Chapter 1
Chapter One
Eight months later
Tess
“The conditions were met. Papers signed. It’s official—the condo is sold.” My real estate agent’s voice is cheery as if she’s informing me I’ve won the lottery. But I focus on one word. The.
The condo. Not your condo. I make some indistinguishable noise into the phone, and she continues.
“One more month, Tess, and you’ll no longer be living with the reminder of Gary on the floor with his whore.”
I wince at Donna’s words but only because I hate how women are always the whores in these situations. Gary’s the whore. He deserves one hundred percent of the blame here. He made promises, he was the one who signed the marriage contract. She didn’t owe me shit.
“Gary wasn’t on the floor,” I say, drily. “He was on Marie.”
Donna’s bark of laughter slices through the phone and cuts me. It’s not that funny.
“Oh, Tess, you do have a way with words.”
The other line on my cell cuts off her voice for a blip and offers me an escape from her chattering, so I sign off and tell the doorman to send Paige up.
I glance around the condo with a sigh, my heart in my gut. Losing my condo is way more difficult than losing Gary. And thanks to the asshole judge overseeing the divorce, I’m not only losing it, but being forced out of the city too.
“I come bearing tea and scones,” Paige says a few minutes later when she walks through the unlocked door. “When are the movers coming?” Her voice echoes in the empty-ish condo.
She hands me the tea and I take a sip before answering. “The movers will be here at two to take all this to storage.” I wave my hand around the room like a game show model. “Everything I’m taking fits into those two suitcases, my carry-on laptop bag and my purse.” Thumbing my bags at the door, I blow out a breath. “That’s what my life boils down to now.”
“Oh babe, I hate this, but maybe it’ll do you some good to get away. Maybe the idiotic judge appointing a financial guardian means you can forget all this for now. Go back home, rest, work through your grief. Enjoy the animals. Walk on the red sandy shores, take up fishing, or clam digging.”
“And write?” I ask, my eyebrow cocking.
She holds her hand up as if blocking my accusation. “I never said it, but…” He words trail off as she finds the label dangling from her teabag and fingers it. “I promised I’d only be best friend Paige today. Agent Paige is locked up.”
“Having no access to money without the guardian’s approval besides a monthly allowance is not exactly stressless or motivating. And I know nothing about animals, fishing or clam digging.” I pull a face. “We never had any animals when I lived there. Not even a cat, Paige. You know that. You were at my house all the time.”
“I went clam digging once.” She looks up, accessing her memory. “It was kind of fun. Learning new skills will be great for your writing.”This time both hands go up in surrender. “Bestie Paige talking here, I promise.”
I lower my face into my hands and groan. “Never mind writer’s block, Paige, how the hell am I going to milk a cow?”
“A cow? I thought you told me she only had chickens.” She rises, opens the paper bag she brought and pulls out a scone, handing it to me. I take it absently, noting the smell of fresh blueberries.
“I thought that too. A few chickens and things were her exact words.” I look my best friend in the eye. “Never trust an octogenarian. They lie like four-year-olds sneaking cookies.”
“Or in Gran’s case, whiskey.” We both smile fondly at that, then Paige continues. “You’re going to figure it out, Tess. That’s how. You’re the queen of research. And living out there, the allowance is plenty.”
I ignore her enthusiastic reply and bitch some more. “I’m faced with this horror simply because Gary’s lawyer accused me of plotting to hide money.” I look at Paige who’s planted her butt on a tote labelled Evil Bastard’s Stereo. “And the reason? Because I gave a decent donation to the hospice that cared for Gran, as well as paying the year upfront for feed, straw and wages, to care for Gran’s animals —which as I already mentioned were only supposed to be a few chickens and things but are so much more.” I blow out a hard breath and take a too large bite of scone.
“Gary’s a pig.” Paige pauses looking thoughtful then sips her tea before asking, “Is there a pig?”
I groan through my bite of scone before swallowing enough of it to speak. “God, I hope not.”
Paige digs through her purse, pulling out a permanent marker and proceeds to draw a pig beside the words I scrawled onto the tote. She nods in approval when it’s done.
