It was a small victory, but Kate would take it. Drawing a breath, she centered herself and thought about getting a restraining order.

“Richard, I know it’s a novelty for you, but I have to go to work.” At this point all she wanted was to get away from him. The comments about her supposed selfishness were the most ridiculous things she ever heard. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black, jeez! Richard and Marie had turned materialism into an art form. Kate pulled open the back door and held it for him.

“You aren’t going to change your mind?” he asked.

“Why should I? It’s bad enough I have to bear the indignity of my daughter choosing you and your mistress over me. You want me to pay for it, too?”

“Face facts, Laura doesn’t want to be with you.” Richard crossed the room again and stood over her. He was close, threatening, but he didn’t do anything. He didn’t even make a move with his hand. He just talked. “She wants to live with Marie and me. Every minute she’s here, she’s miserable.”

Kate drew a long breath as her heart collapsed. It was an old dig. She knew Laura was unhappy, but hearing Richard use it yet again, hurt. Another minute and Kate would lose it.

“You know I’ve been trying to avoid this,” he began, “but Laura’s been begging me to call the attorney. I think I might.” He turned away from her and walked toward his car.

“Richard!” she called.

“We’ll be in touch.”

He didn’t turn back, didn’t give her an inch. Having joint custody was all Kate had to keep her relationship with Laura from completely falling apart. If she went to Richard permanently, she’d lose her daughter altogether. Climbing into her car, she slammed her fist on the steering wheel. Life just sucked.

*

The chocolate ice cream slid down her throat and Kate thought that some days seriously needed to be do-overs. Hers had started with Richard being a disgusting pig and was ending with her tearing apart her den.

Kate thought she’d left the folder with all her old rejection letters in the desk in the den. Setting aside the now empty ice cream bowl, she rifled through the drawers, found nothing, and moved her search to the large bookcase. The doors on the bottom half concealed more papers than Kate wanted to see at that point, but finding the letters was important. She wanted to show her creative writing class how many rejections she received on her first book.

The saying went that most writers could wallpaper a bathroom with all the rejections they received; Kate could wallpaper several.

It had been an interesting journey. She sat down to write her first book when Laura started school. She was working part time, just as she was now, and needed something else to fill her days while her daughter was at school and evenings while Richard climbed the academic ladder. There were always late meetings and drinks with colleagues. He made sure he was home for Laura, always eager to hear about her day and take her to whatever activity she may have had. Kate loved his devotion to their child and admired that he took care of business after she had gone to bed for the night. It was then that Kate worked on her stories, sometimes late into the night, following a childhood dream of writing wonderful books. Her first two books were horrible, and were still tucked in a drawer in her desk, never to be seen by another soul. She was struggling with the third one, and then everything changed.

She always envisioned herself writing romances, because that was who Kate was, that was what she believed in. But one day, she put a gun and a badge in the hands of her heroine and Special Agent Elliot Hunter was born.

The character took her places she never imagined. Elliot was strong, smart, and could put a bullet between a bad guy’s eyes without even trying too hard. She was also soft as goo on the inside, having fallen hard for a gorgeous, and often absent, Navy commander. Kate loved her, because as Richard became more controlling, and more abusive, Elliot became tougher, more capable, and less likely to take anyone’s shit.

It took her a year to finish her first book in the series and get up enough nerve to start querying agents and editors. The rejections came fast and furious. Finally, she found an agent who believed in her and started her on the right path. It took another full year to sell it.

It was a paperback and did better than anyone expected. The book that followed sold even more, and it mushroomed from there. The most recent book, Past Lives, was her fourth hardcover and a bestseller from day one. Kate never imagined people would actually want her autograph.

Pulling out a stack of papers, Kate smiled as she went through the memories. Most of what she found were remnants of Laura’s childhood, old schoolwork or drawings. There were some announcements from school, and finally the file she was looking for. She had no idea how it had gotten here, except that since Richard didn’t think it was terribly important, he probably shoved it in there to get it out of the way. When she tugged on it, a manila envelope came out as well. Never being one to squelch her curiosity, Kate bent the metal clasp and emptied the contents into her lap.

It was a record of betrayal. The envelope was filled with pictures of Richard and Marie. Kate guessed Richard had forgotten it even existed. Most of the photos were taken at social functions Kate could only assume were all the “faculty” meetings he attended over the years. Not being able to help herself, she kept looking and the tears flowed. She wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt and felt the full weight of her divorce come crashing down. How could she have been so blind? Based on one picture alone, the affair must have been going on for at least seven years. She figured the time based on a shirt Richard wore in one of the pictures. A shirt she’d picked out for him.

Marie hadn’t changed that much. Her hair might have been a little longer, but her ultra-thin frame was highlighted by the fitted black clothing she wore. In every picture, she was hanging on Richard. Kate’s husband. The man Kate wanted to love her more than anything, and now she knew she never had a chance. Richard’s affection was always with Marie and Kate was just there to keep the house—and, for the last few years, pay the bills.

At least the money problems were starting to make sense. If Richard was keeping a mistress for all that time, she understood why money was tight a lot longer than it should have been. Kate gazed at one picture of Richard and Marie at the beach. It looked tropical, like they’d taken a vacation together. Kate had wanted a vacation like that, someplace warm and romantic. They never went. He was always too busy.

Kate wanted to be in love, but more than that, she wanted someone to love her back. She wanted someone to hold her, touch her, protect her. Even though they hadn’t had a marriage in years, she missed the feel of Richard’s body in their bed. How he would unconsciously wrap himself around her during the night and tell her she was beautiful. Kate understood, after he’d asked for the divorce, that he was talking to someone else when he uttered the words in the dark, but she missed them anyway. Even though they belonged to another woman, those words were all she had, and at the time, they gave her hope.

Well, now the photos gave her hope. And leverage. Glancing again at the pictures in her lap, and thinking about her ex-husband’s latest threat, Kate tucked everything back in the envelope and marked it for her lawyer.

Chapter 7

‡

“Goddamn! Would you be careful? My arm hurts like a son of a bitch.” David spat the words at the trainer who was strapping a huge ice pack to the upper part of his right arm.