by Lee, Nadia
What should I do?
He was good at finding out what needed to be done. But now no matter how he examined the problem, there was only one course of action left for him to take, except it would’ve been preferable to stick his finger in a live socket.
Closing his eyes against the ache in his heart, he pulled out his phone and dialed Craig’s number.
“Gavin. What’s going on?” Craig asked, not wasting time with how are you?s. Clients didn’t call this late at night when they were doing well.
“Amandine wants to leave me. Told me to keep all my money.”
“Congratulations.”
A bitter taste spread in his mouth. What kind of lawyer congratulated his client on an impending divorce he didn’t want? “I intend to provide a large settlement for her.”
“Why? I thought you said she didn’t want any money.” Gavin could hear a fiduciary scowl in Craig’s voice.
“It’s something I’m offering. That’s the least I can do.”
“All right. Depending on how much is on the table…could be a pretty smart strategy. That way she can’t change her mind about money later and claim you took advantage.”
Gavin’s hand tightened around the phone. He hated Craig’s reasonable voice. Never mind he was just doing his job. “She can have half my assets.”
Craig sputtered. “Half! That’s way too much, Gavin. Half a percent is plenty enough, given the prenup.”
“Just do it. That’s why I hired you.”
“You hired me to give you good legal advice.”
“I am the client.”
Craig sighed. “You sure you don’t want to think it over? There’s no rush.”
“No. My mind’s made up. But there are some conditions. Here are the most important ones…”
Chapter Twenty-Three
GAVIN PLOPPED DOWN in the lawn chair in his mother’s garden. The party she’d hosted had ended a bit earlier than planned, but it looked like everyone’s feathers were unruffled. There was nothing his mother couldn’t do when she set her mind to it, and the family rarely disobeyed her will.
If she could change Amandine’s mind too…
It’d been over a week since he’d moved out of the house. He and Amandine no longer had any communication. That was what their lawyers were for.
The sky had darkened, although the sun was still streaking most of the horizon with a golden orange. Gavin drank bourbon straight from the bottle. It felt like nothing would be enough to numb the emptiness he’d been feeling ever since Amandine had announced she’d fight tooth and nail to be rid of him.
He’d been that much of a failure as a husband.
“Mom’s gonna ground you if she sees you like this.” Meredith took a seat next to him.
“Like what?”
“Drinking and brooding and generally unpleasant.”
“I’m too old to ground.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “You sure?”
“I’m returning to L.A. tonight.”
A small smile appeared. “Chicken.”
Meredith looked like him, though shorter and feminine and with long hair. Some idiots in New York and Hollywood had said she could be an actress, but Gavin knew there was no way. She liked to eat, had a particular weakness for cheeseburgers and fries, and didn’t care that the camera added twenty pounds.
She shoved a glass his way. “Pour me a finger.”
“There’s hardly enough for me.”
“The bottle’s more than half full! Don’t be greedy.”
Sighing, he shared.
She chugged it down and made a face. “God, that’s disgusting. I don’t know how you drink this stuff.”
“It costs more than what some people make in a week.”
“Is that why you drink it?”
“No. For the medicinal effect.” A fantastic painkiller, no prescription required.
“Hope it improves your mood then. You were a dick to Ethan and his date at the party.”
He made a face. “I don’t trust her. She’s a Sterling.”
“And this is relevant, how…?”
“Ever heard of Sterling & Wilson? TLD’s arch-rival?” It was appalling the woman had gone through TLD’s financial records to “help” Ethan.
“So? She’s Ethan’s date. Seriously, Gavin, would you have been this much of a jerk if she weren’t Barron Sterling’s granddaughter?”
If they’d met in any other circumstances, he would’ve liked her. But things were tense with Jacob’s bigamy and the company falling apart, and Gavin didn’t care for the complication of having a business rival’s granddaughter in their midst.
“Come on,” Meredith prompted.
“No,” he admitted grudgingly.
“And Ethan says she’s amazing with numbers.”
“She’s not too bad.” She was freakishly good, one of the best he’d ever seen based on the analysis she’d done on TLD.
“So be nice. Sterling blood or not, she’s going to help me save the company.”
And if things don’t work out, you can blame her. He swallowed the comment. “Just keep an eye on her. And I hope you succeed.”
“Thank you. I plan to.”
He poured her another finger, but she didn’t touch it. They sat in companionable silence as lights came on in houses around the neighborhood. Gavin took another long swallow. When was the last time he’d spent any time with his sister?
“Do you think I’m an asshole?” he asked.
She choked. “What?”
“Be honest. Am I an asshole?”
“No.” She stared at him wide-eyed. “Where did you get that idea?”
“Catherine. And the fact that my wife intends to divorce me.”
“I thought you guys were expecting.”
“It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t want me.”
“Oh my god.” Meredith put a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged. “I tried to work things out, but it wasn’t enough.” I wasn’t enough.
“I don’t understand. She loves you.”
How confused Meredith was. “Then why does she want to get rid of me?”
“I don’t know, Gavin. Things are complicated in relationships, but trust me. I’m saying it with a woman’s intuition: Amandine loves you. That’s why she married you.”
“How do you know?”