“When I asked her to move in with us, she’d said, Ah honey, I can’t leave my animals . And I’d replied, What animals, Gran? And she said, oh, it’s just a few chickens and things, nothing to fuss about. Gives me something to do. And little Jay from down the road gives me a hand. ” I toss the scone down on top of the box closest to me. “I called Little Jay, Paige and wanna know what he told me?”
Paige smirks. “More than you know.”
“This isn’t funny!” I cry and my best friend rises to come closer. I think she’s going to give me a hug but instead she scoops my scone off the box.
“Mind?” she asks, holding it up. “You stop eating when you’re stressed, I eat more often, kind of like a grazing cow.” She giggles an apology when I groan again. And then she eats the rest of my scone and dusts her hands off on her yoga pants.
“It’s going to be an adventure, Tess.” She takes my shoulders in her hands and gives me a little shake. “Exactly what you need to get out of the rut you’ve been in. Now tell me about your new animals.” The mischievous sparkle in her eyes almost makes me laugh, but I frown instead because I’m nothing if not dramatic.
Slumping, I say, “Besides the chickens? Twelve freakin’ geese, ten ducks, six goats, three ponies, two horses, a cow and one very ornery donkey named Priscilla.”
“And a partridge in a pair tree,” Paige sing-songs.
I whine.
“Is Little Jay perhaps a hunky single man?”
“Life is not a romance novel, Paige.” My brow quirks when her nose wrinkles.
“You’re the most cynical romance author I know.” She shoves her hair back and picks up my cell before it finishes its first ring. “Send them up.” Paige looks at me and winks. “Hot movers are here early, Tess. Fix your hair.” She fluffs hers again and I roll my eyes.
“Help yourself, I’m swearing off all men except paperback heroes. At least I can catch up my reading.”
“And I have you covered there.” She reaches into her purse, pulling out a paperback with a sexy bare-chested biker on the front. “This one made me go on a third date with John.” She lowers her voice, looking conspiratorially at me. “Just for the third-date perks.” She waves her hand in front of her face, fanning herself. “I was going to read it again since I’m in a dry spell, but you need it more than me. It’s so kinky!”
“Oh Paige,” I grumble, taking the book and tucking it into my laptop bag. “Why the hell is Gary dragging this out, and why oh, why, did I have to provoke the judge? I could be on a beach in Maui.”
“Quick tell me again what you said to… What did you call him again?” She plops her butt back on Gary’s pig tote.
“Castrated Bulldog Judge.” I bite my lip to keep my smile back. “He really does look like a bulldog, but maybe more constipated than castrated and I was pissed when he said romance authors shouldn’t make so much money writing drivel that makes real men look bad.”
“ Real men. Pfft.” She rolls her eyes. “And your response was?”
“So, you’re bitter because your wife spends more time in bed with romance novels than she does with you?” I whimper. “I’m an idiot.”
Paige laughs so hard she falls off the tote which has a dent where her ass was planted moments before.
“God, I wish I’d been there for that!”
“Me too. So, you could’ve stopped me.” I frown humorously. “Because that comment and the look on his face, which I’ll call constipated bulldog taunted by squirrel , might have been worth giving up my fancy caramel latte with extra whip, Paige, but not my condo.”
“I’ll buy you lunch just for making me laugh so hard,” Paige says as she rises from the floor.
“You just had a scone and a half!”
She shrugs. “Judge me all you want, but I’m starving, so get your ass up.”
There’s a knock on the door before I can retort.
“We’re leaving right after I make sure these movers are up for the job.” She winks at me. “Is muscle inspector a thing? Because with my best author out of commission, I may need a new profession.”
I rise and head to the door, not commenting on her jab because I’m still picturing the purple hue on the judge’s face after I’d told him off.
“Come in.” I don’t even have to look at the four men walking into my— the —condo to know they’re not what Paige was hoping for.
“You can tell me the rest at lunch,” Paige says, grabbing her purse. “We’ll bring you guys back a pizza if you drop that one a few times.” She points at the dented pig tote. I smile, hook my arm into Paige’s and pull her out the door.
Twenty minutes later I’m picking at my pizza and carrying on with my story.
“But dammit, he started it by being misogynistic and biased in Gary’s favor. While I could almost forgive the ancient man for his ‘traditional’ and beyond-dated values, they didn’t seem as traditional when it came to Gary. And his judgements? They were beyond unconventional.”
