The Divorce Club (9 page)

Sam's phone rings. She picks up and starts
talking. I see my chance and lean closer to Jamie. "What's your
secret?" I whisper, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Sam's
not tuning in, but she's busy gushing over yet another boy.

Jamie laughs, eyes glinting as he peers at
me. "It's called the 'show them you're not as old as they think you
are' technique. Chloe taught me."

His wife. Chloe. I completely forgot about
her. I pull back abruptly as though I've just burned my fingers. A
shadow crosses his features as he notices and his smile vanishes.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to talk about her." He runs a hand
through his hair, which is something he does very often, making me
assume it's some sort of reflection of irritation with himself.
"It's all so complicated. I wish I could tell you, but you wouldn't
understand."

I wouldn't understand
what
? But I
don't ask, because there's no point in putting pressure on him.
"You're married. It's only natural that you talk about her."
There's a hint of bitterness in my voice I can't hide. For the rest
of the drive, Sam chatters away on her phone while the silence
between Jamie and me becomes uncomfortable. Thank God, we finally
reach the cinema. Jamie insists he pay since he invited us, but I
don't want him to because owing him is out of the question. My
mother taught me if a woman lets a guy pay he'll assume he can get
imbursement later in some other way. It's a strange attitude I
haven't been able to shake off yet. After a few minutes of
discussing the issue of payment, we agree that Jamie and Sam get
the snacks while I purchase the tickets. I'm not keen on forking
out eight bucks per person, but I've devised this plan of
substituting some of our more luxurious groceries with
Tesco
Value
products to save the money over a period of a month or
two. Sam won't even notice.

"What's on the big screen?" Sam asks as we
queue up to hand over the tickets.

Jamie winks. "You're thirteen. What do you
think?"

"Casino Jack?"

"No R rated movies, young lady," Jamie says.
"Unless you want the cops to come and drag you out in handcuffs in
front of everyone. Wouldn't that suck for your image? And remember,
jailbirds
don't get pizza. I might come and sneak you some
bird seeds though."

Sam laughs as though he's just told the joke
of the year. Had I said that to her she would've jumped through the
roof, not talking to me for a week. She might've even cut off my
head in the process.

"Yeah, like the police would ever arrest a
kid for something as stupid as watching a movie," Sam says.

"Actually, it's true, and they'll do it too
if your phone rings, so better shut that baby off."

"Maybe later." Sam starts scrolling through
the other choices and groans. "
The Chronicles of Narnia: The
Voyage of the Dawn Treader
?"

"There you go, PG13." Jamie winks at me.

I blink several times because I can't believe
what's happening here. Sam just picked a reasonable movie with no
fight whatsoever. With me, she would've thrown herself on the
ground like a two-year-old, kicking and screaming until she got her
way. "Thanks," I whisper.

"Mum never goes out," Sam says.

"Of course I do." I nudge her lightly, lest
she say more and risk embarrassing me. "I've just been busy
lately."

"She always says we can't spend money we
don't have." I gape in horror at her, but she doesn't acknowledge
me as she continues, "I try to tell her you don't have to spend
money to have fun."

Jamie places his palm on my lower back to
guide me to my seat, then slumps down next to me. "I'm not sure
about that, Sam. Having fun without money's getting harder
nowadays. When I was a kid we used to wait until a film finished.
After everyone left we'd just pretend we forgot our bags and
squeeze back in, then stay put until the next film started."

"Did it work?" Sam asks, wide-eyed.

"Every time."

"I don't think you should teach my daughter
how to be dishonest," I hiss. "We have enough politicians in this
country."

"Don't worry. If I don't teach her someone
else will. I'm kidding, Sarah." Jamie smiles and crosses his
fingers so Sam can see. She bursts out in laughter. His eyes
twinkle so I'm not sure whether he's winding me up or meaning it.
Either way, I decide to ignore his comment.

To my surprise, Sam takes a seat on the other
side of him and starts digging into his popcorn. The film begins
and I relax, but I can't stop peering at him from the corner of my
eye. Sam and he whisper to each other, then laugh, excluding me
from their joke. It's strange to see her so comfortable with
someone other than her father.

