The Pre-Nup (18 page)

“Anyway, Alex’s got nowhere else to stay. She can’t afford a hotel and she doesn’t have enough saved for a deposit on her own place.”

“How can that be? She got two hundred dollars for every sucker she could lure back to the VIP room. Plus pole dances, lap dances…. She probably makes more money than I do.”

“I get the feeling prudent financial stewardship isn’t her strong suit. So unless you’re offering a spare bedroom…”

Mara’s eyes lit up. “I’m offering four, as a matter of fact. Your sweater will be back in your closet by nightfall.”

“Look who’s a humanitarian all of a sudden.”

“I’m Mother Teresa in a miniskirt. Leave everything to me.”

Ellie
Chapter
21

H
i, is Patrice there?” After sitting in the lobby of her lawyer’s office building for an hour, reeling in disbelief and zoning out to the steady splash from the indoor waterfall, Ellie finally shook off her stupor and took action. “It’s Ellie.”

Tina, Patrice and Heath’s housekeeper, paused on the other end of the phone line. “Mrs. Barton’s not at home right now. But I’ll be sure to let her know you called.” Her voice sounded formal and distant, as if she had never met Ellie. As if the last seven years of chatting and snacking together after Patrice’s lavish dinner parties had never happened.

Ellie pretended not to pick up on the cold undertone. “Well, it’s kind of urgent. Do you know where she is? Because she’s not answering her cell phone, and I need to speak with her right away.”

“I’m not sure,” Tina hedged.

Ellie sighed. “Look. I get that this is awkward, but you know I wouldn’t press you on this if it weren’t an emergency.”

Tina finally cracked a little. “Is Hannah all right?”

“Don’t worry, Hannah’s fine.” Ellie racked her brain, trying to remember what she would have been doing today if her marriage hadn’t suddenly jumped the track. “Patrice is at a committee meeting, isn’t she? For the cancer benefit?”

A looong pause. “It’s possible.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Did she mention who’s hosting today?”

“I can’t tell you that,” Tina said.

“Please?” As the word left her lips, Ellie realized that she had found herself in a position of supplication with alarming frequency since Michael left. This would have to stop. Soon.

“I don’t want to get involved in all this,” Tina said.

“Well, neither did I, but here I am. Come on, just give me a name.”

“Oh, all right. For you.” The housekeeper lowered her voice to a whisper. “Caroline Surbaugh.”

“Oh crap, not Caroline.” Ellie cringed. “Thanks, Tina. And don’t worry; if anyone asks, I’ll say you hung up on me before I could even finish saying hello.”

“I’d appreciate that.” And then Tina did hang up on her. Ellie listened to the dial tone, stunned at the speed with which she’d been demoted from the level of chummy confidante to telemarketer. Then she put on her coat and prepared to face the clique of elder stateswomen that she, Jen, and Mara privately referred to as “the gold-plated Gestapo.”

Caroline Surbaugh epitomized the expression “A woman can never be too rich or too thin” and was both reviled and revered throughout Mayfair Estates as the sun around which the social solar system revolved. She had a tendency to overindulge at cocktail parties (not difficult, considering she probably tipped the scales at less than a hundred pounds) and expound on topics of questionable taste. Mara hated her because she had once opined that “anyone worth less than five million dollars is only ‘beer and pretzels’ rich,” and Jen hated her because she had once offered to send Jen some special herbal tea that would help Jen (who had just finished training for a triathlon) “lose those last five stubborn pounds.” Ellie had no reason to hate her, as she had Patrice as a buffer. Until now.

Ellie arrived at the front door of the Surbaughs’ sprawling Spanish-style hacienda and tried to comfort herself with the thought that her life could not possibly suck any more than it already did. Let the ladies who lunch do their worst.

She rang the bell and began the countdown to her official excommunication from polite society. In five…four…three…

“Ellie Barton!” Caroline exclaimed, louder than was strictly necessary. “What a surprise!”

All conversation in the living room immediately ceased. Ellie could hear the clink of a demitasse spoon against a china cup, and then total silence.

“We’re so glad you could join us,” Caroline gushed, motioning Ellie in for an air kiss. “But I have to say, I didn’t think you’d make it, considering…”

Sharp staccato footfalls echoed off the coffered wood ceiling as Patrice rushed to join Caroline in the foyer. “Ellie, darling.” Her voice was also loud and cordial, presumably to convey to all assembled that she and her daughter-in-law were still on good terms.

The sight of her mother-in-law broke Ellie’s heart all over again. Losing Michael had been bad enough, but in some ways, losing Patrice would be worse.

Ellie kept her posture rigid when Patrice attempted to hug her. “We need to talk.”

Patrice dropped her arms and nodded. She appeared perfectly put together, as usual, in a crisp white blouse and brown herringbone trousers, but her face bore evidence of strain. Her gray eyes had lost their customary snap and the fine lines around her mouth had deepened. “Of course. I have an appointment this afternoon I simply can’t cancel, but let’s try to find time this weekend.”

“Now.” Ellie tried to ignore the crescendo of scandalized whispers building in the next room. “This can’t wait.”

“Very well.” Patrice’s smile remained firmly in place under Caroline’s watchful gaze. “Let’s step out to the patio. Caroline, may we?”

“Of course.” Caroline led them back through the dining room and opened the French door leading out to the gardens.

