She’d always regretted that she hadn’t gone to college. She’d browsed the catalog online, but hadn’t ever registered, let alone taken a class.
She had a job with Mindy—a silly part-time job that was maybe sixteen hours a week. It was fun and she enjoyed it, but she wasn’t working to pay the bills or further herself or anything remotely serious. She was a complete and total failure at her life. Worse—she had no plan, and when the money Cord was paying her ran out, she had no income.
What was wrong with her? How had this happened? How had she become so directionless and pathetic?
Thirty-six hours after her enlightening, albeit painful, conversation with Jase, she was still reeling from seeing herself from his perspective. While it was easy to make him the bad guy—a title he totally deserved—she couldn’t help thinking that he wasn’t wrong. She had few salable skills and no serious job, let alone a career. She was drifting, and in six years, she was going to get an ugly financial wake-up call.
She ran her hand along the top of one of the dressers. She’d been divorced four years. Four! Why hadn’t she planned for her future? Sure, she’d needed to keep the house while Austin finished high school, but what about everything else? She could have earned her degree by now, if she’d been serious about it. She could have learned a trade. Or gotten a real job.
But she hadn’t. She’d maintained her lifestyle, lunched with her friends, baked for Austin and mourned her marriage. She’d kept her country club membership up to date, had replaced a three-year-old car because hey, that was what they always did. She’d ignored the ticking clock that was her payments from Cord, and she’d wasted four years of income.
The truth was humiliating and humbling, not to mention a little scary. What was she supposed to do now? Her skills—beyond Jase’s assessment of her parenting style—included managing the company’s books, although she’d stopped doing that six years ago, and captaining a boat. Also something she’d stopped doing six years ago.
Her stomach flipped over a couple of times. She was scared, she was angry (mostly at herself), and she was determined to get her act together. Step one of any plan was to not make a rash, impulsive decision. She knew better than to react out of fear. She had limited resources and didn’t want to waste any of them. She had to know what she was doing.
She went into her small home office. At her desk, she consciously slowed her breathing before looking at the lists she’d made. She’d brainstormed options, written down the pros and cons of each.
Selling the house was her number one priority. She knew a couple of agents through her friends at the club and had already set up an appointment with the one she liked best. Their preliminary phone call had confirmed that her best chance at getting top dollar was selling in the fall, when the snowbirds returned to Naples.
Although she would love to dump the house this second, she had to make a financially smart decision. Better to wait and end up with more money.
As for her monthly expenses, she’d already canceled her membership at the club. It was a ridiculous amount to spend, just to go to lunch with her friends. Austin didn’t use the facilities, and Harlow used her dad’s membership.
She was reviewing a few other places where she could cut her spending. As for her future—she was giving herself until the house went on the market to figure out what she was going to do with the rest of her life. She would be thoughtful and practical and smart. Seeing the truth about herself hadn’t been pleasant, but she was grateful to finally have clarity.
Her phone buzzed. She glanced at it and saw yet another text from Jase.
I’m sorry. I messed up and I hurt you. Please talk to me and let me explain. I don’t want to lose you.
Talk to him? No, she couldn’t do that. She was too embarrassed and upset. What he’d said to her had been shocking. The things he thought about her had been awful. She would never marry a man for money, and he should know that.
She picked up her phone, then put it down as she reminded herself she wasn’t going to do anything impulsive. She needed to think her answer through and—
“Screw that,” she muttered and began to type.
We’re done, Jase. I can’t be with someone who’s ashamed of me.
She paused, flushing at the words. How could he think so little of her? She knew how to dress, she was comfortable in any social situation. She was well-read, well traveled, she could talk about wine.
Tears burned, but she blinked them away before adding, I also can’t be with someone who thinks so little of me. You won’t hear from me again, and I would prefer not to hear from you.
She drew in another calming breath, ignored her racing heart and pushed Send.
“Mom?”
Robyn usually enjoyed her daughter dropping by, but right now she wasn’t up to the drama. Not that she could share her feelings—they would send Harlow into full frenzy mode.
She faked a smile and walked out of her office to find Harlow in the living room.
“Mom!”
Her daughter dropped her bag on the coffee table and ran to her.
“It’s so awful,” Harlow said, flinging herself at her. “Everything is a mess, and I don’t know what to do.”
Robyn hugged her, wondering if her daughter’s crisis was real or imagined. With Harlow, it was hard to know.
“We’ll figure it out,” she said with a confidence she didn’t feel. She stepped back. “Start at the beginning.”
Harlow sank onto one of the sofas. “Dad’s dating Kip’s twin sister, Zafina. She showed up at the office, and they were obviously together. It was gross. She’s too young for him, and hello? My fiancé’s twin sister? Why would he do that to me? Plus Kip’s known all this time, and he didn’t say anything. I was so mad at him, but he said he just didn’t know how to tell me, which I guess makes sense.” Her lower lip began to tremble. “I don’t know what to do.”
Robyn sat on the opposite sofa. “That’s a lot.”
“It is. It’s too much. Why is she interested in him? He’s a dad with adult children. Plus, he cheated on Leah to go out with her.” Harlow grimaced. “My father cheated on his girlfriend. I don’t want to know that about him. It’s awful, and I don’t know what to think. Why would he tell me that? Why would he do that in the first place?”
All excellent questions, Robyn thought, horrified that Cord would be so cavalier with his own daughter. Telling her about Zafina was one thing, but admitting he’d cheated was selfish and unnecessary. There were things that no child should have to deal with, regardless of their age. His flaws were his problem, not Harlow’s.
Harlow looked at her. “Did you ever cheat on Dad?”