by Jade Kerrion
He gritted his teeth.
No, he had expectations; he had goals and he had accomplished them.
The doorbell rang. He went out into the entryway just as the door opened and Charlotte and Aria walked in, laden with shopping bags. “How was it?” he asked.
“Great!” Aria wore a happy smile. “I’m going to show you my new clothes.” She dashed off to her bedroom, leaving Tom and Charlotte standing in the foyer.
“The cheat sheet of designers was heaven-sent,” Charlotte said.
“It was from Sheridan.”
His sister was silent for a moment. “I see,” she said finally.
“Do you?” Tom asked. “She was at the zoo this afternoon with her goddaughter. We didn’t plan it, or at least I didn’t, but we had lunch together after Aria left on her shopping trip with you. We talked and…Look, I’m pretty sure they didn’t have sex, if they met at all.”
“Sheridan and Mitch? Of course they did.”
“I’m not so sure. I read the contract. There’s no way to be any more explicit about the no sex rule. She said it herself, today. She doesn’t have sex with her clients.”
“She couldn’t have said it.”
“She did. Not to survive. Not anymore.”
Charlotte’s face twisted with pain. “Oh, Tom. It’s worse, then. It’s not just sex as a job for pay. If she has sex, it’s because there’s real attraction, and that’s even worse.”
“I just don’t think—”
“You don’t know women. Mitch is rich. He’s a target for women like her.”
“Sheridan doesn’t look like the type.”
“Do you know the type?”
He shook his head and had to concede the point. “I know…people, and based on my read of Sheridan, she’s doing her best to get her life right. She’s getting a degree; she’s got her own fashion blog. She’s not going to do something that could make it blow up in her face.”
“Marrying up isn’t blowing up.” Charlotte bit her lip. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s not just sex, but what if it’s more? What if Mitch has fallen in love with her? Is she someone a man could fall in love with?”
Yes.
The strength and immediacy of the answer startled him.
Charlotte must have seen it in his face because pain chased across her features. “I knew it. It’s not just an affair to Mitch.”
“You’re completely overreacting. There’s no evidence that Mitch and Sheridan know each other at all.”
“Then we need it.”
“I’m not going to steal her phone and dig through her contacts, if that’s what you’re asking. You wanted my professional opinion of Sheridan; I’ve given it to you.”
“I want proof that Mitch is cheating on me.”
“Why don’t you just confront him? Demand the truth.”
“I can’t. I told you. I can’t initiate the divorce or I’ll get nothing.”
Tom’s eyes narrowed at the desperation in his sister’s voice. “You want a divorce whether or not he’s having an affair. Are you having an affair?”
His sister’s cheeks flushed.
His jaw dropped. “Damn it.”
She grabbed his arm. “Tom, please. I’ve given Mitch everything. I can’t lose everything if I walk away.”
“You’re cheating on him, and now you want me to dig up nonexistent dirt on him?”
“The dirt’s not nonexistent. Not with Mitch. Not ever. You just need to know where to dig.”
Tom shook his head. “This isn’t right.”
“It’s not about what’s right. It’s about what’s fair. He owes me, and you know it.”
“You owe each other the truth.”
“He’s not interested in the truth. He’ll want revenge, and he’ll make it public. You know what he did to his first wife.”
“She had an affair with his best friend.”
“Mitch was absent! Emotionally distant. He had checked out of the marriage and had affairs of his own, but when she turned away, he set out to crush her.”
“She smeared his name publicly.”
Charlotte inhaled sharply. “Are you taking his side?”
“I’m telling you not to make it more than it is. You want a divorce? Just ask for it. I can talk to Mitch and negotiate through your pre-nup. I’m sure I can get you something, but don’t drag Sheridan into this.”
Charlotte’s eyes widened. “You like her.” Her mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. “But—” Her grip tightened, fingernails digging into Tom’s arm. “You men! What is it with all of you? You see a pretty face; she crooks a finger, and you’re ready to drop your pants for her?”
“Charlotte!”
“I can’t lose you to her.”
“You’re not losing me to anyone. Look. I had one…two, if you count today…dates with Sheridan. She’s not what I thought she would be.”
“You like her.”
“I don’t—yes, I do like her. She’s easy to talk to. She has dreams and visions, and it’s great listening to them. It’s wonderful being around someone who is building a business, building a life.”
“Building a business doing what? Wrecking marriages?”
“You’re the one wrecking your marriage.”
Pain flashed across Charlotte’s face. She blinked repeatedly, her eyes filling with tears.
“Damn it.” Tom gritted his teeth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Yes, you did,” Charlotte said. “Should have known I couldn’t compete with a professional.”
“This isn’t a competition.”
She tilted her head and stared at him. “Isn’t it?” She turned away from him and stalked out of the door. “Tell Aria I’m sorry I couldn’t stay for dinner.”
The door slammed, and a second later, Aria poked her head out of her bedroom door. “Are you done yelling?”
Damn it. How much had she heard? “I wasn’t yelling.”
“Yes, you were. Was this about Sherry?”
“Sheridan?”
