The Divorce Club (29 page)

Huh? "What are you talking about?"

"Look at all the bruises. I don't know why I
didn't notice it before. Everything's adding up. You quit cooking
and pretended not to have time to take care of the house. He's
beating you up." Greg's gaze narrows. He must really believe his
own story. "He put you in the hospital. Just say it, and I'll kick
his butt. You're so lucky I'm coming back into to your life to
straighten you out. Since I left, you must've gone through
hell."

"What is he implying here?" Jamie's voice is
low and menacing. I press a hand against his chest, but I'm not
sure I'll be able to hold him back if he decides to strike.

Greg continues as if he didn't hear Jamie.
"This isn't your fault. You were so devastated I left, you resorted
to the only way you knew how to deal with the pain. Had I known you
wouldn't be able to cope, I would've never left."

Jamie says something, but I don't get what he
answers since my phone's vibrating in my purse. I pick up because,
with Greg wasting my time here, I know Sam's alone at home and it
might be an emergency. Instead of Sam it's Shannon. I don't want to
deal with her problems right now, but somehow it's easier than
dealing with mine.

I turn my back on Jamie and Greg as I say,
"Hey, Shannon, what's up?"

"Hi. Are you okay to talk? I know it's late
and—"

"No, no. Go on."

"Who is it? Can't it wait?" Greg hisses.

I cover the receiver and hiss back, "It's a
client, you moron. Ever heard of the word 'work'? Probably
not."

Greg snorts. "You call hanging out with your
girlfriends and bitching about men work?"

Ignoring him, I focus back on Shannon. "—and
then he said he never loved me anyway and that he's moving
out."

"Wait a second, Shannon. Your husband's
moving out?"

"He was such a jerk," Shannon continues. "He
said I'd never get to keep the house because the government will
kick me out as soon as he files for divorce."

I shake my head even though she can't hear
me. "You know that's not true, right?"

"Are you're sure? It looks like he might win
the battle if I don't find a job soon. I've applied everywhere, yet
I don't seem to have any luck."

I hesitate, considering my words. What the
heck? Greg will be moving out tonight, so that's one mouth less to
feed, and Sam's slowly getting used to
Tesco's Value
meals.
"What do you say to working part-time for me? Just a few hours a
week since I can't afford to pay you more, but the reference should
come in handy." I laugh nervously because I've never offered anyone
a job before and it makes me feel silly.

There's a brief pause on the other end of the
line. "I don't have your qualifications, Sarah."

"We'll find something that you can do." I
peer at Jamie who raises his brows at me.

"Really?" I can hear the excitement in
Shannon's voice. Even though I know expanding my business through
employing people when it's barely making any profit is a bad idea,
I can't help but feel a burst of happiness inside me. I
am
sort of saving lives here.

"You can start on Monday," I say. "Let's
discuss the details after tomorrow's meeting."

"Thank you so much." She laughs. "We've got
to celebrate. Why don't you pop over? I'll call the others. All
drinks are on me."

I should be going home, but Shannon sounds so
hyped I can't say no. "Okay," I whisper. "See you later."

"You're the worst employer ever," Jamie says
as soon as I've hung up.

"Why?" I narrow my gaze, ready to defend
myself.

"Because you just hired someone you don't
need and—" he holds up a finger, stopping me from protesting "—that
person doesn't have any sort of experience."

I shrug. "She needs the job otherwise she'll
be kicked out of Britain."

Jamie smiles as he inches closer. "See?
That's exactly what I love about you."

My breath catches in my throat. Did he just
say he
loves
something about me? I gape, only then noticing
Greg still standing in the background, smirking.

"You wouldn't fall for that, Sarah, would
you?"

I raise my chin, definitely. "As a matter of
fact, I am. Go and pack your stuff. I want you out now."

Greg groans. "Not again. You'll break Sam's
heart a second time? What kind of mother are you?"

He didn't just say that! "Out now! If you
don't get a move soon, I'll toss your stuff out the window."

"So you're choosing him over me?" Greg points
at Jamie who steps in front of me, blocking Greg's way.

