The Clover Chapel

by Devney Perry

  I was actually surprised that Logan remembered her. They’d only met a couple of times and I recalled being a bit put off with how forward Alice had been toward him. At the time, I had thought it was only to gain access to the millions of dollars the Kendricks donated each year. But now I was wondering if her interest was more personal.

  “Yes, that Alice,” he said. “She’s been inviting me for years to her events. We always had conflicts in our schedules. But now that you’re in Montana, I was available.”

  “Well. Isn’t that convenient for her,” I muttered.

  “Jealous?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I admitted.

  “Good. That means you haven’t forgotten about me.”

  I smiled as he teased. “Will you be out late? I need to talk to you about something important.”

  “Probably. They’ve brought in a speaker from the foundation to try and separate us all from our money. I doubt I’ll make it home before midnight.”

  “Okay. Call me later? Tomorrow?” I asked as the background noise picked up.

  “Sure. Talk then,” he said and disconnected.

  I had really wanted to tell Logan about my marriage before my dinner with Nick. No such luck.

  Five minutes later, I was sitting across from my future ex-husband.

  And I was doing everything I could think of to distract myself from his handsome face until I could get my nerves to settle.

  “What are you doing?” Nick asked.

  “Well, this contraption is what they call a smart phone,” I said. “You aim this little circle thing around and then push this other little circle thing here and it takes this newfangled thing called a picture.”

  “Funny. Why?”

  “I’m going to email these and some of the exterior to my restaurant team. This would be a great theme for a New York City steakhouse.” I hoped that the photos would turn out in the dark setting.

  This was going to be the next theme for my Manhattan restaurant. I could already see my pretentious friends dressing up in their imposter cowboy boots and designer pearl-snapped Western shirts to eat a hundred-dollar steak.

  The interior was a dimly lit space with walls paneled in the same barnwood as the exterior. Chandeliers made of animal antlers hung from the wood-beamed ceiling and gave off a soft, yellow glow.

  We were seated at a booth upholstered in a deep maroon vinyl and the table was covered with charred cattle brands. I was glad for the high-backed booth seat, which would provide us privacy from eavesdropping neighbors.

  “Is that how you make your money? Through restaurants?” Nick asked.

  “No. I make my money from teaching.” My attorney’s warning was still fresh and I didn’t want to talk about money should our divorce get nasty.

  “Right,” he said, not believing me.

  We sat for a few moments in silence until our waitress arrived to deliver my red wine and Nick’s Coors Light. I was grateful to have the glass to hold and occupy my twitching fingers.

  “That guy who called you on Friday. Who is he?”

  “My boyfriend, Logan.”

  “Are you two serious?” he asked.

  “Yes. We lived together in New York.”

  “If you’re serious, why’d you leave him?” he asked.

  “It’s a long story, but it basically boils down to me needing to get out of the city. Logan just made partner at his law firm and he couldn’t jeopardize his career to follow me to the Wild West.”

  “Hmm,” he muttered.

  We sat in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes. I dutifully sipped my wine and studied the designs on the tabletop, avoiding eye contact with Nick.

  “Did you talk to your lawyer again?” he asked.

  “No, but I’ll touch base with him as he drafts our divorce papers. Once they’re complete, he can work directly with your attorney if you’d like. I’ll just need his or her name and phone number.”

  That got me another “hmm” before he drained the rest of his beer. He must have been a regular at The Black Bull because the waitress didn’t bother asking if he wanted another, she just brought it over.

  “Why’d you wait?” Nick asked.

  “Wait for what?”

  “To get a divorce,” he said.

  I pulled in a deep breath. Admitting to Nick why I had held onto our marriage for this long was not going to be easy. “I didn’t want to dissolve the marriage on terms of abandonment. My foolish pride wouldn’t let me. So I hired a private investigator to track you down. Did you know there are 723 Nick Slaters living in Colorado and not one of them is you?”

  He didn’t respond. He just tipped his head down to study his fresh beer.

  “And I wanted to know why,” I said. “Why you put on such a convincing show. All those dares and sweet words. I’ve never met a man who could let lies roll off his tongue so easily. And that’s saying something, considering my father and all of his associates are world-class deceivers.”

  He flinched and his eyes snapped to mine. “I told you earlier today, Emmy. I didn’t lie to you.”

  I took a deep breath. Stay strong. This hurt act of his was just that. An act. I was the wronged party here and the last thing I needed was to fall for more of Nick’s lies. To lose my nerve.

  “Then why have I spent tens of thousands of dollars on a private investigator to find you? You were not living in Colorado.”

  “When we met, I was,” he said. “Shortly after, I wasn’t. I moved here a few months after Vegas.”

  More lies. The blood started to boil in my veins. “I started looking for you immediately, Nick. You. Weren’t. There.”

  “Calm down,” he said.

  “Calm down?” I hissed. “Explain why they couldn’t find you. Now.”

  Though I was seething, Nick kept his composure. In fact, the madder I got, the more his face gentled.

  “My first name isn’t Nick. It’s Draven. My father is Draven Sr., and I’ve gone by my middle name, Nicholas, my whole life. I’m sure your investigators didn’t look for a Draven Slater living in Colorado. If they had, they would have found me.”