“Eva calls her Sherry Belly.”
“I didn’t realize Eva said much of anything.”
“Just Sherry’s name, but you can tell she likes Sherry. Babies are pretty smart about stuff like that.”
“And you? Did you like Sherry?”
“A little. Maybe.” Aria’s tone was nonchalant but her eyes were intent. “Do you like Sherry?”
“Yes, I do. We’re friends.”
Aria’s eyebrows formed a furrow. “If you’re her friend, what’s her favorite color?”
“What?”
“Friends know each other’s favorite colors.” Aria snorted. “Are you really her friend?”
Was he?
Later that evening after Aria had gone to bed, Tom sat on the old couch in the living room. It was the only mismatched piece of furniture—a shabby chic that stood out in stark contrast to the sleek European designer furniture that dominated the room. It was a carryover from his law school days, and he never fully understood why he held on to it.
It was a memento from his past—a past he had shared with Lynnette. They had spent evenings cuddling on that couch in front of their television. When she had been pregnant, she had laid on the couch, her head on his lap, listening in silence as he talked about their life together, about the family they were creating together. In hindsight, it was a warning signal, one of many, that she was far less enthralled by her pregnancy than he was.
He had missed all of those signals.
When she left him, he had sat on that couch, holding three-day-old Aria in his arms, shocked into immobility. He remembered the soft sounds of Aria’s whimpers, sounds almost too quiet to hear over the bustling in the kitchen.
Then Charlotte had appeared beside him, a bottle of infant formula in her hands. Tom had wanted to hand Aria over to her, but Charlotte had refused. “You’re her only parent now. She needs you.”
With tears in her eyes, she had stood over him as he gave his daughter
the first of many bottles before hurrying off to make something for him to eat.
Charlotte relinquished the apartment she loved in Greenwich and moved in with him. For two and a half years, she stayed with him, providing an extra pair of hands around the house and a babysitter each time he needed to work late.
He could not have survived Aria’s infancy and early toddler years as gracefully as he had if not for his sister.
And I thank her by accusing her of having an affair.
Tom grunted and pressed his thumb and forefinger against his temple and the headache that would not go away.
Charlotte and Sheridan.
It wasn’t even a choice, was it?
Chapter 5
Brother-in-law-hood included special perks, and Tom was able to squeeze into Mitch Ryan’s extremely busy schedule the following week. When he stepped into the glass-encased offices of Sanchez and Ryan, the receptionist offered him a welcoming smile. “Good afternoon, Mr. Lancaster. Mr. Ryan is running a little late today. I could show you to one of the meeting rooms, if you’d like to wait for him there.”
“Yes, of course. Thank you.”
The windows of the meeting room overlooked Central Park, but instead of enjoying the view, Tom paced the room. He was passing by the door on his fourth or fifth loop around the room when he glanced out through the glass panel in the door. Mitch had stepped out of his office and was walking into the reception area.
And Sheridan was with him.
Tom’s chest tightened. He could not hear anything of their discussion, but their heads were set close together in a conversation that seemed both comfortable and private.
Charlotte had been right about at least one thing. Sheridan and Mitch knew each other, but were they involved in an affair, in broad daylight, in Mitch’s office?
It would be too bold, too brazen.
But bold and brazen was Mitch’s style. Was it Sheridan’s too?
Sheridan and Mitch shook hands, and then Sheridan leaned in to touch her cheek to his, a gesture that implied more than a professional relationship.
Mitch wore a reflective expression as Sheridan turned away and entered the elevator. The receptionist said something to him, and Mitch looked up toward the meeting room. Tom had barely enough time to step away from the door before Mitch knocked sharply and entered. “Hey, Tom.” Mitch grinned broadly. “What brings you to this part of town?”
“Just wanted to talk, in private.”
“Sounds serious.” Mitch gestured to a chair. “What this about?”
Tom grimaced. There were so many ways to handle the situation poorly or flat out wrongly, and if there was a right way, he didn’t know what it was. “How are things between you and Charlotte?”
To Tom’s surprise, Mitch’s shoulders sagged. The older man huffed out a sigh as he slumped down in a chair. “If you weren’t her brother, I’d be telling you that everything’s all right. Fact is, it’s not.”
Tom took the seat across from him. “Tell me.”
“I think she’s bored.” A faint smile touched Mitch’s face. “You know, when I met her five years ago, she was still living with you, working crazy hours at her job and then coming home to help you care for Aria. In the little free time she had, she volunteered at Hannah’s Hope, the shelter for battered women, spending most of her weekends there.”
Tom nodded. He remembered, too.
“It’s how we met. I’m one of the board members and I stop by every now and again to see how things are going. The director introduced me to her most amazing volunteers, and—” He shrugged. “—Char blew me away—all that energy, that passion for grabbing the reins of life and directing it down the path you want. Not many people—male or female—have that kind of self-determination. I married her; how couldn’t I? She amazed me.”
“And?”
“She’s changed.” He grunted. “And maybe it was my fault. She didn’t need to work, not any more, and her hours kept her from attending important social events with me, so I asked if she wouldn’t mind quitting her job and selling her business.” His mouth twisted. “I think that might have been the beginning of the end.”