“Agreed.” Paige scoops another piece of pizza from the pan, plucking a piece of pineapple off and popping it in her mouth.
“He overlooked the fact that Gary did nothing to contribute to our household. Nothing real anyway. Gary’s lawyer was quick to supply that he ran my social media and dealt with PR. Cue eye roll.” I slump, my chin in my palm. “Which also didn’t sit well with the judge.”
Paige’s brows rise and she swallows her bite of pizza. “Your only social media is…” Her brow scrunches. “You don’t have social media, only a website and it hasn’t been updated—despite my urging—since you first got it.”
“Hey! I update it with new releases!” I fiddle with my napkin as Paige takes her third slice, my first piece, half eaten and abandoned on my plate. “Oh, and as for the PR, Gary was the last one that spoke to the publisher’s public relations director because I’d had a migraine and had to cancel a small signing, and all he did was repeat what I told him to say.”
“A parrot could do that,” Paige adds, taking a drink of beer. “Gary is no more useful than a parrot.Aren’t dogs and parrots natural enemies?”
Leaning back in the booth, I cross my arms. “God, how has my life turned into the makings of a bad joke? A parrot, a squirrel and a bulldog walk into a bar…”
“Bad jokes aside, just the bills will be paid now?”
I nod, absently, watching two guys in construction vests dig into their pizza with vigor. The younger one stops to whistle at the waitress and point at his empty glass. The other guy reaches over and cuffs him. My eyes automatically drop to his ring finger. If he hadn’t been wearing a wedding band, I’d guess he had sisters and/or had been raised by a single mother.
“And through a third party who will run your finances until the case is finalized?”
I glance at Paige, her words taking a few seconds to sink in.
“Yes, and I have to live off a thousand dollars a month. Even the money from the condo is going to be locked into the account until the judge makes his decision.” Looking around at the restaurant, I swallow. “I’m assuming they’d have upped the money if I was staying here in Toronto, because in this city a thousand bucks wouldn’t even get me a cot in someone’s bedroom. But who knows? Even before I pissed off the judge, he seemed to have a vendetta against women.”
Asshole judge. Asshole Gary.
“A thousand dollars for a monthly budget? God, Tess. No wonder you have to move back home.” Dropping the crust of her pizza she wipes her hands. “And what about Gary?”
“Oh, he’s living it up at the Shangri-La.”
“Isn’t that five hundred a night?” Her mouth gapes.
“Five hundred and seventy-nine, plus food and laundry service,” I mumble.
“What the fuck, Tess? That’s so wrong.”
I lean back in my chair. “I don’t need much, I never have. Gary’s the one with the expensive taste. I only purchased the lavish condo because it overlooked the park and had tons of natural light —which as you know is a requirement since I stay inside so much. But I grew to love it. To feel almost safe there.”
“I know.” Paige reaches across the table, taking my forearm in her hand and giving it a squeeze. She knew how important safe and stable environments were for me, even without me having to bring up my childhood.
“He’s at least instructed Gary to find a more permanent housing solution before he drains me.”
She nods.“If I know Gary he’ll pick a condo with a two-thousand-dollar-a-month fee for concierge service.”
“Which is why I have to move four provinces away to Gran’s little farm cottage with her few chickens and things.” But that’s not completely true. I chose to move back there because feeling safe in my home is important for my mental health. And after everything, I don’t have the mental strength to break in a new place.
“Thank goodness you never had kids. You’d be stuck to that pig forever. As soon as he gets married to his floozy, alimony ends, and you can move on and forget him.”
I shoot Paige a warning look about the floozy comment, but I don’t hear her protests about Marie’s part in the breakup because my eyes have settled on a family three booths away. Mom and Dad hold hands on the table, their heads close as they talk, and their two young boys giggle with each other as they color their menus. I never told Paige about the arguments we’d had over starting a family. Or how I’d recently realized the whole time he’d been pressuring me to have kids, he was already with Marie.
Bile rises in my throat, knowing he planned to use our child as a pawn to extort money and control over me. If I wasn’t already divorcing him, that would make me. Children are not pawns, they’re people, and they’re not stupid and they don’t deserve to be used.
“Let’s go check on the movers,” I say, grabbing the box of pizza we’d ordered for them. “I’m sure they’re hungry.”