After I’m dropped off at home—we go for lunch first—I call back the top potential candidates to replace me as my dad’s assistant, narrow it down to three, and schedule in-person interviews for when my dad gets back from the away series.
I’d do all the interviewing myself, but I know my dad, and he’ll want to be part of the process, especially since it will be him working with whoever gets hired.
The team is scheduled to return this evening, and as much as I’d like to spend the night with Kingston, I have to be at my lawyer’s office early tomorrow morning so we can sign the paperwork and make the divorce final.
Kingston calls as I’m getting ready for bed, on a video chat. Based on his current state of dress and the fact that I’m propped up on his folding table and he’s unloading his duffle directly into the washing machine, he just got home. It means my dad will also be home soon.
“How’s my queen?” His gaze moves over me, a slow sweep that heats as he takes in my bedtime attire.
“Good, tired, missing my king.” We are so cheesy, and I am totally okay with that.
“I miss your lips.”
“Which set?” I am totally using sex to deflect all the other anxieties that are currently eating at me.
A half smirk curves the corner of his mouth, and his tongue peeks out to touch the chip in his front tooth. It’s a completely subconscious action that I find incredibly sexy for whatever reason. “Both, actually. I could come to you. I don’t have to stay the night. I can drop by for an hour, kiss those pretty lips of yours.”
“Both sets, obviously.”
“Mmm. I’d divide my time equally, so neither feels underappreciated.”
I laugh breathily. “I would honestly love that, but if you’re home, that means my dad will be home soon, and we have to go to the lawyer’s tomorrow morning. And let’s be real: nothing ever lasts just an hour with you, especially when you’ve been away for four days.”
He frowns and taps his lips, the lust in his eyes fading quickly. “I could come with you to the lawyer’s in the morning. I should be there.”
I make a face. “I’m not sure I’d agree with that. As much as I appreciate your support, I need to do it on my own. My dad is driving me there, but he’s not coming in when I sign the papers. I need to see this through, and I can’t imagine Corey being anything but an antagonistic ass no matter what, but he’ll be a million times worse if you’re there with me.”
He seems to want to fight me on it for a few seconds, but eventually he says, “I guess I can see your point. And if he’s a jerk, I’ll want to punch him, and that will make things even worse.”
“Punching him would feel good, but yeah, it definitely wouldn’t help the situation.”
“Will you call as soon as you’re done and tell me how it went?”
“Of course.”
He nods, resolute. “Okay. I miss you. I need to find a way to get some alone time in with you, regardless of whether my family is in town or not. How are you feeling about meeting them tomorrow?”
“Honestly? Nervous.” I’d like to say I’ll feel better when the divorce is final and King’s no longer dating a married woman, but I’m not sure even that is going to settle my mind or my nerves.
“It’s going to be great, Queenie. Momster is so excited to meet you in person.”
“I’m excited to meet her too.” And I am.
The flash of headlights in the driveway draws my attention. “My dad just got home. I should probably let you go.”
“Okay.” He exhales a long breath. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
He smiles. “My favorite words from your lips. Sleep well. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”
“Me too.” It’s the rest of his family I’m not excited about.
“You’re sure you don’t want me to come in with you?” My dad taps restlessly on the steering wheel, gaze shifting between the lawyer’s office and me.
“I’m sure. I need to do this on my own, and it’s awkward enough for you having to deal with Corey on a business level; I’d prefer if my personal stuff doesn’t interfere more than it already has.”
“Yeah, well, if his train wreck of a fiancée could learn when to keep her damn mouth shut, we could’ve avoided a whole hell of a lot of unnecessary bullshit.”
He’s definitely not wrong about that. “He certainly knows how to pick ’em, doesn’t he?”
“Don’t do that, Queenie. You were eighteen years old, and you made a mistake that you tried to rectify, on your own, without support. It was one bad decision, and it doesn’t define who you are as a person.”
It’s not the one bad decision I made six years ago that’s the issue now; it’s that I’ve kept making decisions that haven’t gotten me any further away from the dependent part of my personality that I can’t seem to shake. But I’m trying to change that. Baby steps.
And doing this on my own is one more step in the right direction. I lean over and kiss him on the cheek. “I know. I appreciate you driving me here and being so supportive.”
I can tell he wants to say more, but I also know he wants to give me the chance to deal with this in my own way. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”
“You honestly don’t have to wait. I can Uber home.”
“Not a fucking chance, Queenie. If Corey pulls any bullshit, I’ll be right here.”
“I’ll be fine.” I shoulder my purse, checking again for the file folder. I’ve been doing that compulsively since I got in the car, as if it’s going to magically disappear and I’ll be married to Corey for the rest of my life.
Last night I had a dream that we were chained together and that our skin had started to fuse and I could never separate myself from him. I woke up screaming at four a.m. and did not go back to sleep. Hence I’m jittery, since I’ve had about seven cups of coffee.
Corey ends up being twenty minutes late, which is not a surprise. He also brings his fiancée along.
“Is the entourage necessary?” I ask as he drops down into one of the chairs at the table, not bothering to pull out a chair for Sissy.
