by Kim Karr
I was more determined than ever to prove that statement wrong.
Paris Holiday
I STARED AT my phone as the voicemail icon lit up with a number beside it, and then hit delete.
That made forty calls in less than thirteen hours. Of course they weren’t all from Tyler Holiday. His friends were calling me as well.
Shoving the black rectangle into my purse, I opened the heavy door and walked out of the funeral parlor just as the sun was going down. The arrangements had been made according to my father’s written wishes. He was to be buried in the plot he’d purchased many years ago, sandwiched right in-between my sister and my mother.
Much to my surprise, there was a plot for me as well. On the other side of London.
Mother. Father. Daughter. Replacement daughter.
No thank you.
“Paris.” Henri stood from the bench he’d sat on to wait for me. “How’d it go?”
“About as good as selecting a coffin can go,” I responded flatly.
He made a face. “Okay then, at least it’s done. So, where to next?”
I’d called Henri only after I’d driven around Tyler’s block ten times, trying to decide if I should go back in and tell him just what I thought of him or drive away and never return.
Henri had convinced me to do neither. So, instead, I went to Senior Living and waited for Fabian to drive him up there from L.A. While I waited, I sat with the remains of my father and attempted to make sense of my life. I found no sense in it at all. Once Fabian dropped Henri off, he went on to St. Helena so Henri could spend the day alone with me.
Henri really was a good friend and probably would have made the better husband. All sex aside.
If only I could rewind life’s events.
I was dead tired. I looked across the street and pointed. “The Saint sounds like a good place.”
Henri smiled. “Drinks and dinner it is, my darling.”
We walked across the road, and when I heard my phone ringing, I chose to ignore it altogether.
Taking a table in the back, we sat down, and as soon as we did, my phone pinged with a text. I didn’t bother to look.
“Paris, darling, answer his calls,” Henri pleaded.
“I will do no such thing.”
“Then tell him to fuck off and be done with him. It will make your life so much easier.”
He didn’t know Tyler.
“Hi, I’m Veronica,” the waitress said as she stood at the end of our table. “Can I get you something to drink while you look at the menu?”
Henri nodded. “Sparkling water for me and a glass of Chardonnay for the lady. Highway 128 if you have it.”
She started to walk away but I waved my hand. “Can you make that a bottle?” I asked her.
Over her shoulder she asked, “One glass or two?”
“One,” I answered.
Henri cocked his head to the side in question and I pointed to him. “He’s riding shotgun back to L.A. tonight, so he needs to keep his wits.”
With a knowing grin, she nodded. “I get that.”
“I don’t have to leave. I could stay,” Henri offered as the waitress continued on the path she’d been on before my interruption.
I shook my head. “No, I’m good.”
He was staring at me.
“What?”
He reached across the table and covered my hand with his. “I’m really sorry about your father.”
I shrugged. “I’m not.”
“Are you sure about that?”
I nodded. “He never cared about me. Why should I care about him?”
Henri tilted his head to the side. “Because you loved him despite his ill-treatment of you and now he’s gone.”
To my surprise, everything rushed up within me and I couldn’t stop the tears that slid down my face.
He squeezed my hand. “I’m worried about you,” he said, his French accent thicker than normal. “What are you going to do now?”
I covered his hand with mine. “I don’t know yet, but I can promise you I’m not letting my company go down without a fight.”
The smile he gave me was encouraging. “That’s my girl. If I can help in any way, let me know.”
It was a nice offer but way too late for that. With the merger in full force, Tyler would never go for it, even if it was an option.
Tyler.
I sighed.
Veronica brought my bottle of wine and it sat mostly untouched until our salads arrived and remained that way even as I ate.
Drowning my sorrows didn’t feel right.
“So, what are you going to do about Tyler?” Henri asked taking the last bite of his food.
I shook my head. “Isn’t that the million dollar question.”
One half of his mouth turned up. “So, do you think he fucked that girl?”
I sighed and put my elbows on the table to rest my chin. “I doubt it. He was green and passed out on the bathroom floor in the entry when I got there.”
“Then what was she doing there?” he asked.
“Another million dollar question.”
“You know, you don’t have to decide anything right now.”
“Yes, you’re right, I don’t,” I said.
The waitress returned to take our plates when Henri’s phone rang.
He answered it without even glancing to see who it was. Then again, he wasn’t trying to escape a lynch mob. “Yes, this is he,” he said.
“Thank you,” I told Veronica as she took my untouched salad away. My stomach was in knots and there was no way I could eat, but I couldn’t divulge that to Henri.
“Paris Holiday?” Henri asked.
I shook my head. Crap. Had I been tracked down to Henri’s phone? No freaking way. I leaned over the table and whispered, “Tell whoever it is, you don’t know where I am.”
His face turned white and he swallowed in fear. “Yes, I understand. Hold on, she’s right here.”
What the hell?
He covered the speaker and whispered, “It’s for you.”
“Tell whoever it is I’m not here,” I snapped.
