The Pre-Nup Read online

  “We’re coming,” Ellie said.

  The golfer shifted his weight from one cleat-clad foot to the other. “I feel awful. Here’s my contact information; I insist on reimbursing you for the medical bill, insurance co-pay, all that.”

  Mara glanced down at his business card, then handed him one of hers.

  His expression went from anxious to appalled. “You’re an attorney?”

  “Yes, but a very nice one,” Ellie assured him. “Who doesn’t believe in frivolous personal-injury lawsuits. Right, Mara?”

  Mara raised one eyebrow. “Define ‘frivolous.’”

  “She’s joking,” Jen said. “Let’s go.” She steered Mara toward the nurse, who led them back to a small curtained partition and took Mara’s blood pressure. “A doctor will be with you shortly.”

  Two minutes later, Ellie joined them. “His name is Ben,” she announced. “He’s new to Arizona and he seems very nice.” She rounded on Mara with an accusatory glare. “And you better not sue him.”

  “Ooh.” Jen winked at Mara. “Sounds like someone has a thing for plaid pants.”

  “What? Don’t be ridiculous!” Ellie’s entire face flushed. “First of all, I didn’t even notice his pants—”

  “How could you not?” Mara snorted. “I’m blinded for life.”

  “—and second, I’m never going to have a ‘thing’ for anyone ever again. I’m done with men.”

  “Famous last words,” Jen said.

  “No, I mean it. After everything with Michael…” Ellie trailed off as footsteps approached the other side of the thin white curtain.

  A tall female doctor stepped into the little partition. Her baggy blue scrubs and starched white coat couldn’t disguise her willowy figure. “How are we doing today?” She consulted the patient chart. “Head injury?”

  “Golf ball to the forehead,” Mara confirmed.

  Jen heard a tiny squeak, and turned to see Ellie’s face freeze in a silent rictus of horror.

  “Okay, well, let’s take a look.” The doctor leaned forward and extended her right hand. “I’m Dr. Locane, by the way.”

  “Why does that name sound so familiar?” Mara asked, oblivious to Ellie’s distress.

  “Mara.” Jen made frantic throat-slashing gestures with her fingers. “Drop it.”

  “No, hang on.” Mara tilted her head and regarded the doctor with great interest. “I know I know you.”

  Jen stepped in between Mara and Dr. Locane. “No, you don’t.”

  “Yes, I do,” Mara insisted. “What’s your first name? Veronica? Something with a V.”

  Dr. Locane looked surprised. “Victoria.”

  “See?” Mara shot Jen a look of triumph. “I told you I know her. How else would I know her name starts with a V?”

  “We have to leave,” Jen hissed. “Now.”

  Mara peered over Jen’s shoulder at the doctor. “What are you talking about? We just got here.”

  Jen jerked her head toward Ellie and willed Mara to understand. “Because—”

  “My husband said you were looking for commercial office space.” Ellie snapped out of her state of shock and was edging around Jen toward Victoria. “But you don’t work in an office.”

  Victoria tucked one hand in the pocket of her white labcoat. “Why on earth would I be looking for commercial office space?”

  Ellie stared at her for a long moment. “I guess you don’t remember me. I’m Ellie Barton.”

  Victoria’s right eyelid twitched ever so slightly, but otherwise she maintained a perfect poker face.

  “Michael’s wife,” Ellie said, loudly enough to be heard beyond the curtains separating the exam area from the rest of the ER. “You’ve been having an affair with my husband.”

  Mara’s mouth formed a perfect O. “I tried to tell you,” Jen said.

  Victoria took a moment, then cleared her throat. “Ah yes, the lunatic who keyed my car. I’ll send over the repair bill.”

  Ellie choked. Jen cringed. Mara absolutely lost her mind. She leapt off the exam table and tackled the other woman. “You bitch!”

  Victoria staggered backward, caught her shoe on a monitor cord, and fell to the ground. Her stethoscope and medical chart clattered against the scuffed floor tiles. “Security!” she screamed.

  “Time to go,” Jen announced.

