Life Shocks Romances Collection 4

by Jade Kerrion

  “Get out.”

  “You’re going to pay. You and her both.” Lucy spun around. The front door slammed behind her, the impact rattling the glass in the windows.

  Phil pressed both of his hands against the sides of his head. Crazy women. Always looking for love, insisting on it where there’s none—or where there should be none. And Marie… He paced the narrow corridor of his cottage. Lucy was no longer on his mind. He had mentally dismissed her the moment the door closed on her. But Marie…Marie was a problem who would not go away, not even for her own safety.

  It had taken a divorce to send her away the first time.

  What happens after a divorce?

  What’s the only thing that can separate us now? Death?

  Chapter 6

  The next morning, Marie sat stiffly in the chair across from Dr. Biles, a stocky African-American man who exuded warm geniality. His eyes, however, seemed to see right through her. “So, how may I help you today?”

  “I’d like to know how to help someone who’s struggling with anger management issues as a result of PTSD.” She bit her lip at the faint hint of a smile on Dr. Biles’s face. “You see, he’s changing—he’s getting better—and I know I need to change too.” Her mouth twisted into a wry half-smile. “I probably get into his face too much, and he tells me I never know when to back down.”

  The psychiatrist nodded. Marie suspected he had heard that too, directly from Phil. “There are a few generic tips for anger management, but a lot of it comes down to the individual. People cope in different ways. Let’s take, for example, one of my current patients—”

  He did not wink at Marie, neither did he mention any names, but he was obviously on to her. All of the coping mechanisms he discussed she had seen Phil use—the deliberate uncurling of his fists, the straightening of his shoulders, the slow and deep breaths, and the surprisingly erotic touch of his pulse against hers. There were others, of course, and Marie furiously scribbled notes as he talked of what her response should be.

  “It won’t come naturally,” Dr. Biles said as he wrapped up the discussion.

  Nope, Marie agreed. A lot of the advice came down to impeccable timing—knowing when to walk away—and she had always been appallingly bad at walking away.

  “But,” the doctor went on, “it’s never about that one conversation, or that one fight, if it even comes down to that. It’s about talking another day, fighting another day. It’s a change in mindset, realizing that the option to change and to grow is always available, and making a commitment to do so together.”

  “Yes, I see.”

  “One more thing, you need to understand what kind of person you’re dealing with. If that person’s a straight-talker, someone who doesn’t play word games, just accept his words at face value. Don’t try to attribute more than he intends. Keeping his words honest is his responsibility. Listening to them carefully is yours.”

  How many times had Phil asked that of her? Don’t overanalyze. Don’t overthink. Marie stared down at her notes. “I’m here on vacation for a few weeks. Would it be okay if I made a few more appointments with you? I want to see how these techniques work, and then I might need to come back for more advice.”

  “I’m your cheerleader,” Dr. Biles said.

  Marie pictured him in a cheerleader’s uniform. She giggled at the image, and laughed when she realized he was swinging his arms back and forth, waving imaginary pom-poms.

  He grinned. “Just make an appointment with Nancy out front.”

  “Thank you, and I’ll be back.” Marie let herself out of Dr. Biles’s office and was surprised to see Rio still waiting at the reception area where he had dropped her off an hour earlier. “Were you here the whole time?”

  He gestured at the television. “It’s the only place I can watch soap opera without being called out for it. So, how was it?”

  “Good. I’ll tell you in a minute.” She turned to Nancy who sat behind the counter. “I’d like to make another appointment, please?”

  “Next week? I’ve got openings on Tuesday and Thursday. What time works best for you?”

  Marie hesitated. “Do you know when Phil Casteen’s next appointment is?”

  Nancy glanced at the old-fashioned appointment book with patient names scrawled illegibly in pencil. “Nothing scheduled for him yet. He usually makes his appointments when he can afford them.”

  “Afford them?”

  “No insurance. He pays cash.”

  Marie’s eyes widened. “Oh…and how often does he come in?”