“Because of the kind of woman she is. She’s not interested in money or fame. She’s not the type to go around hooking up on a casual basis.”
Gavin stared out into the dusk. Pete had said Amandine had an unrealistic image of their parents’ marriage. She wanted what her mother and father had, even though they’d been poor and had struggled to get by.
Love.
She wanted love.
Jesus. It was one thing Gavin didn’t know how to deal with. He had done everything in his power to provide for her, make sure she never lacked for anything. He’d always given money to his ex-girlfriends, and it had made them happy. Why was Amandine different?
The idea of losing her made everything seem hopeless. But he didn’t know how to fix the mess without making matters even worse. He had no idea how to show her he loved her, and simply telling her “I love you” at this point was too late. Too much had been said and done, and she’d made it clear she could no longer bear to be with him in any way, not even for her own child’s sake. He should’ve figured it out sooner and said the words earlier. If he’d done so back in Samantha’s office, it could’ve worked.
He’d give up all his money if he could go back in time and do things over. But he had no such power, and all he could do was make sure Amandine would never lack for anything.
* * *
Amandine stared out the window at nothing. Her limp hand held a paint-brush tipped in crimson.
Ever since she and Gavin had ended the reconciliation attempt, she couldn’t focus. If it weren’t for Brooke and Luna, she might have forgotten to eat.
“Amandine, you have a vi
sitor,” Luna said.
“Who?”
“Mrs. Lloyd.”
Amandine tensed. Luna called only one person Mrs. Lloyd: Stella. “Where is she?”
“In the living room.”
“I’ll be right out.” She put down her brush and got up. Her palms grew damp. Why had Stella come? She’d never visited Amandine, and had no reason to stop by now, especially with the impending divorcing.
Stella sat on the sofa, her slim legs elegantly angled. Her blue blouse set off the pearls on her ears and around her throat, and not even the smallest wrinkle showed on her deep purple pencil skirt. She smiled when she saw Amandine. “Hello, dear.”
“Hi. What a surprise. I didn’t realize you’d be visiting.” Sitting, Amandine touched her hair and clothes unconsciously. A simple ponytail and a paint-splattered baby T and jeans couldn’t compete with Stella’s neat French twist and silk outfit.
“I heard you couldn’t travel, so I thought I should,” Stella said. “We missed you yesterday.”
“What do you mean?”
“The family party. It was yesterday.”
Was it? Amandine didn’t remember, but then it wasn’t like she’d been invited. “I hope it was fun.”
“It served its purpose.”
“Well then.” Amandine forced a smile. “That’s all that matters.”
There was a short pause as Stella’s penetrating gaze studied Amandine’s face. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. I’m fine, no nausea or anything.”
Luna brought out a tray of tea and cookies and disappeared. Stella ignored the refreshments. “I heard from Meredith that you’re divorcing my son.”
Amandine’s stomach suddenly felt tight. “Things…haven’t worked out.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. But I hope you won’t try to cut all of us out.”
“Of course not. It’d be cruel to deprive the baby of its grandma and uncles and aunts.”
The tension around Stella’s mouth loosened. “Thank you. I’m afraid I did many things wrong by you and Catherine.”
“I’m sorry?”
“When Jacob and Catherine announced they were getting married, I could tell something wasn’t quite right. I always thought she’d marry Gavin.”
“You did…?”
Stella nodded. “I can piece together quite a bit from what my children say and do. You’ll see, when you have some of your own.” She picked up a sugar cookie and bit into it. “Then, a year after Catherine and Jacob’s wedding ceremony, Gavin suddenly married you, Catherine’s cousin. My children’s happiness is important to me, and I didn’t know what to make of it at first. I assumed you and Catherine had ‘played’ my sons, as the younger crowd says these days.” A rueful smile twisted her face, and something like regret flitted through her eyes. “As it turns out, I was wrong. Jacob’s an embarrassment, and Gavin can’t be happy when you aren’t. I’ve never gone out of my way to make you feel welcome and included in the family.”
Amandine shook her head. “Stella, please. You’ve always been so gracious to me.”
“Grace devoid of warmth isn’t really being gracious, dear.” Stella put half the cookie back on her plate. “I don’t know if you’re going to want to keep in touch, but I hope you do.”
“Of course I will.”
“Marvelous.” Stella reached across the table and held Amandine’s hand. “Now, I have a piece of advice. Once the divorce is final, find somebody who’ll love you and make you happy. Life is short.”
“What about Gavin?”
“Gavin’s hurting now, but he’ll get over it once he realizes he wasn’t the right man for you.”
A big lump formed in Amandine’s throat. Blinking her tears away, she nodded and cleared her throat. “Would you like to see the sonogram photos and stay for lunch?”
Stella’s face brightened. “That would be wonderful. Thank you, Amandine.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
A COUPLE OF WEEKS LATER, Amandine found herself back at La Mer. She hadn’t made a reservation; Mark Pryce had called and insisted she come around and eat before she got too big to move.
She agreed, especially now that Dr. Silverman had given her the okay to go out so long as she was careful. She’d lost her appetite, and maybe something delicious from La Mer would do the trick.
