‘That’s fantastic, Xavier.’
‘Thanks. They’re a good group.’
I didn’t want to get into my reasons. This felt like enough of a risk as it was but it still felt…unsettled. I needed to make this more solid. Not for her, but for me. Which still means I’m a kind of a dick, doesn’t it?
‘I’m sorry I didn’t get in touch before now’
Her response is fast. ‘I was disappointed.’
Shit. That says it all, doesn’t it? But wait. Why do I need to take this on? I toss the phone down onto the desk. It’s not my fault she’s disappointed.
Markus turns around. “What is going on, X?”
I shake my head. “Just trying to sort some shit. And I’m working on something, and it’s not coming out smooth.”
“Why?”
“I dunno. I was thinking about a new song, and I’d like to get it together for next week, but I don’t know if I can.” I switch gears. “What else do we need to do still?” Before I went to Tibby’s wedding, I’d been finishing up the next album.
“You’re good for a while. I need to go through all the songs again, and then you can listen, and see if you want to make changes.”
“So you’re good if I want to mess around with this new thing?”
“Sure.”
An idea is forming. I know that I hurt her feelings. I haven’t even got anything going with this woman, and I’m already behind. I want to do this song, and get a preliminary recording down so that I can do a video. So she can see it.
Why is it I can’t just say something to her?
I don’t fucking know. I don’t want to think about it right now.
Olivia
Maybe I shouldn’t have been so blunt with him. But it’s true. I was disappointed. A lot more than I would let on. I didn’t see any sense in pretending otherwise.
He finally responds. Thank God he can’t see me, sitting at my desk, hanging onto my phone, waiting to hear from him.
‘I know. I’m sorry. Feel like a dick.’
He has somewhat of a salty mouth. Lots more cursing than I am used to. I laugh a little to myself. I guess I’m more my Momma than I thought.
As though hearing my thoughts, Momma glides into my office. “What are you laughing about, darlin’? Not that I’m not glad to see you smile.” Her face is warm as she looks at me.
I set down the phone, flapping a hand. “Nothing. I was just reading something on Facebook.” I hadn’t told anyone about meeting Xavier. I felt shy, and then when each day went by, and he didn’t get in touch with me, stupid.
“Whatever it is, good. Listen, Lloyd called. He’s coming by with some paperwork for you. We got a response from Royce and his counsel.”
“What does he want now?” The thought made me tired.
“I don’t know, sugar. I did hear the sound of glee in Lloyd’s voice, so perhaps he’s browbeaten them into sanity.”
“Okay. I’ve got time today.”
“Speaking of which, I need to go over some of the clauses from the Lowens account.”
Momma is one of the best multi-taskers I’ve ever seen. It’s why we’re so good together, in spite of being mother and daughter. I’m good at explaining the hard things to clients, and Momma finds the hard things for me to say. Usually, because people want things they really can’t have. You know, due to the law, common sense, that sort of thing.
It’s part of what is so frustrating with this whole Xavier situation. Outside of my husband, I can manage almost anyone. I’m a fumbling mess with Xavier. Just this texting thing is making my heart race.
Oh, no. I haven’t texted him back.
Once Momma sails out, I grab my phone.
‘Sorry. Client stuff. Didn’t mean not to reply.’
‘Work? Like an office. I’m sorry’
‘Not all of us can laze around while the maid brings in coffee!’
‘Sitting at a desk in the studio working. Made my own coffee this morning smart ass’
I laugh out loud.
‘How’s your day going? I’m putting out fires.’
‘Frustrating. Trying to get something out of my head and it’s not coming easy.’
‘I understand.’
‘Do you? Nice to know I’m not alone.’
Interesting. He’s having one of those days, too. It does feel good to know I’m not the only one feeling put upon and frustrated.
‘Course I understand. I work with people.’
‘No thanks’ His response is fast. ‘I like working alone, and I have a good crew that works with me, but that’s it.
