Chapter Twenty-Nine
I waited outside Lucas’s office the next morning, determined to say my piece.
He rounded the corner, then slowed at the sight of me. He was beautiful. Clean shaven, hair damp and lightly mussed. His lips opened in surprise, and kindness flowed from him like light from a lantern in the darkness. “Sophie. What are you doing here? This is your day off, isn’t it?”
“I came to see you,” I said, offering the pink pastry box in my hands.
He accepted with a coy smile. “The Invisible Baker.”
“Can I come in?” I asked, motioning to his closed office door. “I think we need to talk.”
Lucas nudged the door open with his foot, then motioned me inside. He took a seat at his desk and opened his palms, letting me know I had the floor.
I lowered anxiously into the chair across from him.
Then I opened a vein and poured out my heart.
Tears flowed unbidden as I explained the blanket of protection my little company had once provided me.
The hope for escape and independence that came with every sale while I bided my time until I could leave Robert.
Then the fear I had at losing it all, as if giving away my secret meant losing all I’d gained in its shadow. And how I knew now that wasn’t true.
“I am so deeply sorry for lying to you,” I said.
“I’m so incredibly grateful to you for giving me a chance as your pastry chef.
You trusted me. I kept something from you, but it was never a reflection of my lack of trust in you, or anything about you at all.
I’d just been so afraid for so long. It was all I knew. ”
“And are you afraid now?” he asked.
A small, humorless laugh escaped me as I shook my head. I couldn’t imagine fearing anything with Lucas near. “I’m glad to be here with you,” I said. Without thinking, I added, “I’ve missed you. I’ve felt as if you were avoiding me, and I hated it.”
Interest lifted his brows. “I was giving you space.”
“For what?”
“For whatever you needed,” he said. “After I realized you were keeping this secret”—he waved to the pink pastry box—“I knew there was something behind it. People are generally proud of their success, but you didn’t want anyone to know.
Then, as you opened up to me about your life before we met, I understood a little better.
I decided to let you tell me when you were ready. ”
“But why have you been avoiding me?” I asked. He still hadn’t explained that, had he?
Lucas looked briefly away. He laced and unlaced his fingers on the desktop. “After hearing your strong feelings about marriage, I didn’t want our growing friendship to become a problem for you. So maybe I hid a little too.”
I blinked, stunned and unsure for new reasons. Why would my feelings about marriage have anything to do with him? Unless he had feelings toward me, and he thought I was against all romantic relationships.
Was it possible my attraction to Lucas wasn’t completely one sided?
“I had plenty of work to do in here,” he said. “I should thank you. I’m caught up on paperwork for the first time since the restaurant opened, I think.”
I bit my lip and smiled. “I want to go to France,” I said. “If the offer stands.”
A flash of pleasure passed over his handsome face. “Of course.” He opened his desk drawer and produced an envelope. “This is everything you need for the trip. And a few of the preview photos taken for the restaurant’s marketing materials. I thought you might like to have them.”
The phone on his desk rang as I accepted the envelope, and he offered an apologetic look. “I’m sorry—I have to take this call.”
I stood on wobbly legs, overwhelmed by relief and acceptance. “We’re good?” I asked.
He nodded. “What if we agree to just say what’s on our minds from now on, yes?”
“Yes,” I agreed. Then I floated out on a cloud of hope and deep appreciation for another person in my life who accepted me for me.
I drove straight to Alicia’s house from the restaurant and waited while she changed out of her work clothes and into her varsity-football-mom clothes.
Then we went to the high school stadium to watch her sons play in their homecoming game.
I provided the usual three dozen cupcakes, iced in the school’s colors.
Seated in the stands, under the Friday night lights, I told her everything about my chat with Lucas. Then I pulled the envelope he’d given me from my purse.
“You didn’t open it yet?” she asked.
I shook my head. “I didn’t wait for you with the ancestry things. The least I could do is wait to show you my paperwork for France.” I worked open the flap and slid the contents onto my lap.
Scents of popcorn and hot chocolate lifted through the air on a breeze. Shirtless teens with giant letters painted across their chests walked in packs with others wearing face paint in the same colors.
Cheerleaders shook their pom-poms and bounced around on the track outlining the field.
I scanned the pack of uniformed players, searching for CJ and Bill.
