Page 52 of Dream Chaser

Nova sighed deeply. “Not really. I asked you about control, but I need it just as much as you.” Her thumb pressed harder, then she let go.

“Do you?” I asked.

She assented with her chin. “Yeah. I need control over my life.” Her voice shook. “I need to be the one in charge. I need to be respected.” She blinked, staring at the window. “I can’t believe they ripped out the cabinets my grandpa built. Even if I renovated the house, I would never touch those. That house is old, but it’s mine. The furniture is mine. The memories. He didn’t have the right to—”

Instinctively, I covered her hand with mine, trapping it between my palms. “Nova.”

She stared at our hands, her bottom lip trembling. “I’m so sorry. I always end up saying things to you I should keep to myself.” A bitter laugh fell from her lips. “You must think I’m the most unprofessional person you’ve ever hired.”

“Do you know what I think?” I asked, my voice strained.

“That it’s time to fire me?”

“Not even close.” I curled my hand around hers, thumb stroking her knuckles. “I think you’re brave for leaving the person who didn’t make you happy. You’re brave for moving to Emerport and applying for a job you wanted. You’re brave for going to the meeting with NitroFlow without me. You might’ve lost control, but you’ve already started getting it back.”

I gently let go of her hand.

Nova straightened, exhaling shakily. “You’re right. I guess it’s just been too much. Hopefully, I’ll hear from that attorney soon. And I hope your headache is better.”

Other things were more important now, but I nodded. “I’ll be heading home in a few. So should you.”

Nova smiled, just barely. “I’m almost done. Go if you need to.”

I stayed, even though nothing was urgent. My thoughts kept spinning. If Sean’s acquaintance didn’t call as promised, I’d call him myself.

Before I’d thought it was odd to dislike someone you’ve never met.

Now I hoped Preston Marshall never crossed my path. The meeting wouldn’t end well for him.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Nova

September

Afaint smell of coffee and tobacco hung in the air of Edward Foster’s high-rise office. He’d called last night as Alejandro and I were about to leave, and here I was, trying to quell my nerves as I sipped espresso while he finished a call in another room.

“I apologize, Mrs. Marshall.” He strolled in and set his cell on the desk.

“Lockhart,” I corrected as he lowered himself into a chair. “And please, call me Nova.”

“Right.” He nodded. “Excuse me. So, you told me you’ve been married for three years.”

I downed the rest of my coffee and set the white cup on the saucer. “That’s right.”

“And do you have any children together?”

“No.” Thank God.

“You mentioned a prenup. Do you have a copy?

“Here.” I placed a folder on the desk. “The house we lived in is Preston’s. The prenup says that if we divorce, I won’t receive any of his assets unless we have children. Anyway, I don’t want anything from him. Just a divorce. As quickly as possible.”

Edward rubbed his short gray beard, skimming the pages. “I’ll need to review the contract. What’s your husband like? Are you expecting a big fight, or do you think the divorce is going to be amicable?”

“Not really, considering he altered my property without my permission.”

“The house you inherited, am I right?”