  But Mara wasn’t finished with Vixen_MD. She lunged down after the doctor and shoved her index finger up under Victoria’s chin. “Marriage vows mean something, you know. Marriage is sacred!”

  Victoria recommenced yelling for security. Mara was unimpressed. “I have a head injury, remember? I can kick your ass right now and claim temporary insanity.”

  A nurse yanked back one of the curtain panels.

  “She started it!” Mara cried. “She’s a husband-stealing harpy!”

  Jen grabbed the back of Mara’s blouse and hauled her upright. “We were just leaving.”

  “Anytime, anywhere!” Mara waved her fist as Jen dragged her back into the waiting room. “Don’t worry, Ellie, I’ll avenge you!”

  “Ladies, I’m going to have to ask you to calm down.” The nurse ushered them out through the huge double doors.

  Mara was shaking with outrage. “But she—”

  “I heard,” the nurse assured her, then turned to wave off the uniformed security guard who had approached with a walkie-talkie in his hand. “It’s okay. They’re on their way out. Just another wife looking for Dr. Locane.”

  Ellie’s eyebrows snapped together. “Another one?”

  “Oh yeah.” The nurse lowered her voice. “She’s got a thing for collecting married men.” She regarded Ellie with great sympathy. “It was your husband?”

  Ellie nodded. “You say she does this a lot?”

  The nurse exchanged a pointed look with the receptionist behind the admittance desk. “Honey, half the staff stopped bringing their husbands to the holiday parties because of her. Do you have kids?”

  “A daughter. Three years old.”

  “What a shame. But Locane’ll get bored and move on to her next victim. Don’t worry; he’ll come crawling back.”

  “I don’t want him back,” Ellie said. “I’m done with him.”

  But that was the problem with misbehaving men, Jen mused as she drove home from the hospital—they kept showing up, no matter how much you wanted to deny their existence. When she pulled up to her house, there was an unfamiliar sedan parked at the curb and an all too familiar figure waiting on her front step. She hesitated for several minutes before getting out of her car, then decided that there was no point in delaying the inevitable.

  She strode toward her front door with her hands in her coat pockets and her head held high. “Why won’t you leave me alone?”

  “We need to talk,” Patrick said.

  “No, we don’t.” She turned her face into the cold wind sweeping down from the mountains. “I’m through with you. I thought I made that clear.”

  She should walk into the house she’d shared with Eric and lock the door behind her and never again wonder about what might be waiting for her outside the big, empty fortress of her marriage. She should accept that if she couldn’t make it work with Eric, she couldn’t make it work with anyone, because her husband had loved her so much more than Patrick ever could.

  But she just couldn’t bear to barricade herself anymore. So she looked into Patrick’s eyes and drank in the desire and approval she’d been craving.

  “Meet me for dinner,” he urged. “Hear me out. That’s all I ask.”

  “Okay. Fine. I give up.” Jen’s keys slipped out of her fingers and fell onto the thick woven welcome mat. “I’m listening.”

  Mara Chapter 23

  Marriage is sacred.

  The words she’d screamed at Dr. Victoria Locane reverberated through Mara’s mind as she drove home from the emergency room. She’d been out of control, spitting mad, but her anger wasn’t all on Ellie’s behalf.

  A lot of it was directed at herself.
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  When she lashed out at the notorious Vixen_MD, she’d been striking a blow against women who didn’t take commitment seriously. Women who couldn’t be trusted. Women, in other words, like herself.

  Marriage is sacred. She truly believed that. And that’s why, even though she was devastated that Josh had given up on her, she was also secretly relieved. Because now she didn’t have to be afraid she would let him down again.

  The gorgeous vista outside her windshield was in complete contrast to her mood: The sun was shining, the palm trees were swaying in the breeze, and not a single cloud appeared on the open blue horizon. Her cell phone rang and she snatched it up, grateful for any distraction. “Hello?”

  “Hi! This is Pam from the Happily Ever After bridal salon. I’m just calling to let you know that we’ve finished all the alterations on your gown and it looks fantastic!”

  Mara paused. “Didn’t my wedding planner call you guys a few weeks ago?”

