Chapter Twenty-Four
“Shit!” I returned everything except the boat title to the hole and stacked the magazines on top. I smoothed the rug over the replaced floorboard and tucked the title into my purse. Then I made a run for the bedroom door.
Robert’s voice rose up the staircase, followed by a booming laugh. “That’s the plan,” he said. “Move it all to Bitcoin.” His voice sounded airy and fake. I recognized it instantly as his telephone voice.
I froze, teeth gritted and panic rising. At least he was on the phone, not coming home with a client, or worse, another woman. Maybe he would change clothes and leave. Then I remembered he had no reason to leave—our suite had everything he needed to stay forever.
He whistled his way along the hall outside our bedroom.
Hide and wait him out? Or come clean?
I turned the light off and ran into the bathroom. If he saw me, he’d be livid. He’d probably accuse me of something terrible to keep the spotlight off himself. Fear tightened my throat and rib cage.
A swath of light slid beneath the bathroom door. He’d turned on the bedroom light. Soon Robert’s whistles changed to humming. He shuffled across the plush carpet and the bathroom doorknob turned.
I imagined throwing myself through the large window onto the ground below.
His phone rang. The door didn’t open.
“Hey, what’s up? I just got home,” he said.
Two calls in five minutes? Whistling. Humming. Laughter. How was his life this much fun, when mine was on the brink of explosion?
“No, no, no,” he said. “I’m a married man.” His false laughter raked fire down my spine.
I caught sight of my grimace in the bathroom mirror and rearranged my features. It didn’t matter what Robert did, but I hated that he was still married. To me.
“Of course,” he continued. “I’m going to catch a quick shower before I head out, but I’ll be there. Oh, I’m sure,” he said. “I’ll catch you on the green.”
My hands balled into fists. I needed a plan. Now.
“All right. Be there soon,” he said. His voice grew louder as he moved toward the bathroom door. I had nowhere to hide.
I was busted, and I needed a plan before he had me arrested for trespassing, or some other complete bullshit. Who knew what he’d make up, given a golden opportunity like this one?
My mind rewound his phone conversation, and the worst plan imaginable took form.
Like it or not, Robert was still a married man.
I stripped out of my work clothes and used them to cover my handbag, then hopped onto the countertop in my bra and panties. I tried my best to imagine I was actually wearing a bikini, and was on a beach—or literally anywhere other than my former bathroom.
I struck a pose as he entered, aligning the length of my body with the vanity’s cold marble edge and propping my head on one palm. I hated the massive ten-foot countertop he’d insisted the builder install. I’d never expected it would come in handy.
Robert flipped on the light and stopped short at the sight of me.
I sucked in a breath, forcing air into my lungs.
“Hello, Robert,” I said, faux breathlessly.
I let my eyelids droop into what I hoped was a come-hither stare.
“I was thinking of you,” I said, counting on his self-obsession to make the lie easily acceptable.
“It’s lonely at Mom’s house, and seeing you in court, so confident and self-assured, I can’t get you off my mind. ”
He stared at my breasts as I spoke, then ran his gaze farther along my body. “Sophie.”
“I thought if I came over, maybe we could talk.” I made a wide swipe across my lips with my tongue and caught some fuzz, probably from the inside of my work shirt.
Robert crossed the threshold in my direction, pupils dilated. “You shouldn’t be here.”
I swung my legs over the counter’s edge and sat tall. “I know, and I’m so sorry,” I blurted. I didn’t think my acting skills were good enough to cover the fact I hated him. Even wearing only a bra and panties.
He loosened his tie. “This is . . . naughty.”
“Oh.” I grimaced. Once again I’d underestimated his ego. The thrill of tricking him was quickly snuffed by the reality of my predicament. I couldn’t keep up the facade of wanting him. Even if I forced the words through gritted teeth, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from vomiting if he touched me.
“Did you come to apologize?”
“Uhm.” I was out of words and in a new predicament now.
His gaze flickered to mine, then back to my body. “Are you here to beg forgiveness?” he asked. “Or did you come for a punishment?”
I bit the insides of my cheeks to avoid laughing at his ridiculousness. Was he truly so daft? Or was this what looking at those magazines had done to him? Too many years spent imagining those women posed just for him.
Gross.
Robert released his tie with the whip of one arm. “Fuck, Soph. Where was this version of you before?”
If I lifted either foot quickly enough, I could kick him in the crotch before he knew what happened. I leaned back as he stepped closer, craning for another look at the bag and boat title hidden beneath my clothes.
His next step brought him against my knees, thoroughly eliminating my view of anything else.
“We should talk first,” I said, attempting to buy some time. “Or maybe you want to take a shower while I wait in the bedroom?”
He dug meaty fingers into my ass and hauled me to the edge of the counter with a dark chuckle.
I squealed at the sudden movement, and he laughed.
“That’s my girl,” he cooed. “Always so on edge. But I like this new you. Needy and brave.”
I made a disgusted, throaty noise. “I am not needy.”
He pulled back, scanning me with a smirk. “No?”
“No. And this isn’t a new me. It’s me me.” I scooted back on the counter, putting a few inches of space between us before he tried to touch me again.
Something familiar passed in his eyes at my disagreement and rejection. “You changed your hair,” he said. “It looks incredible. I’ve been telling you to cover your grays for years. I’m glad you finally listened.”
My mouth opened in outrage, but he pressed ahead.
“And from the looks of those lacy white panties, you got a new look down below too. Who knew a little time away could make you so hot?”
