California Girls

by Susan Mallery

  “Your empire,” she teased.

  “I like it.” He grabbed a rib. “My dad took Glen to try out the bikes when he was nine. I remember being really upset because my mom said I had to wait until I was his age to ride a bike. Glen went a couple of times and hated it. I begged and begged and my mom finally relented when I turned eight. My uncle set me on my bike and I was hooked.”

  “When Glen first told me who you were, I looked you up,” she admitted. “You’ve won a lot of championships. You were a big deal.”

  His mouth turned up at the corner. “I like to think I still am.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

  “Yes, I do. I worked hard and I had some breaks.”

  More than that, she thought. The motocross circuit was grueling, with twelve races over four months. The racers crisscrossed the country with as little as a week between some races. Not much time for bodies to heal and equipment to be repaired.

  In addition to being physically fit and skilled enough to compete, the riders had to have sponsors. The bikes and gear weren’t cheap, nor were entry fees or transportation. Daniel had been on top for three years before walking away a winner.

  “What made you give it up?” she asked.

  “I knew the odds of something going wrong. I meant what I said—I was lucky. There were pileups that I avoided and even when I couldn’t, I managed to walk away. But eventually everyone has a bad crash and I didn’t want to stick around for mine. It’s a young man’s game.”

  She wanted to joke that he wasn’t that old now, but she knew what he meant. Every professional athlete paid a physical price for being the best. Motocross was no different.

  “Back to my uncle,” he said. “I was in my last year of racing and talked to him about buying into the business. I had plans to expand what he was doing, and we were both excited about that.” Daniel’s expression sobered. “He had a massive stroke and died in his sleep. No one saw it coming and we were all devastated.”

  “You especially,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks. Me, too. I still miss him. He was a great guy. He believed in me from the first. Anyway, he left me pretty much everything. Glen got a hundred thousand dollars, but that was it. He was pissed because he thought we should have both been left half. He threatened to sue the estate.”

  “But he’d never had anything to do with the business. You’d been involved since you were eight.”

  “He didn’t see it that way. He ended up not suing, though. I suspect a couple of lawyers told him he didn’t have a case.”

  She groaned. “I can’t believe I was so incredibly stupid as to think he was a decent human being.” She scooped up more shrimp. “I know what it was—I felt like he saw me, which probably doesn’t make sense to you. You’ve never been invisible, but trust me, it’s not fun. Even with my parents. Finola is my mom’s favorite and Zennie is so my dad’s. That left me with exactly zero parents. I’m not trying to say poor me or anything like that, but when I met Glen, he seemed to be really interested in me. I guess I was wrong about that.”

  “Whatever happened in your relationship isn’t your fault. It’s all on him.”

  “While I’d like that to be true, we both know that in any relationship, both parties are to blame.”

  “That’s pretty rational for less than a week into the breakup.”

  She sighed. “I know and in a way, it’s really sad. I mean if I can think that clearly, doesn’t it mean that I was a whole lot less in love with him than I thought? In some ways that’s worse. I should still be crushed and hysterical, but I’m not.”

  He glanced at her quizzically. “I didn’t know you had curly hair.”

  “Oh.” She touched the now-dry curls. “I usually blow it out straight.”

  “Why? The curls look great on you.”

  “Thank you. Glen didn’t like them.”

  Rather than comment on that, Daniel rose and walked to the refrigerator. “Another beer?”

  “Yes, please.” When he was seated, she said, “I appreciate you not judging me for being so stupid about your brother.”

  “I can’t explain Glen, but I do know he’s going to be sorry he lost you.”

  “I can only hope,” she said lightly. “Now let’s see... I’ve whined about my family, my ex-fiancé and pretty much everything else. I’m going to be done now. Let’s talk about happy things.”

  “You mentioned you had to move. What’s up with that?”

  “Not a happy topic.”

  He waited.

  “Fine,” she grumbled and explained about the lease. “I’m looking for something now. It’s just I need it so fast. No way I’m moving in with my mom. When Finola gets back from Hawaii I might ask if I can crash in her guest room for a few weeks while I get it all together. Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out, I swear.”

  Daniel studied her for a second, then nodded. “I know you will. Now about those happy topics, I bought us tickets to another Dodgers game.”

  “You did? Yay! I can’t wait. I had such a good time.”

  “Me, too.”

  His gaze locked with hers and for a brief second, she would have sworn she felt something. Not heat, exactly, but something unexpected, like a pretingle.

  Stop, she told herself sternly. Just stop. Daniel was being the world’s nicest guy when he didn’t have to do anything. He’d saved her. The last thing she was going to do was turn weird and get some kind of inappropriate crush on him. He would be embarrassed, she would be humiliated and it was a terrible way to thank him for all he’d done. No, she would be a good friend who didn’t take advantage of him. As for the almost-tingles, well, no doubt they were the result of too much Chinese food. In the morning she would be completely fine.

