“Can I get you something? Coffee? Hot tea? Cocoa?” I offered and he turned from his polite perusal of my shelves to me.

“No, Ms. O’Hara, I won’t take up much of your time.”

“Tess,” I said softly and his head tipped to the side. “Everyone calls me Tess.”

“Tess,” he said back, I smiled at him and motioned to the seating area.

He took a seat in my armchair; I planted my ass in the couch.

“What can I do for you Mr. McManus?”

“Dade,” he corrected quietly and I nodded. Then he studied me a moment, shifted uncomfortably in his chair and then said, “I actually don’t know how to say this or even why I’m here.”

This was a good question that had two parts. The second part being how he knew where I lived.

“Can I ask how you, um… found me? I mean, where I live.”

“I asked Joey,” he answered.

Right. This made sense. The kids had been to my place and clearly Joel was as observant as his father.

His eyes locked with mine and he stated, “I might as well just say it because you should know.” He paused then declared, “I have reason to believe your er… boyfriend and my wife are having an affair.”

I blinked at him as my lungs contracted.

“What?” I whispered.

“I have…” he paused, “had the occasion to…” another pause, “hire someone to follow my wife,” he admitted. “And it’s been reported to me that twice she’s met your boyfriend for dinner.”

I waited for more.

None came.

So I prompted, “And?”

His brows drew together. “And?”

“Yes, and?”

“What do you mean, and?”

Oh God.

Belatedly, it hit me. He didn’t know his wife was meeting Brock for dinner to discuss custody. She hadn’t told him.

Oh God.

“Dade,” I said gently, “I know Brock has been meeting Olivia for dinner. This is because, recently, Brock made a career move which means his schedule is more stable. Therefore, a couple of weeks after Thanksgiving, Olivia received word from Brock’s attorney that he wanted to negotiate a joint custody arrangement. Olivia for…” it was my turn to pause, “her own reasons wanted to discuss uh…” Damn! “Various things with Brock including this and she asked him to meet for dinner. She was, uh… somewhat, um… discontent when he refused and she was, um… discontent in front of the boys so Brock agreed. However, after two dinners without a resolution, Brock will now only be communicating through his lawyer.”


His mouth had gotten tight right around the time I mentioned Olivia got word from Brock’s lawyer and it was stretched taut by the time I was done.

Then he looked behind me out my side window.

Oh man.

“She hasn’t discussed this with you,” I said softly.

“No,” he clipped shortly.

I remained silent.

Then I asked, “Are you sure you don’t want any coffee?”

His eyes cut back to me and he didn’t answer my question.

Instead he asked, “Discontent?”

I again remained silent.

“You mean she threw a tantrum in front of the boys to get her way.”

I bit my lip. His eyes dropped to my mouth and his mouth again got so tight I thought his skin would split open.

“Let me go put some coffee on,” I said softly and his eyes shot to mine.

“And my wife’s reasons for wishing to see your boyfriend do not all revolve around discussing the boys seeing more of their father.”

“No,” I whispered.

He nodded and looked back out the window.

“I’ll just go make some coffee,” I whispered, got up and hurried to the kitchen.

I set it to brew, put out a plate and did the unheard of. I put store bought cookies on a plate for company.

Sacrilege.

But I didn’t think he wanted to hang while I whipped up one of my extravaganzas so that was going to have to do.

I did unearth my fancy-shmancy coffee service and the cups with saucers, filled up the sugar bowl and creamer, set it all on a tray and carried it back.

By the time I arrived, he was still contemplating my side yard landscaping with its thin but pretty layer of snow that sparkled in the sun. But he wasn’t seeing snow sparkling in the sun, by the look on his face he was trying to figure out how to get away with murder.

“How do you take it?” I asked.

“Splash of milk, please,” he answered, his eyes moving back to me.

I fixed his coffee and gave it to him then fixed my own and sat back in the sofa.

I barely got my back to the rest when he launched in.

“They’re good boys,” he declared.

“Rex and Joel?” I asked.

“Yes,” he answered. “Fine boys. Very smart. They get good grades. Solicitous in their studies. Solicitous with practicing their sports. Solicitous in keeping their rooms clean.

Solicitous to their mother. Solicitous all the time. ”

This was interesting.

I had, of course, noted this. It was just interesting that he did and that he obviously felt troubled by it.

I sipped coffee and held his gaze but kept my mouth shut.

Dade didn’t.

“Tess, Olivia, she gets… discontent a great deal.”

Oh man.

“Dade,” I whispered.

“They’re terrified of her,” he announced, “or, for her.”

I closed my eyes and looked away.

Then I opened them and looked at him. “You need to speak to Brock.”


This time he kept his mouth shut.

I leaned forward and put my elbows on my knees, holding the cup and saucer in front of me. “If you have concerns, their father should know.”

“I have had concerns for some time, Tess. My concerns are one of the reasons I hired someone to watch my wife, outside of the fact that she’s slept with her tennis instructor and her personal trainer and the massage therapist at her spa. She likes to collect men. This is her pastime outside spending my money.”

“Perhaps you’ve misunderstood these relationships. Perhaps she’s just, um… friendly,” I suggested lamely.

“I have pictures.”

Eek!

“Okay,” I gave in.

“She’s a different woman than the woman I courted.”

Jeez, he said “courted”.

I nodded. “I’ve heard that before.”

“I’m certain you have.”

