Page 120 of Ella Gets the D
She nods and reaches for me. “You’re almost there.”
“Twenty-five more days to freedom,” I say. Uncontested divorces in Virginia are quicker without the back-and-forth and court hearings. They only take weeks to process and review before a judge signs the final divorce order.
May 6 needs to get here soon.
“No fucking way.”
The air shifts, and my skin prickles at Charles walking through the door. His father flanks his side with the same jade-green eyes scanning the room. Charles Sr. is a vintage version of his son. Same square jaw and straight brows to furrow at people beneath their social status, same small lips to twist at threats. They’re all set on me once he registers I’m here. He leans over to whisper inCharles’s ear and sharpens his disdain on me with a scowl that has to earn a new world record.
I fill my wineglass from one of the bottles at the table. If they’re here, it will be a long night.
By my second glass, Charles is invading my space.
“Ella.” Bitterness spills over his vowels.
I take in the hovering figure, who’s wearing a tailored black suit to match his soul. “Charles. Now that we got that out the way”—I nod to his empty table—“feel free to take your seat and ignore me for the rest of the evening.”
Erica slides closer to speak behind the smile she’s wearing to keep from glowering at my ex. “Do you need me to get security?”
I turn to her dangling diamond earrings. “No,” I whisper. “Thank you, but Mt. Corbel Health recruits from this university, and you don’t need to jeopardize your tenure track.”
She pats my slacks and drops her head to mimic my tone. “I was talking about the stun gun in my purse. Say the word, and Silkk the Shocker willzzt zzthis ass in a dark hallway.”
I slam my eyes shut and clench my lips. Every muscle tenses trying not to howl at this fancy dinner. Erica slaps my leg and stomps her foot to keep from falling out her chair. “It ain’t my fault!” I grip my napkin and cover my face after a snort escapes.
Charles clears his throat to break up our stand-up routine, reaches for my glass, and takes a sip. “Your little friend is quite the local celebrity.” That gets my attention. “The question is, are you ready for your close-up, Ella?”
I’m on my feet. At six three, Charles is eye level, courtesy of these heels that will find a home in his ass before Erica gets to Silkk the Shocker. My eyes narrow at how low he’d stoop he all but confirms with a smug grin.
“You’re the one behind all of this. The blog, the pictures of Julian and his ex. The ones sent to my house, where yourchildrenlive.” I shake my head at the man I once vowed to love until death. “Why?”
It’s a dumb question because I already know the answer. Adultery rumors don’t have to be true to do damage. What judge would look at those photos and not assume we penetrated the no-penetration rule—whether we waited or not?
“Friday nights out. Galas. Sleepovers.” He grinds the last word between his teeth. “Quite the busy woman since you broke up our family.”
“Excuse—”
“Don’t forget the grocery store. I have a new appreciation for fresh mozzarella.”
A bitter tang burns my throat at the familiar voice creeping into our conversation. Ice-blue eyes crinkle at the corners, pulling thin lips into a smile. When did he get here?Whyis he here?
“Asher.”
“Told you I’d see you again. Where are my manners?” He shakes himself out of a thought. “This one got the private schools.” His hand extends. “Asher Campbell. Charles’s brother.”
Katharine only had one child, which means Asher is the son of a mistress. Charles Sr.’s frequent trips to Florida now makes sense, but a whole second family? How many more are there? On second thought, I don’t want to know.
The voice inside warns me to run as fast as Asher creeped up, but where would I go? Charles knows where I live, and he has a brother tailing me around town. No wonder we kept running into each other. “You’ve beenfollowingme?”
Another dumb question with an obvious answer.
Pleasure melts into the sharp jaw he shares with his brother. The two of them side-by-side, the straight brows and sharp eyes that match their father’s are more prominent.
Asher tilts his head in a nod. “You and Julian were very careful. I tried to catch you both at his office, but that old man was fast.” His chuckle is dark. “Those overnights at his apartment? Dead giveaway to anyone paying attention. I have to give it to you, El—can I call you that? He’s a bold choice after this one.”
Fear blends into outrage and shifts into a hostile glare at this family reunion. “I don’t give a damn if you have photos of me tap-dancing naked in my kitchen. You have no right. This divorceishappening. The time to come to terms with it was last year”—I point to Charles—“when I caughtyoucheating.”
Asher folds his arms over his black suit and smiles. He wags a finger at me and looks to Charles. “I like her. It’s a shame things didn’t work.” His hand runs over his Patrick Dempsey scruff. “But that could be a good thing since Charles here never wanted to share you.”
