Page 139 of Embracing the Change

“Charlene said you were attacked,” she accused, like I did it to myself.

I waved my hand in front of me. “It wasn’t an attack. More a confrontation that got a little physical.”

“Miss Nora!” she cried in distress. “We need to phone the police immediately.”

“It was Dru’s biological father, Alyona.”

Her eyes went huge.

“So first, I need to talk to Jamie,” I decreed. “He’ll be home in less than two hours. I can talk to him then.”

She looked dubious. “I think maybe you should call Mister Jamie now.”

“I think now I need to get my shoes off and my head together so I can help Jamie decide what to do about this.”

And whatever “this” was, was something we did not need when Jamie was trying to figure out what to do about the Roland/Paloma/AJ situation.

Fortunately, he had an ace investigator named Kateri True Arrow who had already uncovered Roland’s possible partners in the scheme to refinance the Oakley Texas ranch, and Jamie was hard at work scheduling meetings with them.

But we didn’t need another headache.

I was beginning to think I should call Chloe to ask after the company she hired that yacht from and whisk Jamie away myself.

Alyona shook her head like I was making a big mistake then she asked, “Do you want me to help with your shoes?”

“No. I can manage. I’m going to go change. Jamie and I are in for the night. I can get comfortable.”

Alyona continued to look reproving as I got up and went to my closet.

I switched my slacks, blouse and heels with a Brunello Cucinelli cotton-silk, zip-up felpa and matching pull-on pants (not exactly a tracksuit, I told myself as I donned it). Even if I normally would put on slippers, I left my feet bare.

After that, I went to the bathroom, cleaned my face of Lynch’s spittle and moisturized.

While seated at the vanity, applying powder and mascara to get me through the evening, abruptly, I felt an uncontrollable rage boil inside me. A delayed reaction to being manhandled by a wife beater and deadbeat father.

Unable (unwilling?) to get a lock on it, I went to my purse, pulled out my phone, and did the only thing I had the power to do in that moment.

I called my children’s father.

“I think we’ve said all we intend to say to each other,” Roland said by way of greeting.

“I do believe you’ve lost Nico forever,” I retorted. “But I don’t know. He’s a good man. And men need their fathers. And because life is life, eventually he will need you. Now, in those times, he can turn to Jamie, or you can get your fucking shit together and behave like a decent human being in an effort at making it easier in future to mend this rift with your son.”

I was a little miffed at myself I’d lost it a bit in the midst of delivering that, but only a little.

“Nora—”

“Valentina wasn’t a lost cause, and please make note of the past tense, Roland. She wasn’t. Until your antics that Sunday. You’re holding on to her by a thread. And by the way, the one you thought you’d never lose, the hold you have on her is unraveling too. In short, whatever nonsense you’re up to, stop it. Before it’s too late.”

“I was your first love,” he spat.

“You still are,” I pointed out. “It’s just that I don’t love you anymore.”

“What we had…the passion, the fire?—”

Oh my God!

Men!

---