I had nothing to say to that so I didn’t say anything.

“I have not spent decades being relatively successful in a boardroom only to get played by an out of the bottle, forty-four year old blonde who doesn’t know the difference of the uses

‘their’, ‘they’re’ and ‘there’.”

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.

“I am too,” he replied.

I put my saucer down on the coffee table and picked up the plate with the cookies then extended it to him.

“They’re store bought and that would be ‘they’re’ with the apostrophe ‘re’,” I said in an attempt at a joke, he blinked then I smiled. “If I’d known I was going to have a heart-to-heart, I would have been certain to make a chocolate cake, the heart-to-heart kind with the whipped chocolate frosting between the layers and ganache on top. Unfortunately, I didn’t know so this is all I have.”

He studied me. Then his face softened.

Then he said quietly, “I’ll decline. But perhaps you’ll send a slice of your chocolate heart-to-heart cake back with the boys sometime.”

“I’ll be certain to do that,” I whispered, setting the plate down.

“I would advise you to hurry,” he went on, I got the hint and I smiled sadly at him.

“I’m so sorry, Dade.”

“She speaks of you,” he whispered back and I pulled in breath. “To the boys and me.

You’re all that’s on her mind.” He smiled a small smile. “And that would be ‘you’re’ with an apostrophe ‘re’.”

I smiled then sat back in the sofa, muttering, “I was afraid of that.”

“She does not give up easily, Tess,” he warned and I pulled in another breath. “After my wife died, I told myself, not again. Never again. My wife was a good woman, kind, generous.

I did not wish to…” he paused. “But Olivia, she worked hard at it. Three years. I thought I was lucky to be a man who, in his lifetime, found two, beautiful, kind-hearted women.”

I bit my lip again.

Dade finished, “I was wrong.”

I tilted my head to the side, about to say I was sorry again when the front door opened.

Crap!

I turned to it to see my man, black, skintight, long-sleeved running shirt with dark gray piping and matching (but loose) track pants, his hair wet with sweat as were the muscles of his neck and you could see the dark stain of it on his shirt even though it was black wicking.


He took one look at Dade on my armchair, his brows snapped together over dangerously narrowed eyes and he rumbled, “What the fuck?”

I jumped up and rushed to him.

“It’s cool, honey. Joel told him where I live and Dade he’s… well, coming to terms with some things and those things aren’t the things that Olivia may have told you they are,” I explained then continued, “You need –”

“No shit?” he cut me off, eyes never leaving Dade, he slammed the door behind him, took two long strides into the room with me following and staying close then stated, “You got issues, you do not bring them to my woman’s doorstep.”

Dade straightened from his chair. “Lucas, I was under the false impression –”

“That I was fucking your wife,” Brock finished for him. “Yeah, Dade, I know. Your PI sucks. I clocked him five minutes into my first nightmare meal with Olivia so I obviously clocked him five seconds into my second one. What you obviously don’t get is that in a healthy relationship, a man doesn’t keep shit from his woman or vice versa.”

Ouch!

“Lucas, I –” Dade started but Brock cut him off again.

“If you got something to say, say it to me. Do not land your shit on Tess’s door.”

“He’s a little protective,” I defended Brock to Dade then I turned back to Brock. “Honey, I think you might want to get over being pissed and sit down and talk with Dade.”

Brock’s eyes narrowed on his ex-wife’s husband.

Then he asked, “You gonna tell me why my boys are jumpy as shit?”

“Yes,” Dade answered but said no more or at least he didn’t speak fast enough.

“So…” Brock started, “spit it out.”

“She’s fragile,” Dade stated.

Brock let out an entirely unamused, short bark of laughter before he declared, “Man, Olivia’s made of stone, figuratively and I assume you’ve fucked her so you know also literally.”

Ouch again!

“Brock, honey,” I whispered as Dade’s mouth got tight again.

“No, Lucas,” he bit out, “what I mean is, this is what she communicates to the boys.”

Brock’s entire body went still.

Then he asked softly, “She’s playin’ my boys? ”

“With every breath she takes,” Dade answered.

I froze and stared at Dade.

Oh my God.

“Why the fuck would she do that?” Brock asked what I thought was a very good question.

“I would assume, since you’ve known her longer than I, you understand that she’s careful to acquire important allies. And I would assume, as you divorced her, that your reasons for this were at least partly what mine are going to be.” I heard Brock pull in a sharp breath through his nose at learning this news but Dade went on. “And she simply is who she is. So, I would assume that you understand that she would need as much attention as possible as this is as necessary to her as breath but also to force affection she is not capable of obtaining in natural ways should, for instance, she need to battle me or…” his eyes slid to me then back to Brock, “you.”

“Fuckin’ piece of work,” Brock clipped under his breath, looking away while lifting a hand and tearing it through his wet hair.

“They’re exceedingly cautious around her because she dissolves into tantrums or tears often and at random. They have no idea what will set her off so they’re careful with everything,” Dade continued sharing and he looked at me. “She was not like this prior to us being married or, at least, not that I knew.”


“Let me guess,” Broke put in and Dade’s eyes moved back to him, “it happened, what? An hour after she signed the marriage certificate?”

“Upon return from our honeymoon,” Dade corrected.

“Terrific. At least you got the honeymoon,” Brock returned and Dade’s eyes widened.

“No,” he said quietly.

“Uh… yeah,” Brock replied.

“My Lord,” Dade whispered.