  “Well, he used to come once a week in the beginning. Now he’s down to once every two or three weeks.”

  “Because he’s better?”

  “You’ll have to ask the doctor. I know only that his account is 30-days overdue. I suspect money’s a bit tight. Do you want to schedule your appointment?”

  “Tuesday morning, if you have something available.”

  Nancy reached for her pencil. “Dr. Biles will see you at ten.”

  Marie turned back to Rio and scarcely managed to wait until they were out of the clinic. “Did you know?”

  “About what?”

  “Phil’s money problems?”

  Rio shrugged. “His salary is his salary. Making it all line up with what he needs to get done is part of life’s most basic challenges.”

  “But he’s never been even a day late with his alimony.” Alimony she didn’t actually need, not since winning that lottery.

  “Priorities.”

  “But he’s not getting the psychological help he needs. And he’s certainly not seeing the doctor he needs for his nerve damage.”

  “Like I said, priorities.”

  Marie bristled at Rio’s indifferent tone, but before she could leap—figuratively—at his throat, he continued. “Providing for you means more to Phil than providing for himself.”

  And just like that, he punctured her anger.

  Her heart ached. “But why?”

  “Love.” Rio shrugged. “There isn’t anything rational about it.”

  Marie frowned. There it was again—that bitter twist in his otherwise nonchalant voice. A glance at Rio’s face, however, told her that the truth would not be easily pried out of him. “Wait here a minute.” She dashed back into the clinic and pulled out her checkbook. “How much are Phil’s sessions with Dr. Biles?”

  “Hundred and fifty per hour,” Nancy said.

  Marie wrote out a check, dashed her name on the signature line, and handed it to Nancy.

  The older woman’s eyes widened. “That’ll pay for a hundred consultations.”

  Marie was smiling as she walked out of the clinic, a bounce to her step. Rio’s grin looked as wide as she knew her own to be. Obviously, he approved. “Do you know which physical therapist he goes to?” she asked.

  “I know he’s been to one, and only once.”

  Marie’s eyebrows drew together.

  “Trade-offs,” Rio said. “Priorities.”

  Right. Money. Always making tough choices on whom to pay first. “How do you know so much about Phil’s life?”

  “I’m a writer. I watch people. It’s a bad habit I have. Shall we head over to the clinic now?”

  The physical therapist’s clinic was not far away. After all, nothing in Key West was far from each other. Once there, Marie confirmed that Phil was a patient at the clinic before writing another check for his treatment. Tens of thousands of dollars poorer, but the happier for it, Marie and Rio strolled back to the resort.

  “I never thought we would have a second chance, not after he completely shut me out,” she said, hugging her handbag to her chest. “But all this time, he’s been trying to get better.”

  “Yes, he has,” Rio agreed. “I’ve baited him lots of times. He hasn’t snapped yet.”

  Marie looked up at him with a twinkle in her eye. “So you admit you were baiting him yesterday with all that flirting.”

  “Of course. Worked, didn’t it? Of course, if he didn’t
fall for it, a bit of flirting would have helped lay the groundwork with you.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  She giggled. “You’re a clown. I can’t ever take you seriously.”

  “Darn, you’ve seen right through me. Does that mean we’re not going to run away together and get married?”

  “Not until I’ve given myself another shot at getting things right.” Marie forced herself to take slow, deep breaths, but her heartbeat refused to be lulled into a steady state—not with so much tied up in this impossible chance that she had never thought she would have with Phil again. “I just know it, Rio. We’re going to make it right. Phil and I were always meant to be, from that moment years ago when he came across my broken-down car in Long Island and saved me. I knew it was a sign.” She glanced at Rio. “You don’t believe me.”