Gavin hadn’t come back after their talk. He hadn’t called or come to her appointments with Dr. Silverman either. It was like he didn’t want anything to do with her or the baby.
Like her cousin said, it’d be foolish to hang onto a man who didn’t want her. Even Stella had agreed with that. But still, it hurt. Deep in her heart, Amandine didn’t care what Gavin wanted.
She missed him.
“You look good,” Mark said as he led her to a table by the aquarium.
She had taken care, trying to cover up her misery and the general feeling of being unwell. A pretty pink dress with spaghetti straps hung from her shoulders, and instead of the usual stilettos, she wore sensible ballet slippers. Her curled and teased hair fell behind her like a silken cape, and she’d even put on extra makeup. She didn’t want to appear a pathetic unwanted wife in public. It’d be her private shame.
Mark pulled out a comfortable chair for her, then sat down himself. He didn’t look like he owned the restaurant. His simple white shirt had the two top buttons undone, and the sleeves were rolled all the way to his elbows, exposing tanned forearms. He wore black slacks just like the staff—though his were made of expensive silk.
“Heard from a few people that you bartend here. Do you enjoy it?” she asked.
“Yeah. It’s not bad.”
“Don’t you have enough staff?”
“We do, but La Mer’s still new. I like to keep an eye on things.”
“You won’t have to much longer. It’s doing so well,” she said, taking a sweeping look. It was packed with people dressed in designer clothes, and every time someone walked by she got a whiff of some expensive perfume or cologne. The tablecloths were thick white cotton, the pristine flatware well-balanced and heavy. Everything was served on high quality china and exquisite crystal.
“How about you?” Mark asked. “All good?”
“As good as it can be.” She ordered a few items including the day’s special—grilled scallops wrapped with smoked bacon. Hopefully a change of menu would revive her love of food.
Mark ordered the same.
“Are you eating with me?” she asked.
“Yup. I’m starving. Besides, it sucks to eat alone.”
She gave him a small smile. When Mark had called she’d been half-hoping that the lunch was a set-up to put her together with Gavin again. It’d be like a movie or something. They’d eat, and talk—awkwardly at first—then realize they loved each other and reconcile. Gavin would sweep her up in his arms and carry her out of the restaurant while the other patrons clapped and cheered.
What a sentimental fool she was. Real life wasn’t a Hollywood fantasy. “Have you…” She cleared her throat. “Have you heard anything from Gavin in the last few days?”
Mark’s eyes softened. “He just bought a penthouse. He’s going to move in this week.”
“I see.”
“And he’s closing his funds.”
The glass of orange juice almost slipped from her fingers. “What?”
“Not all of them. He’s going to manage one or two for his family—I think he’s getting somebody to help him run them, though—and the rest will be delegated to his associates. He’s cutting way, way back. Some of his clients left, but most of them are staying, including me. Mom’s on my case right now though, telling me it’s a great chance to dump Gavin and move my assets to her brother’s firm.”
“Good god.” She put down the glass with a thunk.
“Don’t worry, I’m not leaving. My uncle’s not that—”
“Did Gavin say why?” He no longer had a wife to consider. Granted he would have a child to deal with if he wanted—she didn’t pl
an to prevent him from getting to know his own flesh and blood—but she wasn’t due for months.
“Not really. But I know he’d been thinking about it even before you guys decided to make the split final. Hilary told me.”
If it came from Hilary, it had to be accurate. “Did she say what he’s going to do now?”
“Just chill is what she said.”
“Just…chill? That’s it?”
Mark nodded.
Amandine considered. “Have you seen him recently?”
“Two days ago. He came here for a working lunch with a few of his associates.”
“How did he look?”
Mark shrugged. “He looked like Gavin.”
So he wasn’t terminally ill. “I can’t believe he’s doing this. Success means so much to him.”
A waiter refilled her glass with juice and vanished.
Mark’s expression turned almost gentle. “It might have something to do with a woman named after a chocolate dessert.”
Her fingers trembled on the table.
“But hey, enough about Gavin,” he said, his voice suddenly brisk. “Let’s enjoy our dinner. It’s on me.” Mark winked as their waiter placed an appetizer of lightly fried calamari with a dipping sauce between them.
Amandine forced herself to eat a few bites, but she couldn’t taste anything. Why had Gavin agreed to the divorce without a fight? Why was he still going ahead with closing of most of his funds? With her out of the way, he was free to devote as much time as he wanted to his work.
She needed to talk to him.
* * *
Three hours later and back in her home, she tried to call Gavin. It went straight to voice mail.
Amandine hung up, irritated with the mechanical female voice and suddenly unsure what she’d say. She couldn’t just blurt out, “Why are you quitting?”
Her head pounded, and she felt slightly dizzy. She lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling fan. The staff still got paid and reported to work every day to keep the house in tiptop shape. The florist continued to deliver flowers, Luna still made the meals. Other than the fact that her husband was missing, the house was the way it used to be, every piece running smoothly to keep her comfortable and provided for.
Suddenly she remembered her argument with Pete, and his insistence that if their father had really cared for them, he would’ve done everything to provide a decent life. It was easy to talk about love when you didn’t have to do anything “love” required.