Pursuing Yvette: A Second Chance Romance (The Viera Triplets Book 3) Page 7

  It makes no sense that this would come out now. There is no way that Angeline would hold back, no matter what Draven says.

  I had to get to the root of the pictures and talk to Ryerson before I put a billionaire in the poorhouse.

  “That isn’t me,” he said flatly, and I groaned inwardly.

  “It is you,” I sighed. “When were these taken, Ryerson? And why didn’t you tell me about her?”

  He looked at me, his face a compilation of consternation and shock.

  “That can’t be me!” he insisted, pressing his face to the photos. “I have never been in that room or with that woman. But that does look a lot like me, you’re right about that.”

  A spark of hope lit my chest.

  “Are you sure, Ryerson?” I asked gently, taking the picture from him. “You’re certain you never got drunk one night and ended up in a hotel room or – “

  “I don’t drink,” he replied. “And I have never woken up without being able to recall the previous day’s events so that eliminates being drugged I would say.”

  I nodded, exhaling slowly.

  “Then these pictures are photoshopped,” I said, tossing the incriminating photo onto my desk and sitting back.

  “Why?”

  The question was so quiet and so plaintive, I almost missed it.

  “Pardon?” I asked, raising my body to look at him. “Why what?”

  He stared at me with a creased brow and shook his head uncomprehendingly.

  “Why any of this?” he asked and for the first time, I heard raw emotion in his voice. “Why after twenty years is she not only doing this but doing it in such an underhanded, awful way?”

  Sympathy for him filled me but I had no response for him.

  Because she’s a selfish bitch, I thought. Because all she cares about is your money. Because marriages have less than a fifty/fifty chance of working out.

  Naturally, I said none of those things and made a commiserating noise instead.

  “I’m sorry, Rye,” I said tenderly. “I really am but sometimes these things work out for the best. I know you feel like you’ve wasted a lot of time – “

  “No, I don’t,” he interrupted, his brows raising in surprise. “Of course I don’t!”

  I was shocked into silence as I waited for him to finish.

  “A marriage is never a waste of time. It is a journey, an adventure. It is having children and falling in love over and over again, if not with every morning you wake up together, at least with every anniversary.”

  He grew quiet and I felt insurmountably sad for him.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to imply that you did not love your wife.”

  “I do love my wife,” he said gruffly and suddenly he looked up at me as if seeing me for the first time. “You remind me a lot of Angie.”

  I had never been more insulted in my life, but I expertly hid my feelings, even though I tasted blood inside my mouth when I chomped down on my cheek.

  “You are both stubborn, unafraid to take what you want. It was one of the first things I learned to admire about Angie. I had never met a woman like her. But you know what they say…”

  I waited.

  “…what draws you to a person is apt to split you apart.”

  I chuckled softly.

  “Too much of a good thing, I suppose,” I replied lightly.

  He snorted.

  “I am saying this as if I am without flaws,” he sighed. “Angie always said I was too easy going, too laid back.”

  “I’m sure that you wouldn’t be where you are today without putting your foot down now and again,” I protested but suddenly as I looked at his aging face, I was reminded of someone and the realization made my heart skip a beat.

  I always teased Draven about being too lassies-faire, even though he had that infamous temper. I wonder if Ryerson has a temper too.

  “It’s not good to keep things bottled up inside,” Ryerson continued as if he was reading my mind. “It comes out at the wrong time and disproportionately.”

  I studied his face and then said something which shocked me.

  “Have you talked to Angeline? Really talked to her? Or are you just going through this because you don’t want conflict and you think this is what she wants?”

  It was not something I would recommend to a client. After all, it wasn’t my place to play marriage counselor.

  He eyed me, and I could see he was considering my words.

  A hard look crossed his face.

  “The time for talking has passed,” he said shortly. “If she’s willing to go so far as to plant evidence of an affair, I don’t have any interest in having a rational discussion with her.”

  But what about before? Before things began to snowball? Why did you just let her walk away without a fight?

  I nodded, shoving the soft feelings from me.

  My job wasn’t to question the way he handled his life.

  My job was to ensure that Angeline didn’t make off with his fortune.

  “I will authenticate these photographs but if what you’re saying is true, your only problem will be whether to press charges against her or not. This borderline on blackmail and perjury.”

  Ryerson rose stiffly from his chair and I knew the meeting was coming to an end.

  “Do what you have to do,” he said quietly. “Keep me posted.”

  “Rye…”

  He glanced over his shoulder as he reached for his coat.

  “This doesn’t need to drag on forever. I can see it's taking its toll on you,” I said delicately. “Maybe we should consider a compromise instead of continuing this rampant tug-of-war.”

  His thick eyebrows shot up and he stared at me in surprise.

  “I would not have thought that you of all people would suggest that,” he replied slowly. “Maybe you’re not as much like Angeline as I thought.”

  I hope not, I groaned. I am not angry and bitter. I wouldn’t put my ex through the ringer for no good reason…would I?

  I loathed that I was questioning myself and I was miffed that Ryerson Sterling had started my self-doubt.

