I tried not to overthink it. I really did. I typed and erased my answer three times before I settled on–
I did. Had lunch with my brother and fell asleep on the terrace.
I'm jealous you had a nap without me. Neither of us got any sleep last night.
My body heated at the memory of what we'd done instead. For a second, I could taste him, salty and sweet under my lips, could feel him moving against me.
I almost dropped my phone.
I was being ridiculous. It wasn't like the phone could somehow transmit my lustful thoughts to Nash. Wouldn't that be humiliating? Shaking away the idea, I answered–
Thank you for everything.
His reply took a minute. When it came I puzzled over his words for days.
Anything you need, Parker. Always. See you soon.
ChapterTen
PARKER
My rooms were in a state of organized chaos. I was trying to focus on theorganizedaspect instead of the chaos. I'd woken this morning with that familiar knot of anxiety in my stomach. Yes, Griffen had taken on the burden of paying Angelica, but he'd made a good point.
I didn't have any money, nor did I have access to any. Not of my own, at least. I'm sure Griffen would have given me anything I asked for, but I was twenty-seven years old. I couldn't live with the humiliation of asking him for an allowance like I was a child instead of a full-grown adult.
I was familiar with the queasy burn of humiliation after all these years married to Tyler. I could do without that from now on, thank you very much. I'd get a job. I'd have to, sooner rather than later. But not today. I still had to figure some things out, like what I was interested in, and if I was qualified for anything. I'd finished college, possibly a point in my favor, but I'd been a dual English and French major with a concentration in French poetry and literature. Not the most useful skill set in the job market.
Before I tackled the issue of employment, I'd go after low-hanging fruit–the contents of my closet. Tyler had loved to shop. Especially since everything we bought went on Claudia's limitless credit card. I can't deny that I loved shopping too. It was possibly the only thing Tyler and I had in common. I'd only felt a twinge of guilt at spending Claudia's money. She'd always been so generous, so enthusiastic about my choices. Some of the best times I had with her were our shopping trips.
Claudia wouldn't mind what I was about to do. She'd be glad I was making lemonade out of lemons. I hoped. I couldn't bring myself to mention my plan during our brief conversation the day before. She'd been on her way out and had called to let me know that she'd secured Tyler an attorney, but with strict instructions that she wasn't paying for anything beyond an uncontested divorce on my terms.
Dryly, and a little sad, she'd admitted that she didn't have much hope that Tyler would agree. I'd cried a little when we got off the phone, grateful Claudia still loved me. She'd been the best part of my marriage to Tyler, by far, and it eased my worries a bit to know she wasn't angry with me.
Turning to face the chaos, I took in the piles of clothes on my bed. The dressing room was empty, the contents covering every surface in my suite. Like most of the family suites in Heartstone Manor, mine was divided into two spacious rooms, a sitting room and an adjoining bedroom with a generous dressing room and bath.
I loved my rooms. When we'd moved into Heartstone after my father's death, Tyler had insisted on redecorating. It was one of the only times I'd flat-out refused him. My mother and I had decorated my suite eighteen years ago, just before she'd died. She'd known she didn't have long, and she'd wanted me to have the 'grown-up' room I'd been asking for, had wanted to create it with me, before she was gone.
With Miss Martha's help, we'd poured over home design magazines together, carefully crafting a design esthetic that was probably too adult for the nine-year-old I'd been but was perfect for me now. Done in a midnight navy, with snow-white trim and crown moldings, and brushed gold accents, my rooms were both elegant and inviting. A deep green velvet sofa and chairs faced the fireplace in the sitting room, now with a flat-screen hanging above instead of the oil painting of sunflowers that had been there when I was a girl.
My childhood desk was still in the corner, with an ancient chair pushed in front. I'd have to find a new chair if I ended up using the desk, but the desk itself was another thing that had been too much for a little girl, but fit me now. Wide and deep, with curved legs and no drawers, it appeared light and airy but gave me plenty of space to work. At the moment it was heaped with suits. So many suits.
The pile of suits was arguably ridiculous. I hadn't had a proper job since I'd interned for my father after my freshman year in college. But these weren't business suits, they were the kind of suits I'd wear to lunch at the club, or to a board meeting for one of the charities I'd been involved in. I'd have to go through that pile carefully. Maybe I should keep them until I figured out a job, in case I needed them for work.
Purses covered the sofa and chairs. Again, so many purses. Why had I thought I needed so many? The answer was that I hadn't, but living with Claudia and Tyler, it was hard not to accumulate things. I felt a little guilty that Claudia had paid for all of this. If I was going to sell them and make a profit, I should give her back the money. I wasn't going to. For one thing, she wouldn't accept it. And, more realistically, I needed it.
That morning, I'd driven into town to open an account at the local credit union. Until then, I hadn't had an account that Tyler didn't also have access to. If I was going to build a nest egg, I didn't want him stealing it out from under me.
A knock sounded on my open bedroom door. I turned to see my younger sister Sterling leaning against the frame. "Did your closet explode?" she asked, strolling into the room.
"Kind of." I hesitated, not ready to explain. But this was Sterling, my baby sister who'd always loved me, even when I married Tyler and left her here alone with our father. Sterling, who had drunk her way to the bottom of a bottle before our father died, and had, so far, pulled herself back out through sheer grit. Sterling, whose first real relationship had ended a week ago when she discovered her new love had used her to get revenge for his father.
No matter how strong my instincts were to shut her out and pretend everything was fine, I couldn't do it. If I couldn't trust Sterling, who could I trust? I sank onto the edge of the green sofa, nudging a few purses out of the way. Sterling followed suit, sitting on one of the matching chairs beside my end of the sofa.
"I'm going through everything to see what I want to keep."
"And what are you going to do with the rest?" Sterling asked, scanning the room, taking in the piles of dresses, rows of shoes, and so much more.
"I, uh– Well, Tyler wasn't working and neither was I, and we don't, I mean, I don't–"