Time seems to fly, because before I know it
the credits roll and the lights go on again. Jamie hasn't said a
word to me yet, which makes me worried that I did something wrong.
Maybe he finds me just as boring as Sam does.

"I think she liked the film," I whisper as
Sam visits the washroom before we head out.

Jamie shoots me a strange look. "She just
said she hated it."

Granted, it was a bad movie, but I have this
strong need to make him feel good about taking us to the cinema. "I
enjoyed it."

"She said the acting flat out sucked and the
screenwriter couldn't write a good script if it bit him in the
butt." Jamie smiles. "If I may give you a tip, just say the same
and she'll love you for a whole week."

"A whole week, huh? Tempting." I click my
tongue. "You want to bet on that?"

Sam returns and we walk to the car, then
drive the short distance to a restaurant that boasts the 'best
pizza in town' on a large banner covering two windows. I actually
anticipated
Pizzahut
, so this sure beats my expectations.
Sam seems to match my enthusiasm because she marches in and takes a
seat near the window, grabbing the menu before we've even removed
our coats.

"What are you having?" Sam asks Jamie.

He cranes his neck to scan the menu. "I'm
thinking about a
Big Mac Extra Value Meal
."

Sam laughs. "For real."

"Not sure yet. Nothing with spinach though
since it always gets stuck in my gap." What gap? He doesn't even
have one.

"Mum always has it," Sam says. "With extra
garlic, and then you can smell her from a mile." She turns to me.
"You're going to order the usual, right?"

I smirk. "Not tonight. I'll give your poor
nose a break for a change."

She regards me intently, eyes sparkling. "Oh,
yeah, dragon breath? Since when do you care, Mum?"

"Dragon breath? Thanks, sweetie. You've just
made me look a whole lot more attractive." Heat scorches my cheeks.
I know she has a hard time picturing me with someone other than her
father. If she continues this way, she won't have to worry about it
because no one else will ever be attracted to me. I slump into my
chair as Jamie orders wine for us and orange juice for Sam. It's
her favorite beverage to go with pizza.

"Don't worry, Mum. Even a bag over your head
couldn't make you ugly." Sam beams up at me for a second, then
turns her focus on Jamie.

Did she just say that or was it a dream? I'm
speechless; Jamie's tamed the dragon. Soon, he won't need my
services, but I'll have to book
him
to teach me how to deal
with my daughter.

"Your mum's awesome." Jamie holds up his
glass. "I'll toast to that." I stare at him, open-mouthed. I
must've missed something because he can't be talking about my
looks.

Sam buries her nose into the menu as she
says, "Dad used to find that too before he hooked up with someone
else and forgot about Mum and me."

"Oh, sweetie. He hasn't forgotten about you."
I reach for her hand, but she pulls away.

"He has, Mum, or he'd call."

Jamie lights the candle in the center of the
table and nods. "My father left when I was ten. I think I turned
out quite well, don't you think?"

"Did your mum marry someone else?" Sam
asks.

Jamie hesitates. For a moment his smile
disappears. "She did, eventually. But we gave her a hard time. We
behaved badly because we didn't want anyone to replace our dad
without realizing no one actually tried to replace him. There's
room for more than one person in someone's heart."

Listening to Jamie, I can picture him as a
little boy desperate to be loved by his father, unknowingly,
hanging on too tight, destroying his mother's chance of finding
contentment in a relationship for many years. I steal a glance at
Sam who's lowered her gaze again as though she's stopped listening,
but I know she hasn't because her legs are fidgeting under the
table and her mouth is pressed into a tight line.

"I'm so sorry to hear," I say, softly.

"Don't be. We all ended up very happy even
though Mum must've been lonely for a long time. I just wish I knew
then what I know now. It would've made a difference, wouldn't it,
Sam?"

She nods and turns the page on the menu as a
waitress approaches to take our food order. Even though I've lost
my appetite I order what Sam's having. The conversation's getting
lighter and soon we're laughing at stories from Jamie's past. He's
been around the world, seen places, done things. Compared to him, I
really feel like I've been locked up in a cave.

"I'm having so much fun," Sam says. "I wish
Mum would take us out more often."

