She huffed and threw up her hands, nearly smacking herself in the head with the papers she was still holding.“Call Vance.”
She stomped down the hallway, and I couldn’t help but lean back in my chair.“Your skirt looks great, by the way.”
Her muffled voice replied from the end of the hallway where her office was.“Thanks.”
I straightened my clothes, the fitted knee-length moss-green skirt wrinkling easily since it was made out of some silky material I had to iron after every wash.But I loved the way it fit, and it was comfortable too.It paired great with my favorite—and now wet—white blouse.
There was no dress code at the office, but I wanted to make the best possible impression on clients walking through the door.And I enjoyed having a reason to get dressed up again.
The next half hour was as unproductive as watching paint dry.And equally as exciting.I couldn’t shake the fear that had enveloped me at the thought of losing the girls.
My cell rang, making me jump in my chair before I fumbled for it on my desk.The display read “Vance.”
Malena, you traitorous bitch.
“Vance.How are you?”
“Why didn’t you call me as soon as your ex-husband walked in the door?”
I tapped my right foot on the floor in rapid succession, my hands suddenly sweaty.Clutching my phone tighter, I sat up straight.“You said yourself he has a right to see the girls.”
The growl that followed made a lump form in my throat.I wasn’t sure if it was from fear or anticipation of what was going to happen.
“If Hank is doing something that makes you feel uneasy, then I should knowas your lawyer.Anything to do with the girls, I need to know,as your lawyer.Anything to do with the divorce, I need to know,as your lawyer.But most importantly, whenever you run into your ex, I need to know,as your friend.”A banging sounded through the line, as if he’d hit something.“Promise you’ll call next time.Whatever it is, at whatever time.Call me.”
I blinked at my cluttered desk.“I—”
He interrupted me.“No.All I want to hear is that you’ll call me.”
“Okay.I’ll call next time.”
The words slipped out before I had a chance to think about it.How did he always get me to agree?
“Good.”
He hung up.
And I accomplished even less for the rest of the day.
So much for catching up on emails.
Chapter fifteen
“Mom,canIhavecow food?”Addy yelled from her room.
“Ladybug, it’s called cheese and crackers.”
I didn’t need to check our pantry to know I didn’t have any of the little packages that were filled with cheese on one side, crackers on the other.The image on the front was a cow in a field, hence Addy’s insistence on calling them cow food, no matter how many times I corrected her.
She stuck her head around the door.“But there’s a cow on it.”
“That’s only supposed to mean that the milk in the cheese comes from cows.”
“So it’s cow food.”
I threw up my hands, not sure why I was arguing with a six-year-old since I knew what she meant.
“Vance calls it cow food too.”