I push him aside because this is one
confrontation I won't back off from. "It's not much of a choice, is
it? You had your chance and you blew it. Now, go back to your
mistress and have the dignity to pay some child support, or at
least call your daughter once in a while. She doesn't need to know
what a jerk her father is."

It's not very attractive to behave bitchy in
front of Jamie, but for once I don't care what other people think
of me.

"You'll beg me to come back when he's done
with you," Greg says. I shrug and turn on my heel, heading for the
car. Jamie rides with me since his SUV's still parked at Mindy's.
It's a long way home. My mind's reeling with hundreds of thoughts.
My hands are shaking on the steering wheel. Breaking up with
someone's still scary, even if one's not even dating that
person.

"Go and meet Shannon. I'll watch Sam for
you," Jamie says outside the house. I nod when he inches close and
presses his lips against my forehead. "You should've told me you
were being stalked. I could've helped."

I nod again, letting him draw his own
conclusions, because I couldn't possibly explain my reasons and
that at some point I thought he was the weirdo. "Maybe I should
stay here. Sam might not understand."

Jamie shakes his head. "No, it's your job.
You've got to have a life of your own that isn't controlled by what
Sam or anyone else wants."

"Thank you." I meet his gaze as the first
pang of something that wasn't there before washes over me.
Gratitude, longing, whatever it is, it makes me feel as though I'm
floating. He seems to good to be true, yet I don't care. I just
want him to still be here when I return today and the day
after.

"Drive safely," Jamie says.

I smile and drive away, only now realizing
beneath my coat, I'm still wearing the little black skirt and
revealing top. It's too late to change. Half an hour later, my
tight clothes and how they might come across is the least of my
concerns. Shannon opens the door clad in little more than a tank
top and an oversized belt covering her modesty. Her right hand
clutches a champagne flute, her left is wrapped around a white wine
bottle. She air-kisses me and waves me in.

The other ladies are draped on Shannon's
chocolate-colored sofa, laughing as they seem just as engrossed in
their glasses. Mindy sees me first and stands on shaky legs. I've
no idea how she got here so fast and managed to get tipsy
already.

"Hey, girls. Does our Sarah look totally sexy
or what?" she asks.

Whistles and cheers echo through the room. I
smile, hoping Mindy drops the topic, but I've no such luck.

Mindy continues, "We all know Sarah doesn't
usually dress like this. She totally did it for my benefit." She
lets out a long giggle. "This is my very own Frankenstein creation,
minus the stitched scar marks. I'm quite proud of my
achievement."

My jaw drops. I can't believe she just called
me that. How old and ugly does she really think I am? She's worse
than my daughter. "Actually, with all the heavy makeup and
hairspray, I feel more like Frankenstein's bride," I say.

"I had a professional makeup artist turn her
into a bombshell no man could resist," Mindy says. "We did her hair
and nails and jazzed up her wardrobe. Then lightning struck the
chicken fillets and my creation came to life."

"It's alive. It's alive!" Lucy shouts.
"Lightning strikes and boobs are created." I wonder how drunk they
really are.

"See?" Mindy says. "Frankenstein's creation
should not be considered a fiend. It should be remembered as a
fashionista with double D knockers."

They burst into laughter.

"I bet Jamie couldn't keep his eyes off you,
eh," Lucy says.

They know Jamie came along? I glare at Mindy.
"You told them?"

She shrugs. "Come on, we're all family.
There's no secrets between us."

"You go, girl!" Simone says.

Shannon nods. "She's a lucky duck."

"Jamie and I are just friends." I hope they
start to see sense and switch on their brains soon. Mel's dirty and
inquisitive mind is bad enough, I don't need that fourfold.

"Mindy told us how he stared at you when you
were caught in your skivvies at the lingerie shop," Lucy says.

"Mindy!" My cheeks are on fire; I feel as
though I've just turned ten shades of red. I knew she was
manipulative, but now I can also add blabbermouth to her
résumé.

Simone pats my back. "It's okay. We know
you're only friends—"

Lucy snorts. "I don't spend the weekend in
France with my
friends
. How is he between the sheets?"

Why would anyone assume we got intimate?
Surely, I
do
come across as a professional. "He's my client.
I'd never sleep with him."

