The Pre-Nup Page 2

  Ellie waved her hands in vague loops. “I’m not sure yet.”

  Mara was having none of this. “Well, he doesn’t know that you know yet, right?”

  “I don’t even know exactly what I know,” Ellie said. “I mean, yes, obviously he’s up to something, but I don’t know with who or for how long or why—”

  “The important thing is that you’ve busted him and he doesn’t know it yet. You’ve got the upper hand!” Mara’s blue eyes gleamed. “Now you can get all your ducks in a row before you make your move. You’re going to take him for everything he’s got. He’ll end up penniless and alone, begging you to take him back, but you’ll spit on—”

  “Excuse me,” Jen finally broke in. “When did this turn into a bad honky-tonk song?”

  “If it were a honky-tonk song, she’d just grab his shotgun off the front porch and blow him away,” Mara said. “Listen, El, here’s what you do: First, install a keystroke logger on his computer, get all his passwords, and keep track of the messages going to and from this Vixen_MD harlot. Second, call your cell provider and get copies of his phone records for the last six months. In the meantime, I’ll help you find a positively rabid divorce attorney. Oh, and don’t forget to make photocopies of all your tax returns and investment portfolio and put them in a safe place. And you might want to make an appointment with your doctor for STD testing, just to be on the safe side.”

  “Mara! A little tact, please!” Jen admonished.

  “I’m giving her good advice, free of charge. Tact is your department.”

  “Shut up before she passes out.” Jen regarded her friend with growing concern. “Ellie? Honey? Are you okay?”

  Ellie was still staring down at her shoes. Her complexion had taken on an alarming green undertone.

  Jen shucked off her sweatshirt and spread it on the dewy grass next to the asphalt path. “Here, sit down. Put your head between your knees. Do you want me to get you some water?”

  Ellie sank to the ground, swallowed hard, and said, “No, I’m okay. But Mara’s right. I have to get it together and figure out what I’m going to do.”

  Jen shook her head. “You don’t have to decide anything right now. Take all the time you need. We’re here. We’ll support you, no matter what.”

  “Yeah, we’re here for you.” Mara flashed Jen a discreet thumbs-up and mouthed, “Tact!”

  Ellie emitted a strangled bleat that was half laugh, half sob. “Well, I have to leave him. Right? He cheated on me. An affair is a deal breaker; everyone knows that.”

  “Calm down.” Jen squeezed Ellie’s shoulder. “Breathe.”

  Ellie gulped for air. “If you had asked me twenty-four hours ago what I’d do if I found that text message, I’d have said ‘Drop him flat.’ Wouldn’t hesitate. But now…it’s not that simple. I mean, what about Hannah? She’s only three! What’s the good-mother thing to do here? Stay, so she has an intact family, or leave, so she sees me as a strong, independent role model?”

  “You have to do what’s right for you,” Jen said. “No one else can make this decision for you.”

  Ellie turned to her with wide, wild eyes. “What would you do?”

  Jen coughed to stall for time. “If I found out Eric was having an affair?”

  “Apples and oranges,” Mara objected. “Jen wouldn’t care if Eric were having an affair.”

  “Don’t say that! Of course she would!” But Ellie looked a bit dubious when she whispered to Jen, “You would, wouldn’t you?”

  Jen knelt down to retie her shoelace. “I, um…Look, we’re not talking about me.”

  They heard the distant thwack of a golf club, and Mara threw her arms up to shield her face.

  “Relax.” Jen laughed and pointed out the foursome across the fairway. “They’re not even aiming in our direction.”

  “I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve almost been clocked in the head out here,” Mara said. “And I’m sure I’m not the only one. This golf course is a personal-injury lawsuit in the making, I tell you.”

  “I have to confront him.” Ellie dusted off her palms and got back on her feet. “It’s the only way. I’ll tell him exactly what I found and demand that he—”

  “No!” Mara shook her head so fast, her hair came free and whapped her cheeks. “Do not give him a heads-up. You want the element of surprise on your side.”

  “Screw the element of surprise.” Ellie squared her shoulders. “I just want answers. I want brutal honesty.”

