“You wantmyhouse?” Paige yelled. Heat flushed through her body and her heartbeat pounded in her ear.
“Yes, I do,” Julius sneered. “You purchased that house while we were still married. It’s community property. And I want it.”
“You’ve never even stepped foot in that house,” Paige growled.
Demi called to her, “Paige?”
But Paige couldn’t hear anything except the loud voices in her head that had warned her against marrying Julius. She couldn’t see anything but the smug look on his face right now. Friends, colleagues, her mother . . . they’d all told her not to do it. They’d begged her to reconsider, to walk away from him. But she’d plunged ahead, floating on a cloud of lies and making the biggest mistake of her life.
“There’s no way in hell,” Paige said. “You think you can come in here and demand that I give you anything? After what you did to me?” Demi placed a hand on Paige’s arm, but there was no calming the anger that had consumed her.
“I’m willing to have you buy me out.” Julius leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs in front of him, like the smug bastard he’d always been.
Asshole.
“Pay me half of the value, and I’ll sign the papers,” he said. “And you can continue to be the stupid woman you’ve always been.”
Paige turned to Demi. “Can I use your red marker?” she asked.
Frowning, Demi said, “You’re not signing this.”
“Please?” Paige held out a hand.
With a heavy sigh, Demi placed a red Sharpie in Paige’s hand. “We should talk about this before you sign that.”
“No need to talk. I’m done talking.”
“As your attorney, I’m going to highly advise that you take a step back. We’ll discuss everything later.”
Ignoring her attorney, Paige bent low and scribbled two words in big capital letters on the front page:FUCK YOU.
Chapter Two
It had been two months since that disastrous settlement conference, and Paige was still married to Julius. After she’d scribbled those two big words on their proposed agreement, the meeting was over.
Before Julius could say anything, Demi had ordered Julius and Michael to leave the building. Since then, he’d tried to contact Paige several times, via text, via phone, via email. He’d even shown up to the studio when he knew she’d be there—and promptly got arrested for violating the restraining order she’d had on him.
Despite her objections, he’d sent a Realtor to her house to assess its value. The poor Realtor had no idea what was going on, but found out soon enough when Paige told the woman exactly what she could do with the clipboard she was holding.
With the divorce hearing fast approaching, Paige couldn’t help but worry about the outcome. Even though Demi had assured her not to stress about it, she found herself obsessing about it, going over everything she’d done wrong in their relationship, blaming herself for her predicament.
Shifting in her favorite spot—her chaise lounge—she peered out at the ocean. The September breeze felt like balm against her skin. Paige had always loved being near the water. Growing up, they’d always lived near a beach—Manhattan Beach, Topanga Beach, or even the Good Harbor Beach off of Lake Michigan. Living in Atlanta with Julius for that short time had been hard for her. She’d missed the sand between her toes, the crash of waves against the shore, and the scent of sea air in her nose. Now he wanted to take it from her, he wanted to steal her joy, he wanted to snatch her peace.
Paige’s phone buzzed and she picked it up. She stared at the text from Andrew: How are you?
Disappointment filled the empty spaces in her heart as she contemplated her response to that question. Maybe he would know how she was doing if he’d been around to see the toll her divorce had taken on her life. They’d talked briefly over the past couple months about business, never about anything of substance. It was an obvious switch from the easy rapport they’d once had with each other.
Over the years, she’d come to depend on his guidance. More than that, she’d considered them friends. She’d grown to love him as a person and not just her agent. There was even a time when she’d thought it could be more than that. But his work obligations and her career trajectory had nipped that sentiment in the bud. Still, they’d remained close. And now they weren’t. It pissed her off, because she’d hoped he would be standing with her. She’d yearned for his strong, silent support. He didn’t offer it in the way she’d expected, and it pissed her off.
Instead of replying to his text, though, she turned her phone off. It was better she didn’t answer. It was best that she put Andrew in the same category as most people in her life—colleague. Not friend, not confidante, not . . .
The doorbell rang, and she dragged herself out of her safe haven and hurried to get it. The security firm she’d hired wouldn’t have let anyone get close if the visitor wasn’t on her approved list. Peering through the glass, she smiled at the sight of her publicist, Skye.
“Hi, Skye,” she said, opening the door.
“Hey, Paige.”
“Come in.” Paige stepped back, allowing Skye to enter. “What are you doing in town?”
