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Chapter 1
Alex curled her fingers around the stem of the shallow glass as the loud, happy voices of her staff bounced off the restaurant’s walls. She’d been looking forward to this margarita since this afternoon, when the jury found her client not guilty. Now, most members of her small firm were gathered around a large table, toasting and celebrating the victory.
She lifted the drink and her stomach rolled as the smell of tequila washed over her. She set the glass carefully on the table just as someone bumped her chair, jolting her and sending bright flashes of pain through her already-aching head. Green margarita slush landed on her plate of chips.
Irritated, Alex swiveled and watched the back of a tall, dark-haired man in jeans and a sweater stumble away and lurch toward the bathroom corridor. Drunk and clumsy. She sighed and turned back to the table.
Fifteen minutes later, she pushed her plate of enchiladas away. Her head throbbed, and her stomach churned. Thank God whatever this was had waited until after she’d delivered her closing argument.
She leaned close to her partner Sierra. “I’m heading home,” she said. “I feel awful.”
Sierra turned and studied her. Frowned. “You’ve been sick a lot lately, Alex,” she said quietly. “Are you pregnant?”
“God, no,” Alex said. “You have to actually have sex to get pregnant. And I’ve been on birth control since I met Jerry. He’s not father material.”
Sierra settled back in her chair. “You don’t want kids?”
“Yeah, I’d like to have kids someday.” She fiddled with her fork instead of looking at Sierra.
“So are you gonna divorce that loser and find someone who is father material?”
Alex drew in a deep breath. “Yes. I am.” She wadded her napkin into a tiny ball, then tossed it onto her uneaten enchiladas as her stomach once again churned. “Remember I told you I was taking some time off after this case was over? I’m going away this weekend. Thinking through my options.”
“What options?” Sierra asked, shifting closer to her. Alex glanced around the table, but none of their paralegals were paying attention. “Jerry? Or a decent guy? I’d say that’s a no-brainer.”
“You’re right.” Alex flopped against the back of the chair. “I shouldn’t have married him,” she finally confessed. “He was… easy.” She nudged her partner. “You remember how it was in law school. Total focus. On top of that, Mary had just died, and that was a huge blow. Jerry didn’t require a lot of my emotional energy or attention. We sort of drifted into marriage after I graduated.”
“And now you’re drifting out?” Sierra asked sharply.
“No. Definitely not drifting. But I’m taking a few days to plot my departure strategy.”
Sierra snorted. “Your strategy is get out. Now.” She nudged Alex. “No wonder you’re sick all the time. Living with that asshole has to be damned stressful.”
“I hardly see…” Alex stopped. Frowned. Turned to Sierra. “I haven’t seen Jerry much lately. Just in the morning. He makes my coffee and hands it to me when I’m on my way out the door. So he’s not stressing me out.”
“Then you should go see your doctor,” Sierra said. “Find out why you’re sick all the time.”
Alex nodded slowly, remembering Jerry’s smug smile that morning. Had he looked pleased with himself every morning when he handed her the coffee?
Jerry wasn’t the type to do nice things for his wife. So why had he been going out of his way to make coffee for her?
A cold ball of dread formed in her stomach. “Yeah. I’ll do that.” Jerry’s thoughtful gesture should have been a flashing warning sign. They hadn’t had that kind of relationship in a long time. And Jerry had never been thoughtful.
She grabbed Sierra’s wrist. “Could you do me a huge favor? There’s a mostly-full coffee cup on my desk. I swallowed a mouthful before we left to come here, forgetting it had been sitting there all day. Could you take it to a lab and have it tested? Make sure there’s nothing in it besides coffee?”
Sierra’s eyes widened. “You think Jerry might be poisoning you?”
Alex rubbed her forehead. “When you say it like that, it sounds ridiculous. Melodramatic,” she muttered. “Forget it.”
As she spoke, the tall man in jeans and a dark sweater came around the corner from the restrooms. As Alex watched him, he turned his head as he passed their table, as if scanning the restaurant for someone. His clothes looked identical to the ones worn by the drunk who’d bumped into her chair. But this guy was stone cold sober.
He disappeared behind her, and she forgot all about him when Sierra leaned close. “I’ll get that coffee cup tested. And I’m going to draw up divorce papers for you,” she said quietly. “Tomorrow. No pressure, but you’ll know I have them. When you’re ready, I’ll file. Okay?”
Should she make this huge life decision in a Mexican restaurant, over a dinner she was too sick to eat? No. But she hadn’t had the energy to think about it during her trial.
And was there really a choice?
Her throat swelled and she nodded. “Do it.”
