Page 9 of Just My Ex

The resort is a study in contrasts: somehow both large and cozy, modern and Swiss mountain chalet, intimidating and like home. Crowned with pronounced eaves and weighty crossbeams, it’s got a natural, yet sophisticated, knotty alder vibe. It has several levels, but since the stories sprawl across the face of the mountain, notched in it, it somehow looks like it grew naturally from out of the mountain over time.

Navie giggles as she reaches up with both hands to try to open the heavy, whiskey oak door. She even hangs on the handle with her whole-body weight. At some point during the trip, an elastic from one of her pigtails began to slip free, so now she’s got one intact pigtail on one side of her head and the other side is like a party is going on: thin and wild, staticky.

I let go of our luggage and swallow the lump in my throat before tightening her pigtail and helping her open the door. “Tate Place” is what she calls the resort. And her uncles have set things up so that she’s got everything she needs. They spoil her rotten, which I suppose is okay. It’s not like she gets to spend much time with her father, so this might be the next-best thing.

Sebastian’s at the front desk, not his usual place to be, so he’s probably been waiting for me. I set our luggage down and try to gather it closer to the front desk.

“We really should have had a family member pick you up,” he says without saying hello, his eyes filled with his typical, oldest-brother-of-a-large family tension.

“The rideshare was fine. We’re good.”

Navie jumps into his arms and his smile is wide as he lifts her up and blows a raspberry on her cheek. “Hey, munchkin. Glad you’re back.”

She squeals and pats the top of his head. “Gladyou’reback.”

They both laugh, and I realize with a start that Navie’s laugh sounds exactly like Henry’s.

Navie’s laugh sounds exactly like Henry’s.

How come I never noticed this before?

Probably because he was a distant, sour grump in those last couple of years we were together. There wasn’t a whole heck of a lot of laughter happening.

Navie wriggles out of Sebastian’s arms and skips along the marble floors.

He reaches his hand out to shake mine, which would be weird and way too formal for someone who’s my former brother-in-law. But because it’s President Business Sebastian Tate, it works. Besides, he brings his other hand up to my shoulder and gives it a quick, brotherly squeeze, which softens things.

He glances behind me … maybe Henry’s penchant for security and all things suspicious runs in the family … before offering a tight smile.

“Are you okay? Any incidents with the flight, or any suspicious …” He trails off.

Suspicious what? Suspicious uncles who are harassing us?

Yesterday morning when I went back outside after my fruitless running after Raymond, I found small rocks just off the patio, all about the same size and shape, being formed into the words “Do the Right T …” I guess I chased him off before he had a chance to finish. I can only imagine it was supposed to read, “Do the Right Thing,” meaning hand over the money that he feels is rightfully his.

The rocks were lying on top of red-stained grass. At first it looked like blood splatters, but I could smell the paint.

Thanks a lot, Creepy Pants Raymond.

So yeah. That’s why I’m here.

I lift a palm. “Nothing suspicious on the trip.” I offer a cheery smile and glance at Navie. Even though she’s skipped her way across the room and is looking out the large windows overlooking the lake in the back, I hope Sebastian understands that we can’t talk about this right now.

“And work? How is that going?” he asks.

I haven’t managed to quell the sick pit in my stomach since this morning, when I spent over an hour in my boss’s office, trying to take leave from work.

Lots of words. References to my inability to have accrued enough years on the job to qualify for any type of significant leave. Sympathy but very much a “my hands are tied” vibe.

“I actually quit this morning.” I shrug, smoothing down the back of my hair. “There wasn’t really any other way.”

At Sebastian’s look of surprise, I try to explain. “Yeah, not what I wanted or had planned to do, but it’s not like they could just wait around for me to be able to go back. I haven’t worked there long enough for any sort of special concessions. I will miss my students and I do feel bad about leaving the university this close to the end of the semester.” Then I give a resolute nod. “It’s okay. My workload is being divided up amongst the others. And I feel like it was my only option. They said I can reapply in the fall if there’s an opening.”

I don’t mention the money, but I can’t help but think, with the probate period ending and the inheritance money coming in a few weeks, that I’ll be okay. It will buy me plenty of time to find something new.

“I’m sorry it came to that,” Sebastian offers kindly. I lean my arm against the counter and smile and wave across from me at Trevor, the manager in charge of all front-desk related things. Then I turn back to Sebastian. “How was the wedding? My goodness, Oliver and Sophie have been married for a few weeks now!”

They sent me an invitation, and I appreciated the gesture. She’s lovely—they’re two peas in a pod. But I figured Henry would be there, which made my decision easy.

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