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“Well, you didn’t make it to our last two Bad Housewives meeting, and you’ve been quiet on the group text. So I gave her some wine and cornered her,” Nikki, who had the talent of being pushy, said.
“I’m sorry. I meant to tell you,” Brit said, unsure if she lied or not. The idea had crossed her mind after the conversation she shared with Lara, but she postponed it like a crash diet. “Are you mad at me?”
“I’m surprised. I’m not mad at anyone,” Nikki said, plopping down on the couch. “I mean, I guess I’m a little mad at him.”
“At Damian? Why?”
“Because his wife is gone, and he’s—”
“Slumming up with me?”
Nikki shook her head. “Don’t be silly. He’s looking for trouble, Brit. Have you wondered what it’ll be like when Violet is back? What if she wants to repair her marriage?”
“He doesn’t.”
“He can change his mind. It’s hard to say something when the spouse is miles away.”
“I’d never be in the middle if they wanted to work on their marriage,” Brit said. The weight of those words rested on her shoulders. “The sad truth is, Violet left months ago and there’s no prediction about her return. I wasn’t the one who broke their family.”
* * *
“Dr. Forrest, Bill O’Donnell called you,”Adriana said when he dashed into his office after doing his morning round visits with some patients.
“Thanks.”
Damian sat on his chair, running his hand down his face. Damn it, he needed to shower. Amanda had gotten a cold after the day at sea, and he spent his entire Sunday taking care of her. Now, a day later, she insisted she could make it to school—with no fever and looking better, he agreed. He hadn’t called Brit for the past two days. He’d meant to, but every time he reached for the phone he got pulled away—either by Amanda or a real life sound bite, or his own fears of having shared too much with her. He’d felt good about it then, but after, old insecurities lurked like smoke from a burning building.
He picked up his phone and dialed Bill’s number. The sailing could have been successful, but he didn’t feel a good vibe from Bill and Candi together. Maybe she’d take the plunge and slap him with a divorce decree without warning Damian or giving him enough time to counteract the fallout. Maybe his little plan had backfired and now they both didn’t trust him.
“Hello,” Bill said at the other end of the line.
“Hi, Bill. Damian here. Sorry I missed your call. Everything okay?”
“Yes. I wanted to thank you for taking us sailing.”
“That was my pleasure. Glad you enjoyed it.”
“We did. Tell your lawyer to send me the final version of the contract and I’ll sign it.”
He’d sign it. The weight of a grand piano was lifted from his shoulders. Powerful relief filled him. He’d get his dream come true—he may not have been able to help his mother after she’d been so brutally burned and scarred, but now, other victims would get the help they needed. “Thank you. What helped tip the scale?”
“Candi talked to me about some things. Apparently, Brit gave her some advice, and I’ve decided to listen.”
He straightened in the chair. “Really?”
“Yeah. Candi gave me an ultimatum, and I don’t want to lose her. So I’m having my vasectomy reserved and we’ll take it from there.”
Surprise hit him in full force, but he didn’t let it sift through his voice. “Congratulations.”
“Not in order yet, but I’ll take it.” Bill chuckled. “Send the paperwork and let’s get the ball rolling.”
After a couple more pleasantries, Damian hung up the phone and called his lawyer immediately, adamant on not losing the chance. Nothing would stand on his way now—and he owed it all to Brit.
Brit.
He drummed his fingers on the desk. He had to thank her for all she’d done. Hmmm… He skimmed his office, searching for an answer.
What was the name of that New York conference she mentioned a few times? He googled some key names, then it popped up on his screen. He’d show her how much he appreciated all the changes she’d made in his life.
