Page 29 of One Weekend in Los Angeles

“I can make an anonymous offer so generous on the house that he can’t refuse. I would stipulate it come furnished and include you getting custody of Callie as a condition for the sale. Then you wouldn’t have to deal with the coming battle.”

From my first taste of success, people had come out of the woodwork to ask me for money. From high school classmates who sought investment capital for their latest ventures to cousins who felt entitled to share in my wealth because we shared a bloodline, I’d heard it all. My own father had thought I owed him even after he’d treated my mom like shit.

I was generous with those closest to me—I’d bought my mother a house—but as a rule I didn’t offer money. Especially to those I barely knew.

But Andrea was the exception.

I took out my phone to fire off a text to my manager and make it happen, but her response was not one I’d expected.

“Absolutely not.”

I glanced up from the text I was composing. “What? Why not?”

She was about to tell me, but a woman came into the restroom. Her face expressed shock at the both of us.

I threw her a smile. “We were just leaving.”

Taking Andi’s hand, I led her down the hall toward the back exit so we could be alone. Inhaling deeply, I realized I was coming across as controlling.

“I want to help. Please let me.” When was the last time I’d been desperate to offer money, and someone wouldn’t accept? I wasn’t sure it had ever happened.

She took both my hands in hers. “And I appreciate it more than I could ever say, but I could never accept money from you or anyone else. I need to do this on my own. Or at least with the help of the attorney I hired. What we really need to do is sell everything, so Jeff can pay me back some of the money he owes me.”

Hold up. “He borrowed money from you?”

“He borrowed against the equity in the house. Since that’s considered marital funds, he doesn’t necessarily owe me money.”

“What did he do with the money?”

“He invested in a bar in Hollywood.”

“He’s an owner?” An idea started to take root.

“He and three other partners went in on it. He has a ten percent stake.”

“But if the equity in the house belongs to both of you, wouldn’t the investment in the bar belong to you too? We’re in a community property state. Unless you signed something saying it was only his?”

Her eyes went wide before her smile did. “I didn’t sign anything of the sort. Which means I have part of the stake in the bar too. Holy shit, Deac. This could be it. The leverage I need to ensure he doesn’t fight me over Callie.”

I loved the way she called me Deac. And I admired how she wasn’t letting Jeff’s threats overwhelm her. Instead, she seemed ready to meet them with her own demands. The only thing that concerned me was that a good shark attorney would already have pointed out to her the leverage she had.

“You need a better divorce lawyer. I know someone who’s one of the best out there. His name is Lawrence Gerson.” He’d represented my mom during her divorce from my father ten years ago and had ensured the bastard didn’t get anything more than he deserved. “Let me contact him for you?”

“If the favor is to make the call, then yes, but I’ll be the one paying him.”

“Absolutely.” If I had to supplement his fee, I would do so and deal with her anger later if she found out. “I’ll text him right now.”

I typed a quick text, asking if Lawrence was available to take a new case. Unbeknownst to Andrea, I added a second message that I’d call him tomorrow with some additional details, namely the reasonable rate I wanted him to present to her.

We returned to the main room in time to see Jeff arguing with a blonde in the corner. I assumed this was his mistress, Paula. The woman stomped off with him quickly following, the whole altercation bringing all eyes upon the two of them.

Andrea expelled a long breath. “God, it feels good to have his tantrums be someone else’s problem tonight. Meanwhile—” She took my hand and smiled up at me. “I get to look forward to my evening.”

The wave of possessiveness that took hold of me was something I’d never experienced before. Not only did I want to help and protect her, but I found myself reluctant to let her go. “How much longer are you contractually required to be here?”

She held my wrist and glanced at my watch. “Half an hour. And that might be just enough time to do an interview.”

“You’re sure it’s what you want?” My gaze studied her face.