
“Um…” I mumbled.
“I’ll only take a moment of your time, Ms. O’Hara, but it’s important,” he called politely.
Damn!
“Who’s that?” Martha, up on her toes and at my side, whispered in my ear.
“Brock’s ex-wife’s husband,” I whispered back.
“Oo lawdy,” Elvira muttered.
“You got that right, sugar,” Daisy whispered.
“Fuckin’ A,” Shirleen mumbled.
“Holy crap,” Martha murmured.
“Uh… I’ll be right there,” I called, he cordially lifted his chin then moved to study the books on my inset shelves.
Crap.
I rolled my hands toward me to indicate the girls should huddle, they didn’t delay in huddling and I whispered low, “Okay, I don’t want to go shopping but I’ll meet you at Club later.” I turned to Martha and ordered, “Text me.” Then back to the group. “Have fun and if you happen to see a sexy nightie that shouts, ‘Happy Valentine’s Day!’ there’s a free cupcake in it for you.”
“Make that a frosted sugar cookie with daisy sprinkles and I just found me a mission,”
Shirleen stated and I nodded to her.
“Two, if it’s super hot,” I said.
She nodded back, a determined look in her eye and I guessed from that that Brock was going to have a happy Valentine’s Day. I shuffled them to the door, called farewells, gave Martha another hug and then they were gone.
And I was alone with Olivia’s husband.
One word and it was a word I never used in my life: egad.
“Can I get you something? Coffee? Hot tea? Cocoa?” I offered and he turned from his polite perusal of my shelves to me.
“No, Ms. O’Hara, I won’t take up much of your time.”
“Tess,” I said softly and his head tipped to the side. “Everyone calls me Tess.”
“Tess,” he said back, I smiled at him and motioned to the seating area.
He took a seat in my armchair; I planted my ass in the couch.
“What can I do for you Mr. McManus?”
“Dade,” he corrected quietly and I nodded. Then he studied me a moment, shifted uncomfortably in his chair and then said, “I actually don’t know how to say this or even why I’m here.”
This was a good question that had two parts. The second part being how he knew where I lived.
“Can I ask how you, um… found me? I mean, where I live.”
“I asked Joey,” he answered.
Right. This made sense. The kids had been to my place and clearly Joel was as observant as his father.
His eyes locked with mine and he stated, “I might as well just say it because you should know.” He paused then declared, “I have reason to believe your er… boyfriend and my wife are having an affair.”
I blinked at him as my lungs contracted.
“What?” I whispered.
“I have…” he paused, “had the occasion to…” another pause, “hire someone to follow my wife,” he admitted. “And it’s been reported to me that twice she’s met your boyfriend for dinner.”
I waited for more.
None came.
So I prompted, “And?”
His brows drew together. “And?”
“Yes, and?”
“What do you mean, and?”
Oh God.
Belatedly, it hit me. He didn’t know his wife was meeting Brock for dinner to discuss custody. She hadn’t told him.
Oh God.
“Dade,” I said gently, “I know Brock has been meeting Olivia for dinner. This is because, recently, Brock made a career move which means his schedule is more stable. Therefore, a couple of weeks after Thanksgiving, Olivia received word from Brock’s attorney that he wanted to negotiate a joint custody arrangement. Olivia for…” it was my turn to pause, “her own reasons wanted to discuss uh…” Damn! “Various things with Brock including this and she asked him to meet for dinner. She was, uh… somewhat, um… discontent when he refused and she was, um… discontent in front of the boys so Brock agreed. However, after two dinners without a resolution, Brock will now only be communicating through his lawyer.”
His mouth had gotten tight right around the time I mentioned Olivia got word from Brock’s lawyer and it was stretched taut by the time I was done.
Then he looked behind me out my side window.
Oh man.
“She hasn’t discussed this with you,” I said softly.
“No,” he clipped shortly.
I remained silent.
Then I asked, “Are you sure you don’t want any coffee?”
His eyes cut back to me and he didn’t answer my question.
Instead he asked, “Discontent?”
I again remained silent.
“You mean she threw a tantrum in front of the boys to get her way.”
I bit my lip. His eyes dropped to my mouth and his mouth again got so tight I thought his skin would split open.
“Let me go put some coffee on,” I said softly and his eyes shot to mine.
“And my wife’s reasons for wishing to see your boyfriend do not all revolve around discussing the boys seeing more of their father.”
“No,” I whispered.
He nodded and looked back out the window.
“I’ll just go make some coffee,” I whispered, got up and hurried to the kitchen.
I set it to brew, put out a plate and did the unheard of. I put store bought cookies on a plate for company.
I hoped she was right.
“Uh, girlfriend,” Elvira was close; I let go of Martha and looked to her then beyond her to a handsome but somewhat elderly man I’d never seen in my life was standing just inside my door. “You got a visitor,” she informed me of the obvious then went on, “Says his name is Dade McManus.”
I blinked at her then I looked at the handsome but somewhat elderly man standing just inside my door.
Whoa.
