It seemslike Melissa is handling this well, but she might be distracted by the blueberry pancake platter. I can’t eat. I’m doing my best not to freak the fuck out about my sudden shift of civil status. Being married to Mel was great for three days. Forever was never on the table.
Wylie keeps shooting glances at me and snickering. My vice-president is going to have questions when we are alone in the clubhouse. Like, who was Melissa? How did I leave my six unguarded and let this happen? And, most likely, how was my honeymoon?
It was fucking fantastic but I’m not going to share the details with him.
Our wedding night was wild. Melissa knew how to have fun, which I’d always assumed. She was better in person. When we woke that first morning, we fucked again before going ashore. In the afternoon, we returned to the ship, sunburned and sticky. We cleaned up, got dirty, and cleaned up again before joining the others for dinner. It was rinse and repeat the next day. Then we had one more night together. The first was frantic. The second was fun. The last was friendly. Mel hadn’t dated anyone since her divorce was finalized. I am between girlfriends. Wewere both breaking dry spells with no expectations beyond the weekend.
“I’m sorry, Duck, it’s not looking great for this being a fancy souvenir. It seems legit. I think your best bet will be to check online on Florida’s government websites in a couple of days. If it pops up, then you can file for an annulment. Given the circumstances, my not-officially-binding advice is to wait and see, and to not participate in any more marriage ceremonies of any kind until this is settled.”
“Any idea how long this could take?” I ask.
“That depends entirely on the efficiency of Florida’s bureaucracy.” Kat shrugs. “Good luck. I’ll help you from this end, but the timeline is out of my hands.”
“Duck, you’re a good guy and a fun date, but I can’t hang around here indefinitely. I have a life to get back to in Chicago,” Melissa says, showing she’s been following the entire conversation.
“Today?”
“If I can get a flight. I’ll head back to the airport either way. I can get a hotel room. I’m not going to impose another night.”
“We’ll go back to the house and get your flight booked before you go anywhere,” I say. For fuck’s sake, I’m not going to let Melissa stay in a hotel. Accidentally or not, she’s my wife. I’m going to look after her.
She excuses herself to go to the bathroom, and Kat goes with her, leaving me alone with Wylie. “At least Kat kidnapped me to get my attention. It sounds like all Melissa had to do was buy you a drink,” he jokes. Then his smile fades. “Seriously, Prez, are you okay with this? You’re sure this wasn’t premeditated? Is she going to cause trouble?”
I laugh. “Trouble is Mel’s middle name but she’s not going to do anything malicious.”
“You trust her?”
“Yeah. We’ve been friends for twenty years. She’s a good person.”
“And you two have never hooked up before? ‘Cause she’s hot.”
“Hey, that’s my wife you’re talking about.”
Wylie raises his hands in mock surrender, and I know it’s going to be okay. As long as I’m married to Melissa, my brothers will look after her like she’s one of our own.
The women return. Kat’s eyes are wide, and Melissa looks an unhealthy shade of pale. “What happened?” I ask.
Kat answers. “Duck, it seems like your wife is a wanted woman.”
CHAPTER 7
MELISSA
My vacation keeps getting worse.Wade isn’t a terrible consolation prize, but the paperwork that comes with the man is going to give me a migraine. Fortunately, I’m not going to have a headache long since my fucking ex is determined to give me an aneurysm. Fucking Bob.
“Does this town have an ATM? I need cash.” I have to pay Kat a retainer. My new BFF is already giving me free divorce advice because of her relationship with Wade. I can’t take advantage of her for another problem. “Then, if we could head back to your place so I could use your internet, that would be great.” My plan to fly back to Chicago just got accelerated.
“Mel?” Wade puts an entire set of questions into a single word.
“I’m fine, Duck. But we need someplace private. Quickly,” I stress.
Wade walks me a block down Main Street to a tiny, two-story strip mall with a trio of businesses at street level and apartments above them. A sign proclaiming Carol’s Convenience and More stretches across all three storefronts. The center doors lead to a laundromat with a freestanding ATM at the back. I withdraw the maximum on all my cards.
The frigid February air cools my temper and clears my head. I shake off Wade’s questions until we get back to his place. He doesn’t usher us into the living room. Instead, he directs me to a kitchen chair and shoves a coffee mug into my hand. “Do I need to break out the whiskey again?”
“No, coffee is good. Grab one for yourself.”
He, Kat and Wylie join me at the table. I take a breath and explain. “While Duck and I were on the cruise, we ran into Bob, my ex-husband, and his new wife and old affair partner, Paula. Apparently, Bob arranged for Paula to be served divorce papers when they landed at the airport yesterday. First thing this morning, Paula filed a lawsuit against me, blaming me for the divorce. She’s suing me for alienation of affection and accusing me of seducing her husband while we were aboard the Tropical Wave.” The whole thing is so stupid that I feel myself losing brain cells as I speak the words.
