My Best Friend's Ex (Daring Divorcees)

by Shannyn Schroeder

  “Hey, Callie. Where are you? I stopped by because your car is out front, but you’re not home.”

  “I just landed in Italy.”

  “What?”

  “Remember the job offer I told you about? I agreed to take an in-person meeting with the travel company and take some local shots to see how well we work together.”

  “Wow.”

  She couldn’t interpret the single word, so she forged ahead. “How are things there?”

  “Same as always.”

  “How’s Evan?”

  Hannah laughed. “He was hurting so bad this morning. Every noise made him cringe. So you know I had to be extra loud. And of course, I needed to practice my sax.”

  Callie smiled. “Of course, you had to practice.”

  “It was my duty. When are you coming home?”

  “Home.” That word was one she had no problem interpreting. In years past, Hannah would ask when she’d be coming back. Never home. Then again, she hadn’t treated it much like home. Until recently. “I’m not sure. A couple weeks?”

  Unless they wanted to hire her for an extended project. They’d originally wanted to book her for a three-week tour, and last night she’d convinced them that photos from their home city of Rome could be enough of a test.

  “Hey, do you think if you’re going to be longer than that I could come meet you? I could be your assistant or something.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. I don’t think your dad would go for it.”

  “That’s just because he worries. I bet you could talk him into it.”

  Callie’s heart sank. If only Hannah knew how little sway Callie held with her father. She swallowed against the lump in her throat. “I don’t think he wants to hear anything from me right now.”

  “He’s dumb,” Hannah said sadly.

  “No, he’s not.”

  “Yeah, he is. I heard what he said to you. I told him he doesn’t deserve you.”

  Callie’s eyes filled. “Thanks for standing up for me, but I don’t want you to do that. It’ll drive a wedge between you and your dad. I don’t want to be the cause of that.”

  “You’re not. He is being dumb.”

  Callie knew when an argument wasn’t going to move. “I’m almost to my hotel. I just wanted to call and let you know where I am. I’ll call you later in the week, okay?”

  “Okay. Be safe and have fun.”

  “Good night.”

  “Don’t forget my postcard.”

  “Do I ever?” Ever since Hannah was old enough to look at a map to see where Callie was traveling, Callie had sent her postcards. Hannah had a wall in her room decorated with the cards. It had become their thing. She wondered if Trevor was aware of his daughter’s desire to travel. She’d probably get the blame for that, too. “Bye,” she said before disconnecting.

  At the hotel, Callie checked in and fell into bed. Her eyes were gritty and her throat sore. She wanted to blame it on the long flight, but she knew her emotions were tearing her apart. Tomorrow would be better.

  The following morning, Callie didn’t feel any better. She’d tossed and turned as her mind raced. Trevor hadn’t made any attempt to contact her. He might not even know she was gone. That hurt almost as much as his accusations last night. Two nights ago? Damn. She was a mess.

  She readied herself for her meeting. Victoria, who was her point of contact at the company, planned to give her a small tour, and then they’d meet with the heads of all the departments to discuss what they were looking for. Callie certainly hoped they had more specifics than wanting pictures for each tour.

  Armed with her small camera and a notebook, she left the hotel. She should’ve stopped for breakfast, but food held no appeal. Coffee, on the other hand, was a necessity, so she walked down the block, sure she’d find somewhere to get her morning caffeine. The hotel Victoria had booked for her was within walking distance of the office, so Callie had time to wander a little before her meeting.

  She’d been to Rome before, but not often enough that she knew her way around. The first time she’d come, she’d stumbled through the streets with a paper map in hand that had gotten her lost more often than not. Callie laughed at the memory as she typed the address of the office into her phone’s GPS. Life was so different than it had been back then.

  At twenty-five, the thought of landing in one place and staying forever had freaked her out. She’d watched Lisa fall in love and create a family, and while Callie could appreciate Lisa’s life, she couldn’t wait to escape. Standing on the corner, enjoying the extra strong coffee, Callie thought back over her trips.

  Some of the longest trips she’d ever taken away from Chicago had coincided with major events in Lisa’s life: marriage, kids, divorce. It hadn’t been that Callie had avoided her friend’s life. She thought she’d been there for Lisa, but something about the reality—no, the finality—of what Lisa was signing on for had driven Callie out of town. Every time.

  The realization turned the bitter coffee sour in her stomach. Had she been a bad friend? Lisa had never said anything.

  Pinching the bridge of her nose to stop tears from forming, she whispered to no one, “I wish you were here. You’d tell me what the hell is going on with me.”

  Then Callie laughed. She was talking to her dead best friend. Lisa was probably looking at her like she was nuts. She’d fallen for Lisa’s ex-husband. Like in deep love. How the hell had that happened?

  Laughter echoed behind her, and Callie could’ve sworn it was Lisa’s laugh, but when she turned, she saw no one. Great. Now I’m going crazy. Insane or not, given her situation, she could totally see Lisa laughing at her. Dumping her cup into a trash can, she turned to head to the tour company. Time to see if this was a job she really wanted.

  …

  Trevor had risen early and gone to work without waking Evan. He knew better than to even try. As far as he knew, this was the first time Evan had gotten drunk. The hangover might be harsh, and Trevor knew enough about himself to know he might not be kind.

  He’d worked hard all day but checked in with Hannah to see how Evan was doing. Based on the texts she’d sent, Evan might’ve been better off coming to work. Trevor enjoyed Hannah’s torment a little too much. Hopefully, Evan would learn his lesson.

  He picked up a pizza for dinner. As he parked his truck, he saw Evan’s crappy car across the street. Then he eyed Callie’s car. He knew he needed to talk to her. He’d spent the night and the entire day thinking about her. Thinking about her and the kids and all of them together. He came to the conclusion that what he wanted was for them to be a family.

  But Karl’s words stuck in his head. Trevor didn’t know exactly what he was willing to do. He wasn’t trying to be a tyrant controlling everything. He had no idea what he was doing with Hannah and Evan. He was so afraid of screwing them up that he had to be in charge.

  With pizza in hand, he climbed the steps to the house, feeling the weight of everything in his life. He set the pizza on the table and went upstairs. He knocked on Hannah’s door and told her pizza was downstairs. Then he went to Evan’s room and knocked.

  “Come in.”

  Trevor pushed through the door and strode in. He sat on the edge of the bed, and Evan paused the video game he was playing without even being asked. Looked like the kid had a brain in his head.

  “How’d your car get back here?”

  “I took the bus and brought it home.” His son looked at the floor and said, “I’m sorry about last night. But at least I didn’t drive. I know better than that.”

  “That’s the only reason you still have a car.” Trevor’s voice was stiff, another reminder of his discomfort and knowledge that he was clueless. “Was it the first time?”

  Evan’s eyes met his. “What?”

  “Drinking? Getting drunk?”

  Evan shook his head, and Trevor’s muscles tightened. “How many times?”

  Evan lifted a shoulder.

  Trevor closed his eyes and thought
. “This isn’t about getting in trouble with me. I’m trying to wrap my head around this. How often have you been drinking?”

  “Just at parties and stuff. Not a lot.”

  He asked the question he didn’t really want the answer to. “Did your mom know?”

  “She caught me a couple times, noticed when I’d been drinking after hanging out with friends. She grounded me. I figured you knew.”

  Trevor shook his head. “She never told me.” He sighed. “Probably because of the way I reacted last night.” He leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. “I need you to understand where I’m coming from.”

  “I know, Dad. You can’t drink. But…”

  “You’re not me,” Trevor finished for him. “The thing is, that’s the same thing I said when I was your age. I know you don’t remember my dad. He died when you were too young. But he was an alcoholic, too. Drank pretty much every day of my life. I convinced myself that I would never be him.”

