Page 44 of Marriage is a Shore Thing
“I should be ticked that he meddled with my things, but I’m just so relieved it’s here,” she says with a light chuckle. “Here you go, Van.”
I let go of Joanna’s shoulder and take the box, struggling to keep my emotions from playing on my face. Holding this weathered ring box—something that’s been cherished for generations—my stomach bottoms out.
Suddenly, our fake marriage feels more cruel than kind.
To Joanna. To Geneva. To me.
My skin flushes hot, and I’m absolutely certain my ears are the color of beets. A rough swallow squeezes down my tight throat as I realize I don’t want to give this to Geneva if it’s not real. I can’t take Joanna’s family heirloom and pretend it means nothing. My lips part as I lift my gaze, but the ring box slips from my shaking hands, falling open on the carpet.
The three of us stare at the paper that tumbles out of the otherwise empty box.
Joanna stoops to pick it up, reading, “Good luck getting this back.”
Geneva snatches the paper, scanning it quickly before crushing it in her palm. “That narcissistic, scheming piece of—” She cuts herself off. “I’ll be back.”
Her heels make three distinct clicks through the adjacent bathroom before I throw a forearm around her waist, lift her off the floor, and bring her back to where Joanna is hovering in the doorway to the closet. I know I’m risking bodily harm by manhandling Geneva, but I don’t end up with an elbow to the jaw or a heel to the groin.
“Let’s think about this for a minute before we storm off to do physical damage,” I say into her hair, not releasing her quite yet.
A few seconds tick by before she nods. Only then do I let go and give her space.
Joanna’s lips move as she silently reads the note, a tear falling and blotting the ink. “I was just so happy to be done. He dragged out the divorce for years. You remember.” Her chin lifts to catch Geneva’s gaze. “It was awful. Why would he want to take this?”
“I’m going to get it back,” Geneva tells her, her hand settling over Joanna’s shoulder. “Don’t worry.”
“He’ll pretend he doesn’t have it. Even if we bring this to him”—she lifts the crumpled note—“he’ll claim he doesn’t know what we’re talking about. Going through the legal process to get this back will take forever.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s yours. He can’t take what isn’t his.” Geneva’s hands fist. “And if he doesn’t listen, there are other ways to get it back.”
“Okay.” I clap to get their attention. “As fun as seeing my new wife through a visitation window after getting arrested for assault sounds, I’ve got a better idea.”
Gorgeous, defiant, skeptical Geneva crosses her arms, but there’s no stopping my growing grin.
“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
I glance between the two women, hesitating a breath. “We’ll steal it back.”
eighteen
Geneva
“Iknew that fever fried your brain,” I say, staring at Van in disbelief. “Shouldn’t you be concerned about protecting your most valuable asset?”
Van’s grin turns suddenly wicked, but I continue before he can speak.
“Notthat, you…”—a more biting insult is at the ready, but since Joanna is here, I settle on—“numbskull. Your medical license. If you get caught breaking and entering, you’ll end up in jail just the same. Except, my assault charges won’t hurt my career, but yours will.”
“Not sure you should insult your husband by calling him a numbskull,” Joanna says out of the corner of her mouth.
“Oh, don’t worry.” Van sends that dimpled smile her way before his flirty gaze crashes with mine. “I’m into it.”
Electricity gathers at the base of my spine and runs backward until it’s stinging my scalp. Joanna’s bathroom is markedly larger than the small closet we spent the last half hour in, but the walls feel like they’re simultaneously closing in and steaming as if the shower was left running.
Resisting the urge to fan my face, I say, “This is an insane idea, and we’re not humoring it.”
Silence hovers for a moment as Joanna’s gaze grows distant, pensive.
“Joanna,” I say, warning in my voice. “We’re not doing this. Henry probably has cameras over every inch of the property. Plus, we don’t even know where the ring is. We’d get caught searching for it—that is, if we even get in.”
