Page 87 of Be More Capybara

‘Is this about Helen?’

He looked down.

She knew him well enough to read his body language. ‘Not going well?’

‘That’s none of your business.’

She sniggered, but then he wasn’t expecting sympathy on that front. ‘You’re serious about this proposal?’

‘I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.’

‘You’d be walking away from several million dollars.’

‘I know. But I want this to be over. I don’t want Sloane and Avery to think I’m trying to take you for every dime I can get.’

‘And you’re not going to demand 50/50 custody?’

‘The girls are old enough to make their own minds up about that. My attorney advises me that the courts will take their wishes into consideration, so that isn’t a decision that’s entirely up to you and me to make. I’m assuming you don’t hate me so much that you’re poisoning them against me?’

‘Do you really think I’m that much of a bitch? I don’t hate you, Nigel. We want different things from life, that’s all.’

He wasn’t sure how true that was, but it didn’t matter now.

‘That’s why I’m offering you a simple, clean break. You get on with your life. I get on with mine.’

Madison picked up the paper knife and started twirling it in her fingers. She was giving it serious consideration.

She eyed him up suspiciously. ‘And there’s no catch?’

‘None.’

‘I’ll say one thing about you, Nigel. You always - what’s that phrase you like to use - play life with a straight bat.’

‘I try. So do we have a deal or not?’

‘I’ll think about it.’

Nigel walked out onto the street. What had he just done? It could either be the best or the worst decision of his life, but it was too late to worry now. He reckoned Madison would accept the deal - she just wanted to make him sweat. Only time would tell.

Now he needed to concentrate on resolving the Helen situation.

Twenty minutes later, he walked into the car rental office, tucked away at the back of an apartment building parking lot.

‘How can I help you today, sir?’ the man behind the front desk asked.

‘I have a car booked in the name of Farnham.’

The man looked at the screen on the counter. ‘Toyota Camry?’

‘Yeah.’ If Madison could see him now, she’d be properly laughing, not just sniggering like she’d done earlier. He doubted she’d ever so much as looked inside a Camry, let alone driven one.

‘Returning it to JFK on Tuesday?’

‘That’s right.’

They went through the paperwork, and Nigel was soon sitting behind the wheel of a dark blue Toyota, poised to drive out into the New York traffic.

He texted his mother.