  “Then hire a private investigator! Get dates, names, photos, whatever you need. But don’t confront him until you have enough evidence to nail his balls to the wall.”

  “You are crazy hard-core,” Jen marveled. “Remind me never to cross you.”

  “I’m just getting started,” Mara shot back. “Ellie can’t think rationally right now, so someone has to look out for her best interests. I.e., me.”

  “No. I can do this by myself.” Ellie started walking again, gathering speed and indignation with every step. “He’s my husband and I will handle him.” She was practically running now. “I’m smart, I’m strong, I—I’ll unleash the bitch within!”

  Jen and Mara exchanged dismayed looks as they hurried after her.

  “Maybe you’re right,” Jen murmured. “She’s too emotional right now.”

  “Well, she’s madly in love with her husband.” Mara said this with genuine sympathy and then added, with even greater sympathy, “It’s not like with you and Eric.”

  Mara was wrong, Jen chanted over and over in her head as she headed home after the walk. Mara was wrong.

  She did love Eric; she had for years. Was it a story-book romance bursting at the seams with fate and soul-mates and all that Cinderella crap? Of course not. But what they had was better in the long run: a rock-solid relationship that could go the distance. No drama. No surprises.

  No one home. Jen twisted her key in the lock and dashed over the threshold to punch in the code on the alarm panel. Bright golden sunlight poured into the foyer through the skylight above the glass tile mosaic inlaid on the floor.

  “Hello?” she called down the hall. “Lotus? Here, kitty, kitty.”

  But the plump black cat didn’t appear. Lotus was a former stray, now spoiled rotten and selectively deaf (though he could hear the metal scrape of a can opener from a hundred yards).

  Jen kicked off her damp sneakers, padded into the kitchen, and pried open the massive stainless-steel refrigerator doors. The muted hum of the appliance motor was the only sound in the house. Four bedrooms, an office, a living room, a dining room, a family room, a three-car garage, and a huge in-ground pool all to herself, plus a master bathroom big enough to play racquetball in. (The Mayfair Estates crowd was very big on status bathrooms.)

  She grabbed the remote control on the countertop and clicked on the small television next to the microwave. The chirpy patter of a morning talk show kept her company as she spooned some cottage cheese into a bowl, then added plain yogurt and a sprinkling of whole-grain oat cereal for texture. High protein, high calcium, and lots of complex carbohydrates. She curled up in one of the wrought-iron kitchen chairs and gazed through the French doors toward the golf course. This was shaping up to be a perfect Scottsdale Saturday: sunny and mellow with a hint of early spring warmth. Other women in the neighborhood were probably getting ready to play tennis or go shopping or…do whatever it was normal suburban wives did with their husbands on the weekends.

  Jen ate slowly, gazed out at a pair of golfers trying to pitch their way out of a sand trap, and tried to figure out why she wasn’t looking forward to an afternoon of solid, uninterrupted work time. It wasn’t as if she had no other options. If she wanted to, she could give herself the afternoon off to go to the movie theater or the spa. She could get her short, wavy blond hair dyed auburn or buy a whole new wardrobe. She could do something wild and spur-of-the-moment.

  And yet.

  Five minutes later, she rinsed out her dish, trudged into her cluttered home
office, and fired up the PC. She opened a series of data files and glanced at the latest sales reports for Noda, the health drink she’d spent the better part of a decade creating and marketing. She’d just hired a new sales rep and a publicist, and wanted to make sure the expenditure was paying off. Her company was her passion—her obsession, according to Ellie and Mara. But no matter how Jen tried to focus on the numbers, she couldn’t keep herself on-task today. Finally, she turned away from the screen and dialed the cordless phone.

  “Hey, honey,” she said when Eric picked up. “How’s New York?”

  “Frigid and claustrophobic. How’s the weather there?” Her husband sounded distant and distracted, but business travel exhausted him, so Jen chalked it up to the strain of too many time zone changes and room service meals.

  Jen sighed. “Gorgeous. As usual. Do you have a minute to chat?”