“I want to read everything over to make sure you’re not trying to take my baby’s money,” she snaps.
I roll my eyes. “All I wanted six years ago was to separate myself from him completely, and if Corey hadn’t messed it up by not paying the damn filing fee, we wouldn’t be sitting here at all—”
“Ha!” Sissy barks out a fake laugh. “Of course you’re trying to make it Corey’s fault! We all know that it was you who took off without making sure the papers were properly filed. And he told me it was you who didn’t pay the fee, not him!”
Of course he’s spun it so it’s on me and not him.
“Is that what he told you?” I wave my own question away. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. You’ll find out soon enough what you’re getting yourself into.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Corey clears his throat, looking somewhere between annoyed and uneasy. “She’s trying to get under your skin, Sissy. Maybe you wanna go get yourself a coffee or something?” He pulls his wallet out of his back pocket and peels off a hundred-dollar bill.
Sissy snatches his entire wallet and pulls out a handful of bills, then tosses it on the table. “Coffee makes me have to pee. I’m going to Saks. Pick me up when you’re done.” She waddle-flounces out of the room.
“Hope you got a prenup.” I turn back to the lawyer, whose time we’re wasting. “Okay, let’s make sure this is done correctly this time so I don’t end up smeared all over the news for keeping you ‘tied down’ for another six years.” I make air quotes at Corey.
“You’re the one who ran away.” He takes the papers his attorney’s given him and flips through. “Whoa, hold on a second here. What’s this about a hundred K? I’m not giving you shit.”
“You might want to reconsider that, Corey, since you’re the reason we’re still married, and your fiancée launched an unfou
nded public smear campaign, which means I can no longer work for the team.”
“That doesn’t mean you deserve money!”
I snort, because that’s an epic joke. “The crap I’m dealing with as a result is the opposite of wonderful. The ironic thing is, if your fiancée didn’t air our dirty laundry to anyone who would listen, I would’ve signed these papers and asked for nothing. But now, after all this, asking for a hundred thousand dollars is small in comparison. I’m sure you can spare it from your endless bank account to help right your wrongs.” He opens his mouth to speak, and I hold up a finger. “Choose your words carefully, Corey, particularly in front of our lawyers. Do not think for a second that you can push me around or belittle me. I am not an eighteen-year-old girl anymore, and your BS isn’t something I intend to deal with ever again, after today. Remember, we’ve been ‘married’”—I use air quotes again for emphasis—“for six years, and we did not have a prenup. My lawyer told me I could technically go after half of your income from all those years if I wanted to. So do not push me.”
He has a whispered conversation with his lawyer, frowning the entire time. Eventually he huffs a breath. “Fine. You can have a hundred K: that’s chump change for me. Don’t spend it all on new tits.”
“Wow. You are absolutely disgusting. Good to see some things don’t change.” I scribble my signature on every page, slide them aggressively toward Corey, and slam the pen down in front of him, wishing I could stab him in the hand.
I wait until Corey signs each page, which takes forever since he writes like a six-year-old who’s half-asleep. Then he wire transfers the money directly to my account while my lawyer’s paralegal makes a copy of the papers for me. I gather my things and push away from the table, shaking the lawyer’s hand. “Thank you for freeing me from the shackles of misery.”
“You’re welcome.” He fights to hide a smile.
I hightail it out of the office and speed walk as calmly as I can down the hall. I just want to get as far away from Corey as possible.
“You still think your Boy Scout is gonna want my used goods?” he calls out after me.
I want to turn around and kick him in the balls, but we’re in a law office, and that would be grounds for some kind of charges, so instead I ignore him and keep walking.
I know I’ve made the right decision. While some may think I’m being opportunistic in asking him for that money, he cost me my job and a whole lot of dignity with the horrible things Sissy said about me. I have a right, after the public humiliation that follows me online and will probably follow me forever now. If anyone were to do a search of my name, they’d find this, and who knows what future damage that could cause.
I push through the door and step out into the cold, rainy day. I don’t run across the lot in a bid to outrun Corey, because he’s definitely faster than me, and also, running is exactly what he wants me to do. So I pop my umbrella, almost hitting Corey in the face with one of the sharp ends, and begin a leisurely saunter across the lot.
“Your Boy Scout coming to pick you up?” he mutters, then spots my dad’s car. “Or has he already dumped your crazy ass, and now you’re gonna live in your daddy’s pool house forever?”
I spin on my heel and tip my chin up so I can look him in the eye. “I wonder how you’d feel if you had a daughter and you heard someone speaking to her the way you are to me, right now. I hope Sissy has a girl, and I hope you actually give a shit about her so you’ll understand what it’s like to legitimately want to protect someone from others’ harm. I will never understand why you need to constantly tear people down to make yourself feel better about who you are.”
I don’t wait for him to process that comment, because I’m not sure he actually can. The driver’s side door of my dad’s car opens, and I physically feel Corey back off. The air is suddenly lighter, and it’s not such a struggle to move.
My dad rounds the hood, glancing in Corey’s direction. “You okay?”
“Fine. Good. Let’s just go.”
He opens the passenger-side door for me, and I slide into the seat.