  “Not that I know of. Anyway, it’s all steamed and ready to go. When would you like to come pick it up?”

  “Well. About that…”

  “We’re open this afternoon ’til five.”

  Mara’s temples started to throb as if she’d just taken another golf ball to the head. “It’s already hemmed?”

  “Let’s see…” Mara could hear papers shuffling on Pam’s end of the line. “The seamstress took in the waist, moved the back buttons, and shortened the hem.”

  “So there’s no way I could, you know, return the dress?”

  “Pardon?” Pam’s chirpy tone suddenly dropped about an octave. “I’m afraid not. This gown was custom sewn in London especially for you. Final sale. We’ll need the rest of your deposit as soon as possible.”

  “I know, but…” Mara sighed. “The wedding’s off.”

  “Oh, I am so sorry to hear that.” Pam allowed two seconds of respectful silence, then continued, “We accept Visa, MasterCard, and American Express.”

  “Can’t you just hang on to it and see if anyone else might be interested? I’d like to recoup some of my costs if at all possible.”

  “We’ll see you before five,” Pam said firmly. “Thank you for allowing us to help create the wedding of your dreams!”

  “I’m here to see Pam, please.” Mara slunk into the bridal salon with the penitent posture of a bride gone bad. Swaths of white tulle and clusters of silk roses festooned every available surface, and sweeping violins played softly over the sound system.

  “Pam’s with a client.” A short, eager-looking young woman stepped out from behind the decorative table that served as a counter for the cash register. “I’m Suki. Is there something I might be able to help you with?”

  “I hope so. I ordered a wedding gown six months ago and Pam just called to tell me it was in, but—”

  “Ooh! How exciting!” Suki squealed and clapped her hands. “What’s your name?”

  “Mara Stroebel. But I don’t—”

  “One second!” The clerk’s ponytail swished as she hurried into a back room. She emerged minutes later with a long, baby blue garment bag. “Let’s try it on and make sure it fits.”

  Mara crossed her arms. “No need.”

  “But you have to!” Suki insisted. “We should make sure it fits perfectly; it better, considering what it cost!”

  “Here.” Mara shoved her credit card across the counter. “Would you just ring it up, please?”

  Too late. Sukie unzipped the garment bag, revealing the elegant ivory silk georgette sheath that Mara had selected after trying on and rejecting countless other options. The fabric was unadorned but artfully draped to create a graceful silhouette.

  “So chic,” Suki said, watching Mara’s expression change. “Let me open up a dressing room for you. Aren’t you dying to know how you’ll look on your wedding day?”

  As soon as the saleswoman said this, Mara realized that she did indeed want to know. Trying on this gown would give her a tiny glimpse at what her future might have been like if she hadn’t forced Josh to give up on her. Trying on this gown would also tear the scab off wounds that were still raw and fresh. The smart thing to do would be to turn around and leave this shop posthaste.

  Five minutes later, Suki was doing up the delicate row of buttons on the back of the gown and Mara was gazing at herself in the mirror. She had chosen this gown because, when she walked down the aisle toward Josh, she hadn’t wanted to look like an uptight lawyer, or a sweet little princess, or anything less than a—

  “Grecian goddess,” Suki confirmed, kneeling down to smooth out the fabric at the bottom. “Wow. Your fiancé is a lucky guy.”

  Mara stepped away from Suki’s ministering hands and gathered up her bag and change of clothes. “Can I please just pay now? I have to go.”

  “Right now? But you’ll ruin the gown!”

  “Oh, it’s already ruined.” Mara powered toward the cash register, credit card in hand. “And there’s not a seamstress alive that can fix it.”

  It took her a five full minutes to summon the courage to knock at Josh’s apartment. She loitered in the hallway, plucking at the soft silk of the gown, until a pizza delivery boy appeared in the stairwell and gaped at her.

  “What are you looking at?” Mara flushed and rapped her knuckles against the metal door.

  Ten seconds later, she was staring at her former fiancé.

  “Don’t worry, you don’t have to get a restraining order,” Mara announced by way of greeting. She reached into her handbag and produced a small white box. “I just wanted to give you this, and then I’ll be on my way.”