  When he left, I perched on the edge of my desk, staring out my window into the parking lot below.

  But maybe I am like Angeline after all. Didn’t I walk out on Draven without a real explanation, with only a note and instructions not to call me?

  My eyes narrowed as a shot of insecurity flooded through my body.

  Was I selfish too? Am I selfish now?

  A dozen questions began to flood me, and I tried to shake them off, wondering why this particular case was filling me with such doubt.

  Maybe Ryerson was right; maybe I was just like his soon-to-be ex-wife.

  But I saw that it went beyond that.

  Ryerson Sterling reminded me of Draven also.

  Well, that settles it then, I thought firmly, slipping off the desk and flopping back down into my swivel chair. If I am Angeline and he is Ryerson, then we did the right thing walking away from one another six years ago or else this could have been us in twenty years.

  I refocused my attention on the computer before me and again forced myself to ignore the nagging voice in the back of my mind.

  Except you didn’t walk away from one another. You left Draven like a coward and you never gave your marriage a shot in the first place.

  My hands flew over the keyboard and although it took every fiber of my being, I redirected my consternation into an email.

  I was second guessing myself and I needed to get my head on straight for the benefit of my clients.

  Mr. Archer,

  I have sent the pictures you have submitted to an independent lab for authenticity analysis.

  If they prove to be doctored, Mr. Sterling may choose to pursue criminal charges in this matter.

  As a professional courtesy, I am giving you an opportunity to remove the pictures as evidence from the suit by tomorrow morning at nine am.

  If you do not, and there
is false evidence submitted to the courts, I will also have no choice but to approach the ethics committee with your conduct and open an investigation into this matter.

  I look forward to your prompt response.

  Sincerely,

  Yvette Viera

  I didn’t give myself a chance to think about the threat I was imposing, and I sent it off, my pulse racing slightly.

  I waited for the feeling of smug satisfaction to overcome me, but it never did.

  It was almost as if I had done the right thing but for the wrong reason.

  Don’t be ridiculous, I chided myself. They are doing the wrong thing. I am setting things right. Angeline must be stopped. She’s spinning out of control in her anger.

  But for the first time since I had laid eyes on Angeline Sterling, I felt a flash of empathy toward her.

  And the sensation filled me with a dreadful understanding of myself.

  9

  Draven

  She had called our bluff and now there was nothing left to do but stagnate with back and forth offers.

  The past months had been excruciating to me, watching Angeline begin to falter in her once steadfast conviction that she was going to come out on top.

  I had known the pictures were fake, even though Angeline had not come forward and said so directly but I would be a fool not to recognize it for what it was; a lie.

  It was just as Yve had said; it Ryerson had been unfaithful, there was no way Angeline would have kept it quiet for months.

  “I can’t let you submit those pictures to the court,” I warned Angeline. “She knows they aren’t real.”

  Saying the words aloud only made me feel foolish, knowing that I had allowed it to go so far in my quest to become senior partner and make Yvette eat crow.

  “I’m losing,” Angeline had said quietly, staring at me with blank green eyes. It was the first time I had ever seen her look defeated.

  I could read the vulnerability in her face as she stared through me.

  For once, I did not see the wheels turning in her head.

  It was like the fire had been extinguished and her will to proceed with the hectic process was becoming too much for her.

  But I needed her to fight.

  If she lay down, I could bid adieu to my promotion.

  Sensing a rare opportunity, I leaned across the table and reached out to touch her hand reassuringly.

  “We aren’t done yet,” I told her confidently. “There are still his offshore accounts and – “

  “What’s the point?” Angeline asked dully. “He wins. He always wins and without even trying.”

  I stared at her for a long minute, worried that if I spoke, I would say the wrong thing.

  “He doesn’t have to win,” I started slowly but she smirked and withdrew her hand, suddenly adjusting her pupils to peer at me.

  “You’re not much of a fighter either, are you?” she asked. “You would prefer to let things happen naturally.”

  I swallowed the worry formulating in my windpipe.

  I had grown accustomed to Angeline’s condescending manner but there was something different about the way she spoke that afternoon, something alarming.

  “I never understood how Rye did not put up a stink. He just let everything flow off his shoulders like droplets of rain as if nothing ever bothered him.”

  “I’m sure plenty bothered him,” I told her. “But he is a good businessman. He knows how to hide his emotions.”

  She laughed mirthlessly.

  “I am not surprised you would say that. I see a lot of him in you. I bet you would let your wife walk away without incident, wouldn’t you? You would just sit back like Ryerson and let your wife divorce you without so much as picking up a phone.”

  I was stung by the assessment.

  “Of course I wouldn’t!” I snapped, my face flushing red with annoyance. “You don’t know anything about me!”

  She cocked her blonde head to the side and reached for a cigarette. Even in a non-smoking restaurant, she insisted on lighting up.

  “No,” she agreed. “I don’t know anything about you, but I bet you aren’t married.”

  I scoffed.

