Chapter Twenty-One
Tara wanted to vomit. She held the phone to her ear and fought the bile rising in her throat. This nightmare couldn’t be happening. Drew must have known this call was coming. That was why he’d come to her last night upset and disheveled. She paced the small office in the spa, searching for a way out of this mess.
“Mrs. Herman, can you repeat that? I think I heard you wrong.” She never should have picked up the phone, but she’d needlessly worried it would be a teacher calling about Royce.
“I’m afraid you probably heard me correctly. Your ex-husband’s recent girlfriend is accusing him of assault. Two weeks ago, she was admitted to the hospital for injuries sustained in an altercation with Mr. Paxton and released a couple of hours later. She slapped a restraining order on him, and he left town. His lawyers are trying to make her go away, but we won’t have it. I’ve spent my entire career defending women against abusive men. I won’t allow them to get away with this kind of behavior. I need your help.” Mrs. Herman’s voice came over the line strong and determined.
“I don’t think there’s anything I can do to help her. Drew and I have been divorced for some time now.” Her hands shook. He had lied again. He had said he hadn’t hit his girlfriend, but the magic he had said his lawyer created was done to save Drew’s ass. Of course, it had been. Drew Paxton wasn’t accustomed to facing consequences.
“That’s exactly why you can help. I want you to testify against him as a witness for us.”
“Why would I do that?” She went to the small window and looked out. A drizzle fell in a steady stream and covered every surface. Even from inside the spa, the damp morning seeped into her bones.
Guests waited to be taken on a hike as the soft rain fell around them. What she wouldn’t give to go with them and never come back.
She would never humiliate herself in a courtroom full of reporters dying to thrive on the blood this would draw. They would plaster her face on every media outlet as the woman who had allowed herself to be fooled.
“Because he hit you too. I have the records.”
Dread as cold as ice filled her stomach and froze her heart. It wasn’t possible. Those records had been destroyed. Or had Drew lied about that too? “I think you’re mistaken.” No one could know he had hit her, especially not Kace. Kace had called her twice last night when she didn’t show up to his family dinner, but she hadn’t returned those calls. She didn’t know how to face him after Drew’s arrival last night. She couldn’t look Kace in the eye and not tell him about her past, and the last thing she wanted to do was tell him what had happened to her.
“Tara, if you publicly say you were also assaulted by your ex-husband while you were married and carrying his child even, that would give my client’s story more credibility. We can’t let him walk again.”
“You’re wrong, Mrs. Herman. Drew never hit me.” She forced her voice to stay neutral. She just had to pretend like she had so many times before.
The lawyer heaved a heavy sigh. “I was afraid of this. I understand that what I’m asking of you is a very frightening thing to face. You thought those records were gone, but they aren’t. You don’t want anyone to know what happened to you, but by coming forward, you’ll be helping yourself and my client. Without your testimony, there won’t be any justice. He could hurt more women. He may already have.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. How many other women had Drew hurt? She couldn’t bear to think about that. She had been trying to protect herself and Royce with her silence. She didn’t want the media frenzy that would go along with accusing Drew Paxton of assault. He wasn’t just any man. He was one of the best tight ends in the history of professional football. Everyone would judge her, accuse her even. Drew was a golden boy. She couldn’t put a dent in that armor even if she wanted to. No, outing Drew would hurt too much. If she couldn’t tell the world about her past, then that left her with just one other choice. Marry him.
“I’m sorry you’ve wasted your time with a call to me, but I can’t help you.”
“I’ll subpoena you if I have to. I’d rather you come in on your own, but I mean business. We need your testimony.”
She clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. Could she really be forced to testify against Drew?
“Can I ask you one more thing?” Mrs. Herman said.
“I suppose.” She braced herself for whatever could be next.
“Why did you divorce him?”
“Excuse me?” She tried to rack her brain and give a reasonable answer, an answer anyone wanting a divorce would give.
“If he didn’t hit you and cause your miscarriage, what was the reason for the divorce? Did he cheat on you?”
She gripped the phone until her knuckles ached. “Not that I know of.” Or that she could prove.
“Did he squander your money?”
“Well, no. What are you getting at?” She knew exactly what this woman was getting at, and it made her insides shake worse than her hands.
“You left him because he hit you. One time that was reported, and that resulted in a miscarriage. He paid the hospital to keep it quiet. But after that, you made a decision to leave him. Why?”
Because he had taken everything from her. She had nothing left to lose.
Mrs. Herman continued speaking. “Don’t you think other women have the right to know what he’s like so they can stay away from him? Don’t you think a criminal should pay for his crime?”
She ended the call without answering. Mrs. Herman didn’t understand. She could never admit Drew hit her. Her mother would say she told her so. She would become the woman judged for her inability to take care of herself and her children. A woman who couldn’t stand up for herself would repulse a man like Kace. She repulsed herself when she thought too long about what a fool she’d been. If she pressed charges, she would bring a media circus down on this ranch. She needed this job, but if she became a spectacle, she would get fired and have to move again. She dropped to her haunches and moaned.
The bell in the office dinged, announcing the arrival of a guest. Scheduled massages filled every hour of the morning, but she didn’t trust her hands to do their job. She clenched her fists to stop the trembling.
Drew had set her up. He’d come to her first, pretending he still loved her and their family, and dangled a way to keep her secret. He knew this woman’s lawyer would call and ask for help. If she agreed to marry him, it would remain his word against this woman’s. If she said no, he had the money and power to make it go away. Mrs. Herman didn’t know who she was dealing with. He was building his defense.
“Hello? Is anyone here?” Mrs. Little, her nine-o’clock massage, called from the front.
“I’ll be right out.” Her voice squeaked on a hinge.
She sucked in gulps of air. She just needed to get through the day and figure out what to do next. She didn’t want to marry Drew even if that felt like the only choice she had. If she told Drew no, could she tell Kace the truth? And would he still want to hear it after she’d thrown him out?
She slipped into the massage room to make sure everything was ready. The lotion bottle was nearly empty. She liked having her backups prepared on the counter to easily grab what she needed and not waste any of the client’s time trying to open a bottle with greasy hands. The extra lotion in the upper cabinet was gone.
She hurried to the storage closet. All the lotion she used from the brand Jett insisted on was also gone. She had forgotten to reorder more. How clueless could she be? She knew the answer to that question. She had married Drew. She was pretty damn ignorant.
She directed Mrs. Little to the massage room and told her to lie down on the table. She’d be back in a few minutes. The massage table was heated. The soft light and flameless candles licked the room in shades of gold.
Underneath the desk in the office, she kept a duffel bag with a change of uniform in case she had any spill emergencies. She had a large mason jar of her special lavender lotion. She would use it today, and tonight she would rush an order of the spa’s lotion. She’d pay for the shipping herself so she wouldn’t anger Jett.
If the clients today enjoyed the lotion, she’d have proof her products were just as good. Maybe then Jett would allow her to keep some in stock alongside the others.
With a deep, cleansing breath, she opened the massage room door. “Okay, Mrs. Little, let’s get started.”