Page 38 of Rebound

“While you’re here, I need you to sign some papers.” Drake grabs a file from his desk drawer. “If you’re still sure, that is?”

His lovely brown eyes meet mine, and I see a glimmer of hope there. He loves his brother and is fond of me, and he would like for us to give it another shot. He’s the only other person who knows about that night in Verona’s room. The things she said to me, and the damage it caused. He doesn’t understand, though, quite how bad things have been the past few years.

I thought they’d gotten better since Elijah moved out, but it seems old habits die hard. Today, for example, and how quickly I became my old self again, including the way I dressed, the makeup, the styled hair. Yes, I’m going out for drinks, and yes, I can look however I damn well please—but going into Jamestech, knowing I’d see Mason, felt like marching into enemy territory. I needed that suit of armor again. It didn’t take long for us all to descend into back-biting and sniping, either. I felt so isolated, so attacked. The same way I have felt for years.

But I gave as good as I got and didn’t let any of them, including Elijah, see how much it hurt. In all our years together, I never asked him for backup or showed any weakness—because I am Amber James, Ice Queen Super Bitch. Hard as nails.

Except I’m not, deep down. And just once, I would have loved to hear Elijah tell them to go screw themselves. But I’ve spent way too much emotional energy on this subject, and I don’t want my life to look like that anymore. I don’t want every day to be full of petty squabbles and point scoring. Sad as it is, my marriage is over.

“I’m still sure, darling,” I answer Drake. “Just tell me where to sign.”

We handle the paperwork while Amelia uses the bathroom in Drake’s office to freshen up. “Can we go somewhere different for drinks?” I ask. “The usual Manhattan fishbowl won’t be ideal for me at the moment.”

“Trouble?” Drake cocks an eyebrow.

“Nothing serious. Just a lot of interest after the statement was released. Some overzealous paparazzi. And goodness, a million divorce lawyers offering their services—I was not prepared for that.”

He laughs. “Yeah, I should have warned you. Sharks sensing blood in the water. And while we’re on that subject, I need to say something. The way we’re going about this is unorthodox. I’m one hundred percent committed to making the process as fair and painless as it can be for both of you, but this isn’t the way a divorce normally works. I’d go so far as to advise you to sign up with someone else, or at least find someone willing to oversee the final settlement on your behalf. Just to make sure that my conflict of interest isn’t detrimental to you in any way.”

“But we’ve already agreed on everything and signed what we need to sign, haven’t we?”

“Yes, but nothing is irrevocable yet—you could still get external counsel. You probably should.”

I have, of course, been told this by several people. My parents were horrified when I told them Drake was representing us both, and even Granny Lucille lodged a protest. I’m aware that the traditional approach to the legal ending of a marriage is like a battlefield. Wife on one side with her troops, husband on the other with his. They either go full berserker and fight to the death, or they meet in the middle and hack away at each other until they sign a peace treaty. I don’t want any of that. I’ve had enough conflict with Elijah and his family to last me a lifetime, and I just want this over with as amicably as possible.

“Drake, it’s fine,” I say. “I appreciate you bringing it up, and I know it’s not conventional. But what can I say? I trust you, and I trust Elijah. Whatever has happened between us, I believe in his basic human decency. He won’t be looking to screw me over, and there’s no way on earth that I’ll be looking to do that to him either. I can’t imagine Nathan is thrilled with the arrangement though.”

“You got that right,” Drake says, shaking his head. It must be causing problems between them too, and I regret that. But there’s also nothing I can do about it. “He’s worried about Jamestech.”

I frown and turn that idea over in my mind. It didn’t occur to me that I might have a claim to any part of the James family business. Perhaps that is naive of me. Given that we have no prenup, it would be fair game—but I don’t want it. The James family has enough independent wealth for this to all be settled without having to take a penny from the company. “I see. And Dalton—is your father concerned about that too”

I never felt the same emotional connection to Dalton as I did to Verona. But his health hasn’t been great, and I’m eager to avoid adding anything stressful to his life. He’s no longer a young man, and he has a heart condition. We don’t need to have a soul connection for me to not want to be the cause of any further health complications.

Drake nods. “He is. You know what he’s like. Jamestech is part of him.”

“The great James family legacy. Look, this potentially risks blowing my hard-earned reputation, but could you please do your best to put his mind at rest? I’m happy for you to let Nathan suffer, obviously, but not your father. Please reassure him that I want nothing whatsoever to do with Jamestech. I haven’t asked for that, and I’m not going to. Frankly, I can’t think of anything worse than being tied to that company for the rest of my life. I know they all think I’m evil personified, and that will probably never change, but I don’t want your dad’s blood pressure going up because he’s worried about me stealing his precious business. If you’d like, if you think it would help, I’ll sign something to that effect right here and now.”

Amelia has come out of the bathroom, and she looks between us but stays silent. This must be strange for her. She’s settled into the James clan so naturally, and all she must see is their kindness, their generosity and warmth. I hope that’s all she ever sees. But there is another side to them. People don’t get to be billionaires without a ruthless streak.

“No, there’s no need for that. Not today,” Drake says firmly. “But I will tell him, and I think he’ll believe it. He doesn’t see you as quite the ogre you think he does, Amber.”

“Damn. I must try harder. Anyway, enough.” I shimmy my shoulders and shake out my arms. “I need wine, and I need it now.”

“Shall I call Constantine?” Amelia offers. “I was thinking we could take Amber to my old neighborhood.”

“Good idea.” Drake flashes his wife a charming smile. “I’m pretty sure nobody there will recognize her or care who she is.”

“Are you sure?” I ask when we’re in the elevator. “I could always go in disguise. I have a fake nose and an Elvis wig in my purse.”

“I’m positive, but you could wear them anyway, just for fun?” Amelia says.

We clamber into the limo, and I say hi to Constantine before he drives us over the bridge and into Brooklyn.

We head to a small Italian place, and I smile as I watch Amelia chat excitedly to the owner. “Does she know everybody in this neighborhood?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Drake answers, looking at her fondly. “At least her little corner of it. She grew up here, still has an apartment here. We’ve moved into the Tribeca loft as you know, but her lease isn’t up for a few months. She also has her mom’s house, which she’s almost cleared now and plans to eventually fix up so she can rent it out. That will be the start of her property empire. She’ll be running the world soon.”

He sounds so proud, and I can practically see the connection between them. It’s like an invisible string, binding them together. Her hazel eyes are bright and lively as she walks back to us, waving to a few other people.

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