The Pre-Nup
Page 22
“Spare me the Lady Tact routine.” Alex twirled a lock of her red hair between her fingers. “I know exactly how obnoxious this looks. I dyed it myself. Out of a box. Do you need your smelling salts?”
“Please. Haven’t you figured out yet that I only look sweet and innocent? Speaking of which…” She motioned Alex closer and lowered her voice so the espresso machine nearly drowned her out. “Michael’s attorney called mine today and he’s had a sudden change of heart.”
Alex clapped a hand to her cheek and feigned shock. “What an amazing coincidence.”
Ellie shrugged out of her long camel coat and folded it over her arm. “He said he no longer wants to abide by the terms of the pre-nup. In fact, he’s offering to buy me out of the house, give me the BMW outright, and fork over a very generous cash settlement. Plus he’ll pay all of Hannah’s tuition through college.”
“It’s the least he can do.”
“I agree. Oh, and he said I can keep the emerald jewelry his mother gave to me when we got married.” Ellie’s sense of triumph ebbed for a moment. “But I declined. Every time I wore them, I’d think about Vixen_MD and the night I found out.”
“Who cares about Vixen_MD?” Alex was outraged. “Do you know how much we could hock those for?”
“I’m putting them in trust for Hannah,” Ellie said firmly. “Along with my engagement ring. He’s still her father, and Patrice is still her grandmother, and she’ll want the family heirlooms someday.”
“I vote we take them all to a pawnshop right now. I saw one a couple blocks back.”
“I didn’t tell you the best part yet. He’s completely given up on the custody fight. Hannah’s primary residence will be with me, and he’ll see her on the weekends; no contest. My attorney is stunned. She says she’s never seen anyone just roll over like that. This is the easiest settlement she’s ever handled. She even went so far as to ask if I’d somehow brought ‘undue pressure’ to bear.”
Alex looked a little alarmed. “And you told her…?”
“I told her that his parents must have intervened for the sake of family harmony and social propriety.”
“Good girl.” Alex grabbed their lattes as soon as the barista finished foaming the milk. “Now, come on, we told the printers we’d be there at ten. Aren’t you dying to see our ad proof?”
“Absolutely. But I’m still trying to figure out where we should be advertising. The newspaper? Local magazines?”
“We’ll need a website, for sure,” Alex said. “I already have my Vegas connection working on it.”
“The casino hacker?”
“Yeah, but don’t worry; I told him to make it look classy.”
“The problem is, most of our business will be generated through word-of-mouth referrals,” Ellie mused. “And the Mayfair Estates crowd is our target demographic. But I can’t even set foot in the country club lobby now, thanks to Patrice and the gold-plated Gestapo. I’m blackballed forever.”
“Well, then, we’ll just have to get creative.”
Ellie nibbled her lip. “Hmm. What if you join the country club? I could ask Jen or Mara to sponsor you. Why are you rolling your eyes?”
“You don’t see a problem with that plan?” Alex shook her head.
“What? You’re not a resident?”
“Do you really think they’d ever vote me in as a member? A few weeks of tweed and cashmere can’t erase a decade of sequins and pasties. That’s why I’m the muscle and you’re the management.”
Ellie gave her the side-eye. “You make it sound like we’re starting an organized crime ring.”
Alex smiled demurely. “Organized crime bosses don’t wear twinsets and pearls, now do they?”
“We are going to stay on the right side of the law,” Ellie insisted. “Always. Agreed?”
“Now that we’re incorporated, I’m a Girl Scout,” Alex vowed.
“Do you think I should call the day-care center and make sure Hannah’s okay?” Ellie floundered under a fresh wave of doubt and ambivalence. “She didn’t cry when I dropped her off this morning, but she’s not used to me being gone all day.”
“Enough with the mommy guilt. Let’s go build our empire.” Alex nudged her toward the exit. “Hannah will be fine. She needs to get out and socialize. And I need a new haircut. And an apartment. And a car. So let’s hustle.”
“Okay, okay.” Ellie left her phone in her handbag and let Alex lead her outside. “Just let me put my coat on.”
The wind picked up, blowing Ellie’s hair into her face, so she turned her head to the side and glimpsed a woman in a huge, floppy straw hat peering around the corner of the building. The hat’s brim flapped in the breeze, and Ellie was shocked to recognize the pale face beneath.
“Caroline!” It was out of her mouth before she could stop herself.
Caroline Surbaugh took one look at Ellie and lunged back around the corner.
“Who was that?” Alex asked.
“That was the Grand Poo-bah of Mayfair Estates.”
“Why is she lurking around downtown Phoenix on a Tuesday morning wearing a ratty old granny hat?”
“I have no idea.”
