Sasha reached over to give her aunt a hug. "You know I always love coming out here. And that I still consider this place home, even though I moved out a long time ago."
"It will always be your home, Sasha," assured Linda. "But before you go, tell me. What are you planning to do about this new man in your life, hmm?"
Sasha sighed. "I wish I knew. Like I told you, I'm not even sure he's interested in me. We're nothing alike, live in two totally different worlds. I don't know anything about fashion or designer clothes, but even I can tell that his suits and shoes must be horrendously expensive. And when I mentioned where Matthew lives to Chad, he told me all of those condos cost big bucks, like five million dollars for the smallest ones."
Linda regarded her niece curiously. "And how do you know where he lives?"
Sasha bit her bottom lip uncertainly. "He, ah, might have arranged for me to do an in-home massage on Monday. He's a very busy man, you see, and has to travel a lot on business. So he asked if I could possibly work around his schedule every so often."
Linda grinned. "And you still think he's not interested in you that way, niná?"
Sasha gave her aunt a mock glare. "You know very well that I have several clients that I see at their homes. Tessa and Ian are two that come to mind, and I have a few others as well."
"Ah, but are those clients as stimulated as your Matthew gets during a massage? And do any of them tip you more than a hundred dollars each time?" asked Linda pointedly. "He might be as busy as he says, but I guarantee you that he's got other motives behind asking you to do an in-home appointment. I have a feeling that come Monday you're going to discover that your Matthew is very, very interested in you, Sasha. And not just as his massage therapist."
"Lindsey, for what is probably the fiftieth time, no. I am not interested in seeing a marriage counselor with you. In order for counseling sessions to do any good, both parties in the marriage have to actually want for things to improve. And even though you insist that's what you want, I'm having a real tough time believing that. Why? Maybe because despite all your claims that you love me and want me back, I happen to know you're still intent on sleeping your way through all seven Bay Area counties before the year is up. And stop trying to deny it, Linz. I can give you names, dates, times, and hotel room numbers, and probably what color shoes you were wearing each time. Yes, my P.I. is very, very thorough. The best in the business from what I'm told."
"I can't believe you're still having me followed around like that," hissed Lindsey. "Especially since you're the one who moved out on me. What do you care what I do any longer, so long as the kids aren't involved?"
"I don't give a damn who you fuck," he replied calmly. "But I do care about those divorce papers, the ones you keep refusing to sign. So, yes, I am still having you followed, Linz, in case I have to resort to using that information one of these days to force your hand."
She gasped. "You wouldn't dare, you bastard! You wouldn't dare make that information public, or risk letting the kids find out. What sort of man are you, Matt?"
"The sort who wants this marriage over with once and for all," he retorted. "And you're right - I don't want the kids to know that their mother is a whore. But if you keep up this bullshit about not signing the papers, things might have to get ugly. And if a judge learned about all of your little flings, it's pretty much a given that I'd get full custody of Hayley and Casey, too. So you should give your lawyer a call, Linz, and tell her you're finally ready to end this thing."
"Screw you!" she spat out. "You don't have the guts to use that information against me, wouldn't risk hurting the kids that way. And even a man as nerdy and sexless as you wouldn't want the word to get out that his wife had to find satisfaction somewhere else. Maybe if you'd been a better lover I wouldn't have had to scratch my itch with other men. And I'm not signing those goddamned papers. Not now and not ever!"
She disconnected the call abruptly, leaving Matthew to glare darkly at the phone in his hand. He was sorely tempted to fling the device clear across the room and watch it shatter into a hundred pieces.
Instead, he set the phone down on his desk, closed his eyes, and began to take deep, calming breaths - just the way Sasha had been teaching him. It was only one of the ways she was helping him to combat his sky high stress levels.