“Lucas likes you,” Alicia said. “Are you ready to combust? That’s the only thing he could’ve meant with that line about your growing friendship.” She sang the last two words.
I smiled. “It feels awful to say, because I’m legally unavailable, but I really hope you’re right.”
She smirked, obviously satisfied with my brutally honest response. Then she turned her attention to the paperwork. “Okay, what do you have there?”
I fanned through the stack. “Airline and flight numbers. Hotel information.”
“Please say you got the last available room,” she said. “And there’s only one bed.”
I snorted. “I think that only happens in romance novels.”
“Why can’t this be a romance novel?”
“Robert puts a real damper on the plot,” I said. My gaze drifted to the photo on my lap, and I released a little gasp.
Alicia hummed a long note, clearly seeing what I saw.
A professional photo of the restaurant’s kitchen, taken for marketing purposes and featuring Lucas and me.
We stood shoulder to shoulder at the prep station, each holding a finished dessert and smiling widely.
My head was thrown back in laughter, and there was a smudge of flour on my nose.
Lucas’s eyes were on me. The look on his face stole my breath.
“Soph,” Alicia said softly. “That’s not the look of a man with a possible crush. That’s the look of a man who’s head over heels.”
And that photo was instantly my favorite of all time.
On the day of the pretrial, I dressed in the same black ensemble I’d worn to my mother’s funeral, though ending the marriage seemed more like an occasion for a bright-pink party gown.
Alicia and Ilona rode with me to the courthouse and promised they’d wait on a bench in the hallway for as long as it took.
I told them there wasn’t any reason to come.
I had no idea how long a pretrial might last. They insisted this was what family did for one another.
It didn’t matter what occurred in the courtroom today—they had my back.
And plans for tacos and margaritas immediately following.
Camilla insisted on coming as well, but she was running late.
My greatest hope was that Robert and I could settle on a fair division of assets so I’d finally be free of him.
The attorneys spoke with the judge privately before Robert and I entered the courtroom.
We were sworn in, then seated. The facts of the case were stated.
Then my attorney stood and declared my entitlement to half of all cash, retirement, investments, and assets, as well as a portion of Robert’s paychecks in the form of spousal support for the next eighty-four months, based on the length of our marriage.
His attorney submitted a formal verbal agreement to our terms, then reminded everyone that we were flat broke.
The judge congratulated us on our willingness to come to reasonable decisions on our own and declared the paperwork would be written up for our signatures.
My heart rate increased, because it sounded like we might avoid a trial.
Jill shot me a sharp, knowing smile. She rose as Robert’s attorney sat, and she pressed her palms to the table.
I braced for her to announce the findings from my forensic accountant. I hadn’t heard from them yet, but maybe they’d called her directly. My hands balled into fists, fingernails biting into my palms as I waited. I let my eyes shut and sent up a prayer.
Please tell him to fuck completely off with that nonsense. Amen.
“Just a moment.” Robert’s lawyer spoke before mine.
My eyes opened and sought the source.
“Your Honor, if I may?” he asked.
The judge looked to my attorney, as if asking if she’d allow the interruption. It was her turn, after all.
Jill turned to me.
I raised my brows, because she was kidding, right? I had no idea what was happening.
She sat, then waved her outstretched arm. “Please.”
Robert’s attorney had passed his phone to Robert, whose initial shock grew into a grinch-worthy sneer. I was sure I heard the voice of Virginia’s Secrets coming from the device. Robert nodded, and icicles prickled my skin.
The judge whacked her little hammer. “Mr. James. Do you or don’t you have something to add?”
“I do, Your Honor. Regarding Ms. Bianco’s finances,” the attorney said. He lifted his chin and adjusted his jacket. “We ask that her full income be considered when determining the amount of support.”
The judge squinted. “It’s been established that Ms. Bianco is employed part-time, and her financial documentation will be included in all relevant discussions. If there’s something more you mean to say, get on with it.”
He cleared his throat. “It’s come to my attention just now that she also owns a successful LLC registered in the state of Virginia, which she didn’t include on her initial disclosure affidavits.”
My attorney turned to me slowly.
I wanted to drop my head onto the desk and scream.
“Request for recess, Your Honor,” Jill said. “I need to confer with my client.”