Summer Nights (Fool's Gold #8)(51)

Trisha nodded as she listened to the phone call she’d been having. “Yes, of course,” she murmured. “Understandable. Disappointing, but understandable. Uh-huh. You’re sure.” She paused. “Thank you. I’ll check my email right now.”

She hung up the phone and smiled at Annabelle.

“Good news. The final documents are being emailed to me right now. I’ll get back to them with your current address and my current address. On behalf of lawyers everywhere, I’m embarrassed to tell you, it’s true. The final paperwork was never filed with the court.”

Annabelle clutched the arms of her chair and told herself however bad she felt, she had to keep breathing. Passing out wouldn’t solve any problems.

“No,” she said with a moan. “That can’t be true. I can’t still be married to him. I didn’t like it the first time. What if he won’t let me go?”

Trisha smiled at her. “It’s not his decision. The paperwork is being hand-delivered to the court right now. Once it’s filed, it’s only a matter of a few days, maybe a week or so, until the divorce is final.” Her smile faded. “You haven’t married anyone since the divorce, have you?”

“No!”

“Then there’s no problem.”

There were several problems, she thought as Trisha clicked on something and then started the printer. The biggest of which was still being married to a man she never wanted to see again. Her second biggest problem involved Shane and what he must be thinking. So much for her not having drama in her life. Right now there was plenty.

“I wonder how he found out,” she said, more to herself than Trisha. “And why he came to see me instead of getting in touch with his lawyer?”

“You’re the one who wanted the divorce.”

“How did you know?”

“Years of experience. You’re the one coming to see me, not him. If he’d been upset, he would have done as you said. Gone to his lawyer and gotten it taken care of. You would have heard through legal counsel. Did he fight you for the divorce?”

“A little,” Annabelle admitted. “He didn’t understand why I was leaving.”

“When the wife walks out, the man is always surprised. Plus they find it so inconvenient to have to suddenly take care of themselves. They’re shocked to discover that clean clothes don’t magically appear in drawers and dinner doesn’t cook itself.” Trish shrugged. “Not that I’m bitter.”

“I can see that.”

“Let’s just say I have a lot of experience being married. These days, I want a lover, not a husband. Legally, it’s a lot less messy.”

She put on reading glasses, got up and walked to the printer. “Here are copies of the final papers.” She flipped through the sheets. “I see. You really did want out, didn’t you? There’s no alimony, no divisions of assets.” Trisha looked at her over her glasses. “Did you have legal representation?”

“Yes, and I’m fine with the settlement. I wasn’t interested in Lewis’s money. He earned it, not me.”

“You facilitated him earning it. You could have gotten at least a small percentage of it.”

“No, thanks,” Annabelle told her. “I would rather not be married. We didn’t have kids and I can take care of myself.”

“I see. A person with principles. How annoying.” She passed over the paperwork. “Make sure I have a number where you can be reached. I’ll be in touch as soon as the courts process the paperwork and the divorce is final.”

* * *

THE FOOL’S GOLD MOUNTAINEERS were a short season A-league baseball team with a reasonably good win-loss record. Or so Shane overheard as he waited with Rafe. The stadium was on the small side, but recently refurbished, with an enthusiastic midweek crowd.

“I told you,” Rafe said, pushing Shane toward the ticket collector. “It’ll be good for you.”

“I don’t have time for a game. I have work to do.”

“You’re moping. You need to get out.”

“Get off me.”

Shane really wanted to say something else, but there were too many old ladies in the crowd, not to mention kids and just ordinary people who probably wouldn’t appreciate him swearing loudly in public.

Damned good manners, he thought grimly.

“She’s already talked to a lawyer and had the paperwork filed,” Rafe said, handing over his ticket, then accepting the torn half back.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Shane insisted, following him into the stadium.

“You’re acting like you’re five. Annabelle. I’m talking about Annabelle. The petite redhead who’s got you seeing stars?”

Shane looked past him. “It’s weird. There’s a buzzing sound in my head. Like an annoying fly or something.”

Rafe chuckled. “You can pretend you don’t care all you want but I know the truth. You’re pissed. I’m just saying, she didn’t do anything wrong. She really did think she was divorced, the papers have been filed with the court and then it’ll be done. Some lawyer in North Carolina screwed up. You shouldn’t blame her for that.”

“Did I say I wasn’t talking about this?” Shane asked, wondering why Rafe was trying so hard. Heidi must have put him up to it. After all, Heidi and Annabelle were friends.