I pressed my knees together, hating that he could tell I’d gotten a Brazilian wax. That wasn’t for him to know. But thanks to laundry day and my smallest, least favorite panties, it was easily noticeable.
Fueled by his own evil, he added, “And you lost a little weight. You’re making improvements all around.”
I burst into loud, fake tears, and he jumped back.
“What the hell?”
“You think I’m fat,” I said. “You thought I needed to lose weight.” I pushed him out of my way and launched off the counter, then crouched to gather my things. “Wah!” I cried. “You hate me! You don’t want me! I’m ugly and gross!”
“I do want you!” he hollered. “Where are you going?”
I darted down the steps at full speed, flashing thong-exposed butt cheeks past windows on my way to the first floor. “Wah!”
“Sophie! For crying out loud! What is wrong with you? Crazy nutjob!”
I raced into the garage and yanked my shirt and pants on, covering myself and running to Bill’s truck. I dove behind the wheel and raced home as fast as my conscience would let me.
Everything I needed to prove Robert was a big fat liar rode shotgun at my side.
I alternated between desperate relief and nausea as I navigated the traffic. How had I ever found Robert attractive or interesting? Why did I think his cruelty was acceptable?
I shuddered at the memories, then grew angry.
Robert had quietly bullied me all our married life, and now that I’d grown strong enough to leave, he’d found new ways to mistreat me.
Namely by hiding money. At least now I knew where.
Stocks, bonds, and a company he’d never mentioned.
All more attempts to prove I was inconsequential. That everything we had belonged to him.
My grip tightened on the steering wheel. It was too late in the day to reach my attorney. First thing tomorrow I’d call and tell her everything. Then I’d send the photos. And what had he said about Bitcoin, before walking into the bedroom?
I didn’t know anything about digital currency, but I would add it to my nightly research. Hopefully I’d have better luck with that than I had looking for my biological father in France. I certainly couldn’t do worse.
I glanced at my purse, puzzling over the boat title in my name.
I only vaguely recalled Robert’s interest in buying a boat.
I had no recollection of signing paperwork for one, but those things were easy enough to do online these days, I supposed.
When we were younger, Robert talked about buying assets in my name to increase my credit score.
Was the boat meant as a gift before I’d asked for a divorce?
Robert was so assured about our finances that I never got involved. As a result, I’d never realized how little I knew about any of it until now.
Thankfully, tomorrow was my day off, and the timing couldn’t be better.
First stop, I thought, is the DMV, or wherever people get titles to boats verified.
If the title was legit, then Robert had apparently paid thirty-four thousand dollars for it, likely as a way of draining funds from one of our bank accounts before the court started monitoring them.
Lucky for me, selling the boat would be a great way to get that money back.
My mood improved instantly. I’d catch up on bills, invest in my growing business, and help Camilla with her wedding plans. Right after I buy a reliable used car and return Bill’s truck.
I just had to find the boat and place the ad to sell it. I hoped that Robert moored the vessel at a marina rather than hiding it a storage unit somewhere. I could call around after I talked to the DMV.
My nerves relaxed as my plan came together and I put miles between Robert and myself.
I fished my phone from my bag and tapped the Do Not Disturb feature in case he tried calling.
I needed a little more time to think and unwind.
I’d send the photos I’d taken to my forensic accountant the minute I got home.
I had no idea if they’d found anything yet, but tonight’s discovery should help pick up the pace.
Thinking of the evidence of various funds in his hidey-hole ignited my anger once more, and I pounded my palms against the steering wheel at a red light. “Fucking Robert!” I screamed, enjoying the rush that came with blowing off some steam.
Beside me, a white-haired woman in the passenger seat of a Volkswagen clutched her pearls and gaped.
I opened my mouth to apologize, but laughter poured out instead.
I was driving a beat-up old pickup truck and screaming profanity. I’d broken into my old house and snooped through my husband’s things. Then I’d stripped and pretended I stopped by for sex!
Who am I?
The light changed, and I motored into my neighborhood, mind brimming with more thoughts than I could manage. I wished it was morning so I could get started finding and selling the boat, contacting my attorney and the accountant. I’d never be able to sleep tonight. Not now.
Then I recalled the Invisible Baker.
I pulled into my drive and hung my head a moment.
I snuffed the engine and reached for my phone to check for new orders.
A berry cheesecake. A tiramisu. A party tray of mini vanilla cupcakes and mini salted caramel macarons.
And a request for three dozen chocolate chip cookies using the recipe on the bag of chocolate with no added care, to appear authentic.
That last order was definitely from a tired, possibly bullied mom. I made a mental note to apply a heavy discount.
I gave the new orders another scan, thankful I wouldn’t be up all night baking. Then I noticed something I’d missed at first glance. Chez Margot hadn’t placed an order.
Had Lucas decided it was better to avoid Virginia’s attention by not ordering? I couldn’t blame him. I felt exactly the same way. Was Virginia the reason he’d been so distracted at work today?
I climbed out and rushed across the lawn toward my door. The sooner I finished baking, the sooner I could toss and turn until dawn.
The crunch of tires on the driveway behind me tightened every muscle in my body. I sent up seventy rapid-fire prayers that Robert hadn’t followed me home to demand a real explanation for my appearance tonight. Or worse, to confront me about the missing boat title.
I forced myself to peek over one shoulder as I turned my key in the lock. I still had time to go inside and shut him out, if necessary. I only had to cross the threshold to be safe.
The broad male figure moving in my direction sent my spiraling thoughts into a standstill. All the frazzled ends inside of me fixed onto a single word.
“Lucas?”