Ladies' Night by Andrews, Kay (find a book to read TXT) 📗

her. No matter what, in a weird way, you’re still her idol. You heard her. As far as she knew, this was just a prank that got out of hand.”

“I’m her idol? That’s a laugh.”

“It’s true,” Ben insisted. “She reads every word you write, goes back over your old posts, trying to copy your style. I keep trying to tell her, she’s got her own style, which she should develop, but for some reason she’s fixated on you, on being bigger, better than you. I guess maybe I should have seen the potential for what happened, should have reined her in before it came to this.”

“Ya think?” Grace shot back.

“I’m asking you, please. Don’t make a federal case out of this. I’ll have a serious talk with J’Aimee. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right. I’ll pay for all the damages, reimburse you for your lost time. I’ll fix it. I promise.”

“You’ll fix it,” Grace said, laughing bitterly. “There’s that expression of yours again. You just love the idea of covering things up, of pretending they never happened, don’t you, Ben?”

“I’m a pragmatist. A businessman,” he said calmly. “So, do we have a deal?”

She crossed her arms and gave him a long, hard look. “It’s not up to me. It’s Arthur’s house. I’ll tell him about your offer.”

“And you’ll suggest we settle this without the police getting involved?” he persisted.

Grace saw an opening, and she went for it. “I’ll suggest he accept your offer. On one condition.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “Here it comes. The blackmail.”

“You can call it whatever you like,” Grace said. “Here’s the deal. You tell your lawyer that you want to settle things fairly with me. I’m not looking to gouge you, Ben. But it’s totally unfair that I should have to walk away from this marriage with not a dime to my name. We built a business together, and by rights half of the proceeds from it should be mine. That’s what I want. No more, no less.”

“And if I don’t give you what you want?”

Grace held the garbage bag aloft. “There’s always this. And remember, Camryn was standing right here when J’Aimee confessed. I wouldn’t put it past her to have recorded the whole thing. You know how sneaky these journalism types are.”

60

By the time Grace emerged from the house, Marissa and Camryn were waiting for her in the golf cart. Camryn held the pillowcase with the wedding silver in her lap. Grace placed the duffel bag with her books and camera equipment on the floor of the backseat and climbed onto the seat, tightly clutching the black garbage bag.

“Let’s go,” Grace said, glancing back toward the house, half expecting J’Aimee to follow in hot pursuit.

Marissa steered the cart down the driveway and around the corner toward her own house.

Camryn turned around in her seat, one eyebrow raised in question. “So?”

“Mission accomplished,” Grace said. “I got what I came for. And more.” Marissa turned around, too, and the three women high-fived each other.

“I’m afraid I blew it, though,” Marissa said apologetically. “I just went in the house for a minute. They must have slipped right past me. But I hear you got the goods on that little bitch.”

“We’ll see,” Grace said. “The big thing is, we managed to rattle Ben. He’s really worried I might go to the cops.”

“How worried?” Camryn asked.

“Worried enough that he agreed to talk financial settlement.”

“That’s great,” Camryn said. “You must have done some major cage rattling after I hightailed it out of there.”

“I might have mentioned that you were probably secretly taping J’Aimee’s confession,” Grace admitted.

Camryn smirked, then pulled her iPhone from her pocket, held it up, and tapped an icon. J’Aimee’s high-pitched voice floated in the air. “It was a joke,” she screeched. Camryn tapped the button and the phone went silent.

“Never underestimate a woman,” she advised. “Especially one who’s been jerked around the way you and I have.”

The two high-fived each other one more time.

*   *   *

“Where’s my father?”

Wyatt stood staring down at Callie, still half asleep on the sofa.

She stretched and yawned. “What?”

“Dad. He’s not here. Where’d he go?”

Callie sat up slowly. “How should I know?”

“Did he see you here this morning?” Wyatt demanded. “Come on, Callie. This is important. Did he say anything?”

“No. Well, yeah. I mean, he came out of his room, and I heard him banging pots and pans around in the kitchen, making coffee. I went out and asked him if I could have a cup, and he just stared at me. He put the coffeepot down and walked out the door. God! I’m telling you, there is something wrong with that old man. And I’m not talking about diabetes, Wyatt. He’s seriously senile.”

“Shit,” Wyatt said softly. “He’s not senile! He can’t stand the sight of you, if you want to know the truth. He probably saw you here, dressed in my robe, and got the wrong idea. Which way did he go, did you see?”

“You know how I am before I get my coffee in the morning. He left. That’s all I know.”

“Hey, Mom.”

Callie and Wyatt turned to see their young son, standing in the doorway to the living room, dressed in his Lightning McQueen pajama bottoms.

“Good morning, Bo-Bo,” Callie said, her pout turning instantly to a sunny smile. “Come give your mama some sugar.”

Bo allowed himself to be cuddled, but only for a moment. Pulling away, he looked at his father’s troubled countenance.

“Is Granddad missing again?”

“Not really missing,” Wyatt said hastily. “He went out for a walk early this morning, and I’m a little worried, because I don’t know whether he remembered to eat some breakfast or take his medicine. I’m going to hop on the cart and take a spin around the park to pick him up. You want to help me track him?”

“Sure!” Bo looked hesitantly at his mother. “I’ll be right back, Mom, okay?”

“Take all the time you need,” Callie said, yawning again. “I’ll be around when you get back.”

*   *   *

Grace tried calling Wyatt from the