Caroline, apparently resigned to the fact that she’d been made, rounded the corner and approached them with a shaky smile. The seasonally inappropriate hat was the least of her fashion faux pas. She had coordinated her black trousers and driving moccasins with what appeared to be an ivory silk bed jacket. “Ellie Barton! What an unexpected surprise. I hardly recognize you with that fabulous new hairdo.”
An obvious lie, but Ellie was too busy trying to ignore the pajamas in public to wonder why Caroline was suddenly acknowledging her existence. “Hello, Caroline. How are you?”
“Very well, thanks.” Caroline doffed the hat and fluffed up her flattened black hair. “Lovely morning.”
“Lovely,” Ellie agreed.
“So!” Caroline straightened the collar of her pajama top. “What brings you to this side of town?”
“Oh, I’m just picking up some proofs from a printer. I’m hoping to start a new career now that…” Ellie cleared her throat and changed topics immediately. “This is my business partner, Alex Ankrum.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Alex stepped forward, but didn’t smile.
“Charmed.” Caroline offered her manicured hand for a limp handshake. Ellie couldn’t decide who looked more repulsed: the stripper or the socialite.
The conversation dried up after that, but Ellie couldn’t leave Caroline alone in an obvious state of distress without at least offering assistance. “Can we drop you off somewhere?”
“No, no, I’m fine.” Caroline glanced over Ellie’s shoulder and started cursing. “Damn! I’ve lost him!”
Ellie frowned. “Who?”
“Nobody,” Caroline said quickly.
“Her husband,” Alex said.
“What?” Caroline gasped. “How dare you suggest that I—”
“The guy at the pay phones.” Alex jerked her thumb back over her shoulder toward a bank of phones in the center of an open plaza between office buildings. “Well, he was at the pay phones, anyway.”
“Yes, and now he’s gotten away, thanks to you!” Caroline glared accusingly at Alex.
Ellie glanced from the pay phones to Caroline and back again. “Am I missing something?”
Alex ignored Caroline’s tantrum and took a leisurely slurp of coffee. “She thinks he’s cheating.”
Caroline choked. “You don’t know that!”
“I recently ran into a chick who tracked her fiancé down at a strip club and caught him in the VIP room,” Alex informed her. “I know—total whackjob, right? The expression on her face was the exact one you have right now.”
Caroline sputtered half-formed protests for another thirty seconds, then clutched Ellie’s forearm and admitted, “I think he’s meeting her during the workday. So I decided to follow him. I didn’t have much time to get dressed. I’ve been tailing him all morning. He hasn’t even gon
e into his office yet, and now I’ve lost him!”
“And he was using a pay phone?”
“Yes! Which is odd, because he always uses his cell. I didn’t even know the city still had public pay phones.”
Ellie nodded grimly. “Not a good sign. If he uses a pay phone, it means the call doesn’t show up on his cell phone records, or even his office line records.”
“How long has this been going on?” Alex asked.
Caroline’s voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “I just want to know what’s going on. No divorce, no scandal. I just want to know for sure.”
“Caroline, if I may…” Ellie offered up one of the freshly minted business cards:
THE OTHER WOMEN
Sympathetic, discreet infidelity investigators “Why wonder?”
“‘Why wonder?’” Caroline read aloud. She looked up at Ellie with a mixture of awe and dread. “This is your new career? Are you accepting new clients?”
Alex nodded. “Always.”
“You’re hired.”
“Excellent,” Ellie said. “I think you’ll find our fees are quite reasonable.”
Alex elbowed her. “Not that reasonable.”
“Whatever it costs, it’ll be worth it.” Caroline nodded, recovering her customary composure. “And you’ll be discreet?”
“We’ll never breathe a word of it to anyone,” Ellie promised. “We take confidentiality very seriously.”
“In that case, I have some friends who might be interested, too. The men in my neighborhood…well, I don’t have to tell you.”
“No, you do not.” Ellie supplied a dozen more cards. “Here, take a few extra.”
Caroline slipped the business cards into her handbag. “This is a godsend. You’re brilliant.”
“Thank you. Now, just give me a phone number where I can reach you—preferably a line your husband doesn’t answer—and the best time to contact you.”
Caroline scribbled on the coffee shop napkin Alex provided. “If you don’t mind my asking, how do you manage to find out the truth? Are you going to follow him and take photos, or what?”
“Every situation is different. We’re very resourceful.” Ellie glanced over at Alex. “We have what you might call a secret weapon.”
“Well, use whatever means may be necessary. I give you carte blanche, so long as it’s our little secret.” She addressed Ellie with an air of exaggerated casualness. “And of course you’ll be at my cocktail party on Saturday. And the charity auction next weekend.”
Ellie blinked. “But what about…?”
“Darling, don’t be silly. Everyone adores you. You’ll sit at my table.”
“She’ll be there,” Alex said.
