Chapter Seven #2
Hugo shifted in his chair, his eyes avoiding Jack’s. ‘It was all right, I guess. Didn’t do me much harm, eh? I’m a successful businessman and live a very comfortable—’
‘A successful businessman who is currently going through an acrimonious divorce,’ Jack pointed out.
The cynic in him wanted to know if Hugo was living such a comfortable life, why then was there no sign of great wealth in the financial documents Jack had been given by Hugo?
They were still waiting to hear back from the independent forensic accountant, but Jack’s guess was that all was not as it seemed and he wanted all the facts in front of him.
‘Yes, well, that’s Edwina’s fault. I don’t want to be married to a drunk. I don’t want my kids to be neglected by her when she’s off her head with booze.’
Jack flicked his pen between his thumb and index finger as he listened to Hugo describe how he often came home to a house of chaos and how hard it was for Hugo to run a business with his worries about the children’s safety.
They were genuine concerns if indeed what Hugo told him about Edwina was true.
But in his experience in family law, there were always three sides to the story—his side, her side and the truth.
Jack was in search of the truth and wouldn’t stop until he uncovered it.
Sylvie was sitting within a few feet of Shadow, who was eating the food she had put out as soon as she got home from work.
The little cat was growing in confidence and size.
She was no longer skinny with a lacklustre coat but filling out and her fur looked shiny and healthy.
‘Here, Shadow—’ Sylvie slowly held out her hand with a cat treat on the middle of her palm ‘—would you like this?’
The cat lifted her head from the bowl she was eating from, but this time, didn’t dash away out of sight.
She licked her mouth and twitched her long white whiskers and then stepped cautiously towards Sylvie’s outstretched hand.
‘Attagirl. I won’t hurt you. You’re safe with me,’ Sylvie coaxed her with a soft voice.
The cat stopped within touching distance but Sylvie didn’t rush things. She kept still, holding her hand out with the treat so Shadow could smell it. Shadow’s green eyes stared at Sylvie unblinkingly, her body crouched low to the ground as if ready to run if she needed to.
‘Here, I’ll put it on this rock for you.
’ Sylvie carefully put the tiny fish-shaped treat on one of the garden rocks and then stayed still and quiet to see if the little cat would take it while she was there.
The smell of the treat must have appealed to Shadow, for she crept closer, her eyes on Sylvie the whole time.
But then there was the sound of Jack’s bifold doors opening next door and Shadow darted off, leaving the treat behind.
Sylvie swore under her breath and crawled out from under the bushes and glared at Jack, who was now at the fence. ‘Your timing is terrible,’ she said.
‘It seemed to be spot on last night.’ His sardonic smile sent a wave of incendiary heat through her body.
She decided to ignore his comment because, apart from work, she had done nothing but think about their lovemaking last night.
Her body recalled every kiss, every stroke of his hands and lips and tongue and the intimate coupling that made her flesh sing for hours afterwards.
‘I was getting so close to her but you frightened her off.’
‘Let’s hope I don’t do the same to you.’ He vaulted over the fence like a gymnast and came over to where she was standing. ‘I was hoping to see you tonight.’
‘Oh?’ Sylvie kept her tone indifferent even though every cell in her body was hanging on his next words.
‘I saw Hugo Winters today.’
‘And?’
‘And I’d like to talk to you about what he told me. Your place or mine?’
Sylvie deliberated for a beat or two. ‘My place.’
She led the way inside her kitchen-living area that was so similar to Jack’s new extension, although Jack’s appliances were top of the range and probably cost four times what hers had. ‘Tea? Coffee? Wine? Spirits?’ she asked.
‘Whatever you’re having.’
‘I was having an herbal tea—camomile.’
Jack screwed up his face. ‘I’m not a fan. I’ll just have a glass of water.’
‘You sure you don’t want something stronger?’
‘I need to keep a clear head.’
‘Because?’
His eyes drifted to her mouth and her stomach did a jerky somersault. ‘Because this is a business visit, not a personal one.’
‘Well, of course it would be because we agreed on one night and one night only,’ Sylvie said in a matter-of-fact tone, reaching for a tall glass and filling it from the water dispenser tap at her sink.
She turned and handed it to him with a blank expression.
His expression was etched in a frown as if her statement about their encounter last night annoyed him.
Jack took the glass from her but the brush of his fingers against hers seemed to send an erotic message from his body to hers.
A tingle went from her fingers to her shoulder and beyond, making her recall his electrifying touch last night on her most intimate flesh.
Yes, indeed, his timing had been spot on last night.
No one had ever been able to get her to orgasm so spectacularly with just a flicker of his tongue.
‘As I said, I met with Hugo Winters today,’ Jack said.
‘And?’
‘Has Edwina ever mentioned she has a drinking problem?’
Sylvie frowned. ‘No.’
Jack blew out a short breath. ‘My client said he found her in a drunken stupor yesterday. He informed me she’s had drinking issues for most of their married life but apparently got it under control from time to time.
I got the impression this was the first time in a while but with two children to take care off, it’s disturbing if this is going to continue.
I will have no choice but to argue for him to receive full custody.
The children’s welfare and safety depend on her being a fit and capable parent.
A history of getting blackout drunk is not going to help her case. ’
Sylvie stared at him as his words hit her like flying stones. She would dodge one, only to be hit with another. How could this be true of her client? Her meek and shy and lacking-in-confidence client who loved her children so much she would do anything for them.
But then a doubt trickled like a muddy stain through her brain.
What if she had got it wrong about Edwina Winters?
What if Edwina was a closet drinker? Motherhood was tough.
Sylvie had seen her own mother struggle with the responsibilities of providing for her under difficult circumstances.
Her mother hadn’t resorted to alcohol but there was a lot about Edwina that reminded her of her own mother.
The victim status she clung to, the sense that she had done nothing to deserve what had happened to her, when Sylvie knew from years of family law work that relationship breakdowns were rarely one person’s fault.
But pride wouldn’t allow Sylvie to accept Jack’s version of her client. She arched her brows at him, her arms folded against her chest. ‘And you believed that fairy story word for word?’
‘Come on, Sylvie.’ Jack blew out a harsh breath of frustration.
‘I know Hugo isn’t father of the year or anything but what if those kids are driven to school by their mother the morning after a bender?
She will still be over the legal limit, which will put those kids’ lives in danger, not to mention other people on the road or indeed pedestrians. ’