Sun-kissed (The Au Pairs 3)

Jacqui tapped on Anna's bedroom door softly. The sound of tinkling water, wind chimes, and whale songs drifted from behind the door. "Anna--there's someone at the door who needs to see you."

There was no answer.

"Anna? Anna?"

With a start, the door banged open, and Anna stood in the doorway in a white terry-cloth bathrobe, her face covered in a chunky green avocado mask. "What is it? I told Laurie I was not to be disturbed!" she hissed.

"There's a man ... a man at the door . . . says he has to see you. . . . We told him to come back, but he won't go," Jacqui explained, suddenly feeling as nervous as Laurie.

"Who does he think he is?" Anna whispered viciously, stomping down the stairs to the foyer. She opened the door, where a man in a dark suit and sunglasses stood patiently.

"Yes?"

"Anna Perry?" he asked.

"That's me," she replied haughtily.

"You've just been served," he said, handing her a thick yellow envelope. "Good afternoon." He tipped her a salute and walked away.

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"What?" Anna asked, whatever color was left in her face draining. She ripped open the envelope and pulled out several pages of a thick document. "THAT BASTARD!" she yelled. Anna threw the papers in the air and stormed through her own ticker-tape parade back to her spa treatment room. "I can't believe he took me seriously!"

Jacqui winced.

Shannon, huddled in the kitchen doorway, looked at Jacqui with questioning eyes. "What just happened?"

"I think Kevin just asked Anna for a divorce," Jacqui said, collecting the scattered papers. "Go outside and watch the kids. Don't you say a word!"

She skimmed a page. Contract for the predetermined division of assets, arrangement of alimony or other support, and/or allocation of attorney's fees associated with the termination of marriage, she read.

She flipped through the second bundle of papers, and only when she found the signatures on the last page did it slowly dawn on her what she was reading. Anna and Kevin Perry's prenuptial agreement!

Her eyes scanned down, and Jacqui found a section circled and marked with an arrow, with notations from a lawyer. Until August 26th, the lawyer had scribbled in the margin.

The circled clause stipulated that if Kevin and Anna were married for less than five years, Anna wouldn't receive a penny in the event of a divorce. In New York, it was called the "Trump clause"--after Donald Trump, who'd famously ditched Maria

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Maples a month before their five-year anniversary so that he wouldn't be required to give her a bigger settlement. If Anna was able to stick it out beyond five years, she got half of everything, but if the marriage ended before they made it to the five-year mark, she got nothing.

Jacqui felt her stomach clench. Anna was about to get Trumped!

Kevin had actually done it! She read the first paragraph-- under cause for dissolution, the lawyer had checked physical abuse and cited Anna's use of excessive force (um, an ear flick) that had led to massive trauma (i.e., broken cartilage) and physical endangerment (but it was just a little infection!).

Then the reality hit her: if the Perrys got divorced, Kevin would take the children (most of them were his), and if Anna was left broke, Jacqui would be out of a job. She wouldn't be able to complete a fifth year of high school and would have to move back to Brazil instead. No more New York, and certainly no more NYU. So much for a stress-free, careless summer. A divorce would totally suck. Not only would it render Jacqui homeless in the fall, the kids would never get over it--they'd already gone through so much when Kevin split up with his first wife.

She'd heard that Zoe had refused to speak for six months. Madison had retreated into overeating, and that was when William had begun to show symptoms of hyperactive disorder. They were finally settled in with Anna as their stepmother--what would they do when Kevin pushed her out of their lives? And

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poor Cody, who wouldn't be able to see his half brothers and sisters. Jacqui felt a pit forming in her stomach. She didn't know who she felt more sorry for--the kids or herself. Jacqui could see the kids playing happily outside through a large bay window, without a clue as to the impending destruction of their family unit.

She slipped the papers back in their envelope and walked back toward the pool, her mind a whirl. Her problem was no longer just that she hadn't gotten into college--now she would have to fight just to keep her life afloat. Jacqui took a deep breath. Thankfully, she'd always been a strong swimmer.

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mara is big green with envy