That was Olivia’s husband?
He was handsome, yes. And I could see even a room away that his clothes were of very good quality as in he was not a stranger to Neiman’s good quality. And he wore them well on a still slim, fit body. And he had good style. And he was only somewhat elderly.
Still.
Maybe Brock was wrong. Maybe Olivia did want her bad boy hot guy ex-husband back.
Damn.
And double damn because what the f**k was he doing here?
“Um…” I mumbled.
“I’ll only take a moment of your time, Ms. O’Hara, but it’s important,” he called politely.
Damn!
“Who’s that?” Martha, up on her toes and at my side, whispered in my ear.
“Brock’s ex-wife’s husband,” I whispered back.
“Oo lawdy,” Elvira muttered.
“You got that right, sugar,” Daisy whispered.
“Fuckin’ A,” Shirleen mumbled.
“Holy crap,” Martha murmured.
“Uh… I’ll be right there,” I called, he cordially lifted his chin then moved to study the books on my inset shelves.
Crap.
I rolled my hands toward me to indicate the girls should huddle, they didn’t delay in huddling and I whispered low, “Okay, I don’t want to go shopping but I’ll meet you at Club later.” I turned to Martha and ordered, “Text me.” Then back to the group. “Have fun and if you happen to see a sexy nightie that shouts, ‘Happy Valentine’s Day!’ there’s a free cupcake in it for you.”
“Make that a frosted sugar cookie with daisy sprinkles and I just found me a mission,”
Shirleen stated and I nodded to her.
“Two, if it’s super hot,” I said.
She nodded back, a determined look in her eye and I guessed from that that Brock was going to have a happy Valentine’s Day. I shuffled them to the door, called farewells, gave Martha another hug and then they were gone.
And I was alone with Olivia’s husband.
One word and it was a word I never used in my life: egad.
“Can I get you something? Coffee? Hot tea? Cocoa?” I offered and he turned from his polite perusal of my shelves to me.
“No, Ms. O’Hara, I won’t take up much of your time.”
“Tess,” I said softly and his head tipped to the side. “Everyone calls me Tess.”
“Tess,” he said back, I smiled at him and motioned to the seating area.
He took a seat in my armchair; I planted my ass in the couch.
“What can I do for you Mr. McManus?”
“Dade,” he corrected quietly and I nodded. Then he studied me a moment, shifted uncomfortably in his chair and then said, “I actually don’t know how to say this or even why I’m here.”
This was a good question that had two parts. The second part being how he knew where I lived.
“Can I ask how you, um… found me? I mean, where I live.”
“I asked Joey,” he answered.
Right. This made sense. The kids had been to my place and clearly Joel was as observant as his father.
His eyes locked with mine and he stated, “I might as well just say it because you should know.” He paused then declared, “I have reason to believe your er… boyfriend and my wife are having an affair.”
I blinked at him as my lungs contracted.
“What?” I whispered.
“I have…” he paused, “had the occasion to…” another pause, “hire someone to follow my wife,” he admitted. “And it’s been reported to me that twice she’s met your boyfriend for dinner.”
I waited for more.
None came.
So I prompted, “And?”
His brows drew together. “And?”
“Yes, and?”
“What do you mean, and?”
Oh God.
Belatedly, it hit me. He didn’t know his wife was meeting Brock for dinner to discuss custody. She hadn’t told him.
Oh God.
“Dade,” I said gently, “I know Brock has been meeting Olivia for dinner. This is because, recently, Brock made a career move which means his schedule is more stable. Therefore, a couple of weeks after Thanksgiving, Olivia received word from Brock’s attorney that he wanted to negotiate a joint custody arrangement. Olivia for…” it was my turn to pause, “her own reasons wanted to discuss uh…” Damn! “Various things with Brock including this and she asked him to meet for dinner. She was, uh… somewhat, um… discontent when he refused and she was, um… discontent in front of the boys so Brock agreed. However, after two dinners without a resolution, Brock will now only be communicating through his lawyer.”
His mouth had gotten tight right around the time I mentioned Olivia got word from Brock’s lawyer and it was stretched taut by the time I was done.
Then he looked behind me out my side window.
Oh man.
“She hasn’t discussed this with you,” I said softly.
“No,” he clipped shortly.
I remained silent.
Then I asked, “Are you sure you don’t want any coffee?”
His eyes cut back to me and he didn’t answer my question.
Instead he asked, “Discontent?”
I again remained silent.
“You mean she threw a tantrum in front of the boys to get her way.”
I bit my lip. His eyes dropped to my mouth and his mouth again got so tight I thought his skin would split open.
“Let me go put some coffee on,” I said softly and his eyes shot to mine.
“And my wife’s reasons for wishing to see your boyfriend do not all revolve around discussing the boys seeing more of their father.”
“No,” I whispered.
He nodded and looked back out the window.
“I’ll just go make some coffee,” I whispered, got up and hurried to the kitchen.
I set it to brew, put out a plate and did the unheard of. I put store bought cookies on a plate for company.