  “I think I can pull myself away from the division account books.” His tone was wry. The year after Jen founded Noda, Eric had passed the CPA exam and worked his way up to head auditor for a telecommunications firm headquartered in Phoenix. As the company expanded, so had his responsibilities, and he spent an increasing amount of time out of town, meeting with regional accounting staffs. Eric’s job was definitely not his passion (he often joked that his response to “And what do you do?” would kill any cocktail party conversation in under sixty seconds), but so far he’d resisted looking for other positions.

  “What’s up with you?” he asked. “Let me take a wild guess: you’re working?”

  She paused, making a concerted effort not to tense up. “Just going over the new sales reports.”

  “It’s like I’m psychic.”

  “Either that or I’m incredibly boring and predictable.” She summoned all her nerve, and forged ahead. “But listen, I have an idea. Do you want me to fly out there?”

  “Where, New York?”

  “Well, yeah.” She laughed, suddenly girlish and flustered. “I could go online right now and book a flight. Be there by midnight.”

  “Tonight? Really?”

  He didn’t have to sound so startled. “Why not? Surely they don’t expect you to work all weekend?”

  “Well, no, but I figured since it’s such a long flight back and I have so much left to do out here, I’d just stay at the hotel until—”

  “Perfect timing, then,” she said. “We’re always saying we should go somewhere together, take a real vacation.”

  Eric cleared his throat.

  “Oh, forget it,” she said. “That’s stupid, right? I know. You’re reading reports and overseeing things and, uh…auditing. You don’t have time for—”

  “No, no,” he stammered. “Come on out. It’ll be great. We’ll go see a show or something. Be total tourists. Take a carriage ride in Central Park.”

  “Never mind. I don’t know what got into me.” Jen gnawed the inside of her cheek. “I have a lot going on out here. And besides, someone has to feed the cat.”

  “Right, the cat.” Another long pause. “Well. I know you’re working.”

  “I am, indeed,” she said brightly. “And so are you. We’ll do it some other time. Plan something really special.”

  “Absolutely. Go someplace exotic.”

  “Tahiti, maybe. Or the Canary Islands.”

  “Whatever you want.” His voice was flat.

  “I’ll look up resorts online,” she promised, but she knew—and so did Eric—that this mythical vacation was never going to materialize.

  Another agonizing silence ensued. Jen squirmed in her cushy leather desk chair.

  “Okay. Well, you’re busy,” he said. “I’ll let you go.”

  “Stay warm!” She flinched at her own forced joviality. “Have a fresh bagel with lox for me.”

  “Will do. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  And that, she told herself sternly as she hung up the phone, would have to be enough. Eric was a good husband, and Jen tried hard to be a good wife, but the truth loomed between them, unspoken but undeniable: They loved each other, but they weren’t in love.

  She clicked back to her data files, but couldn’t process the information splashed across the computer screen. The burn of shame and failure spread through her body. No way could she sit still. She snatched the phone back up and paced back and forth across the study. First she dialed Ellie’s number, but her call went straight to voice mail. Presumably, Ellie was too embroiled in an epic marital showdown to answer right now.

  Then she tried Mara, who picked up on the second ring.

  “Hey, babe, shouldn’t you be working?”

  Jen stopped in her tracks. “Hey! I don’t work all the time, you know.”

  “Just when you’re awake,” Mara amended. “My mistake.”

  “How can you say that? I just saw you a few hours ago. And did I say one word about Noda? No, I did not. I have a life, okay? I have—”

  “All right, all right, simmer down there. You don’t have to justify yourself to me. Nothing wrong with getting out there and making a little cheddar.”

  “That’s right,” Jen huffed. “Damn straight.”

  “I’m so glad you’re not defensive. Jeez.”

  “I’m not defensive; I’m merely pointing out—”

  “Oh, let’s not argue, little worker bee. What’s up? How may I help you on this fine, sunny afternoon?”

  “Well, actually, I’m a little…” Jen stopped before she had to spit out the word lonely. “Do you want to get together later? Catch a movie or something?”

  “Sounds great, but I’ll have to take a rain check. Josh and I are picking out wedding bands as we speak.”

  Jen automatically glanced down at the diamond sparkling away on her left hand, a reminder of the promise she and Eric had made to always stay hopeful and happy. “Aw. Are you having fun?”