“But that was two years ago.”
“The relationship has been in a slow-motion free fall ever since, where you can see it collapsing around you, but the pieces are too small to catch. In public, even at home, it all looks the same, but it’s not.” Their eyes met. “You ever have that feeling, Tom?”
He nodded. “When Lynnette was pregnant. Right before our marriage fell apart.”
“You know, they say women talk—that you can’t get them to stop talking—but if she’s talking at all, it’s not to me. Maybe it’s to her girlfriends.” Mitch frowned at Tom. “Did she talk to you?”
“Not really.”
“Then why are you here?”
“She’s not happy. I can tell.” Tom forced a smile, and tried to make it sound like a joke to lighten the moment. “Just wanted to make sure you weren’t beating her or having an affair.”
Mitch looked away.
Tom’s eyes widened. “You’re having an affair?” He gritted his teeth against the snarl of frustration and disbelief. Didn’t people sleep in their own beds anymore? “Who is it?”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s not her fault, and it’s not serious.”
“There are levels of seriousness to an affair?”
Mitch scowled. “For a lawyer, you’ve got an odd way of seeing things in black and white instead of shades of gray.”
“Shades of gray are how people get into trouble.”
He snorted. “I thought marrying Char would put an end to it, and for a while it did, but then when our marriage started crumbling around the edges—”
“You thought it was okay?”
“No, but I thought it would be nice if a woman looked at me like I meant something to her—the way Char used to look at me.”
“Why don’t you talk to her?”
“What am I supposed to say? Have some wine. Let’s sit by the fireplace, and you tell me what’s wrong?”
“Yeah.”
“Char doesn’t do sappy things like that. She’ll immediately suspect I’m screwing around—”
“Which you are.”
“It doesn’t mean anything.”
“It does to her. I don’t care what levels of seriousness exist in an affair. It’s an affair. You can’t sugarcoat it. You’re cheating on my sister.” And she’s cheating on you. “You guys have to talk about this.”
Mitch’s huff of breath sounded like the grunt of a discontented bulldog. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe in the new year.”
“Why would you put it off if your marriage is falling apart on you?”
“It’s almost Christmas. It’s not the best time to talk about things like these.”
“There is never a good time to talk about things like these. There will always be a reason to put it off. Get it over with.”
Mitch scowled down at the table for a moment before looking up at Tom. “She didn’t send you?”
Tom shook his head.
“She didn’t say anything to you?”
“No.”
Mitch sighed. “I’ll think about it.”
“If I thought my marriage was at stake, I’d do more than just think about it.”
A wry half-smile touched Mitch’s lips. “Survived the end of my first. The second…I really thought Char was the one I’d grow old with. Didn’t think she’d get tired of me first.”
“You won’t know what she is or how she’s feeling until you talk to her, and it’s not over until both of you decide to stop working to keep your marriage alive.”
Mitch chuckled wryly. “You should have been a marriage counselor.”
“I wasn’t any good at keeping my marriage alive either. I saw all the warning signs, and thought it was just a pregnancy thing, that it would resolve itself if I gave Lynnette time and space. I should have talked about it. We never did. She left before we could
ever have that conversation.”
Mitch nodded and rose to his feet. “Are you coming over for Christmas Eve dinner?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.” Mitch grinned suddenly. “Bring a date. Char worries about you being alone for so long. Bachelorhood is habit-forming.”
“I don’t know many women who’d want to take on a ready-made family.”
“You haven’t been looking in the right places.”
“I suppose you know where to look.”
“Not at the shelter, that’s for sure. Those women have lots of love to give—too much, or they wouldn’t have stayed with their boyfriends or husbands for nearly as long as they did—but they’re skittish, and rightly so. Too badly hurt to trust easily again. Anyway, I’ll keep an eye out for a woman for you; maybe make an introduction or two.”
Tom bit back the question that immediately came to his mind. Will you introduce me to Sheridan? Was she Mitch’s affair? Damn it to hell.
Chapter 6
Sheridan and Tom’s second official date was a stroll through Chinatown. Tom was already waiting outside the bakery when Sheridan stepped out of the subway station. As she approached, he straightened and waved to her. Sheridan leaned in to touch her cheek to his, and felt him stiffen, but only slightly. “Where’s Aria?” she asked.
“With my sister. Charlotte likes having Aria over a few times a week.”
“You’re lucky to have family like that,” Sheridan said. She gestured down the street. “Shall we? I can’t wait to show you some of my favorite Chinatown stores.”
“Sure.” After a scarcely noticeable hesitation, he offered her his arm.
She slid her hand through the crook of his elbow. She might have been offended if his uncertainty hadn’t simultaneously seemed so sweet. “We’ll be eating all day,” she told him. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“Hungry enough.” He looked around. “I’m holding you to your word to introduce me to foods I’ve never had before.”
“Only if you agree not to ask what it is before trying it.”
His slight frown made her laugh.
“It won’t kill you,” she promised. “At least not right away.”
“Not big into assuring people, are you?”