“Allen Rodgers. I remember that.”
“Yeah. Our staff PI actually catches a lot of spouses sneaking around with each other. They try to get in one last fuck before the papers are signed. Far as I understand it, the other spouse lets them in to try to settle, but it never works out that way. I don’t know how you deal with this industry, man.”
“I don’t either.” I offer a thin smile, but the wheels in my brain started wheeling. Tension was always tight between Kate and David, and I confirmed with her doorman he’d been over to her place with a bouquet of roses. It was the nail in the coffin for me. Could I fault Kate for sleeping with her ex to make the process less chaotic?
I shake it out of my head while Ronnie outlines his contract. I can’t slide back to Kate. I’m so close to being done with them forever. But if she was put in a position where she felt like she had to sleep with him…
“As you can see, it’s pretty air tight. We are successful at what we do for this reason. We don’t reveal sources and sources don’t reveal us.”
“Yet people still find you.”
“Only when we want to be found.” Ronnie offers a toothy grin. “I’m not going to lie, I’ve wanted some McArthur dirt.”
I look at the contract, but all I can see is Kate’s distressed face. David taking advantage of her so she won’t lose her livelihood. There’s always more to the story… isn’t there?
“I’ll look this over and get back to you.” I extend my hand. “Thank you for your time.”
“Look forward to hearing from you soon. Time is running out.”
It is. Which means I’ve got to figure this shit out fast.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
KATE
It’s shocking how quickly life can change. People walk across the street and end up dead every day. Someone comes home from work and finds their spouse cleaned out the apartment. Someone goes to sleep and wakes up a million miles away from home.
I take a pregnancy test and Lily moves into my apartment, short-term until we decide something better. What was once an amazing bachelorette pad with booze and frozen quiches turns into a den covered in baby magazines and formula samples.
“You should pull a Paltrow and name the baby after the food you eat the most during the pregnancy.” Lily says from behind a celebrity mama magazine. “Like Blueberry or Kumquat or something.”
“Kumquat?” I stare at her over my copy of Parenting. “I’m not a monster, Lily.”
“If someone names their kid Apple, you can go with Kumquat.”
“Yeah, but Apple doesn’t sound like post-sex jizz.”
“What the hell is post-sex jizz?”
“You know, after you have sex and it just keeps gushing?”
“I think that means there’s a problem.” Lily laughs. “Who the hell does that?”
“David.” I shrug. “He should probably see a doctor then, I don’t know. I don’t have a dick so I thought it was normal.”
“Nothing about him is normal.”
“Preach.” Lily pauses. “Actually. I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
I tense, trying to force up walls before she says anything. None of these conversations that start with “I’ve been meaning to ask” end with something pleasant. Like “do you like chocolate-covered almonds, because I have some” or “do you want this free-massage coupon at Rainfall?” No, it’s always terrible.
“It’s been a few days. Have you considered talking to David?”
“No.” I hide behind the magazine so she doesn’t see the look of hurt-filled terror on my face.
As if I’d do anything with that asshole ever again. He complicated my life in one-hundred different ways before this even happened. I was finally starting to feel relaxed. I got to taste freedom. And then he roped me back in with a freaking fetus.
“Give it a few days and see if you have a change of heart. This is a big deal.”
“No David ever again.” I swallow down a sharp lump in my throat. “I guess I haven’t told you about the most recent messages, then.”
“No.” Lily smacks her magazine on the couch. “What did he do now?”
“Oh, usual David shit.” I try to sound airy about it, like it doesn’t bother me. The complete opposite is true, but there’s that saying about faking it until you make it, right? “He’s threatening me with more bad press if I don’t agree to settle outside of court.”
“With what? Stories about how you wouldn’t suck his microscopic dick?” Lily snorts. “What an ass.”