Page 32 of Fractured (Not Quite a Billionaire)
“Soundproofing in the walls,” I muttered. “In my bedroom. Because Karen.”
“Oh,” she said. “Huh.”
“I can’t do that to you every night,” I pointed out. “I like hearing you make noise, and you like to do it.”
“I do.” She was snuggling closer, to my relief, getting comfortable on my shoulder, accepting my hand stroking over the sweet curves of her backside with another contented sigh. “But I don’t know how I’ll ever look Josh in the face again.”
I didn’t say anything, and she sat up and said, “Oh, no.”
“What?”
“He already did your office.”
I flung an arm over my face. “Hope,” I said. “Go to sleep. Please. Before I confess anything worse.”
Hemi
I hadn’t taken Hope to Queenstown yet when I got the call from Walter. I hadn’t got her and Karen farther than Rotorua, in fact, which turned out to be just as well.
The call came through in the car at one o’clock on Thursday afternoon, when I was driving around the lake in preparation for a few hours spent exploring the forest canopy, which involved a lot of zooming down flying foxes. A totally tourist activity, and totally all right by me, because I suspected the adventure would lead to Karen laughing and being excited, and I hoped it would lead to Hope screaming and needing a cuddle.
Clearly, I wasn’t as evolved as I could have been. I knew she was brave. I still needed to know that I could protect her, and to have her know it, too.
She hadn’t complained a bit about the wedding, or asked me about the divorce, either. There was one of us who seemed to be chafing at the delay, and it wasn’t her. Now, I saw Walter’s name come up on the display and didn’t even consider ringing off, which was something.
“Te Mana,” I said.
“We’ve located your wife,” he said. “She’d like to see you.”
The atmosphere in the car had been relaxed. It wasn’t anymore.
“Not a good idea,” I said.
“I don’t do family law,” he said, “as you know. But I’ve been consulting with an attorney over there, and he says she’s adamant. He says that…” He cleared his throat. “‘Kiwis are different,’ whatever that means. Less adversarial, apparently.”
He didn’t have to say the other bit.Which I wouldn’t have known, judging by you.Instead, he went on, “He believes that you’re more likely to get an amicable resolution if you work it out with her.”
“If I could’ve worked it out with her,” I said, “we wouldn’t be divorced.”
“You’re not divorced,” he said, and I thought,Oh. Right.“We’ll work with what you decide, of course,” he continued, “but he seems to think you’ve got a shot at making this go away faster.”
I glanced at Hope. She didn’t say anything, just sat still and listened, and I focused on taking the curve in the road, then said, “It’s not contestable, though. Not like there’s anything to decide. If one party wants the divorce, it’s done.” That much, I remembered from the first time around.
“There’s the matter of the property settlement,” Walter said dryly.
“You said three years.”
Hope said, “Hemi…” just as Walter said, “I’m getting indications—” then stopped. “Are you alone?”
“No,” I said. “Hope’s with me.”
“Hope? Is that the lady’s name?”
“Yeh, and you may as well meet her, as we still have that trust to take care of, and something for her sister as well. Hope Sinclair, this is my attorney, Walter Eagleton.”
“Hi,” Hope said. “Um…nice to meet you.” I could feel her eyes on me, questioning, but I focused on the road.
Walter said, “It might be better for you to call me back when we could speak freely.”