  Josh accepted the box but didn’t open it. “What are you wearing? And what happened to your face?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He pointed to her cheek. “You’re got a huge cut right there.”

  “I do?” She raised her hand to her cheek and felt a long, thin ribbon of raised skin. She hadn’t even noticed the wound in the mirror at the bridal salon; she had only looked at the dress. “Vixen_MD must’ve gotten in one good scratch before I pinned her. She’s a feisty one.”

  “You got in another catfight? Didn’t you learn anything from that brawl with Alex?”

  “I’d hardly call that little dustup with Alex a brawl. Anyway, that wasn’t my fault; she forced my hand,” Mara said. “And the one this morning was for Ellie.”

  “I’m not asking any more questions.” Josh shook his head and leaned against the door frame. “I don’t think I can handle the answers.”

  “Probably wise.” Mara straightened her shoulders. “Anyway, I know we didn’t leave things on a very good note, so I wanted to apologize again for, um, slightly over-reacting in Vegas. That wasn’t my finest hour. Oh, and when I showed up at your office ranting and raving about how dare you let Alex crash on your couch? That wasn’t my finest hour, either. But you’ll be happy to hear that she’s found excellent living accommodations. And…”

  “And?” he prompted.

  “And I’m sure she’s a lovely person,” she muttered through clenched teeth.

  His whole body relaxed when he smiled. “That’s quite a turnaround.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m starting fresh.” She glanced down at her gown. “I’ll be incinerating this on my patio later, along with the veil and all the drafts of the pre-nup. A ceremonial bridal bonfire. I might even make s’mores.”

  “Sounds fun.”

  “You know it. So if you have any wedding paraphernalia you’d like to unload, you can pass it along now. Think of it as cleansing.”

  “Cleansing,” he repeated.

  “Closure. Whatever. I’m not a psychologist. All I know is, I don’t want to think about this wedding anymore. Ever. So here we go.” She threw out her arms and offered up her ensemble for inspection. “I’m in my dress, you got your watch, voilà. Closure.”

  “This is a watch?” He opened the lid of the box to reveal the antique Swiss timepiece she’d bought from an estate jeweler. At the time, she’d imagined him pa
ssing it down to their future child.

  “I was going to give it to you after we got married, but that’s never going to happen and you deserve to have it. Consider it a war medal.” She closed her eyes and took a slow, measured breath. “Closure.”

  He waited for her to open her eyes, then asked, “Feel better?”

  “A little bit.” She picked up her purse. “Anyway, I should be on my way. You know, places to go, lighter fluid to buy…”

  “I’m surprised the home-owners’ association allows bonfires.”

  “Oh, they don’t. But I’ll be putting the town house on the market next month, so let them cite me to their hearts’ content.”

  “You’re moving?”

  “That’s phase two of the cleansing process. Plus, I’m not impressed with the way the neighbors have been treating Ellie.”

  “You’re serious about starting over.”

  “Absolutely. It’s way past time.”

  He stared at her in silence for a long moment, but all he said was, “Have a s’more for me.”

  “I’ll do that.” Her whole body felt lighter as she started to walk away, as if the silk gown had evaporated into thin air.

  Ellie Chapter 24

  How do I look?” Alex twirled out of Ellie’s master bathroom wearing a slinky, low-cut gold evening gown.

  Ellie rocked back on her heels and whistled. “Very fashion-forward.”

  “Are you sure?” Alex frowned down at the décolletage swelling over the gown’s neckline. “I don’t look like a…I mean, it’s not over the top?”

  “I don’t do over the top.” Jen, clad in a brilliantly cut black ball gown, followed Alex out of the bathroom. “And neither does Zac Posen.”

  Alex looked horrified. “This is Zac Posen? Real Zac Posen? On my body? Right now?”

  Jen nodded.

  “You can’t lend me this! What if I accidentally rip it? I gotta tell you, I’m not sure the bodice is going to hold.”

  Jen shrugged. “I’ll take it to a tailor.”

  “Well, what if I accidentally spill wine on it?”