Half Empty (First Wives, #2)(32)

“Which is already at the bank.”

“Still . . .”

“You’re being paranoid. This house has been vacant for almost a year with all this stuff sitting here.”

Trina sighed. “Okay, fine. But watch your back when you leave.”

“I won’t have a neon sign over my car telling the world I’m carrying thousands of dollars’ worth of watches when I take them to the auction house.”

Avery had embraced her new job and had appointments all over Manhattan throughout the weekend. Normal business hours didn’t apply when the two of them waved around the kind of money Fedor’s estate would likely fetch. And that was just with the stuff filling the walls and closets. Shopping real estate agents was high on Avery’s list, and what better time to check them out than during the many open houses that took place over the weekend?

“Go, enjoy your party while I slave away at the office.”

Trina laughed and hugged her friend. “I’ll call when I’m back in town so you know I’m walking in the door.”

“You’ll call when you finish with the party and give me all the details. Don’t be afraid to name-drop if you see anyone famous.”

“Fine.” Trina pulled the arm of her suitcase and rolled it in front of her. “Oh, by the way, I left a message for Cindy, my housekeeper, to let her know we’re in town. If she calls back, have her and a crew come in on Tuesday to start working behind us, cleaning the rooms we’ve already tackled.”

“On it!”

“Thanks again.”

“Go. I have stuff to do,” Avery teased.

Avery stood on the steps and waved as she pulled out of the drive.

Trina opted to drive herself to the airport, again to keep the amount of people coming and going from the property to a minimum.

A weekend date at Wade’s home, with an ex-girlfriend and his mother . . . what could possibly go wrong? There would probably be a dozen other women vying for his attention. Trina looked through her rearview mirror as the Hamptons home disappeared. She was fairly certain no one was going to die, so how bad could it be?





Chapter Twelve



Wade opted for sunglasses and a baseball cap in an effort to keep his identity on the down low. He stood in the back of the crowd, waiting outside of baggage claim, where he’d told Trina he would meet her. When was the last time he’d stood in an airport to pick someone up? He couldn’t remember.

He scanned the crowd, watching for the telltale sign of a cell phone turned his way. There were the kind of fans that noticed him in a crowd and would snap a sly picture, and then there were the people who walked right up, asked if he was Wade Thomas, and then requested a picture or an autograph. Seemed the pictures were the bigger request than his name on a piece of paper. Although he had signed plenty of boobs in his career.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he reached to answer without looking at the name.

“Hello.”

“Wade?”

He didn’t recognize the voice.

“Depends on who is askin’.”

“It’s the blonde pit bull.”

He winced. Avery. “Trina did not tell you I said that.”

“She most certainly did.”

“Well, Miss Avery, I meant that out of my deepest respect,” he backpedaled. “Strong women run the earth.”

“Keep kissing up,” she said.

He laughed as he scanned the crowed exiting baggage claim. “What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to make sure you didn’t send some flunky to pick Trina up at the airport.”

“No, ma’am, I did not. I’m standing right here, waiting for her now.”

“Huh.”

“Anything else?” he asked, knowing full well Avery wasn’t done.

“Yeah. Don’t mess with her head.”

He opened his mouth to respond, only to be cut off.

“Don’t lie to her. Don’t tell her she’s the only one if she isn’t. Don’t be an asshole.”

Wade didn’t think The Blonde Pit Bull was a worthy enough title for the woman giving him sass on the phone.

“You’re a good friend, Avery. Trina’s lucky to have you on her side.” He really did mean that. Much as he was the one on the wrong end of the woman’s gun.

“Uh-huh . . . right.”

“I’m going to go out on a limb and say you really don’t like me, do you?”

“I know your kind, and I’ve warned her. But apparently there isn’t anything else I can do.”

From the crowd he saw a woman of Trina’s height with sleek black hair . . . his heart did a little two-step of its own.

“I’ll take good care of her. You can count on that.”

Yup, that was her. Those dark eyes caught his, even through his sunglasses, and her lips spread into a smile. The feeling in his belly made his entire body warm.

This was good.

This was very good.

Avery was saying something that he didn’t catch.

“Ah-huh . . . sure. Thanks for your advice.” He hung up.

Trina pushed one small, round designer suitcase in front of her as she approached.

He wanted to kiss her. Wanted to throw his arms around her, spin her in a circle, and make her laugh with the silliness of it all.