  “Then we’re not even married. If you didn’t put your legal name on our marriage certificate, all that time spent looking for you was for nothing.”

  “I did put my legal name on the certificate. You just weren’t paying attention. You were too busy looking all over the chapel.”

  Shit.

  My private investigator had swindled me. There was no way he wouldn’t have been able to find a copy of our marriage license.

  Nick had left his ring, maybe so I could sell it, but he’d taken the certificate with him when he’d abandoned me in the hotel. But even without the paper, my investigator should have found him. Draven was too unique a name. A little effort and he would have earned all that money we’d paid him. Instead, he’d been content to sit back and lie to me. Tomorrow I was stopping payment on his last check, not that it would make me feel any better.

  My gullibility made this entire situation even more embarrassing.

  Because I couldn’t blame the investigator entirely. I’d had the choice to hire someone else. Instead, I’d just chosen to push the whole thing deep down and try to forget it. Another mistake.

  When the waitress delivered our steaks, I took the welcome interruption as a chance to calm down. I needed a few minutes to pull myself together and to muster the courage to ask him the question I was dreading.

  Why had he left me?

  We ate our meals in silence. While Nick cleared his plate, I picked at my food. It was delicious but I’d lost my appetite. With every minute that went by, I told myself to ask but the words wouldn’t come together. Why couldn’t I get them out?

  After the waitress removed our dinner plates, Nick reached across the table and captured my hand with his. I tried to jerk it away but as I tensed, his grip firmed and my hand remained trapped.

  “I want a chance,” Nick said.

  “A chance for what?” I asked.


  “A chance to start again.”

  My mouth fell open. Was he serious? “What? Why?”

  “You asked me back then if I believed in fate. I didn’t until I met you. And I’ve spent nine years thinking I’d never see your face again. But fate brought you back into my life and I’m not going to mess it up again.”

  I struggled to swallow the lump in my throat and speak. “You left me.”

  “Please believe I did it for a good reason. And not a day has gone by when I haven’t regretted it.” He stroked the side of my trapped hand with his thumb.

  “Why?” My eyes filled with tears the second the word passed my lips.

  “I promise I’ll explain. Just not tonight,” he said.

  My heart sank and I sagged into the heavily padded bench seat. This was his test and he had failed miserably. I didn’t want a deflection, a promise to explain later. He could disappear tomorrow for another nine years for all I knew.

  “No,” I said. “No chances. You could have found me. You could have explained. You’ve lost your chance.”

  His jaw clenched and the muscle on his forehead twitched. If he actually thought a couple of sweet sentences—which lacked an apology, I might add—would have me falling all over him again, he was sorely mistaken.

  “I stayed away from you because I figured you would have moved on. But you’re not happy. I can see it plain as day. Give me a chance?”

  I looked to the table. “No. I want a divorce.”

  “You won’t get one.”

  “What?” I gasped, my eyes snapping up to his.

  “No divorce. I’ll contest it.”

  “Do you really think challenging me and my legal team is a good idea, Nick? You’ll be wasting both our time and money.”

  “I don’t care. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  “Is this about my money? Is that what you want? Then fine. Name your price. Just let me go.”

  “It’s not about your fucking money. It never was. But I’m not letting you go until I get my chance.”

  “I’m in love with another man. Your chances are over.”

  His body flinched so violently that it almost caused me physical pain. “A month. I want a month. And then I’ll let you go.”

  I sat for a minute, weighing my options. I could dig in my heels and tell him to go to hell. Or I could let him think he had a chance. The only way I was getting my answers was with the latter. And I needed those answers desperately.

  I needed to move on with my life.

  “A month is too long and I’m not dragging this out. I’ll give you a week.”

  “Fine. But I want five dates. You’re not going to blow me off for a week and then say I had my chance.”

  “Okay,” I grumbled. “Five dates. One week.”

  “Good. We start tomorrow.”

  After exchanging phone numbers, I collected my purse and slid out of the booth, making our way to the restaurant’s exit.

  But just before Nick could push the door open for me, a blond, skinny woman came rushing over and started fawning over him.

  “Oh, Nick!” she said, grabbing his arm and petting his bicep. She leaned so far into his space that her surgically enhanced breasts rubbed up against his side. “I’ve been wondering when I’d see you again. Small world that we’d both be here for dinner.”

  “Good-bye, Andrea,” Nick said, yanking his arm free.

  “Don’t leave! Not yet! I came here with a friend but I was hoping you could give me a ride home,” she begged.

  With Nick distracted by this Andrea woman, I slipped out the door. The last thing I wanted was to witness my soon-to-be ex-husband being hit on.

  Practically sprinting to my Jeep, I shut the door and sagged against the steering wheel.

  Five dates.

  I just had to get through five more encounters with Nick and then I could put this all behind me. And tomorrow, I could talk to Logan.

  Driving home, I tried to concentrate on the beautiful scenery around me but my mind kept drifting back to dinner. Had Nick been sincere? Or was this just another one of his games?

  I had left dinner with more questions than answers. I was sick to death of the unanswered questions.

