All Grown Up(78)

“Hey, babe.”

Ugh. Does he ever listen to anything I say? I should’ve gone with my first instinct when I’d seen my ex-husband’s name flash on my cell.

“If we’re going to call each other nicknames, I’m going to use the one I favored after you moved out.”

He ignored my comment. “Listen, about the summer place.”

Great. I get to talk to you and be reminded about my summer with Ford all in one conversation. “What about it?”

“The piling fix will cost about thirty grand. But that’s just a Band-Aid. We need all the stilts replaced in the next five to seven years to repair it correctly, and that’s almost twice the price.”

Wonderful. And I’m responsible for half of that, according to our divorce settlement. “I don’t have that kind of money. You know I just went back to work.”

“Yeah. I don’t have it either. That’s why I think we should dump the place.”

“What? No!”

“The market out there is hot right now. We could get almost five times what we paid for it fifteen years ago.”

“Yes, but then what? Neither of us would be able to afford a replacement.”

“You might be able to pick up a small place up toward the lighthouse that isn’t on the beach. I don’t really even like it out there anymore, so I wouldn’t rebuy.”

“I love our house. We can’t sell it.”

“Well, if we don’t do something, it will fall into the water within the next few years. That’ll solve our problem.”

God, he really was always a jerk. “We do need to do something—pay for the repair.”

“So you’re gonna come up with sixty grand, then?”

“Sixty? Thirty would be my half.”

“Told you I don’t have the thirty either.”

“But our divorce agreement requires us to each pay half.”

“Can’t pay what I don’t have.”

Ryan made a good salary. Although, he was paying me alimony and paying college tuition and still had to foot the bill for his own house. I wanted to argue with him and say that was his problem, but it was actually our problem, and it became my problem if I wanted to keep the summer place.

“What if we take a mortgage on the Montauk house to pay for the repair?”

“I can’t afford another payment, Val.”

“I’ll pay it. I have a job now. You only have two more years of alimony. When that’s done, you can help me pay it off.”

“See if you can even get a mortgage, and we’ll talk about it. Otherwise, I don’t think we have a choice but to sell it.”

Great. I’m sure the bank will love my one month of employment history.





Chapter 30




* * *





Ford



“Ford? Is that you?”

Shit.

I’d started passing by Eve’s restaurant pretty much every day, but it was the first time in four weeks that I’d run into her. I’d made it a few steps past the door when she opened it and called after me.

“Oh, hey. I was just passing by. I have an appointment a few blocks away or I would have stopped in to say hi.” Yeah, right.

Eve gave me a suspect smile, but I wasn’t sure which part of my bullshit she wasn’t buying. She thumbed toward the restaurant behind her. “I was setting the table, getting ready for dinner reservations, when I saw you walk by.”

I nodded and shoved my hands into my pockets. I really was a shit liar. “How’s it going?”

She tilted her head. “Good. Busy. You?”

“Good. Good.” I had to ask. It would have been rude not to. “How’s Valentina doing?”

She seemed to think about the answer before speaking. “She’s doing amazing. Loves her job. Met an Italian teacher. Getting back into the swing of things.”

“An Italian teacher?” Apparently, I needed it spelled out for me.

Eve shrugged as if the next words weren’t going to make me feel like she’d kicked me square in the nuts. “She’s taking it slow, of course. The whole dating scene is new for her.”

I swallowed and nodded, but my expression went from bullshit happy to wounded. “I gotta run.”

“Right.” Eve smiled like she’d enjoyed delivering the blow. “Your meeting nearby. I guess you have a lot of those. You should get to that. Take care of yourself, Ford.”

The entire night and next morning, I was fucking useless. I sat in on a meeting and read a few emails, but I couldn’t tell you what the hell either was about. Thankfully, it was Friday. I walked out of my office at only two o’clock.

My assistant looked up. “Late lunch today?”

I shook my head. “I’m going to take a ride over to the Long Island City property, just to check in. I won’t be back. If you need me, you can reach me on my cell.”

“Okay. Have a great weekend.’”

“Yeah. You, too, Esmée.”

I walked to work, but kept my car parked in a garage a few blocks from the office. Since it was still early, I managed to navigate through the city and out the tunnel in less than a half hour. My mind was stuck replaying everything about Valentina over and over again…from the time we spent together to what Eve had said last night. The only good thing was that being so sorry for myself about what I’d lost kept me from thinking about my father and all the shit that had gone down in Chicago.