Valerie
Hopping down the stairs, I pushed open the door at the end of the hall to cross the bridge, and a small smile permanently tilted my lips. No one really liked Monday, but I could feel it in my bones that something great was going to happen today. We had ample time to set up our plan, and Carlyle promised to take me on a date tonight. All the buzzing activity had calmed down seemingly overnight, and I could barely feel all the alcohol I’d drunk yesterday.
“Good morning!” Emerging into the borrowed conference room, I paused at the intensely serious air that hit me like a brick wall, and Fred glanced up from his tablet absently. “What’s up?”
“We got a lot of work to do. I wasn’t able to recover nearly as much from my tablet as I thought. Carlyle’s guy even went through it, and no luck.” Frowning slightly, I nodded as my mind whirred, and Marshal gestured to a random seat from his own at the back end of the table. “Get to it, Valerie. Where’s Natasha?”
“I thought she was here already. She wasn’t home when I woke up.” I sat down to grab the sketch pad laid out for me, and Marshal grumbled to himself as he rubbed his face. “It’s fine. Her laptop was in her room, so it wasn’t affected by the blast, right?”
“I’m just upset. I have to go back today to get my mail. My landlady said a certified letter came for me.” A soft ‘ah’ breached my lips, and Fred scoffed lowly from his seat across from me.
“You need to set that bitch straight. You two have been married for thirteen years, and it’s not like you’re neglecting her or anything. Just because she fell out of love with you doesn’t give her the right to act like a bitch.” He seemed arguably more bitter about Marshal’s impending divorce than even Marshal did, and Fred shot his friend a stern look. “Did the lawyer Carlyle promised you get back to you yet?”
“Yeah, he said he’ll be up from New York City on Wednesday, and we have that meeting with the marketer on Thursday, and . . . I’m not nearly prepared for that. The good thing, if there is one, is this lawyer is confident he can force Jenna to drop her claims. I’m sure she would once she knows what I know about the situation, but I looked up his name, and he’s really, really aggressive.” I wondered for a moment if Marshal was more torn up about his wife leaving him than what she wanted him to shell out. They’d married for a reason, after all, and her change of tune happened before we’d even met. Truthfully, I wasn’t going to pry, but Marshal didn’t seem to need any prodding as he sighed heavily. “I don’t understand why Jenna’s going after me for the house, the cars, everything. She makes more than I do . . . always has.”
“It sucks, Marshal, but everything will be okay.” My reassurance fell flat, but I had nothing else to say because I’d never been divorced. Fred grumbled to himself, and the atmosphere was decidedly negative as I tapped my pencil on my pad. Glancing between the two, I rolled my lips between my teeth as they sat, still and unproductive. “Do you guys wanna go out and have some bro time or something? We’re not going to get anything done, and the meeting on Thursday, it’s just with a marketer. It’s not like we have to pitch anything, just have a general marketing plan.”
“Yeah.” My lips twitched up sadly, and Marshal leaned back in his chair to rub his face roughly, curling his fingers into his hair. “You’re right, Val. It’s not a pitch.”
The doors at the front of the room swung open, and I twisted in my seat as Natasha and Carlyle came waltzing through. My heart stuttered at her huge smile that had never dimmed, remaining bright and perpetual like the sun.
“We’re going onvaca-a-a-tion!” Dancing a little on her way towards me, Natasha gripped the back of my chair to swing me side to side, and my brows raised in surprise. “The Vegas trip is back on! Woo!”
“What? But what about the meeting Thursday?” Confusion lilted my voice, and Natasha shook her head as Carlyle sat on the edge of the table. We had alotto do, and vacation right now wasn’t exactly on the agenda.
“It’s not a weeklong trip, just two days. After the past few weeks, I thought you two could use some stress-free, guilt-free fun. We’ll be back late Tuesday night.” Answering my whirling questions, Carlyle caught my gaze and held it, and the gravity of his stare dragged down the corners of my mouth. “I know you were excited to go. I still have to make a trip to Reno, but the flight is only an hour.”
“O-oh . . . we were going on a date tonight.”
“We are.” My brows rose higher, and he nodded at my sister even though his gaze didn’t leave me. “I’m an innocent bystander in all this.”
“Do you just not talk to me first and go around making plans without me that involve me? I don’t really want to go right now. We have a lot to do, and you said it yourself, Carlyle. You’re not going to help us more than you already have. We succeed ourselves.” His lips thinned, and shadows played in his eyes as I crossed my arms and slumped back in my chair. “Why not let Natasha, Fred, and Marshal go together? We were just talking about them having some bro time because we’re not gonna get anything done like this.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Bro time, by definition, excludes me, so . . . ”
“We were going to exclude you for sexy time, so what’s the difference?” Flopping my head back, I frowned at my sister as she tinged pink in the face, and I inhaled a breath through flared nostrils. “I don’t want to go. Fred and Marshal want to do something, and Carlyle only wants to go because he thought I wanted to go. What’s the difference, spending time here or in a hotel room in Vegas?”
Turning to Carlyle as I spoke, I arched a brow quizzically, and he only shook his head mutely. Silence met my question, and I hoisted myself out of the chair to walk the short distance to him. The closer I came, the more stony his expression, and my heart ached for him as I palmed his sides.
“You don’t have to have anywhere to go or anything to do to entice me to spend time with you, Carlyle. We . . . we talked about this, remember? And the only reason I wanted to go was that we could spend time together.” He had to decency to look a little guilty through the crack in his facade, and I rolled my bottom lip between my teeth to gnaw diligently. My brows furrowed, and I cupped his chin very gently when it seemed like he’d look away. “Hey, it’s hard to change what you always knew. I get that.”
Carlyle never had to answer to anyone but his father. He made decisions, and people fell over themselves to obey. He had an idea, and other people changed their plans to accommodate, not him. Everything he did was right, even when it wasn’t.
“Does anyone care if we want to go?” Carlyle blinked as Marshal cleared his throat roughly, and I didn’t protest when he leaned back to run his hand through his thick hair. Sliding off the table, he tugged smooth his jacket and physically shirked his feelings for the moment to nod firmly. “Because I’d really enjoy going, honestly. I have some money saved up that was supposed to go to a lawyer. Maybe, I’ll get lucky and win something cool.”
“You’re right, Valerie.” His tone thickened with an apology, and I ducked my head as a small smile crested my cheeks. Turning to Marshal and Fred, he nodded again curtly. “You should go. I’ll have Jerry do the tickets. You’ll be going with Theo and Illya, so I hope it’s not too awkward considering you’re pretty much strangers.”
“Can they drink a lot?” Nodding again at Fred’s question, Carlyle’s jaw ticked, and my coworker— or business partner?— shrugged out of the corner of my eye. “Then, we’ll be best friends by the time we get back.”
“I’ll set it up.” Casting me a long look, Carlyle slowly turned to leave the room, and I dropped into my chair to close my eyes and sigh heavily. He’d done things he wouldn’t tell me about, gone around me to Natasha about my mom, and I knew he wanted to keep me at arm’s length.
But it just . . . it didn’t work like that.