  And I was sick to death of how much Nick had consumed me these last few days.

  Even now, when I should be worried more about Logan and arranging my divorce, I couldn’t shake the unwelcome chills that traveled down my spine at the mental image of that Andrea woman rubbing against Nick at the restaurant.

  I was annoyed that Alice was paying too much attention to Logan but that jealousy was just a pinch compared to the gut-wrenching twist I was feeling over Nick. The thought of him having sex with her, or any other woman, was making me nauseous.

  This had to end before I went mad.

  “Five dates. One week,” I said to myself. “Then this will all be over.”

  Prescott’s movie theater was located in the middle of Main Street, sandwiched between the deli and a fly-fishing shop. Main Street was Prescott’s hub, filled with locally owned shops and stores. It ran right through the middle of town, eventually connecting with the highway. The highway had other businesses, including the motel and grocery store, but so far, I’d spent most of my time wandering downtown.

  Walking down the sidewalk, I spotted Nick standing outside the theater’s ticket window. His canvas jacket showcased his broad shoulders. His jeans molded perfectly to his thighs and highlighted the perfect shape of his ass. He was wearing a hunter-green baseball cap and the longer hair at his neck was hanging free, curling at the ends.

  My feet teetered and I almost fell down. After all these years, the sight of him still made my knees weak. I cursed myself for letting his looks get to me, but on the bright side, at least he wasn’t looking and had missed my stumble.

  “Hi,” I called out.

  “Hey,” he said. A crooked grin spread across his face as his eyes raked over my body.

  His eyes were hungry and I was glad that I’d been able to swing home after school to change into something less flattering than the dress I had worn to work. I was in jeans and a tan sweater with camel suede elbow patches. Because I always got cold in theaters, I had pulled on a slouchy, brown beanie.

  The first of our five required dates was a movie. Nick had wanted dinner but I’d managed to convince him (via a lengthy text message exchange) that I’d been dying to check out Prescott’s Rialto Theater. Though it hadn’t been a lie, my real motivation had been because we wouldn’t be able to talk.

  I had four more nights to get his explanation. Tonight was all about avoidance and getting this over with quickly.

  Handing me my ticket, he asked, “Snacks?”

  “Popcorn. Skittles. Junior Mints. Diet Coke,” I ordered. “What? Don’t give me that look. It’s my dinner.”

  The lobby of the theater was packed full of people. Next to the small ticket box was a long concession counter where four high school kids frantically filled food and drink orders.

  “Is it always this busy?” I asked.

  “Tuesday night they run a special where everything is half off,” he said.

  We waited our turn in awkward silence. This was not the place for a serious conversation but casual chitchat wasn’t an option either. We had too much baggage. After what felt like hours, we had our snacks and shuffled into the theater.

  The two-story room was much larger than I would have guessed from the outside of the building. A small balcony hung above the main floor. The walls were draped in maroon curtains tied with gold, tasseled rope. The wood trim was carved in intricate swirls.

  “This place is amazing,” I said, following Nick to a pair of open seats on the lower level.

  “Yeah. A couple of years ago they renovated the place, but this has been the theater in Prescott since the early 1900s. Back then they used to do vaudeville shows. The stage beneath the movie screen is the original.”

  “Very interesting. Do you come here often?” I spr
ead my snacks around me for easy access during the movie.

  “No.”

  I jumped in my seat when I felt his breath on the side of my face. I’d been so busy arranging my popcorn that I hadn’t realized he’d gotten so close. The seats in the theater were squished so closely together that my arm would be rubbing up against his all night.

  Shit.

  Maybe the movie wasn’t such a good idea after all. At least with dinner, I’d have had a table separating us.

  The movie started and though my eyes stayed locked on the screen, I wasn’t absorbing the film. All of my focus was on the man sitting next to me and the arm he’d draped around my shoulders. For two hours, Nick drew circles on my shoulder with his fingertips.

  I should have pulled away and told him to stop. The words were right on the tip of my tongue but I just couldn’t get them out. Why had I let him touch me?

  Because I was bat-shit crazy. That’s why.

  When the crowd stood to leave, I breathed a sigh of relief that the night was over.

  “Good night,” I said when I was safely on the sidewalk, but before I could escape, Nick captured my elbow and spun me around.

  “Tomorrow night. Dinner.”

  “I can’t tomorrow. Thursday either. I need to spend some time finishing my lesson plans,” I lied.

  My prep work for school had been done since the weekend, but I had to get some space from Nick. My mental stability was at stake. Spending last night with him at The Black Bull and then tonight at the theater was too much.

  “Lesson plans? Don’t you teach little kids?” he asked.

  “After you spend a day attempting to keep fourteen kindergarteners entertained without a lesson plan, you can question their necessity. Until then, trust me when I say they are vital.”

  “Fine,” he said with a smug grin. “Friday. Dinner. Prescott Café. Six o’clock.”

  I nodded and rushed away before he could say anything else. What was with that arrogant smile he’d given me? Had I missed a joke?

  It wasn’t until I was sitting in my driver’s seat that I realized why he had grinned. We had four dates left to fit into six days. If I delayed date two until Friday, it meant that I’d be seeing him Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday.