Page 30 of First Date: Divorce (Wyoming Marriage Association #1)
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Larkin,” Lily said with her usual smile. “I hope you had a lovely walk before dinner.”
“Lovely,” K.D. repeated with a suitable hint of sarcasm.
They’d also had a careful conversation on their walk back. Skirting around the issue of whether they’d outright flout Cully’s instructions about taking no risks.
“Wonderful. And dinner? It was so nice to serve everyone on the patio on such a lovely evening,” Lily added.
They’d ended even their careful conversation when they walked into the last stages of setup for dinner on the patio.
Izzy and Orion called them over to join them by the pool for a pre-dinner drink. The older couple entertained them with their sharp observations on the staff and other couples who came into sight.
“You must spend a lot of time with the other couples to know so much about them,” K.D. said after Izzy’s description of one couple’s knock-down-drag-out fight — “figuratively only” — over what breed of puppy to get.
“Good heavens, no,” the older woman said.
“We try to stay away from most of them,” Orion added. “Talk about taking the fizz out of a day. But we hear things. Plus a lot of experience. Can’t help but put pieces of the puzzle together.”
The dinner planners had each couple at a separate table, so there’d been no further insights gained and the older couple went inside immediately after the main course.
After a silent shared look acknowledged that most of the staff was on the patio, leaving inside less occupied than usual, K.D. and Eric followed Izzy and Orion — and ran right into Lily and all her lovely wishes and questions.
“Are you planning to join us later for danc—? Oh, excuse me.” The phone gave a distinctive trill. “I’m needed in the office.”
She bestowed another smile on them, then hurried off.
She left her computer screen open and signed on.
K.D. looked toward Eric. He was looking at Ms. Smiley’s screen.
Then he met her eyes.
They agreed in that instant.
Not even Cully could expect them to be so careful they wouldn’t take advantage of this opportunity.
And they truly were in this together … in case this went wrong.
“I’ll look. You keep a lookout,” she said.
“You keep a lookout. I’ll look.”
“I’m law enforcement.”
“I’d recognize what might help a divorce lawyer.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. He had a point. “Fine.”
She stood where she could see the stairs, the elevator, and the entry to the hall that led to the counseling rooms and offices beyond them. Behind her, she was aware of Eric flipping through screens. Her fingers itched to do the flipping.
Teamwork, she reminded herself.
Voices came to her from down the hall.
After a quick check of the stairs and elevator — all clear — she stepped into the hallway.
At the far end, Lily, Melody, another female counselor, plus the man she’d seen leaving during last night’s movie on the patio, now dressed more casually in khakis and a pink and yellow shirt, appeared to be in discussion.
She thought it was Melody’s voice — but couldn’t swear to it — saying, “… possible, but I still think something’s not adding up.
Those statements contrast with other ones and then the body language.
It’s like they’re drawn to each other, then ricochet away.
And when they do, other indicators point toward divorce—”
“Never say the D word,” the other counselor said.
“Bad for business,” contributed the guy.
Melody continued her musing. “I don’t understand the mix at all. Not sure what’s going on…”
The other counselor chuckled. “Well, if that’s all, welcome to the club.”
Melody did not seem amused. They must have shifted, because her voice came more fragmented. “…hard time getting a consistent read … body language says one thing — like why are they even here? But their checklist answers were all over … Don’t even agree what the problem is…”
Those last two fragments caught K.D. Was Melody talking about her and Eric?
That could be trouble. Real trouble.
If their counselor started questioning the reality of their relationship—
The other counselor said, “Could be a situation where the chemistry’s there, but the compatibility isn’t.”
As the group made subtle shifting movements that indicated they were about to break up, K.D. retreated back around the corner.
The stairs, entry, and elevator remained clear. Eric never lifted his head, but clearly knew she was there from his soft-voiced, “Buy me more time.”
*
K.D. went back around the corner and into the corridor, as if for the first time.
The other three headed the opposite direction. Lily the Smiler came toward her.