I shoot her an embarrassed smile in the hope
she'll keep quiet. "You know I have a hectic schedule."

Sam smirks. "Yeah, so you say."

"You're working yourself into an early
grave," Jamie says.

What's with everyone ganging up on me
tonight? "Okay, I got the message loud and clear. Working too much
isn't good for you. Now give me a break."

He meets my gaze. "There's this perfect way
to unwind."

My blood rushes to my cheeks. Is he harboring
dirty thoughts? Not that I mind since I haven't snuggled up to
someone in more than a year, but he'd better not blurt it out in
front of Sam or I'll get up and make my exit. "Really? Let's just
leave it at that."

Jamie winks. "Paris."

"What?" I put down the knife and fork, ready
to laugh it off as a joke. Sure, why not max out the plastic?"

Sam's eyes widen as she yells out, "Bonjour!
Oh, I know all kinds of French, like how to say thank you and
please."

"We can't let her skills get rusty now, can
we?" Jamie asks. Our gazes connect over the flickering candle.
"Spend the weekend with me in the most beautiful city in the
world—the city of light, love and chocolate croissants."

"You can't be serious." I shake my head. "I
know French food and the wine are to die for, but I'm a
professional, Jamie. I don't mix business with pleasure. And what
you're suggesting is definitely not business."

"Of course it's business. I promise to tell
you everything, all my intimate hopes and secrets. You can
psychoanalyze each detail and write me some kind of life plan that
I promise to follow to a T."

I snort. "Under the Eiffel Tower, right? Or
on a Seine River cruise? Maybe we could squeeze in some time while
visiting the Louvre Museum. Now that'd be the perfect place for a
little Freud action."

Sam claps her hands. "Yeah, Mum. You can work
while we're there!" She looks at Jamie. "Can we ride the elevator
up to the top of the Eiffel Tower? Kendra said you can even eat up
there. Can we see the Mona Lisa at the Louvre Museum? I've heard
she was actually a dude."

I shake my head. "Not happening."

"You're being such a killjoy," Sam says.

I glance at my daughter. She's clueless to
the cost. I can't even afford food brands, let alone a plane
ticket, and what will the other clients think? Going to the most
romantic city in the world with a hot hunk who just happens to be
someone I'm helping to finalize a divorce? On the other hand, maybe
he'll find it easier to recover from his failed marriage away from
the pain of this city full of Chloe memories.

Oh, whom am I kidding? Part of me wants to
jump at the chance to be with Jamie in such a romantic setting. I
could imagine lying on a blanket at the foot of the Eiffel Tower
with a delectable bottle of wine, champagne glasses, cheese, a
fresh baguette, and pâté. The perfect picnic would be at night, of
course. We could snuggle in the soft grass at the Champs de Mars,
gazing up at the fantastic light display and the stars. Just he and
I. His blue eyes. His—

Okay, I need to lose the fantasy. Sam would
be there too, embarrassing me for all it's worth. Besides, I'm also
supposed to behave like a professional, taking care of my clients
rather than enticing them.

"I'm sorry, Jamie," I say. "This isn't a good
time."

"What about Christmas?" Sam asks. Astounded,
I glare at her, but she just glares back and shrugs. "I heard the
city's decorated in millions of Christmas lights. They even have
ice-skating outside. Can you believe it? Oh, if we go, I want one
of those French hats. That's hot. And I want to shop at all the
cute, little boutiques! Mum, they have the most fashionable clothes
in the world."

I want to scream at her, we don't live in
Paris Hilton's TV show.

"If Sam wants to go, we shouldn't disappoint
her. Christmas sounds fantastic," Jamie says. "But I was thinking
more along the line of next week."

One night in Paris sounds dreamy. I feel my
resolution crumble; yet I'm not ready to give in. I clear my
throat. "We can't just leave everything behind and make a run for
the border."

"Are you kidding? Of course we can," Sam
shouts. "Pencil it in your little, black schedule book."

"You don't like Paris, I get it." Jamie
raises his brows. "It's okay if you have a problem with it. We
don't need to go there. I know this tiny place south of it, not far
from Versailles."