“No, it isn’t.” She shifts on her bottom. “I need a favor.”
“What?”
“You’re aware my brother hates Mitch, right?”
I tap my fingers on my thigh and wince. “Hates is a strong word.”
Anna tilts her head and raises her eyebrows. “Chase hates Mitch. Let’s not sugarcoat it.”
“Okay. What’s the favor?”
“There’s going to be drinking, and the last time they were in the same room, Jamison grabbed Chase’s arm mid-punch.”
“Yikes.”
She sighs. “If you see Chase in a conversation with or even walking toward Mitch, will you intercept?”
“Sure. But is it really that bad?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry. That’s a lot of stress on you.”
“At least I won’t have Chase pressuring me to move to Chicago since Mitch will be there.”
“He’s pressuring you, too? Jamie and Quinn just tried to get me to move with them.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you going to relocate?”
“No. But I’m going to have to start visiting more so I can see Hope.”
“She is adorable.”
“Yeah. And she loves me. I’m her favorite aunt.”
“Better not let your sisters hear you claim that.”
“Let them. It’s the truth.”
Anna rises. “It’s late, and we have an early morning. I better get home and get packed.”
“I thought you were packed.”
“I meant Mitch’s bag.”
I cross my arms. “How old is he?”
“I’m only being nice.”
I put my arms on her shoulders. “Stop trying so hard.”
“I’m not. He’s really busy with work, and if I pack for him, it’s one less thing on his plate.”
Silence.
“I like to take care of my man. It makes me feel worthy.”
“Did you just say worthy?”
Her face reddens.
“Mitch is the one who should be doing things to make himself worthy of you. Not the other way around.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Anna, since when are you not good enough for a man?”
“Forget I said anything. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Anna—”
She forces a smile. “We’re good. I’ll see you bright and early.”
Why is she with that loser?
Keep your two cents to yourself. You aren’t exactly batting it out of the park in the relationship game.
I put my bags by the door, set my alarm, and try to sleep. But all I can think about is how Hope is moving, and I’m going to be halfway across the country. Then my mind wanders into the place a divorcée with no kids, job, or property—minus two suitcases full of clothes—should ever go.
It’s not like your family didn’t offer multiple times to bankroll you.
Not doing that. You made your bed. You can sleep in it.
I didn’t know how big of a douchebag he was before I married him.
But a part of you did know he was one. You still chose to stay with him.
Ian Flemming was good on paper. He was the type of guy every mother pushed her daughter into dating—including mine. He had a good job, knew all the right things to say. And was a cheating, lying bastard.
And when I confronted him about screwing the girl from Hooters, he went right to the bank and emptied the accounts. And a month later, I got divorce papers delivered to me at work.
After I realized what he had done, I was too ashamed to admit to anyone what happened and how stupid I was. It wasn’t the first woman he violated our vows with. Once the truth was on the table, I went on a digging spree and discovered Ian was a downright whore for our entire ten-year marriage.
I signed the divorce papers without a fight, wanting nothing created during our time together, which was stupid on my part, but I realized it too late. At the time, I just wanted out.
The only thing he didn’t attempt to take was my retirement account, so I’ve been living off it and paying the taxes and penalties for the early withdrawals.
Since I had nothing to show for my entire adult life of work, I decided to be a vagabond and backpack around Europe for a few years. I thought it would help me find my purpose in life, which I seemed to have lost.
It didn’t.
Just another reason you’re a loser.
And I’m about to run out of money.
I need a job.
It’s not that I don’t want to work. But I spent my life working to make money in a job that didn’t excite me. And it didn’t get me anywhere, so what is the point of going down that route again?
When my alarm rings, I jump in the shower and quickly get ready. I try to hire an Uber, but my account is too low, and I groan.
I forgot to transfer more money over, and it takes five business days.
I call Quinn.
“Hey, girl. Tell me you aren’t backing out and going to miss my wedding?”
“No. Hey, can you swing by and pick me up?”
“We’ll be late and miss the flight time. I told you to move on this side of town,” Jamison calls out.
I ignore his comment.
It’s too far to walk.
The bus and subway don’t go there.
“Harper, take a cab.”
This is so embarrassing.
“I ran into a problem with my bank account. Can you order me one?”
“Sure. Why didn’t you just say? I’ll give you cash when you get to the airport.”
Your little brother has to give you money.
Ugh. This is a new low.
“Thanks. I’ll be fine. If you can just order an Uber, please.”
“On it. See you soon.”
I hang up and go into my closet. I pull out the safe and open it up.
The last remaining items I have of value gleam up at me. They are the only two things left in the box.
My heart drops, which I didn’t expect. After all, I am over him.
I pick up my wedding rings and zip them in my purse pocket.
As soon as I get to Chicago, I need to find a pawnshop.
The Uber beeps, and I run out the door. I’m the last one to get on the plane, and the door shuts almost immediately behind me.
“Sorry I’m late.”
Jamison’s eyes drill into mine. “You okay?”
I blow his concern off. “I’m great. So what are we talking about?” I turn to the seat behind me and say to my mom, “I get Hope next.”
“Nope, I’m keeping her the entire flight.”
“Fat chance.”
Quinn throws her phone in my face. “My brother just made Marquis’s Top Ten Under Forty Professionals.”
“Wow. That’s amazing. You don’t even look related.”
Quinn flicks her fingers on the phone and scrolls quickly through pictures. “That’s my brother.”
My heart stops, and it’s a good thing I’m sitting because my knees go weak. He has thick, strawberry-blond hair and blue eyes you can get lost in. His picture is serious, and he’s not smiling. He’s a man in charge and control and someone you’d trust to get the job done.
Steven Sinclair, VP of Finance, HKCG Insurance, 35, the caption under his picture reads.