K.D. walked to meet Lily, nodded in response to her requisite smile, then took another step past before saying, “Oh. Lily.”
Lily stopped and turned toward her, which is what K.D. wanted, because it left Lily with her back to the reception area. Which meant she’d have to turn again to resume her trip toward where Eric was and that would give K.D. time to warn him or delay Lily or both.
“Yes? May I help you, Mrs. Larkin?”
K.D. bit her lips, hard, and let tears form in her eyes. “Don’t call me that.” Her broken voice added the perfect touch. “Please.”
“Oh, dear.” Lily’s smile flickered, faded. It left her face blank, as if it had no idea what to do with the smile gone. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. La—”
“K.D. Please call me, K.D. It’s the only way I feel like a person anymore.
He puts me in a box. Treats me like the little housewife.
Like I have no other meaning than being his wife .
Because he earns so much money and I don’t as a librarian.
It all has to come from him and I feel like I’m begging. And I feel so worthless .”
The words tumbled out and somewhere in her head a voice said this was what she’d been thinking her mother felt. But this wasn’t the time to consider that.
“No, no, you shouldn’t feel that way at all, Mrs. — K.D.” A smile started, then fled. “Of course you have worth. Why, Melody was just saying…”
“Melody talked about me?” She made it sound needy and hopeful.
It worked.
“Why, yes, in only the most general terms, of course, but she said what an intelligent, thoughtful woman you are. And she’s quite optimistic for you and your husband. She feels you truly care about each other and will do the hard work necessary to make your marriage work.”
“She said that?”
“Yes. And how in love the two of you so clearly are on your wedding video. I hope I’m not speaking out of turn. Oh, please don’t cry. She is optimistic, truly.”
Biting down harder, K.D. produced a pair of tears. Her lip was going to hurt like hell. “She doesn’t know, though, does she? She can’t truly know.”
“Know what?”
Over the shorter woman’s shoulder, K.D. saw Eric appear at the entry to the hallway. He gave her a significant look, then turned away, as if, having spotted the two women down the hallway, he’d decided to go another direction — any other direction.
“Know that he’s been saying Gigi’s name in his sleep. Over and over.” K.D. ended on a sob. “I’m sorry. I have to go. I can’t…”
She hustled down the hallway toward the elevator, as if overcome by her tears, trailed by Lily the Smiler’s reassuring platitudes.
In the elevator, she made a show of pulling herself together for the sake of the camera.
When it reached the bedroom floor, she sucked in another breath and stepped out. She caught a glimpse of Eric turning the corner at the far end, well past their room, and followed, emitting a sort of hiccupping sound that might be taken for a sob.
When she turned that corner, a door opened behind her, and arms pulled her back.
“It’s me,” Eric said, directly into her ear.
She let him tug her inside. The door closed and they were in absolute darkness.
“What—?” she asked, barely above a breath.
He answered at the same level. “There’s one of these closets on each floor. I had to see you without a camera on us, even if they know we ducked in here. To tell you that you were amazing, fantastic, awe-inspiring.”
“Shh. What did you find out?”
His voice dropped back to its lowest volume.
“Not a damned thing. Not useful, anyway. No financial material or counseling notes. It’s like a third system.
Registration details, counseling schedules, activities.
No info you wouldn’t expect to be in those files.
Beyond names and addresses, nothing a divorce lawyer would want.
You’d think there’d have to be a way to access the financial information to confirm registration, although I suppose it could be one-way communication from the financial system to registration, but— Okay, I see you glazing over.
I’ll go back to saying I didn’t find a damned thing useful.
“But you, you were incredible. I wanted to applaud. Even if I was maligned. Gigi’s name in my sleep, huh?”
She chuckled. “It was the first thing that came to mind.”
“And a brilliant mind it is.”
He kissed her forehead.
She was surprised he’d found her forehead in the blackness.
Then he kissed her mouth, and how he found that didn’t matter.