‘You find a new manager yet?’
I want to recommend someone to him, hell; I want to recommend myself, because I’d sort him out toot sweet, but…I can’t. You don’t sleep with clients—where the hell did that come from? I drop the phone, shocked at myself.
‘No waiting on my BFF to get her lazy ass off her honeymoon and help me find one. I’m not gonna die. I had her partner deal with the legal side of the breakup LOL.’
Oh. I’m dying to ask more, but it’s not my business, and I already know I have some conflict of interest with this one. Even if he doesn’t. I can’t remember if I told him exactly what I do. I decide to move away from this topic.
‘When do you leave for CA?’
‘3 days’
‘Is the show public?’
‘Gonna stalk me on youtube ;)?’
‘Not that I’d tell you. Your ego is big enough.’
I find that I enjoy texting him. The awkwardness I felt with him in person is slipping away, in spite of the fact I felt rejected for nearly a week. He probably did have to work. I look at my desk, and I see all the things that piled up while I was gone. He runs a bigger business than I do. I sigh. I have to take his word for it, but that doesn’t mean that I have to throw myself into this, or him. I don’t need to be hurt again if he goes all squirrelly on a whim.
I wish that I knew if he was a nice guy underneath all those layers. His press shows a guy who takes no shit from anyone and is pretty private, so while there’s a lot written about him, you don’t get a lot of him from a personal standpoint.
It’s frustrating as hell. I’m contemplating doing a more in-depth Google session into him when Momma comes back in, followed by Lloyd.
‘I have to go, Xavier. The meeting is here.’
‘Later, biz tycoon’
God, he’s funny. Like I’m a tycoon compared to him. God, I hope he really means this, whatever the hell this is.
“Darling, Lloyd has some wonderful news!” Momma beamed at me.
“Well, don’t keep me waiting. Sit down and share,” I say.
They sit in the chairs across from me.
“I heard back from my investigator. He followed Royce while you were gone. We know where he’s staying at the moment.”
Oh. I’d wondered about that but hadn’t given it much thought what with my own Xavier obsession going on. “Where?”
“He’s staying with some girl. She interned here, can you believe it?” Momma looks indignant.
“Suzan, isn’t it?” I ask. In that moment, everything—the divorce, Royce’s behavior toward me lately, even his showing up in the office—crystalizes. Royce took up for her because he is involved with her. And when I tried to fire her, he fought for her. Sort of. But then he backed off. I remember wondering why at the time. It was odd for him—he didn’t back down from me about anything.
Now I see why. Royce was sleeping with that snide, snotty little girl, and needed to get her out of his wife’s business. Then he plotted to take as much as my business as possible.
I banged my hands on the desk and pushed myself up, turning to the window behind me. I crossed my arms, trying to control my rage. I could also feel tears of anger forming, and it made my throat hurt.
That son of a bitch. Momma called it from the get-go.
The thought of him plotting this with that sneaky trashy little snake of a girl made my blood feel like it
boiled. I took a deep breath. I didn’t know that he’d done anything of the sort. Jumping to conclusions wouldn’t do me any good. All I knew at the moment was that he was sleeping with her. Perhaps the grab for my business was just his selfish greed.
“How did you know her name?” Lloyd asked.
“Because Royce took up for her in a big way when we decided to fire her. He took up for her even before then, telling me to stop picking on the poor girl, that she only wanted to learn, that sort of drivel. I thought it was odd at the time. He didn’t normally take up for anyone here, not even me,” I finished bitterly. I didn’t turn around. I didn’t want to see the expressions of pity I knew Momma and Lloyd would both be sporting.
I had a hard time catching my breath. While I’d had a brief flash of concern about this before, hearing that my suspicions were correct hurt in a way I didn’t think it would.
But wow, did it hurt. Like a punch to the gut. All the joy, all the happiness I’d felt from texting back and forth with Xavier—gone.