  Trevor’s throat was tight. With the exception of Lisa and Karl, he’d never talked to anyone about this. “When I was a little older than you, I played in a band. Our gigs were mostly in bars. It was a natural thing to stay after our sets and have a few drinks. That’s where I met your mom. She came to one of our shows. And then another.”

  Evan leaned forward, his full attention on Trevor. “What happened?”

  “Everything. Things were good, except when they weren’t. I drank as a crutch. Didn’t get a gig we wanted? Got drunk. Stressed-out wife at home? Got drunk. Lost a job? Got drunk.”

  Evan nodded. “Got dumped by a girl and watched her with another guy at a party? Got drunk.”

  Trevor stared at his son. Callie had said Evan had a hard night, but he hadn’t listened. “I didn’t know. Why didn’t you say something?”

  “What was I gonna say? We broke up.”

  “If something’s bothering you, you should be able to talk to me. It helps.”

  Evan smiled. “Like you talk?”

  Trevor straightened. “I’ll have you know that I have people I talk to when something’s bothering me. Last night I talked to Karl, my sponsor. Other times, I talk to Nina, Tess, Gabe, Evelyn, or Owen. And there’s Jerry at work.”

  “And Callie,” Evan added.

  Since he wasn’t sure where he stood with Callie, he felt guilty even thinking about her as someone he could count on. “The point is I have a lot of people to lean on. You’re my kid, so I’m not supposed to confide in you. But you should talk to me.”

  “Okay.”

  “As far as the drinking goes, I can’t allow it. You know that. Besides the fact that it’s illegal because you’re underage, it makes things too hard for me. I’m not saying that you’ll cause me to fall off the wagon, but I’d rather not take any chances. When I go out and I know I’ll be around people who are drinking, I mentally prepare myself. I go to an extra meeting. I have a plan in place. You stumbling in drunk isn’t something I can plan for.”

  “Why can’t you just stop?” Evan looked straight into his eyes, and Trevor saw he wanted honesty.

  “I wish I could. I know you know it’s a disease, but saying that doesn’t help. Alcohol is something that pulls me in with lies. There’s no such thing as a taste or a drink. It hits my body, and then I’m telling myself if one was good, two will be better. In the moment, that’s all that matters.” He stood and walked across the room, toying with the crap Evan kept on his dresser.

  He wasn’t very good at explaining what the addiction was like. His muscles were tight, and his stomach rolled over. But he knew giving Evan this might save them all a lot of grief later. “Alcohol lies. Your body craves it, but your mind believes it’s doing good. It takes away the pain.”

  Evan scoffed. “Yeah, till the next morning.”

  “Even then, there are excuses. You’ll tell yourself anything just to make it okay to drink again.” He turned back to Evan. “I’ve been sober for years, but there are still days that I want a beer. Want it so bad I can taste it.”

  “What do you do?”

  “Find something to occupy myself until it passes. Sometimes it’s a meeting. Sometimes it’s the heavy bag in the basement. It took a long time for me to realize it would pass. That I could find a better outlet.”

  Evan leaned back in his chair and studied him. Trevor didn’t know what else to say. He desperately wanted his son to agree to never drink again, but he knew it was an unrealistic wish.

  “Thanks for being honest.”

  “All that being said, you’re still grounded.”

  “What?”

  Evan’s indignant posturing was for show. Trevor knew he was doing it because it was expected.

  “A week. No friends. Extra chores.”

  “I did what I’m supposed to do. I called for a ride instead of driving.”

  “Like I said, it’s the only reason you still have that car. What you were supposed to do was not drink. For the record, I’m the one you should’ve called.”

  “I called Callie because I knew she wouldn’t give me a hard time and you would. I already felt like shit. I didn’t want it to get worse.”

  Trevor’s heart sank. “I’m trying. I’m going to get mad when you do stupid shit. But we have to be able to count on each other.”

  Evan sank back in his chair. “I was counting on Callie to not rat me out.”

  Trevor smiled and patted Evan’s shoulder. “It might’ve worked if I hadn’t been home.”

  “Nah. I tried. She told me she couldn’t keep it from you.”

