LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

it.

      “Not yet. I’m dreading it, though.”

      Sandy’s expression turned sympathetic. “He’s not an easy man to break bad news to, that’s for certain.”

      Lara tucked her hair behind one ear and smiled grimly. “He’s not an easy man, period.” For just a second she was six years old again and in the first grade. That’s when she’d learned other kids called their fathers “Dad” or “Pop” or even “Father.” Anything but their first name. The argument had been short, and Lara had learned quickly how much her opinion—or anyone else’s for that matter—meant to Ed.

      “He won’t like it,” Sandy said.

      “Yep. He told me when I got married to make it last. I guess I haven’t followed his advice.”

      Sandy snorted. “He’s a big one to be giving advice about marriage.”

      Ed had been to the altar four times. Lara’s mother, his first wife, had deserted him when Lara was five. Unable to stand his overbearing ways and need to control, Alicia Bentley had fled, leaving her baby daughter behind. She’d died shortly after that in a skiing accident. And Ed had been with a number of women since.

      “You’re right,” Lara conceded. “But I’m sure Ed would tell you he loved every one of them.”

      “Well, he can be charming.” Sandy grinned. “But there’s that other side of him…”

      “You mean the side I’ll see when I tell him about the divorce?” Lara gripped the steering wheel. “He likes Conley. He’ll believe this is all my fault.”

      The silence stretched out, then Sandy reached across the seat and put her hand on Lara’s right arm. Her expression held a wistful note. Married longer than Lara and Conley, Sandy and Matthew had never had a perfect relationship but since the pregnancy, things had gotten more tense. Sandy had always idealized Lara’s marriage, mainly because she idealized Conley.

      “Are you sure about this, Lara? I mean, really, really sure? Conley’s the kind of man every woman dreams about….”

      Lara stared through the windshield. She’d asked herself that very same question a thousand times the past few weeks, and each time, her answer had been the same. Yes. Absolutely. Positively. Without a doubt. She wanted a divorce.

      She wanted it because things weren’t working out, but for other reasons as well. Lara had vowed a long time ago that she would never be like the women her father had always married. Except for one—Bess MacDougal—they had been helpless and insecure, women who didn’t know who they were without a man. When Ed’s interest flagged, Lara had read the desperation in their eyes; she’d be damned before she’d see it in hers.

      A few years ago, she and Conley had reached this same point and had almost separated. They’d decided to give the marriage another try, but after a while, a very painful while, it was clear to Lara nothing had really changed. The agony of that realization was something she never intended to experience again.

      To top it all off, there was the Other Problem. She couldn’t bring herself to use the actual term because then the situation would become too real for her so she always thought of it as the Other Problem.

      She turned to her friend and spoke. “Yes,” she said. “I’m absolutely sure. I don’t love Conley anymore. It’s time to move on.”

      WHEN SHE CAME BACK through the kitchen door, Lara’s phone was ringing. It was probably Ed, she decided, wondering why she wasn’t yet in the office. She loved her job, but sometimes she found herself wishing someone other than her father owned the company. He was a hard boss and it was a hard job. Bodyguards to night patrols, employee checkouts to prenuptial investigations, Mesa Security offered very discreet services to very wealthy clients. The firm kept a low profile—so much so it was known only in certain circles. But it was the best, and when someone needed help with a delicate situation, they called Mesa. Mainly responsible for the day-to-day operations, Lara left the heavy-duty bodyguard service to the fleet of freelancers Ed managed. A few years back, personal security was all she’d done, but she’d put that part of the business behind her.

      She’d had to.

      The phone rang again and with a moan, she shrugged out of her coat and grabbed the receiver off the wall. But the person at the other end wasn’t Ed.

      “Lara? This is Theresa. Did I…catch you at a bad time? You sound out of breath.”

      “I just came in the door. I had to run Sandy home. She’d stopped by.”

      Catching her reflection in the window over the sink, Lara pushed her hair out of her face and tried to imagine Theresa Marchante, Conley’s attorney, appearing as Lara did right now. Sweats, no makeup, in need of a shower. The woman had to exercise—she was too svelte and attractive not to—but somehow Lara couldn’t picture the lawyer bedraggled and mussed. Theresa always looked wonderful, her suits tailored and in flawless taste, her red hair shining and pulled back. Normally such perfection would have made Lara dislike Theresa immediately, but because of the attorney’s attitude that was impossible. Conley valued her opinion in all his legal matters. Theresa was a hard worker and loyal to her clients—she’d been Conley’s counsel for several years now.

      “I’m sorry to have to bother you, but…” She paused and seemed to hesitate.

      A rush of coldness swept over Lara, shaking her to her toes. Theresa Marchante didn’t flounder over anything. God, had Conley already contacted her? Had he already told her to start the paperwork for the divorce?

      Lara dropped her coat on a nearby kitchen chair then gripped the phone with both hands. “It’s okay, Theresa. What can I do for you?”

      “I…I have some bad news, Lara.”

      Lara’s chest went tight. He had told her! Conley had gone directly to his office and called his attorney! Damn, he might have even called her from the Suburban. Lara’s initial feeling of dismay, even though she’d been the one to bring it all up, morphed illogically into anger. His little act of rage this morning had been just that—an act. He couldn’t wait to be free of her, could he?

      “I know what you’re going to say, Theresa.” She forced herself to speak. “I’m just surprised he told you this fast. Did he…ask you to start the paperwork already?”

      “I don’t think we’re talking about the same thing, Lara. In fact, I know we aren’t. I’m calling about Conley—”

      “I don’t know what he told you this morning, but the divorce is my idea, okay? I was the one who brought it up and I’m the one who—”

      “Lara, look, I don’t know anything about a divorce.” In a voice uncharacteristically shaky, Theresa broke in, halting Lara’s explanation. “I’m calling because Conley’s been in an accident. I’m at the hospital right now. He asked me to phone and let you know.”

      “Wh-what? An accident?” She fumbled for the chair behind her and sat down, her coat falling to the floor. “What happened?”

      “I’m not sure at this point. We were supposed to have a meeting early this morning. I was running late and when I got here, I found him in the street, right outside the building. He was shivering and banged up pretty good. He said something about a car hitting him, but I didn’t get all the details. I took him straight to the hospital. The doctor’s in with him right now.”

      “Oh, my God…is he okay?”

      “He doesn’t seem to be hurt too seriously, but he wanted you to know what was going on.”

      Lara jumped up from the chair. “I’ll be right there, Theresa. I have to get dressed but it’ll only take a minute then I’ll—”

      “Lara, don’t! The weather’s horrible and it’s getting worse. You’ll just cause another accident rushing over here.” Theresa’s voice returned to its usual firm and sensible tone. “It’s not necessary.

Скачать книгу