“That rotten bastard,” I said.
“Honey, don’t you worry,” Momma came around the desk to where I stood, arms nearly wrapped around me, trying to keep upright. ”We’ll get his ass. He is not going to have a leg to stand on, not with this.”
“We also have affidavits that he has been seen there before this week,” Lloyd added, his voice soft.
I could tell he didn’t want to upset me. I appreciated it, but nothing was going to make this any better.
“What does this mean for my case?” I asked in a tone of voice I didn’t even recognize. Harder, more stern and foreboding. I wanted Royce to feel the same kind of pain, the same depth, and intensity that I did.
Why, why, did this hurt so damn much?
Because I’d stayed faithful. I knew we had problems. The abortive attempts I’d made to speak with him about it showed me that. He brushed me off, telling me that he felt it was fine, just fine. That he was tired, hungry, stressed, whatever.
That Goddamned liar.
I whirled around to face Momma and Lloyd. Momma was right behind me, and my sudden movement startled her.
“I want him to pay for this. I want him to go away, and just leave me alone. If he’s done with me, that’s fine. But he doesn’t get jack shit from me. Not one thin dime, Lloyd. I’ll split the house—I don’t want the damn thing anymore—but either we sell it, or he buys it from me.”
“Even if he moves her in?” Momma asked. She watched me with an expression I couldn’t decipher.
“I don’t care what he does with it as long as I get my fair share of the value. I don’t want it anymore. Let him move an entire harem in there. He’ll just need to pay for it. What do you think is going to happen with his request for alimony?”
Lloyd smiled, laughing a little. “He’s not going to get far with it. Courts in this county, this state, don’t often award alimony unless there’s a big difference in income. You make more on paper than he does, true. But that doesn’t take into account that you are a business owner, and subject to a greater tax burden than Royce, as a W2 employee, will ever be. With that, you make quite a bit less. I filed to negate claim and showed that you are the lower income half of the marriage, and asked for alimony for you.”
“He’ll never agree to that,” I said with a slight smile, the anger of just a moment ago lessening at the thought of how this request would hit Royce.
“No, probably not. But the court could award it. If you don’t want it, or say,” He raised his brows suggestively, ”Want to force the sale of the house, either to a stranger or that he buys you out of fair market value? This could be a nice bargaining chip.”
“Always ask for more than you want, sugar,” Momma interjected. “Then you can let the other side think they’re winning something while getting exactly what it is you want.”
I hugged Momma. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you both.”
She beamed, first at me and then at Lloyd. “We love you, honey. And we’re not going to let that cheatin’ swine get away with trying to make you pay for his mess ups.”
“It’s okay to use stronger language, Momma,” I said, amused by her terminology.
“I’d rather not. It’s more ladylike,” she sniffed, sounding prim and proper.
“Except when you called him a sunuvabitch the other day,” I teased.
Now I felt lighter, and could laugh. The blinding rage of realization had passed. Which was weird, because I hadn’t felt that sort of anger, that level, before. But Momma and Lloyd were so clearly on my side, so sure that I didn’t deserve this—it made the pain of being cheated on easier.
Well, kind of.
I’d still need to see Royce at some point. Let him know what a piece of slime he was. And Suzan!
I shrugged then because she wasn’t anything to me. Or me to her. I was just her mean employer. But she had worked here—she knew that we were married. She had been a snotty little know-it-all, however. Sure that her way was the right one. It had been a problem with a few clients. I’d chalked it up—then—to a lack of real-world experience.
I gasped. “That’s what he wants,” I said.
“What?” Momma and Lloyd said together.
“He wants everything so he can give it to her,” I breathed. I’d bet Royce told her she could run things better, and that he’d help her get what she wanted. But to think that he’d planned something like this with her? It nearly took my breath away.
He’d get rid of the pesky old wife, and get a new young thing, and keep the same financial position, the same lifestyle. Through MY company, my hard work.
