Page 96 of Curveball
After my wife says hello and proves that one of us in this marriage has manners, Flynn clears his throat.
“Palmer, apparently, someone posted a pic of you wearing your wedding ring at some outdoor party.”
“Oh, no. It must have been at Gavin McNeer’s house. A welcome party for his brother, Gunnar,” she explains. She leaves out the part about the baby shower, which is probably for the best.
“But that was three fucking weeks ago,” I add. “Why’s this coming out now?”
Flynn just shakes his head, like it’s a mystery to him, too.
“She only happened to be in the background of the shot, and nobody realized who she is until now.”
“So, the story is out. Do we have to respond? If we don’t say anything to the press, will it just become yesterday’s news?” Palmer is remarkably calm. I am so proud of her.
“No, you need to take care of this, and today. Max, get with the team, make a statement; that’s my best advice. This won’t go away.”
Palmer is slowly nodding her head and taking deep breaths. I get up and walk to the wall of windows, looking out over the pool area and back yard.
“All right, yeah,” I say. “Thanks. I’ll be in touch.”
“Wait, hold up,” Flynn says before we have a chance to disconnect our call. “There’s other news, too, and this is the reason I couldn’t get back to you right away.”
“This is what you were busy with?”
“Pretty much.”
“We’re listening.”
“After that story leaked about the marriage, I heard from Alejandro Lopez’s attorney.”
“He calledyou?” Palmer squeaked out.
After her last showdown with Alejandro, Flynn had my lawyer notify him not to contact her directly. Any communication was to go solely through his office. Had I been magically transported to an alternate reality where I couldn’t protect Palmer from him? Everything we constructed to keep him away seemed to be falling apart.
“What does Lopez want now?” Pretty sure I growl that. I am so done with this guy, and the trouble he’s causing for my wife.
“Not what he wants, Murph. It’s what he’s willing to give up.”
“Flynn, I don’t understand,” Palmer says. She’s pacing the room, her features tense, and I have no idea what Flynn’s looking at because neither of us are looking at him.
“Yeah, what are you saying?” I demand, because Flynn doesn’t sound tense at all.
“I’m saying . . . Lopez cancelled his trip to Nashville, which I sense was a ruse all along, to get Palmer to comply with hiswishes. His attorney forwarded a copy of a letter he wrote. In it, he says . . . Here, I’ll forward it to you both, and you can read it.”
Within moments, both my phone and Palmer’s ping with notifications, and we move back to the bed where are phones are, and open the attachment Flynn sent.
Palmer skims it and paraphrases aloud. “His letter says he’s sad that I won’t be rejoining the family. He adds that I’m a kind and beautiful woman and a wonderful mother?—”
“Which of fucking course you are,” I interrupt. “And I want his balls for ever making you think otherwise.”
Palmer smiles and goes back to the letter. “He says he’ll leave me in peace, and champion me if his son ever tries to reach out. Wow, that’s something, I guess.”
“Jesus, did he really use that word,champion?” I ask, and Palmer chuckles.
“The guy does love using antiquated words.”
Flynn’s messing with shit on his desk as Palmer and I read it through again.
“Is this it?” Palmer asks Flynn. “Did he say anything else?”