  The admission made Trevor feel worse. Callie did have his back. “Pizza’s downstairs if you’re hungry.”

  “Be there in a few.” He returned to his game, and Trevor watched him play for a minute. Then he went downstairs.

  His conversation with Evan had been difficult, but not nearly as bad as he’d imagined. Evan had made him pay attention to a couple things he’d been ignoring: one, he did lean on Callie, and two, he loved the fact that his kids knew she was on their side. He wanted his kids to have as many people in their corner as possible. He’d been an ass for the way he’d treated Callie.

  She’d been putting the kids first. His kids. It wasn’t something she had to do. She did it because she loved them. Not once had she kept anything from him. She’d done things to help lighten his load, and she’d asked for nothing in return.

  Man, he’d truly fucked this up. He just hoped he wasn’t too late to fix it. He had his answer for Karl’s questions. He’d do whatever he needed to keep Callie in his life.

  As he crossed through the kitchen, he saw Hannah at the table chomping on a slice of pizza and scrolling through her phone. Trevor didn’t bother to interrupt her. He continued walking out the back door and across the yard. He needed to talk to Callie.

  He knocked on her door and waited. He’d left his keys in the kitchen by the pizza. She wouldn’t want him using his key to barge in anyway. He knocked again, louder, in case she was working. He’d seen her get so lost in thought while studying pictures that the rest of the world ceased to exist.

  The back door on the house opened. “She’s not home,” Hannah called.

  “Her car’s out front.”

  “She’s in Italy. Didn’t you know?”

  Italy? Fuck. She took the travel agency job. The one that would keep her away for a year. His heart raced and his vision clouded. He closed his eyes and focused. He couldn’t fall apart. Hannah was watching. He sucked in enough air to fill his chest and reopened his eyes.

  Then he turned to go back into the house.

  “She’s in Rome, but she said she might be back in a couple weeks.”

  “Oh,” was all he could say. He wanted to rage and scream, mostly at his own stupidity, but it wouldn’t help. “When did you talk to her?”

  “Earlier today. She’s there for a job.”

  He climbed the steps and joined Hannah on the porch.

  “It sounds like a really cool job.”

  He sl
id his arm around his daughter’s shoulders and turned her to go back in. “I’m sure it is.”

  He couldn’t muster even fake enthusiasm for the job that might take Callie away for good. His entire body felt raw and exposed, irritated. He mumbled good night to Hannah and went to his room, trying to figure out the time difference between Chicago and Italy.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Italy was beautiful. Everywhere Callie turned, it was impossible to take a bad picture. Who wouldn’t want to come here on vacation? The downside to negotiating a trial run in the same city as the home office of the agency was that they kept calling her in to various meetings.

  The CFO wanted to talk budget. The marketing team always had another question or idea. She’d been in town for four days. Four days, ten hours, and thirty-two minutes. Not that she was counting. Right now, she was trying to enjoy a quiet evening at an outdoor café away from the suits and charts and wheeled office chairs.

  Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at the screen without picking it up. Trevor. Again. He’d called eleventy billion times, but had yet to leave a voicemail. It had been more than five days since they’d spoken. Five days since he’d accused her of getting Evan drunk, or at least allowing it. Five days since he’d reminded her, again, that she continuously crossed the line with his kids. She still didn’t have a clue what that meant.

  Her heart hurt every time she thought about it. About him. About home. She knew she hadn’t done anything wrong, so she should feel angry. But the ache of loneliness washed away everything else. What did that say about her?

  The worst part was that she didn’t know what to do. She’d always been sure of herself and her path. She saw what she wanted and went after it. This job was everything she’d ever looked for as a travel photographer, but her brain was preoccupied with thoughts of Trevor and the kids.

  She missed having dinner and watching TV with them. She missed hearing about Hannah’s day at band camp and what silly things the cute boy said to her. She missed listening to Trevor and Evan tease each other over something that had happened at work. It had only been five days. What would she be like if she took this job and traveled for months at a time?