  Chapter Eight

  Cheetos stains were difficult to remove. Finola had never had to learn that before, what with rarely eating carbs, but in the past few days she’d let go of alcohol and had moved on to Cheetos. Cheetos and potato chips with ranch dip and, embarrassingly enough, a box of instant mashed potatoes. She felt bloated and a little nauseous and worried when she realized there were orange fingerprints all through the downstairs.

  After spray cleaner and a sponge had done little, she’d found one of those white eraser things and it had done an excellent job on everything but her laptop, where she’d spent hours looking at funny baby videos while sobbing for the child she and Nigel would never have, and eating Cheetos.

  Under normal circumstances, she would have left the stains for the cleaning service that would start up again next week, only these circumstances weren’t normal.

  Nigel had texted to say he was back from the Bahamas and wanted to come by. She’d read his words a dozen times, trying to find hidden meaning in the brief message. Was he coming by to pick up something? To talk to her? To beg her to reconcile? She had a feeling it wasn’t the latter, but she couldn’t help hoping for the best.

  To that end, she showered and washed her hair, using a scented body wash Nigel liked. While she dried her hair, she applied a plumping eye mask under her eyes, then put on just enough makeup to look fresh.

  What to wear required thought. She wanted to look fabulous without appearing to have actually tried. She pulled on jeans and a tank top, then a loose weave sweater that always fell off one shoulder. Flat sandals completed the outfit. She knew she looked good, at least for her. When compared with the twentysomething Treasure, she was less sure.

  She went downstairs to wait for Nigel. Emotions chased each other through her stomach. She tried to hang on to righteous anger and indignation—they would give her strength. Unfortunately loneliness and hurt were right there beside their friends and threatened to take her down.

  She tried to relax on the sofa, then got up and paced. She was just about to retreat to her office where she could at least preten
d to be busy on her laptop when she heard Nigel at the front door. He turned the handle and walked into their living room.

  Her heart jumped in her chest, a happy bounce filled with love and hope. He looked good. Nigel was tall and lean, with curly brown hair and hazel eyes. Normally he looked slightly harried and tired but today he was tan and relaxed. At least until he saw her.

  “Oh, you’re here.”

  Her happy heart deflated. “What do you mean? You said you wanted to talk.”

  “No, I said I wanted to come by.” He looked away. “I’m sorry. I should have been more clear.”

  There was something in his tone, she thought in dismay. As if she were an unwelcome inconvenience. Not that an inconvenience was ever welcome, but how could he sound like that? She was his wife!

  She half turned away, then forced herself to stare him down. He wore khakis and a Hawaiian shirt she’d never seen before. Despite his obvious discomfort, there was a contentment about him, no doubt brought on by sex with Treasure.

  She squared her shoulders. “This is my house, Nigel. Where else would I be? Oh, wait, I know. Hawaii with my husband. Hmm, what happened there?”

  Nigel had never handled guilt well. She waited for him to shift uneasily and then start talking. She found herself anticipating the apology and told herself no matter what, she would wait before she begged him to come back to her.

  “Do we have to discuss this now?” he asked.

  “Why yes, we do.” She walked toward him. “I think our marriage is worth a few minutes of our time.”

  He was being a jerk on purpose, she told herself. Trying to rile her so she would lash out and he could play the victim. He wanted to distract her so he wasn’t the bad guy. Well, he could try, but that wasn’t going to happen. He’d betrayed her. Betrayed them. He’d let her face his mistress on her own, on live television. He’d never warned her, never even hinted about what was going to happen.

  “I’m sorry about what happened,” he said.

  Before she could go off on a rant he more than deserved, he added, “But I really just wanted to get my ski stuff.”

  His statement was so at odds with what she was thinking that she had trouble processing the meaning.

  “It’s almost summer.”

  He sighed heavily. “Yes, Finola. It’s summer here, in the northern hemisphere. In the southern hemisphere, it’s nearly winter and there’s good skiing. We’re going to Valle Nevado in Tres Valles, Chile.”

  He glanced toward the garage, where his ski equipment was stored, then back at her.

  “I suppose you’re right. We should talk.”

  “Talk?” she asked, feeling anger burning inside of her. “No, Nigel, I don’t want to talk. I want you drawn and quartered. I want you suffering in every way possible. How could you do this? It’s one thing to have an affair. That’s its own pool of slime, but what you did to me last Friday was inhuman.”

  “Don’t you think that’s a little dramatic?”

  “No, I don’t. You announced you were having an affair right before I was going on live television. As if that wasn’t bad enough, you didn’t have the balls to tell me your mistress was my first guest.”

  His eyes widened. “She told you?”

  “Of course she told me. Why do you think she booked the show in the first place? It certainly wasn’t for the exposure. She told me and left me hanging there, not knowing if she was about to announce it to the world on my show!”

  He had the grace to look chagrined. “I didn’t know that. I didn’t think she would...”

  “You suspected it, otherwise why tell me about the affair?”

  His shoulders slumped a little, as if the guilt was starting to get to him.

  “I can’t believe you did this. I can’t believe you abandoned our marriage. What were you thinking?”

