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“Were you in Las Vegas three months ago?” Dan asked.
“Yes. I was there for a competition. What does that have to do—”
“Do you know a Maisie Sullivan?”
No. No way.
Shit.
They couldn’t have gotten married. Drew hadn’t even known Sullivan was Maisie’s last name until two seconds ago. She hadn’t heard a word from the woman in three months, which wasn’t all that surprising considering how Drew had skipped out on her without any explanation. Not that she hadn’t tried later, once she’d made it back to Wyoming and things had settled down. But every text had been marked as undeliverable.
“Drew?” Her dad was staring at her with a puzzled expression, and Drew realized she hadn’t answered Dan’s question.
“Yes. I had dinner with Maisie.”
“I think it’s safe to say you did more than that.” Dan chuckled, clearly not grasping the ridiculousness of the bombshell he’d just dropped. They were complete strangers. He scooted a piece of paper over for Drew to see. “This here is a copy of your marriage license. I got it directly from the Clark County clerk’s office.”
“I don’t understand.” Drew stared at the paper, all the words blurring as her eyes misted and stung. “This can’t be right. I didn’t get married.”
“Yet, it appears you did,” Dan replied, not unkindly, which pushed Drew even closer to tears. “I don’t know how to say this, but we can’t proceed until your wife signs these papers.”
“What are they for?” Drew’s voice was so shaky she wondered if Dan could understand her.
“To forfeit her claim.” Dan folded his hands on the table, looking every bit a lawyer now. “Whether you intended to get married or not, your wife has half ownership of the ranch under the conditions of your grandfather’s will.”
Drew was paralyzed by a terrible thought. “What if she won’t sign?”
Dan shook his head. “Then you’re going to need a better lawyer.”
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
“With this”—Donnatore off a piece of packaging tape and patted it across the flaps of the moving box—“you are officially packed.”
Maisie stared at the cardboard boxes stacked in the corner of her tiny apartment, or at least what had been her apartment until she’d stopped being able to pay the rent. Her vision dimmed at the edges, as if refusing to take it in. “I can’t believe it’s all done.”
“Believe it, baby,” Cheryl crowed as if they all should be doing a victory dance. “You’re on to bigger and better things.”
The words were a dagger to Maisie’s heart, but she couldn’t exactly correct her friend after all the effort she’d put into deceiving her. Both of them, really. As far as anyone from Taite and Greene was concerned, quitting had been the best thing to ever happen to Maisie, and she was living on top of the world. She forced a smile to keep up the pretense.
“This means it’s time for some well-deserved brewskis!” Donna placed a six-pack on top of the stack of boxes, it being the only surface in the room. “I know you’re heading back to school this fall, but what’s your plan for the next six months?”
“Uh—” Maisie accepted the bottle from Donna, not taking a sip. Maisie hadn’t let a drop of booze pass her lips since Vegas. Not after she’d blown up her life so spectacularly. She’d sometimes wondered if she might need to go to an AA meeting or something, although she was pretty sure if she did, she’d get laughed out of the room. Or maybe it was impressive to so thoroughly ruin everything after a single bender. They might give her an award. “I’m heading to Florida, actually.”
Cheryl sighed. “You are so lucky. Spending the days relaxing on the beach while the rest of us working stiffs sit in our cubicles under blinking fluorescent lights and freeze our butts off in the cold? You’re living the dream.”
Except, Maisie would’ve done anything to be one of those working stiffs. She’d been job hunting for three months. She’d never thought Milwaukee had anything in common with a small town, but apparently, gossip traveled faster here than in a beauty parlor on senior citizen’s day. There wasn’t a company in the city limits that hadn’t heard of her dustup with Mr. Taite. At this point, not even McDonald’s would touch her with a ten-foot pole. John Taite had an in with the mayor’s office, and as far as she could gather, everyone was afraid to ruffle her former boss’s feathers by hiring her.
“Don’t get too used to it, or you may not want to head back north for school in September, in time for more snow.” Donna gave Maisie a playful elbow nudge to the ribs.
The truth was, there was every chance when September came, Maisie wouldn’t be heading back to school. She’d signed her letter of intent, sure, but that was only because if she hadn’t, she would’ve lost her place and forfeited her chance to return for good. It didn’t mean that all the financial particulars had been worked out. She’d applied for more scholarships than she’d even known existed and had practically begged every bank in America to give her a chance.
So far, the result had been a big goose egg.
“Maybe you could do online classes from Florida,” Cheryl suggested.
That was a big fat no. It was technically possible, but if Maisie tried to fulfill her remaining credits online, she’d lose her ability to graduate under the catalog requirements that had been in place when she’d first enrolled. That meant completing the dreaded internship, which was what she was trying to avoid in the first place by re-enrolling in the fall. There simply was no easy solution.
“Trust me; after spending this much quality time with my mom and her new beau, I’ll be dying to come back.” Or just dead, period. Maisie loved her mom, but they did better in short visits. Six days would be pushing it. Six months was… a lot.