With that settled, Caroline trilled, “Delightful to see you. Now, I really must be going. Bridge game at noon. Ta-ta.”
Ellie and Alex watched Mayfair Estates’ queen bee bustle away, then stared at each other in silence for a moment.
“You society chicks are messed up,” Alex declared.
“No argument here.” Ellie’s new cell phone rang. “Oh, that’s my work line. I better take this.”
She answered the phone in a giddy rush of triumph. “This is The Other Women; how may I help you?”
“Sorry, I’m trying to reach Ellie Barton,” said a confused male voice on the other end of the line.
“This is Ellie.”
“Oh. Okay. Hi. This is Ben.”
Ben? Ben who?
“I got your number from Mara Stroebel.”
“Ah.” Ellie tried to sleuth out the connection as politely as possible. “And you know Mara from…?”
The voice laughed, deep and dark and sexy, and Ellie felt an unexpected tingle just south of her panty line. “From the emergency room. I’m the guy with the golf clubs and bad aim.”
“Oh, that guy.” Ellie blushed at how breathy she sounded.
“Yeah, that guy.” He laughed again.
She did her best to ignore the tingling and steered the conversation toward the least provocative topic she could think of. “Mara’s not pursuing legal action, is she?”
“No, I actually tracked her down. To find out if you were single.”
“I guess I am.” The breathiness was back. “Well, almost. I’m separated, if you want to get technical about it.”
“Does that mean I technically can take you to dinner?”
“I—my divorce isn’t final,” she stammered. “It won’t be for months.”
“Okay, then, how about just coffee and dessert?”
“I have a daughter.” Ellie knew she sounded curt and defensive, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. “She’s three.”
“Mara told me.” He sounded totally unfazed.
“And I’m starting a business, and I may be enrolling in an accounting class, too.” Ellie could see Alex shooting her questioning glances, so she turned her face to the wall.
“You sound like a busy woman,” Ben said.
She lifted her chin. “I am.”
“Then you’ll need to eat to keep up your strength. We’ll keep it casual.”
All the lousy golfers in the world, and Mara had to get beaned in the head by this one. Ellie took a moment to decide how to answer. He sounded so funny and charming and engaging.
Just like Michael had been in the beginning.
She released the breath she’d been holding. “I appreciate the offer. Truly.”
“But you’re turning me down,” he finished for her.
“It’s not you; it’s me. Honestly. I’m booked solid for the next six months.”
“Fair enough.” His tone remained upbeat. “Talk to you in six months.” And with that, he clicked off the line and out of her life.
“Who was that?” Alex charged up behind her.
Ellie brushed an imaginary strand of hair off her coat sleeve. “No one you know.”
“Bullshit.” Alex laughed her loud, throaty laugh, and heads turned all the way down the block. “You should have seen your face.”
“Leave me alone and let’s get back to business. We have our first client! And she’s going to refer us to lots more.”
“Don’t try to distract me. Who was on the phone?”
“Would you please focus? We have a higher mission here: to track down and bust wayward husbands.”
“Yeah, but there’s no reason why we can’t have a little fun along the way.” Alex shook out her wild red hair and challenged, “You do remember how to have fun, don’t you?”
“Vaguely.”
“So call the guy back. Right now.”
“But Michael just moved out! What will the neighbors say?”
“Who cares? Do you want to go out with him?
“Yes. Maybe. I don’t know anything about him!”
“Let me tell you about this newfangled thing they’ve invented to get to know more about people. It’s called dating. Dial the phone!”
So she did. She bit her thumbnail and punched the callback button before she lost her nerve, and Ben picked up right away.
“Has it been six months already?”
“You know, I took another look at my schedule, and I may just be able to squeeze you in.” Ellie couldn’t stop smiling. “Things have suddenly started to open up.”
About the Author
BETH KENDRICK is the author of four previous novels, including Nearlyweds and Fashionably Late. She also writes teen fiction as Beth Killian. She lives near Phoenix, Arizona, with her husband, son, and an assortment of badly behaved dogs. Visit her website at www.bethkendrick.com.
THE PRE-NUP
A Bantam Discovery Book / December 2008
Published by Bantam Dell
A Division of Random House, Inc.
New York, New York
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
<
br /> All rights reserved
Copyright © 2008 by Beth Macias
Bantam Books and the rooster colophon are registered trademarks and Bantam Discovery is a trademark of Random House, Inc.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Kendrick, Beth.
The pre-nup / Beth Kendrick.
p. cm.
1. Antenuptial contracts—Fiction. 2. Newlyweds—Fiction. 3. Couples—Fiction. 4. Female friendship—Fiction. 5. Chick lit. I. Title.
PS3611.E535P74 2008
813'6—dc22
200834916
www.bantamdell.com
eISBN: 978-0-553-90583-0
v3.0_r1