  He straightened and glared at her. “I was thinking that you walked out on us a long time ago. You’re all about your career. Nothing else matters, certainly not me. You put off having kids for five years. Five. Every year we’d talk about it and you said it wasn’t a good time. Well, I got tired of waiting.”

  “Poor you. Is Treasure going to give you children? I don’t think so. This is just like you, blaming me for what you did. You’ve always done that. I never cheated, I never moved out, but hey, sure, make me the bad guy.”

  “I had to do this, Finola. I didn’t have a choice.”

  “There’s always a choice.”

  His tone gentled. “No, there isn’t. I wasn’t looking for anyone. I’ve never done this before. I was doing consults and she came in with a girlfriend who had a botched nose job. The second I saw her, it was electric. I can’t explain it, but one minute everything was ordinary and the next, it wasn’t.”

  Each word stabbed her, going so deep she didn’t know how she stayed standing. There was too much pain, too much of her love for him pouring out until she knew she would die. She had to—no one could survive this.

  “So that’s it?” she managed, pressing her hand to her midsection to physically hold herself intact. “We’re through?”

  “I don’t know. I honest to God don’t know.” He looked at her. “I have to be with her. I’m sorry if that hurts you but that’s where I am. I hope you can understand.”

  Understand his affair? Understand how magical it was? “I don’t want to understand, you asshole. I don’t care how great things are. You are destroying us. We are never going to be able to put the pieces back together. Don’t you see that?”

  “I see I’ve hurt you and that was never what I wanted. I wish...”

  “What? Oh dear God, don’t you dare say you wish you could have us both. Don’t be that much of a jackass.”

  She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to stab him and beat him and most of all, worst of all, she wanted to beg him to not want Treasure anymore.

  She hated him and loved him and hated herself for her weakness. She knew, no matter what, she couldn’t give in to it. She couldn’t say the words because if she begged, she would never be able to recover.

  “Treasure has a reputation for using up her lovers and tossing them aside,” she said instead. “Have you considered that?”

  “I have, but it will be different this time.”

  For the first time since hearing the news, Finola’s smile was genuine. “Is that what you think? That you’re her one true love and you’ll be together forever? She’s what, fifteen years younger than you, and one of the most famous women in the world. She has a thing for married men. I’m sorry to break it to you, but you are just one of many.”

  “You don’t know what it’s like with her.”

  “Maybe not, but I’m familiar with Treasure’s type. I have loved you for a long time, Nigel, but make no mistake, you’re not going to win her heart. Not the way you think.”

  Her brief moment of humor and bravado faded, leaving her bleeding once again. She felt old and used and more tired than she’d ever been in her life. There was nothing to be done here, she thought grimly. Better to just have him gone.

  “Take your ski trip and enjoy your pop singer. When things go bad just remember the price you’ve paid. When she’s done with you and you want to come home, it’s going to be too late. In the end, you will have lost everything and all for a piece of ass.”

  “Don’t call her that.”

  His defense of Treasure was yet another slap. As the words hit her, Finola realized she had nothing left. No way to convince him, no actions to show him. It was as if all the years of their marriage had never been. Nigel was on a romance high and until he crashed, he wasn’t the least bit interested in them or her or what they’d had together. Their joint life was nothing but something he had to escape.

  She pointed to the garage. “Get your crap and get out.”

  He started to speak, only to shake his head and wa
lk away. She went into her office where she looked up a locksmith online and called.

  “Yes, I need to get all my locks changed. Today, if possible. Four o’clock is great. Yes, I’ll be here.”

  She gave her address and hung up. It was a small gesture, but at least it was something. She felt shattered and vulnerable, but despite how much she hurt, she wasn’t going to die. Not even if she wanted to, which meant she had to take one step, then another. She’d never given up on anything in her life. She sure as hell wasn’t giving up on herself.

  * * *

  Zennie parked in front of the house and pulled out her phone. The text from her mother, sent to all three sisters, reminded them of the meeting they all had Friday afternoon to talk about how they were going to help her go through the house. Finola was still in Hawaii and was excused, but the rest of them were expected to be there, and on time.

  “The rest of us?” Zennie asked out loud. “That would be Ali and me. You could actually use our names, Mom.”

  But that thought was for herself. She dutifully texted back that she would be there, then turned off her car and walked up to the house.

  Bernie opened the door before she could knock. The two friends looked at each other before Bernie said, “I know this is awkward. I want to make it clear that whatever you’ve decided, you’ll always be my best friend. If the answer’s no, I’ll never bring it up again and we’ll go on as we were, I swear.”

  She stepped back. “Come on in. Hayes is in the living room.”

  The two-story house was typical for the neighborhood—twenty-eight hundred square feet, four bedrooms, with a formal dining room and a great room. About fifteen years before, an old shopping center had been torn down and houses put in its place. There were wide sidewalks, a playground and access to a desirable school system.

  Bernie and Hayes had bought the house right before their wedding and had been so excited to move in. Over the past few years, they’d done some updating and had turned the tract home into their own.