He shook his head. “It’s Tabitha Dane and she threatened to cut my balls into a million tiny pieces and feed them to me spoonful by spoonful if I lied.”
Seriously, how could I not laugh?
To save his manhood, I took the phone. “Hi, Tabitha.”
“Don’t you hi Tabitha me! Where are you? Are you okay? I’ve been worried sick. And I’m so sorry to hear about your father.”
My stomach dropped with the heavy guilt that lined it. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m sorry but I’m fine. I’m in St. Helena.”
“Then why aren’t you answering your phone?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Because I know everyone is calling me to get me to forgive Tyler, and I can’t. Not this time.”
Her voice lowered. “Listen to me. You have it all wrong.”
“Please, Tabitha, don’t. This is why I didn’t want to talk to anyone.”
Henri took the check when the waitress set it on the table. “I’ll go pay this and meet you outside,” he whispered.
I nodded and mouthed. “Thank you.”
Tabitha sighed over the line. “I get what you’re saying but please, let me meet you somewhere and explain.”
I bit down my resentment and huffed, “Fine. I’ll be hiding away in my office at Highway 128. You can meet me there.”
“Give me an hour to get Emerson fed and Grayson settled with her,” she said, and hung up.
Setting my undrunk glass of wine down, I thought about tucking the almost-full bottle in my purse because I might need it.
Meeting her was so not a good idea on any level. First, I was going to a place I wasn’t supposed to be seen at, and second, I was meeting with someone I knew would be going to bat for Tyler Holiday.
That was two strikes.
And I had a feeling the third wasn’t far away.
Paris
> I SAID GOODBYE to Henri.
Fabian was waiting for him outside the restaurant to drive him home. They both tried to convince me to go back to L.A. with the two of them.
I politely declined.
My life was here, now, and I had to face it. Whatever it was.
I took my time walking down Main Street, glancing in windows, looking at the restaurants, watching the people on the street.
What was I doing?
When I passed the Cupcakery, I decided an apology treat was in order for my meeting with Tabitha. After buying a box of delicious little cakes and two hot teas, I took a deep breath of the crisp winter air and then headed for the tasting room.
I walked into the club with my heart in my throat. I wished I’d put some makeup on, brushed my hair, and changed my clothes. Instead, I’d left my face bare, wore my locks in a messy bun, and donned a pair of leggings.
The staff couldn’t have cared less.
They all greeted me like they always had, with a shrug and a polite hello. Like the party girl had come to party in her pajamas and it was no big deal. I realized then that I wasn’t a part of this place. I had created it, yes, but I had never really been here, and that my recent absence had gone unnoticed.
In truth, I wasn’t a part of anything.
I wanted to change that.
I wanted to change a lot.
When I opened my office door, Tabitha sprung to her feet. I barely emptied my hands onto the table between the two guest chairs before she swept me into her arms, squeezing the breath out of me.
Maybe I was a part of something, after all.
“Hi.” I wriggled out of her grasp so I could get some air in my lungs.
She pulled back. “I can’t believe you disappeared on me like that,” she scowled.
“I’m sorry.” I took her hand and squeezed it. “I just couldn’t talk about what happened.”
“I get it, but you know you’re my friend, too, not just Tyler. Right?” She held my hand, tight, and gave me a look. “Women have to stick together.”
Already past the point of being emotional, I nodded to avoid any more leaking tears. When I knew I was safe from crying, I pointed to the pink box I’d set on the table. “I brought you something.”
With a huge grin, she said, “Oh, my God, cupcakes, I forgive you already.” And then she bent over, opened the lid, smiled, sniffed, and plucked a chocolate one out.
The moment she took her first bite, I knew things were indeed okay between us.
After setting the scrumptious treat down, she clapped her hands together. “Good, now that that is settled, take your coat off and have a seat, we have a lot to discuss.”
Twenty minutes later, I found myself sitting across from Tabitha. I was in the guest chair and she was leaning against my desk, all I am woman hear me roar.
My mouth was agape. “Are you serious? Christian wants to divorce Lane?’
She used her finger to scoop some icing from her cupcake and licked it off. “Yep. He told her today that he’s in love with Sophie Barton.”
“Wow, I can’t believe that.”
“It wasn’t a total shocker to Lane. I guess she already suspected something.”
“She did?”
Tabitha nodded. “At first she thought Christian and Sophie were only working together but things started to add up fast.”
“Still,” I mused. “She must have been upset.”
“Oh, she’s pissed as hell. He violated their contract and he’s going to pay dearly for it.”
I blinked in surprise. “Really? She’s going after his money?”
She nodded. “Found an attorney from the city. But that’s Lane for you. She might be my best friend, but she’s a total bitch.”
I said no more about that.
Tabitha smiled and brought a second cupcake to her lips. “So, now that the slutty Sophie experience has been explained, you can go home to Tyler, right?”
I took a sip of my tea, contemplating what this meant for Tyler and me. Although I felt relief, it wasn’t enough. I shook my head. “No, I don’t think so.”
She finished chewing before she spoke. “Why not?”