  Rio’s response was exactly what she had come to expect from him—open-minded and easygoing. “It doesn’t matter what I believe. What matters is that you do, and hey, if it makes you happy—”

  They walked around a curve in the path, and the main building of the resort came into view. Leaning against the wall of her resort, her back to them, was the night receptionist, Lucy. She was talking animatedly on her cell phone. “He proposed! Can you believe it, ma? Finally!” She extended her right hand in front of her; a ring caught a ray of sunlight and shot it back. “I know it’s been a while, but he didn’t have the money before, and he wanted to do right by me.” She caressed her stomach in an unmistakable gesture. “Everything’s going to be okay now. He’ll have more than enough to support me and the baby…Oh, from his ex-wife. Apparently, she bought a lottery ticket before they divorced, and half the money is his. He spoke to his lawyer, and we’re going to squeeze his fair share out of her…We’ll set the date after we get our money. Our life will be amazing. Phil’s finally going to get everything he deserves—”

  Marie spun around and dashed down the pathway. Her breaths hitched over the stabbing pain in her chest. Tears blinded her.

  Racing footsteps sounded behind her. A strong hand grabbed her arm and yanked her back. A car horn blared. The screech of brakes screamed of her near-brush with death.

  She suddenly found herself wrapped in Rio’s safe embrace. His heart was thumping as quickly as hers. “Jeez, Marie. You could have been killed.”

  She couldn’t answer. Her lips moved, shaping inaudible words that refused to make it past the chokehold on her throat. She didn’t resist when Rio guided her around the resort compound along a narrow path back to her cottage. He leaned her against a pillar on the patio of her cottage. “Key?”

  Marie handed him her handbag and almost immediately missed the comfort of its weight against her chest. It helped keep her heart in her body instead of it ripping out, the way it felt like doing. She swiped the tears away from her eyes, but she was almost immediately blinded by them again.

  She heard the door open, and then Rio’s arms were around her again, guiding her into the cool interior of her cottage. He settled her on the couch. “Do you want tea or whiskey?”

  “Yesterday, on the beach. What Phil said about loving me, that he had never stopped…it was a lie. He wanted the money.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “You heard her. He proposed to her! He promised that their money troubles were over!”

  Rio shrugged. “It’s what she said, not what he said.”

  “Why would she lie? She wasn’t talking to us. Her back was to us. She didn’t even see us coming.”

  “Didn’t she?”

  “What are you saying?”

  Rio stepped away from the couch and walked into the kitchenette. For several minutes, Marie watched in silence as he heated water on the stovetop for two mugs of tea. She couldn’t think straight. Her head was too fuzzy, as if her brain were too soaked with tears to plod through a logical thought process. Instead, stray memories from her previous day’s conversation with Phil bombarded her. “I’m making the life here that I’ve always wanted.”

  Weren’t those words merely Phil’s ridiculous, heroic attempt to keep her safe by sending her away?

  Or had he meant them exactly as he had said them?

  Had she done, yet again, what he had always accused her—hearing but not really listening, and filling in his words with her intent?

  He had a woman he loved in Key West—and it was not her.

  It was Phil’s second chance, but not hers.

  His second chance with a woman who was carrying his child.

  Why didn’t he just tell her? She could handle the truth, even when it hurt…no, not hurt. Hurt was too mild a term for the burning pain in her chest. She could handle the truth, even when it felt like dying. Marie dragged air into her lungs, a shuddering sound. She rose slowly and unsteadily to her feet. “I have to talk to him.”

  “Okay,” Rio said simply. “And Marie…”

  His words stopped her before she stepped out of the door. She glanced back over her shoulder.

  “Listen to him,” Rio said.

  She scowled. “I’ve heard too much.”

  “No, I mean it. Listen to him. Hear him out.”

  Marie’s scowl faded into a frown. “What are you trying to say?”

  He shrugged. “You’ll have to figure it out. This is about the two of you.”

  “Oh no. You’re not getting out of it so easily. You set me up to reconcile with Phil, and you’ve implied that Lucy’s conversation was staged, but I can’t possibly see how. She didn’t see us coming, and besides, what does she have to gain by lying about something like this?”