At that moment, I made up my mind to let the university know that she was involved with her former employer’s spouse. Petty?
Probably. But I would hate for another company to hire her, even to bring her in as an intern, and have this snotty, rude, selfish child upset things in their organization like she’d done here.
She didn’t do anything more than expose what was already there, the snide voice in my head put in.
I hated that voice.
“Surely not?” Lloyd asked.
“At this point, I wouldn’t put anything past him,” I said, feeling my jaw clench. A burst of pain shot up toward my head.
“We’ll find out, and if that’s the case, he won’t even have his greasy underwear left,” Momma said, putting an arm around me.
This had to be the worst day of my life, and yet I felt strong, and able to handle it. Thank God for the two of them.
* * *
The next day, I got up. I hadn’t been good for anything after Momma and Lloyd’s visit, so I went home early, took a bath, drank three glasses of wine, and went to bed. I didn’t even text Xavier because I didn’t want to be whiny, or burden him with my anger. Even I recognized that it sat squarely on the potentially irrational line.
But today was different. I would—
The ringing of my cell phone startled me.
I looked at the number. It was Royce.
I answered it. “Hello?”
“What the hell is this shit, Liv?” He didn’t even bother with pleasantries.
“Well good morning, Royce. Which shit are you referring to?”
“This pile of crap your pet lawyer daddy sent over yesterday! Do you want the house? Or the money from the house? That is—”
“It’s jointly owned,” I interjected, feeling a smile cross my face at his anger. “I no longer wish to retain the asset. Therefore, we can sell it and split the proceeds. Or you can buy me out of it for fifty percent of fair market value.”
“I’m not giving you shit, Liv!”
“Olivia,” I said.
“What?”
“Olivia. Liv is for my friends, and you’ve made it clear we’re not good friends anymore.”
“Not now, not after you’re trying to take everything!”
“Or not after you started fucking Suzan?” I asked, making sure to keep my tone level.
; He didn’t answer right away. Boom, asshole.
“You have no proof of that. It’s just your irrational thoughts.”
“Oh, I have proof, Royce. Plenty of it. How could you think otherwise?”
“You don’t have shit,” He growled. “And I’m not giving you a penny for the house! If you want this to be over in any sort of timely fashion, you won’t fight me! We wouldn’t want our clients to know,” his voice turned sly.
“Did you read the response, Royce?” I asked, breathing deeply to keep my temper. I could hear the nasty tone of his voice, and he knew—he knew—how much I hated it. How easily he could win an argument with me when he used it.
“I read enough.”
“I don’t think so. If you’d read it or listened to your attorney and not your girlfriend, you would see that your request for alimony has been answered, as has your request for two-thirds of the marital assets. My attorney feels good about our chances in front of a judge. He told me that he requested a speedy hearing, as well. Like a wait list or something,” I added far more breezily than I felt. “if an opening comes up, we’re ready.”
“This is not going to happen, O-livia,” he said, stressing my name.
“It’s not going to happen the way you envisioned, maybe, Royce, but it’s going to happen. You started this. I’m going to finish it. There’s no going back.”
“You think I would take you back?” He burst into mean-spirited laughter. I could almost hear the hate in his voice.
When had that happened? When had Royce begun to hate me?
Just as when I’d heard that he was cheating, and with that tart Suzan, this hit me as though a punch to the gut.
“No, I wouldn’t think such a thing,” I said, struggling to keep my temper. “I’d have to want that, and I want nothing to do with your dog tired ass. Don’t call me again. Anything you have to say goes through my attorney. I’m sure yours has his number.”
I hit ‘End’ on the phone.
Bastard.
I wanted to hit something. Hard.
I picked up the phone again.
‘If you’re there, please talk to me. I don’t want to go to jail for murder.’
God, please let him be there. Please let him be willing to talk to me.
Forgotten Wishes: Djinn Everlasting Book Two Page 6