“I’m not sure we’re right for each other.”
“You most certainly are.”
I shook my head. “No, we’re not. I’m safe and he’s anything but.”
She shrugged. “That can be exciting sometimes.”
“Not when your heart is on the line.”
With a confused look on her face, she said, “But you love him?”
“I do.”
“So you’re afraid?”
“I guess I am. He’s too much of a wildcard.”
“He has always been a bit reckless. Yes. But I have to say, I think you’ve tamed him quite a bit and it’s only been two weeks. Imagine what more time will do,” she said with a smile.
“Or what it won’t do. I just can’t take any more disappointment in my life.”
She got the oddest twinkle in her eyes. “Then divorce him.”
I shook my head and my heart broke into even more pieces. “I don’t want that either.”
She raised a cupcake. “Then the only solution is for you to have your cake and eat it too.”
I made a complete face of confusion.
“Do you trust me?” she asked.
“Sure, I guess I do.”
“Well, that wasn’t exactly convincing, but I’ll take it. So, as your lawyer, I’ll need a copy of your marriage contract before I can do anything.”
I furrowed my brows. “But you don’t practice anymore.”
“For you, I’ll come out of retirement. Now, just to be clear, you want him to remain your husband, but only if he can prove to you that he’s changed,” she said, twisting her lip as she spoke.
I swirled the liquid in the cup. “Yes, I suppose I never really thought he cheated with Sophie. He was way too hungover for that.”
“Yeah, the whole getting it up thing.”
I narrowed my gaze at her.
“What?” she shrugged, “I’m just saying in general when someone is that drunk, it’s a problem.”
All I could do was shake my head. “His behavior is the real problem. He’s a fly off the cuff, drown in self-pity, destructive kind of guy, and I can’t sit back and watch him implode.”
“Then we’ll change him.”
I laughed. “You can’t change people just like that.”
“Sure, you can.” She took another bite of her cupcake and a crumb fell. She caught it before it hit the floor.
Curious, I set my cup down and straightened my posture. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“It’s easy. We show him what he’ll be missing if he doesn’t get his shit together.”
I furrowed my brows. “And how exactly do we do that?”
Tabitha’s eyes scoured me from tip to toe. She bit her nail. Tapped her chin. And then she pranced from the desk to the chair beside me and sat down. “You go after his balls, his dick, and his heart, all at once.”
I think my mouth fell open. “Ouch . . . that sounds painful,” I winced.
She smiled. “For him, it will be. Now listen—”
And I did . . . to every word.
Tyler
FOR SOME REASON I found myself wondering if I shouldn’t be nicer to the old bitty, so I walked her to the guesthouse.
The air was chilly. “Do you want me to bring your coffee maker over?” I asked, shoving my hands in my pockets.
She unlocked the door. “I’ve already got one over here. And Tyler, just because I like fine coffee doesn’t mean you can’t.”
I ran a hand ran over my short beard. “Did you forget your medication today?”
Her scowl was all too familiar. “I don’t take medication, and you know it.”
“Then what the hell are you talking about, old lady?”
Stepping inside, she flicked a light on. “You don’t want to like anything I do, I know that, but I can see h
ow much you enjoy the flavor of fine coffee every time you take a sip. So keep it. Enjoy it.”
I mused over her words and then turned on my heels to leave. Okay, so maybe I did like it.
“Tyler,” she called.
I glanced over my shoulder.
“Whatever you did to piss your wife off, fix it.”
“How do you know I did anything?”
“That’s easy. She’s not home and you are,” Wilhelmina said and closed the door before I could say another word.
I was glad the truth about our bloodline wasn’t going to change our relationship.
The Wicked Witch of the West turned Glenda was way too freaky for me.
Nope, there was no reason to be nicer, after all.
Paris
I WASN’T ONE-HUNDRED percent comfortable with the plan, but my attorney was.
At precisely seven twenty-one the next morning, she stormed through the house like a bull terrier and I sheepishly followed.
Tyler came out of the living room, stretching as if he’d fallen asleep on the couch. “Paris,” he said, his voice cracking with anguish.
The first thing my eyes went to was his tattoo. The one that mimicked California Jane’s label.
Tabitha approached him and jabbed her finger into his bare chest. “Rule number one,” she said, “You’re to be clothed at all times.”
He shook his head and his hair fell over his eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”
She stuck her manicured fingers out behind her and I hurried to her side in my obnoxiously high heels to give her what she wanted. “This is an addendum to your marriage contract.”
Catching his expression when he scanned my more than perfectly made up body, I was helpless not to stare. I had once again been polished and shined and dressed up, but this time, Tabitha took it to a whole new level.
No longer was I just leather and lace. This time I was enticement. Sin. Destruction in high heels. Actually, even I had to admit, I looked badass, like her.
Tabitha snapped her fingers. “Read this, party boy.”
I knew the moment he read the title of the document. “Ten ways to avoid a quickie divorce.”
His eyebrows rose in curiosity, in question. “What’s this about?”