  “I would say that many divorce attorneys have a difficult time taking marriages seriously,” I replied. “That doesn’t mean that I haven’t treasured my relationships.”

  Her eyebrows raised.

  “Is that a fact?” she demurred. “When was the last time you had a serious girlfriend?”

  I found the line of questioning uncomfortable and I shifted my eyes away.

  “This isn’t about me, Angie. This is about you, Ryerson and your settlement.”

  “Why don’t you want to talk to me about your exes?” she asked. “Is it because you have regrets? Maybe you regret that you let them get away when you should have been man enough to chase after her and learn what was wrong instead of sweeping it under the rug. But then again, I bet you’re so consumed by your career that love was just a trite concept to you. I bet you were happy to see her go instead of letting her hold you back.”

  She smiled coldly.

  “I know Ryerson feels that way. He just doesn’t want to give me my due.”

  My hands became fists under the table.

  “You don’t need to take your anger out on me. I am not Ryerson!” I growled but I wondered why her words had me so incensed.

  And I wondered why I couldn’t get Yvette out of my mind.

  Things slowed down considerably after that, the offers and counteroffers slowing to a snail’s pace.

  Angeline almost became an afterthought as my caseload grew but somehow her words always sat in the back of my mind, like a spot of dust overlooked in a house cleaning.

  Things between Yvette and I were chilled.

  She barely acknowledged me in the office, but she wasn’t rude either.

  We communicated by email mostly, despite our desks being a few hundred feet away from each other.

  On the last week of April, she surprised me by appearing in my office and I could tell by her face that she had unpleasant news.

  Still, I found myself noticing that the cherry lipstick she wore accentuated her perfect mouth beautifully.

  If I closed my eyes, I could almost remember what she tasted like and in that moment, I was filled with a stab of longing so deep, I almost gasped.

  “What is it?” I asked without preamble. I knew she wasn’t there on a social call.

  “I have filed with the court. Mr. Sterling is tired of waiting for this matter to be resolved and frankly, Vern is anxious to get this settled. Our court date is three weeks Monday.”

  Angeline was not going to like the news any more than I did.

  Goodbye senior partner.

  I nodded.

  “Fine,” I replied. “It’s probably for the best.”

  She turned to leave but as she did, I could read a peculiar expression on her face.

  “Hey,” I called out. “Maybe when this is all over and done with, we can resume our coffee dates in the mornings.”

  Her mouth parted in surprise, but no sound came out.

  Instead, she nodded but her demeanor did not indicate much confidence.

  Disappointment swept through me, but I silenced it instantly.

  I had to have known that things would never go back to the way they had been before, but I didn’t want to accept it.

  We had a history together, a long, complicated story which had never been fully resolved.

  We have to overcome whatever animus we had before the Sterlings appeared, the stuff we never talked about, I realized.

  “Yve,” I tried again, and I saw how uncomfortable she appeared.

  We can do this another time, I thought. After all the dust has settled.

  Yet I knew that we never would.

  I had to do it then.

  “What is it, Draven?” she asked, and I inhaled sharply.

  “Why did you leave me?”

  Her skin seemed to t
urn translucent before my eyes and I thought her legs were going to buckle beneath her.

  “What?” she gasped, gaping at me. “Why are you bringing that up now?”

  “Because we’ve never addressed it. You left me a note, disappeared back here and when I saw you again, I was engaged as if you and I had never happened. We spent years sticking our heads in the sand, but we’ve never talked about it.”

  “Now is not the time,” Yvette mumbled, glancing furtively at the door as if she was worried we were being overheard.

  But I didn’t care.

  Saying the words aloud was somehow freeing.

  “It’s never the time,” I insisted. “I want to know why you left me.”

  She laughed nervously.

  “You got my letter. We weren’t getting along, Drave. I wanted to come home and be near my family for law school and you wanted to stay in New York. Your temper made me nervous and I felt like I really didn’t have another choice but to leave.”

  “You slunk off in the middle of the night,” I cried. “And you never called me again!”

  “Keep your voice down!” she hissed, stepping into the office and closing the door. “We were kids, Draven. It was a long time ago and we both moved forward.”

  “You left me without the benefit of telling me face-to-face!”

  Yvette stared at me and for a moment, I thought she was going to storm away.

  But she didn’t.

  Instead, she walked toward me, her blue eyes bright with something I couldn’t identify.

  “And you couldn’t have cared less,” she replied quietly. “You didn’t call or email. You didn’t even check in on Facebook to see if I was alive.”

  “I knew you were alive!” I snapped. “And you told me not to contact you. I was trying to respect your wishes!”

  “No,” she said softly. “You were happy to see me go. I knew you would be and you proved it.”

  My jaw dropped in amazement.

  “If you believe that, you’re insane,” I stated flatly. “I have never been more devastated in my life than I was when you left.”

  Yvette shook her head, a serene smile on her lips.

  “No, Drave. You were focused on school and grades. You never noticed me, not really. When I left, you felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. I knew that you wouldn’t fight for me because I was never what you wanted.”