  “Jewelry shopping is my personal definition of fun. And, hey, while we’re on the subject of fun, want me to schedule an appointment with the bridal salon to finalize the bridesmaids’ dress selection next weekend?”

  “Ooh, be still my heart. I’ll be counting the minutes.”

  “You just earned yourself an extra-poufy butt bow, missy.” Mara suddenly sounded louder, as if she’d cupped her hand over the phone’s mouthpiece. “Oh, and I didn’t want to say anything in front of Ellie this morning, but rumor has it that a certain tall, dark, and handsome doctor without borders has been spotted back in town.”

  Jen stopped breathing.

  “Hello? Jennifer? Is this thing on?”

  Jen clenched her fingers around the smooth alder planks of her desktop. “I’m here.”

  “No confirmed sightings, but I figured I should warn you before you ran into him in a restaurant or something and had an aneurysm and died before your time.”

  “I appreciate that,” Jen said stiffly, “but I couldn’t care less. That whole fiasco is ancient history, and we will never speak of it again.”

  “Okay, but if you do happen to cross paths with him—”

  “I won’t.”

  “Right, but if you ever want to talk—”

  “What part of ‘we will never speak of it again’ is not clear?” Jen flinched at the sharp serration in her tone. “And don’t mention any of this to Eric. We’re working through some stuff right now, and if he hears Patrick’s back…”

  “Have no fear,” Mara assured her. “My lips are sealed.”

  Mara Chapter 3

  We’d like to see something with diamonds. Lots of diamonds,” Josh told the bespectacled salesman at Paradise Valley Fine Jewelry. “Think P. Diddy.”

  Mara choked on the breath mint she’d popped in her mouth just before entering the store. “But tasteful.”

  “Taste, schmaste. Bring on the bling. Only the best for my bride.” Josh beamed. So did the sharp-featured salesman with the terrible brown toupee.

  “Please, have a seat.” He introduced himself as Roger and ushered them over to the matching beige settees in th
e back corner of the shop. “May I get you something to drink? Water? Coffee? Champagne?”

  “Booze and diamonds,” Mara mused. “Could be a dangerous combination.”

  “I like the way you think,” Josh said. “Two glasses of champagne, please.” Roger rushed off, all but rubbing his hands together in anticipation of the drunken shopping spree about to ensue.

  Mara collapsed on the love seat and pressed Josh’s hand between both of hers. “I appreciate the sentiment, I do, but you already bought me the world’s most gorgeous engagement ring. We don’t have to go crazy with the wedding rings. I’m fine with a simple gold band.”

  Josh sat down next to her. “Let me ask you a question: How many of the lawyers at your firm have plain gold bands?”

  “Well.” She shrugged. “All the men do.”

  “And the women?”

  Mara couldn’t deny that the ladies at Johnson, Lavin & Hein, LLP, liked their luxe. Everyone from the office assistants to the equity partners was relegated to subdued dark suits, and engagement rings were one of the few acceptable vestiges of conspicuous consumption. So skating rinks in six-prong settings had become de rigueur around the conference table.

  “Uh…”

  He extricated his fingers from her grasp and squeezed her knee. “Don’t you deserve the best?”

  NO was Mara’s immediate response to this question. But she knew better than to dredge up the past, so she simply smiled and cooed, “I already have the best: you.”

  They were midway through a leisurely kiss when Roger ahemed behind them. Mara pulled away from Josh and accepted the plastic flute of sparkling wine the salesman proffered. She and Josh touched their glasses together with a dull thunk.

  Roger allotted them half a second to savor the romance of the moment, then whipped out a tray full of rings and got right down to business. “These are our eternity bands; diamonds all the way around. We just got this one in last week. The stones are Asscher-cut. Excellent color and clarity. It would complement your engagement ring perfectly.”

  It would also cost a fortune. Mara didn’t know exactly how much Josh had spent on her engagement ring, but she recognized quality when she saw it. His salary as a nonprofit advisor only stretched so far. And when she thought about all their financial goals for the future: travel, having children and putting them through college, retirement…