Foolish Games(97)

“Wow, you’ve really thought this through.” The surprise in Carly’s voice burned through Julianne. Once again, she was reminded of irresponsible decisions she’d made this past year, but she didn’t think that qualified her for being a total nitwit.

“Try not to sound so shocked,” Julianne said, unable to keep the bitterness from her own voice.

Sorrow and regret shimmered in Carly’s eyes, forcing Julianne to look away. Fortunately, she was saved from continuing their conversation by the sound of the doorbell. Julianne’s heart leaped instantly.

Will had come at last.

She raced to the front door, checking her frazzled appearance in a mirror as she passed by. Smoothing down her wild hair, she pasted a bright smile on her face as she pulled open the front door. Her smile vanished quickly, though, when she caught sight of the man standing on the front step.

“Roscoe?” Carly said from behind her.

Disappointment surged through Julianne, forcing her to tightly grip the doorknob so she wouldn’t collapse onto the tile floor. She glanced past Will’s agent, but he was alone. Will wasn’t coming, after all. Her throat constricted and she was glad Carly was asking questions because she wasn’t able to speak at all.

“What are you doing here?” Carly asked.

Roscoe lifted the baby seat he held in his hand. “I’ve come to get Owen for a visit with his father.”

Julianne rocked back on her heels, her fingers white-knuckled around the doorknob as she tried to process Roscoe’s statement. Not only was Will not coming, but he’d sent his obnoxious agent to fetch their son. Was this how their life was going to play out from now on?

“Don’t look so surprised, Julianne.” Roscoe set the carrier down on the floor and assumed his belligerent lawyer stance. “Your text said Owen would be available this afternoon for a visit, so here I am. Obviously, Will would prefer to have as little contact with you as possible, so I’ll be the go-between until we can set up a more formal procedure.”

If Roscoe intended his words to wound, he was definitely on target. But Julianne would die before she let this man see that. “I’ll pack some things,” she said as she stiffly turned away from the door.

“Not necessary. Will has already bought everything he’ll need. Today’s visit will only be for a few hours, anyway. He and I still have some legal prep work to get through before the hearing tomorrow.”

This time, Roscoe hit the bull’s-eye. Guilt swept through Julianne’s limbs and she sank down on the small bench in the entryway. This mess was all her doing. If only she had kept her mouth shut.

“Why don’t I go get Owen?” Carly’s offer saved Julianne from having to negotiate with her protesting body to stand.

Roscoe handed over the new baby carrier and Carly disappeared into the house to get Owen. No doubt Will had an entire nursery decorated and ready at his loft. Obviously, he’d thought of everything. Including a strategy to never see her again.

“I’m surprised he didn’t send you with Bubble Wrap,” she quipped.

One corner of his mouth twitched before he apparently remembered she was the enemy. He pulled an envelope from the pocket of his suit jacket. “Your copy of the separation papers. I filed them this morning.”

He held the envelope out for her, but Julianne was having trouble making her arms move. Roscoe finally tossed it down onto the bench beside her. “The divorce will be final one year from today. For now, you share joint custody. But we’ll revisit that after we finish with the hearing tomorrow.”

Julianne’s hand flinched as the envelope grazed her fingers. The rest of her body was numb. “How annoyingly efficient you are, Roscoe. I hope Will pays you well.”

If he answered, she didn’t hear him because Owen had begun crying again. His forlorn wails filled the foyer as an anguished Carly handed the baby, now strapped in his carrier, to Roscoe.

“Shh.” Roscoe gently swung the car carrier as he brushed a thumb over Owen’s temple. Owen calmed measurably as his mouth settled around the pacifier Roscoe offered him.

Julianne wrapped her arms around her midsection in order to keep from grabbing her son back. If she touched Owen, even kissed him good-bye, she’d never be able to let Roscoe leave with him. “Please,” she pleaded. “Be careful with him.”

Empathy touched his eyes. “I have twin boys. They’ve made it almost three years with me as a parent. Owen will be just fine. I’ll have him back, safe and sound, by eight o’clock.”

He whispered something to Carly as he walked back out the open door.

“Roscoe!” Julianne called, springing to her feet.