Page 90 of The Best Part of Breaking Up

“How did he take it?”

“He was heartbroken, but he understood. He even helped me pay my first semester’s tuition,” she says. “We filed no contest and went our separate ways. But I’d like to think we remained friends.”

“Did you ever know Teddy to have a temper?”

She laughs. “Have you met Teddy? No. Teddy is the sweetest man I’ve ever known. He’d give anyone the shirt off his back if they needed it, even if he didn’t have another. He loved helping people – helping them make great records, sure, but it went beyond that.

“When we were married, I once woke up to this random kid sleeping on our couch because Teddy found out he didn’t have anywhere to stay. He let him do odd jobs around the studio for a week before he sent him on his way with a little extra cash.

“Look, I don’t know exactly what happened with him and Gigi, but I’m glad he’s getting away from her. Nobody deserves that kind of abuse, least of all him.”

Quentin and I share a confused glance.

“Abuse?” I prompt.

“He would never call it that,” she says. “But Gigi was ruthlessly manipulative. She threatened to leave him often, if he didn’t do what she said. She knew which things he cared about, and she used them against him to get what she wanted.”

“How do you know this?”

“She told me, once. Teddy and I were supposed to have dinner the last time I was in town. I encouraged him to invite Gigi. He told me she’d never agree, said she felt threatened by me – the ex wife, hot shot professor, whatever. I laughed because I thought he had to be kidding. I’m remarried myself. I’ve got two kids. When I reached out to personally invite her, she was vicious. Told me she would burn down his studio and kill his cat if he ever contacted me again.”

Quentin and I exchange a look.

“I didn’t hear from him after that, and my number was blocked when I tried to reach out. My degrees aren’t in psychology, but I’ve read enough true crime to recognize sociopathic tendencies when I see them. Eventually I called Zel and asked her to beg him to get help, to leave her, that whatever was going on there wasn’t love.”

“What did Zelda say?”

“I doubt she ever gave him the message. She said I was preaching to the choir.”

I swallow hard. Quentin drags a hand down his face, covering his mouth.

“Kimberly, I know this is a long shot, but is there any way you’d be willing to testify about this conversation in court?”

“Yeah, of course. If you think it would help.”

“Could you make it by… Monday?” I hold my breath.

“Monday,” she laughs. “This Monday? Are you serious?”

“I know it’s a huge ask. But it might be our only chance.”

There’s another long pause on the line. I watch low tide gently sweep along the shore before pulling back out.

“I’ll see if I can get a flight in tomorrow,” she says. “If I can’t...”

“If you can’t, you can’t. If you can, let us know. We’ll book your hotel,” I tell her. “Thanks for taking our call, either way.”

When the call ends, I fall back in the sand with a thud, letting the cotton candy sky swallow my gaze as I run my hands through my hair. My mind is racing with all the work I need to do to prepare for this, and all the documents I’ll need to submit. Quentin seems to be two steps ahead.

“There’s wi-fi at Norma’s,” he says. “If we hole up in the bedroom, she won’t ask questions. We can work this out.”

“You sure?”

“I’ll make scandalous sounds, if you think it’ll help.”

“Do you usually audibly moan over legal documents?” I tease.

“This time?” he grins. “Yeah, I really just might.”

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