  “Isn’t that something you and Phil should talk about?”

  “The money…it’s half his, isn’t it? I bought the ticket before we divorced.”

  Rio shrugged. “It would depend on the laws in your state. I’m not a lawyer. I wouldn’t know.”

  Her lawyer, Nicole Lefton, would. Marie snatched up her cell phone and scrolled through its directory. Her thoughts whirled like dizzy marionettes in contrast to the leaden feeling in the pit of her stomach. Money. It always came down to money.

  “Hey, Marie.” Nicole picked up on the third ring. “How is your holiday going?”

  “Phil’s here.”

  “Phil’s where? In Key West?”

  “Yes, working at the resort where I decided to vacation.”

  “Wow, that’s a crazy coincidence. I thought he didn’t like the beach?”

  “Apparently, he didn’t like going with me, but didn’t have any qualms going alone, or with someone else.”

  “Someone else?” Nicole paused. “Oh, Marie. I’m sorry.”

  “And now he’s after the money.”

  “Your lottery money? He can’t take that from you. You won after you were divorced.”

  “But I bought the ticket before we divorced.”

  “You did?”

  Marie’s heart sank. “You didn’t know? I bought it from the convenience store in the lobby of your office building before I went up to sign the papers. Is it true? Is he entitled to half the money?”

  Nicole breathed out a heavy sigh. “It’s not straightforward. New York is an equitable distribution state. It doesn’t mean a 50-50 split. The fact that you bought the ticket before the divorce but won the money after complicates it further. It’s going to take a fair bit of negotiation to iron out. Did he say he wanted the money?”

  “Yes.”

  Rio cut in. “No.”

  Marie glared at Rio as Nicole asked. “Who’s that?”

  “A friend. An interfering friend.”

  Nicole huffed. “Did Phil tell you he wanted the money?”

  Marie frowned. “Not directly.”

  “So he implied it?”

  “No, I overheard someone say that he wanted it.” Even as Marie spoke the words, she realized how ridiculous it sounded. “It’s not quite like hearing it from him, is it?”

  “Not even close,” Nicole said. “Well, I’m not going to do anything unless he or his
lawyer calls. The divorce is done, and the property divided. The judge is not going to reopen the case unless there’s an official motion filed to do so, and then it’s going to be a can of worms.”

  “It’s just money.”

  “Money is a proxy for many things—power, love—it’s never just about money. Either way, I’m not going to jump the gun. The ball’s in Phil’s court, although I’m surprised it didn’t come up earlier. I’m checking the dates of the New York State lottery right now…If he were paying attention, he would have realized that you had to have bought the ticket before the divorce was finalized. It was the last possible day anyone could have bought a winning ticket. He could have contested the prize money the moment you won. Why wait?”

  “I…don’t know,” Marie stammered.

  “It’s worth finding out. Knowledge is a weapon.”

  “I don’t want this to turn into a fight. Phil needs the money. He needs it to get better.” The moment Marie said it, the weight vanished off her chest. Suddenly, her thoughts seemed clearer. “I can give him the money, can’t I?”

  “Well, there are all kinds of double taxation implications if you give Phil more than the federal gift limit, but it boils down to the fact that it’s your money. You can give it to whomever you want, as long as the feds feel like they’re getting their fair share.”

  “So if I write a check…?”

  “It’s your call,” Nicole said, but even across the distance, Marie could sense Nicole’s frown of disapproval. “Nothing about this situation is simple, so please don’t rush into things. If he really is interested in the money, then my advice to you, as a lawyer, is to not talk to him at all.”

  Marie winced. “Not at all? Not a word?”

  “That is free legal advice for you.”

  “And what’s the free personal advice?”

  Nicole was silent for a moment. “Do you remember after he shot himself, when he was still in the hospital? He’d just regained consciousness, and he had asked for me.”

  “Yes, I do.” That had hurt. The first person Phil had asked for upon regaining consciousness had been Nicole—not his parents; not even Marie.