Ellie waited until the glass doors closed completely before she opened her mouth again, but Patrice surprised her by initiating the conversation. “I know you met with our lawyers, and I’m sorry. From the bottom of my heart.”

Ellie let her shoulders slump as her spirit wilted. “So you knew? You knew what he was going to say about wanting full custody of Hannah?”

“Well, no, not precisely.”

“Then why don’t you seem surprised?”

“I don’t know all the details, darling.”
And I don’t want to,
was the unspoken implication. “Please believe me when I say I would never participate in the legal machinations. I’m trying very hard not to get involved.”

“Great. One more person who doesn’t want to get involved. Meanwhile, Michael is screwing me over and no one is stopping him.”

Patrice touched her lightly on the shoulder. “I am so, so sorry, Ellie.”

“Don’t be sorry!” Ellie pulled away. “Be on my side!”

Her mother-in-law didn’t reply.

“I’m still the same person, you know. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I know.”

“You’re the one who told me to give him another chance.”

“I know.”

“And now he’s trying to weasel out of paying alimony and threatening to take my baby away and he’s saying you and Heath are in full agreement! How could you?”

Patrice sidestepped this with “Surely you know how highly Heath and I both think of you.”

“Then how can you sit by and let him do this to me?”

“I really…” She waved her hands helplessly. “I’m not privy to the details. The lawyers…”

“Don’t give me that, Patrice! You’re the linchpin of this family. If you say stop, he’ll stop.” She would not beg. She would not beg. Okay, maybe just a teeny bit. “
Please
help me out here.”

Patrice raised one hand to touch the strand of pearls around her neck. “It’s not that simple.”

“Think about how you would feel, Patrice, if Heath had left you and tried to take your sons away.”

“Michael’s not going to take Hannah away from you. And he’s not going to let her go without. He wouldn’t do that, and even if he wanted to, Heath and I would never allow it.”

“Then what the hell?”

“It’s just legal negotiations. That’s how the game is played.”

“Oh. I see. To you guys, this is a game. But to me, this is my
life.
”

“Try to understand. This isn’t personal. It’s not under my control and it has nothing to do with how I feel about you.”

“That’s even more disturbing.”

“I adore you, Ellie, and I never imagined it would come to this.” Patrice lowered her eyes. “But, in the end, Michael is my child. We’re family.”

“And I’m not. Got it. But let me remind you that I gave up my chance to attend law school for the sake of your family. I could have been one of those attorneys you’re so happy to let do your dirty work. Instead, I did what was best for Michael and helped him build his career, and now, I’m supposed to start all over with nothing because he kicked me out of the family? I don’t think so.”

Patrice dabbed at her eyes with the cuff of her pristine white sleeve. “Oh, Ellie, I understand how difficult—”

“Trust me, you have no idea.”

“—but I hope that someday, in the future—”

“No wonder you guys insisted on that pre-nup.” Ellie crossed her arms tightly. “It makes it so easy to take everything back: vows, jewelry, obligations. If you can find the right attorney to negotiate, it’s like my marriage never existed. Who cares about feelings as long as you get your precious piano back.” She turned and yanked open the French doors, surprising a trio of eavesdroppers, who scurried back to the living room. This time, the ladies didn’t bother whispering. They murmured and gasped and snickered, and Ellie had to go right through the gauntlet of gossip on her way out the door.

“Leaving so soon?” Caroline called after her.

Ellie didn’t bother with any more phony social niceties. She slammed into her car and peeled out, leaving tire tracks across the queen bee’s front lawn and plenty for everyone to buzz about.

When Ellie pulled up to her house, she was shocked to see Mara standing on the front step, repeatedly jabbing at the doorbell.

She rolled down the window and yelled, “Perfect timing. I could use a drinking buddy right about now. Hop in and we’ll go for margaritas.”

“No can do.” Mara didn’t move from the doorstep, so Ellie turned off the car with an exasperated sigh.

“Since when do you turn down margaritas?”

Mara waited until Ellie joined her under the portico, then muttered, “I tried to call, but you weren’t picking up.”

“What’s up with the monotone and shifty eyes?” Ellie asked.

Mara jerked her head toward her car, which was parked at the curb by the mailbox. Ellie followed her gaze and noticed the woman in the passenger seat: a tiny slip of a female with the face of an angel, the cagey eyes of a fox, and the bustline of Pamela Anderson. When the stranger saw them both staring at her, she got out of the car and started toward them. Her small stature was only emphasized by her outfit of baggy sweatpants and an enormous blue sweater.

“Pleased to meet you.” Ellie extended her right hand and slapped on the sweet, superficial smile that had gotten her through countless benefit luncheons. “I’m Ellie Barton.”

The other woman regarded her with obvious suspicion and made no move to reciprocate the greeting. Ellie withdrew her hand and threw Mara a questioning glance.

“This is Alex,” Mara announced. “She’s a friend of Josh’s from out of town and she needs a place to stay for a few days.”

Ellie immediately saw where Mara was going with this and did her best to head her off at the pass. “I see. Well, there’s a lovely bed-and-breakfast that just opened by the Frank Lloyd Wright estate, and of course, the Fairmont is divine this time of year.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna work.” Mara turned to Alex. “Could you excuse us for one moment? Thanks.” She waited for Ellie to unlock the door and followed her into the house, where she delivered a quick rundown on Josh, the stripper, and the navy sweater. “And she refuses to let me pay for a hotel, and Jen’s still in L.A., so if you could—”