“Queenie.” He’s gripping the frame of the car like he wants to tear something apart. Namely Corey.
I meet his gaze. “It’s done. I can’t move on if you can’t, so please, let it go.”
He exhales a breath through his nose but does what I ask. It isn’t until we leave the parking lot and are headed back toward my dad’s place that I allow all the emotions I’ve been holding on to out.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? What happened?” My dad glances at me and back at the road as he reaches across the center console to squeeze my hand.
“I’m just relieved it’s over. That’s all. I want to be able to move forward, and having this whole thing hanging over my head this past week has made that impossible. Like there’s been a weight on my chest, and I can’t breathe.”
“I think it might be similar to how I felt when your mother finally signed over full custody. My whole life felt like it was suspended until that moment, so I get it, Queenie. I’m so sorry that you had to go through this at all.”
“Well, it’s done now, so we can leave it in the past, where it belongs.” I tap on the armrest, gathering my courage. “I asked for money and I got it. Not a lot. I mean, it’s a lot for me but not for him. I can pay for college now. I can finish my degree, and you won’t have to worry about helping me financially.”
“You didn’t have to do that. I will always be here to support you.”
“I know. But he owed me after everything that happened, and I know that you’ll never tell me I can’t come back and work for you, but I don’t think I should. I love you for helping pick me up every time I fall, Dad, but this was always supposed to be temporary. It’s too many layers of complication: for you, for me, for Kingston.”
“I understand, and I think it’s brave and ballsy of you to go in there on your own and face that douchebag. If I could take back bringing him on the team, I would.”
My dad drops me off at home, and I message Kingston to let him know everything went okay this morning before I tackle the slew of messages in my group chat with Stevie, Lainey, and Violet. Never in my life did I think that sending a message announcing my official divorcée status would garner so much excitement.
Things are finally looking up.
CHAPTER 27
UNPLEASANT SURPRISES
Kingston
Queenie messaged to say she was home from the lawyer’s and that she is no longer married. So I’m standing outside her door with a bouquet of flowers, a box of chocolates, and a helium-filled unicorn balloon that reads CONGRATULATIONS. Seems appropriate, all things considered. Besides, she and I both need a little levity after this crap situation.
She throws open the door. “Hey, hi.” Queenie looks beautiful, exhausted, and nervous.
“How’s my queen?”
All the relief that comes with seeing her disappears when her chin quivers and her eyes pool with tears. She lifts her shoulder in a wordless shrug. I drop the flowers and chocolate on the closest available surface, which happens to be her clean counter.
I open my arms and Queenie steps into me, her low, soft sob getting muffled by my shirt. I hold her against me, cupping the back of her head, and drop my mouth so it’s at her ear. “What’s wrong; what happened? How can I fix it?”
“You’ve already fixed it: you’re here.”
After a few minutes of just holding her, I cup her face in my palms and tip her chin up, brushing away the tears. “Why so sad?”
“Not sad.” She shakes her head. “Just emotional. I’m glad it’s over and happy you’re here.”
I brush my lips over hers. “That makes sense. So it’s official? The papers are all signed?”
“They are.”
“And Corey didn’t give you a hard time?”
“I held my own.” She smooths her hands over my chest. “I left tearstains and snot trails all over your polo.”
That’s not the
answer I’m looking for, and it’s clear she’s trying to distract me, but I don’t push because I know it’s been difficult for her.
“I always have an extra one in my car, so nothing to worry about.”
“Of course you do.” She laughs and then gives me a small, slightly sad and rueful smile. “You’re officially dating a divorcée.”
I tip her chin up. “I like it. Makes me feel like a rebel.”
This time her smile is genuine. She chuckles and shakes her head. “Only you, King.”
“I missed you.” I skim her throat, and her pulse hammers under my fingertips.
“Me too. I mean, I missed you, not myself.” She links her hands behind my neck, bringing her body flush with mine again. “I was worried this week.”
“About?”
“All the time you had to think while we were apart. I wasn’t sure if you’d come to your senses or not.” She huffs a laugh and looks away, so I can’t see her vulnerability. She doesn’t give me a chance to ask what she means. Instead she tugs on the back of my neck and brings my mouth to hers.
The kiss is soft for a few strokes of tongue before need takes hold. Her nails dig into my nape, and she moans into my mouth. I pick her up and deposit her on the counter. She lands on the box of chocolates, crushing the corner. I shove them out of the way and step between her legs.
“Thank you for the flowers and the chocolate.”
“You’re welcome,” I groan when she bites the edge of my jaw.
“And the . . . unicorn balloon? Does that say ‘Congratulations’?”
“They don’t have ‘Happy Divorce’ ones, interestingly enough.” I tug her blouse over her head. It’s pale green and pretty, as is the green lace bra underneath. I cup her breasts in my palms, then glance around the bungalow. The curtains are gauzy and not the best at keeping prying eyes from seeing things they shouldn’t. “Is Jake at the arena?”
“Yeah, he dropped me off and headed there right away. How long do you have before you have pregame skate?” She tugs my polo free of my khakis and goes to work on my belt.
A Secret for a Secret Page 22