Page 57 of One Hot Fake


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I pull over, and as soon as I bring the car to a stop, Marian jumps out and runs for a clump of bushes. I kill the engine, grab a box of tissues, and go after her. I rub her back as she empties all the contents of her stomach.

I hand her tissues when she’s done throwing up.

“I’m sorry,” Marian says when we’re back in the car. “I don’t know where that came from.”

“It’s the shock,” I tell her. “It’s going to be okay.”

Tears fill her eyes. “How? I’m still married to him, Declan. The one person I hoped to never see again and … oh God, it’s all so messed up.”

I take her into my arms. “It will be fine; things will work out.” I’m a firm believer in things working out if we just give them a little time. I wasn’t always like that. I was the most impatient fucker who ever walked the earth, but with age comes wisdom.

“What about us?” she says.

“We’ll continue as we are as you make an appointment to see a divorce attorney. The way I see it, Leonard would not have gone to get a copy of the divorce unless he needed it. So, we’ll lie low and hope that the reason he went for it is compelling enough.”

She inhales deeply and manages her first smile. “Okay, we’ll do that. We have a plan.”

I kiss her forehead.

“You’re so smart,” she tells me.

Any other time, that comment would have pleased me but not now. “I’m sorry, Marian. This is all my fault. If I hadn’t punched Leonard, he wouldn’t have come after you like that.”

She’s thoughtful for a moment. “Maybe, but it felt damn good to know that you did something I wish I could have done myself.”

The drive back is uneventful, though we do stop one more time for Marian to throw up. I’m not too worried because I’m pretty sure that Leonard dropping that piece of news is the reason why.

Back in LA, Marian wants to go into her office for a couple of hours, and I want to check on the renovations as well. We arrange for me to pick her up at five-thirty. As I drive off, I’m glad that Marian has her work to keep her distracted.

It’s a terrible situation to be in, and it makes me feel so helpless to know that there’s nothing I can do for Marian. I find a parking spot easily enough and walk to the entrance. I’m immediately charmed by our company colors painted on the doors and entrance.

I greet the guys working around the space then make my way to the kitchen. I find Zoe there taking pictures with the foreman explaining stuff to her.

“Welcome back, boss,” Sebastian says.

“Thanks,” I say, and greet Zoe.

She comes over to show me the reactions that she’s having from the social media posts. All that flies over my head. As long as it’s all positive, I’m good.

“Everyone wants to know the opening day,” she says.

“I’ll confirm in the coming two weeks,” I tell her.

The foreman brings me up to date on how far they’ve come and what is remaining. I ask him to put me to work, and he hands me a hammer and some nails.

Time flies as I release my pent-up energy on the partition that divides the offices. Soon it’s time to leave, and I pack up the tools and say goodbye to everyone. I find Marian waiting for me outside.

She slides into the car and kisses me.

“I missed you,” I tell her.

She laughs. “It’s only been a couple of hours.”

“As long as you’re not with me, I miss you,” I tell her. “I’m making dinner tonight.”

“You’ll be hard-pressed to find something to cook. I haven’t shopped in a while,” Marian says.

“We’ll pass by the grocery store, no biggie,” I say.

“That’s you right there,” Marian says. “A lot of things are no biggie to you.”

I’m not sure from Marian’s tone whether what she says is a compliment or criticism. “I try to separate things I can do something about and things that I cannot. You don’t have ingredients at home. Easy peasy—we’ll buy them.”

“It’s a good way to live but difficult when you’re caught up in the moment,” Marian says.

“Have I ever told you about the time that Ace was deployed to Afghanistan? No?” I inhale deeply. “We’d fallen out, Ace and I. All of our family had fallen out over a stupid misunderstanding. Anyway, Ace signed up without my parents and me knowing about it. When we did find out, it was too late. He was gone.”

“Oh no,” Marian says.

I stop at a red light. “Those were the longest two years of my life. I woke up in a cold sweat for a year, dreaming that he’d been shot. Then I realized that I was slowly but surely driving myself insane. I sat down with myself and reasoned through it.”

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