"We believe you," Simone says. "You know Lucy
likes to spice stories up. But if he's interested, don't waste the
opportunity. He's a great guy any one of us would grab in a
heartbeat."

"Yeah, we're happy you helped him get over
his breakup," Shannon says. "You've helped us all so much."

"To Sarah and the Divorce Club," Mindy
shouts, pressing a glass into my hand. I nod and take a sip, the
dry taste making the cave of my mouth numb.

"What you did for our Shannon tonight—" Lucy
pauses and wipes a tear from her eye "—you're an angel."

I wave a hand in the air. "Not really."

"You've done so much for all of us," Simone
says. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be who I am now."

Embarrassed, I drop down on the sofa and try
to steer the conversation away from me because I'm not good at
dealing with all the attention. "What happened?" I ask Shannon.

She guzzles her drink and sighs before she
peers up at me. "The bastard found out about the bank and went into
a raging fury. I kicked him out."

"Good for you, lassie. Cheers to that," Lucy
shouts, almost toppling over. She's wearing a skirt that is too
short. I'd rather not find out whether she's sporting any underwear
so I turn away.

Shannon smirks. "He thinks he can keep the
house though."

"That jerk," Mindy says. "You've got to teach
him a lesson for talking to you like that."

I groan inwardly and sink into the plush
sofa, wishing Mindy would just keep quiet for a while because I
don't trust her advice one bit.

"Leave his stuff out in the rain and then
watch him dry it with a blow dryer," Mindy says.

"No." Simone shakes her head. "I bet it took
him years to collect all the crap men stack up. Soaking it all in
water isn't going to hurt. I say sell it and then watch him try to
get it all back. I bet he'll go ballistic."

"You mean a garage sale?" I giggle, unable to
help myself. It must be the alcohol numbing my brain.

"That'd be a blast. Too bad he's popping over
tomorrow to get his stuff," Shannon says.

"It's short notice, but we can do it," I hear
myself say.

Lucy jumps up. "Let's get to work then."

We spend the next few hours sipping more wine
while sorting through Shannon's cupboards, basement and garage, and
stacking everything that belongs to her husband into cardboard
boxes, plastic bags and bedding when we run out of containers. By
the time I check my watch it's almost midnight. It's irresponsible
of me to leave my daughter alone with a babysitter, but I don't
know when I last had so much fun. Besides, I'm too tipsy to drive
home. Being charged with a DYI would be even more
irresponsible.

I think at some point I call Jamie, but I'm
not sure. The last I remember is tuning out on Shannon's sofa and
then waking up to loud cluttering outside the window. I rub my eyes
against the glaring brightness and peer out. Lucy and Shannon are
having a jolly good time setting up the hubby's stuff on the
lawn.

"You're awake," Simone says from the door. I
turn toward her, marveling at how gorgeous she looks after a few
bottles of alcohol and an uncomfortable night on someone else's
futon. "Coffee's in the kitchen. Grab yourself a cup and then start
helping out."

I groan and lift my dizzy head, wishing she
didn't notice I'm awake.

"By the way—" Simone pokes her head back in
"—Shannon says if you know anyone who might want some of the stuff,
go on and call them over. We need to get rid of as much as possible
before the bastard shows up."

Grabbing my phone, I hesitate. Technically,
Jamie's my client too, so excluding him from our little adventure
seems a bit unfair. I speed-dial his number, only then realizing
he's standing outside, holding what looks like a huge dartboard
while Shannon's giving instructions.

My cheeks start to burn; a little pang
pierces my heart. He mustn't see the remnants of last night: bed
hair, smudged makeup and swollen eyes. Ignoring the throbbing in my
head, I jump up and lock myself in the bathroom to inspect the
damage. It's even worse than I thought. The foundation's clogged my
skin, and now my forehead's covered in tiny bumps. My dry lips look
like parchment paper that's been soaked in water and dried in the
sun, and the bruise on my left cheek emphasizes the purple bags
under my eyes.

I hold my face under the water jet and use
Shannon's cosmetics to minimize the damage. She's a woman, I'm sure
she'll understand. By the time I leave the bathroom, I seem almost
presentable again.