Page 3 of Love in Bloom

“Not that spending time with Emily was a hardship,” Parker clarified, when Wren gave him a disgusted look. “I enjoyed our day together. She’s a great person, but not meant for my to-death-do-us-part.”

“Same here. She can’t take a fish off a hook or pee outdoors.” Croix shook his head in disbelief.

“I don’t think many women have that skill set,” Rica pointed out.

“Krista does,” Croix bragged.

“Hard to believe I’m still single, isn’t it?” Krista asked no one in particular.

“Anyway,” Parker interjected, “I’m betting our boy finally came to his senses and told Emily how he feels.”

“Which is?” Rica sounded impatient and Wren didn’t blame her. This story was taking way too long.

“That he loves her.”

“Then the next question is, what’s Emily going to say?” Miller looked at the three women.

They breathed a collective sigh of relief. It looked like Emily and Jackson would get their happily-ever-after, after all.

Wren toyed with her wine glass, processing it all. She was happy for Emily, but she wondered how long the happiness would last. Over forty percent of marriages ended in divorce. Maybe since her marriage was one of them, Emily would be with the other sixty percent. She wanted the best for her friend, but she of all people knew that sometimes the best turned into the worst. Rica and Krista wore hopeful, dreamy looks on their faces, and Wren even saw Krista dab the corner of her eye with a napkin.

“Aw, man, I hate wearing a tux and those shoes hurt,” Croix complained when he finally heard what wasn’t being said.

“Before we start celebrating, I’ll see if I can get a hold of Jackson.” Miller stood and Wren couldn’t stop herself from watching him walk toward the back where it would be quieter.

Wren felt a mixture of relief and loss after he left, and she didn’t like it. Not one little bit. She didn’t realize she’d been relaxing on him until he’d moved. He’d served as her own personal recliner.

Miller Lynch was a dangerous man. Not in a criminal way, but in a he-has-the-potential-to-steal-everything-she’s-worked-so-hard-for way.

Wren didn’t know him that well. She’d made it a practice to avoid him as much as possible. But she knew the type. Heck, she’d married the type. Intelligent, attractive, successful, crazy ambitious. In their group of friends, everyone knew Miller had one goal: to make partner by the age of thirty-one. She’d already helped one man make that goal and she’d lost herself in the process. No. No way. She’d worked too hard and come too far to lose herself again. She wasn’t going down that road again, no matter how tempting it may be.

Wren played with the ring on her middle right finger trying to decide what to do. If she stayed, she’d be forced to spend more time with Miller, but if she left, she wouldn’t find out about Emily, and she’d be going home to an empty, lonely apartment. Lonely, but safe. She politely covered a yawn with her left hand.That does it,Wren decided. Let’s go while the going’s good.She drained the last of her Riesling, told Rica and Krista to text her with an update, said her goodbyes to the men, and skedaddled before Trouble returned.

September

“Iknewhewashaving an affair!” Mrs. Nelson tossed the manila envelope at Miller. “And here are the pictures to prove it.” She sat down in the chair across from Miller’s desk and smiled triumphantly as she leaned back into it.Ring’s gone. Looks like a reconciliation is off the table.He didn’t blame her if the pictures showed what she said they did.

Miller tried not to cringe as he released the clasp at the back. He hated this part of the job. He hated to see the infidelity, the bad decisions that damaged lives, and he really hated to look at the photos with the injured party sitting across from him.

Sure enough, the photos showed Mr. Nelson getting out of his car, walking into the house, and being greeted by a young busty blond wearing a little bit of lace. The photos showed that the scraps of lace didn’t last long. As Miller flipped through the photos he marveled at the stupidity of people. Of men. “Looks like they were too busy to close the curtains. That will work in your favor.”

“Ironically, these may be the only photos in existence that show my husband smiling,” Mrs. Nelson said.

“I’m sorry.” Miller shoved the photos back in the envelope and set it aside.

“Don’t be. He did this to himself, to us.” She took a deep breath. “What happens next?”

“Well, normally this wouldn’t impact the settlement, but I’ve reviewed your prenup and there is a stipulation on infidelity. These photos are your bargaining chip. What would you like?”

“Everything,” Mrs. Nelson purred.

“I can’t promise you everything, but I’ll do what I can to get you close to everything,” Miller reassured her. “As I mentioned at our last meeting, it would help if we had an idea how long this affair has been going on and if we had another source of evidence.”

“I know he’s sent her flowers. I found the charge on the credit card statement, but he dismissed it as a business expense.” Mrs. Nelson rummaged through her large Prada handbag to find the credit card statement. She handed it to Miller. He saw the charge from Wallflowers highlighted amongst the grocery and gas station purchases.

“If you find anything else, let me know. In the meantime, I’ll follow up on this charge, see if there are any others, and let your husband’s attorney know what we’ve found.”

“Thank you, Mr. Lynch. So far, you have lived up to your reputation.”

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