Chapter Four #2
She shakes her head, concern etching her features. “She says she’s your wife.”
I flinch and cringe at the same time. Everyone here knows I am single and had problems with my ex, so Kayla’s attempted power play with Lara holds no sway.
“Son of a bitch. I don’t suppose you could tell her I’m not here?”
“I’d be more than happy to tangle with her if that’s what you want,” the ever-loyal Lara says. “But she’s determined. I already told her you were busy, and she said she would wait.”
“Fine,” I mutter. “Is the conference room cleared out?”
Lara nods. “I’ll bring her in there to wait.”
“Everything okay?” Jared asks.
I slam a frustrated hand against the counter. “The bitch showed up at my house demanding money or else she threatened to go after custody.”
Jared lets out a low whistle. “What’d you do?”
“Threw her out and called my attorney. My lawyer says we have a strong case based on Kayla’s history, but we both know I have no proof of what a shitty mother she was. Aside from me and my parents, and we’re all biased.”
“Fuck.”
I run a hand through my hair. “You can say that again. I don’t want to go through a legal battle or put Bailey through one, either.
I don’t trust Kayla not to bring my little girl into court just to push me against the wall.
And there’s no way in hell I’m paying her to go away.
She’ll just come back next time she runs out of cash again,” I say, listing all the problems that keep me up nights.
“I’ve been waiting for her next move. Guess this is it. ”
“Want backup when you face her?” Jared offers.
“Thanks but I can handle her.” I hope.
I leave my coffee in the kitchen and head to the conference room, where my ex is pacing back and forth behind the large table.
She is dressed similarly to the last time I saw her, a tight dress, high heels, overdone makeup, and hair teased full.
Compared to Mia’s natural beauty, Kayla is plastic and fake, inside and out.
What did I see in her the first time? It is too late to wonder now.
“Kayla,” I say, stepping inside the room but leaving the door behind me open. “What are you doing here?” I ask, remaining on the far side of the conference table, away from my ex.
She meets my gaze with a cool stare of her own. “I haven’t heard from you, and I’ve given you plenty of time to consider my offer.”
I frown at that. “It wasn’t an offer, it was blackmail using your child as leverage. I told you I’m not paying you again. You received your settlement.”
She lets out a prolonged sigh. “Leave it to you to make this difficult.” She pulls out a folded piece of paper from her purse. “This is notice of a hearing. I warned you I’d go for custody, and I meant it.”
“You bitch.” I stare at the offending paper without touching it, rage filling me at the thought of Kayla getting anywhere near my daughter.
“Fine, don’t take it.” She slams the sheet down onto the table. “It doesn’t change the fact that you have to show up in court… or you can pay me, and this entire problem goes away. Poof. Just like that.” She snaps her fingers in the air in a dismissive action.
The irony is that she doesn’t want custody. She is counting on me caving into her demands out of fear she might win.
I curl my fingers into fists at my sides, breathing hard, trying to find a way to harness my anger.
“In your eyes, Bailey’s either a pawn in your bid for cash or a problem you don’t want to deal with.
That’s how you see her, isn’t it? Well, let me tell you something.
You’ll get my money or my daughter over my dead body. ”
“Promises, promises.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder and treats me to a cool smile and walks out the door, leaving me… and the hearing notice behind.
* * *
Mia
I push the shopping cart through the grocery store, filling up the wagon with all Bailey’s and Austin’s favorite foods, my mind occupied, as it often is, with thoughts of Austin.
In the days since I kissed him and he made me come apart beneath his hands, I’ve fought the hard fight to put both things out of my mind.
I try not to pay attention to his finer qualities, either, but I can’t help but notice his patience with his daughter, his dedication to his job, and his continued kindness toward me myself.
He’s never mentioned that night, and if I didn’t catch him staring at me when he thinks I’m not looking, I’d think he has forgotten the incident completely. But the fact is, the sexual tension between us is thick, broken up only by the little girl I care for.
I finish up my list, pay with the credit card Austin provides for house-related things, and head to the SUV. I am engrossed with loading the bags into the trunk when someone pushes their cart into mine, shoving the metal end into the back bumper.
“Hey!” I say, glancing up to see a man I don’t recognize holding on to the handle of the cart that hit me.
He stares at me, a scowl on his pock-marked face.
“Can I help you?” I ask, unnerved by both his actions and menacing expression.
He strides around the cart, getting into my personal space. I glance around, unsure if there is anyone else around me. Afraid now, I begin to tremble, gripping the cart harder in my hand. If he touches me, I’ll scream loud enough to bring people inside the neighboring stores out here to help.
“I’ve got a message for you,” he says, so close I can smell his bad breath. “Mind your own damned business, and you’ll be fine. Stick your nose where it doesn’t belong and you’ll have problems.” He punctuates his message with a shove that doesn’t hurt me, just reinforces his point.
“What are you talking about?” I ask him.
“You look like a smart girl. Figure it out,” he says, and takes off without taking his cart with him.
Trembling, I put the last bag in the back of the truck, slide both carts into the collection area, and rush to lock myself inside the SUV.
I try to think of what that threat means and come up empty.
I don’t know of anyone who wants to threaten me, am not involved in anyone else’s business. Not anymore.
The incident reminds me of the time before the trial of my former boss, when he sent someone to convince me that it was in my best interest to back off and not testify against him.
But Parker Alexander is in jail, and I am living a quiet life here.
I bite down on my lower lip. It just doesn’t make any sense, but the incident has me rattled, and I can’t wait to get out of here.
The short drive home seems endless. When I finally arrive at the house, I pull the SUV into the garage and close the door behind me before getting out of the car.
The garage is big enough for me to still be able to open the trunk and unload the groceries, even with the electric door closed, and I feel safer now that I am back home.
Austin’s car is on his side of the garage and a sense of relief washes over me that I’m not here alone.
I walk into the house, my arms loaded up with grocery bags, as many as I can carry hanging from each hand, and deposit them on the counter. I don’t see Austin, which means he is in his office or the home gym, so I go about putting away the items I purchased.
When I finish that chore, I turn my attention to emptying the full dishwasher. I don’t realize how badly I am still shaking until I drop a glass onto the floor. It shatters, the pieces spreading out around me.
“Dammit.” I pull out the garbage pail and drop to my knees to pick up the larger pieces before I begin sweeping up the rest.
I manage to place a few bigger shards into the trash, but when I lift another, I miss how sharp and jagged the edges are and slice my palm.
“Oww!” I drop the glass and grab my hand only to find blood flowing from the cut.
I close my eyes and groan, doubting this day can get much worse.
“Mia?” Austin comes up behind me. I didn’t notice him entering the room. “I heard something shatter. Oh, shit,” he says, taking in my bloodied hand.
I grasp my wrist and look up at him. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to clean this up.”