My mouth opens in surprise, but I can’t seem to find words. What does that mean? Does this apology nullify last night’s conversation? Did I spend the whole night outlining my new life for no reason? Was he just being a maudlin drunk?
He reaches over into Mia’s empty spot and grabs a manila folder, dragging it across the table and flipping it open. He briefly looks over the paperwork inside, even though he obviously already knows what’s there.
Since I don’t, I await a sign of some sort.
“I have an idea to run by you. I don’t have a lot of time this morning, Adrian is checking on a few possible leads and I need to get to it, but I wanted to touch base with you first. I want to give you the piano bar.”
“What?” I ask, shaking my head slightly. “It’s called Meg’s Place—isn’t it already mine?”
“Well, yes, I bought it for you, but it’s in my name. I want to transfer it into yours. Whether you want to keep the current management or run it yourself is completely up to you, but all revenue it brings in will be yours either way. It’s been doing quite well,” he adds, meeting my gaze and nodding slightly, like we’re in a fucking business meeting.
“Um, why? Is this an ‘I’m sorry for being an asshole’ gift, or a divorce settlement?”
His smile is pleasant, but his words are not. “We’re not married.”
My head bobs of its own accord, responding to the insult before my mouth can catch up. He spends four years reassuring me of my status, then says that. I guess I know where I stand. “Wow. Yes, that’s….” All I can think to do at this point is get his ring off my finger—not my plan, because I figured I would sell it, but I also had no idea he would give me a business. My head is spinning with all this and my hands tremble with anger as I try to get the ring off my swollen finger. It’s like a Chinese finger trap; pulling on it makes the damn thing try harder to stay on.
“There’s no reason for this to be unfriendly,” he adds, closing the manila envelope and sliding it across the table so it’s in front of me. “I’m not trying to be cruel; I just want to make sure you come out of this with something to show for it. You’re still the mother of my children and Mia’s friend; I want this to be friendly.”
I can’t help frowning as I give up trying to yank my finger off and instead open the manila folder, looking at the paperwork inside. Shaking my head as I leaf through it, I say, “I only proposed this last night. In the middle of the night. When did you have time to do all this paperwork?”
Mateo shrugs and grabs his coffee cup, lifting it to take a sip before saying, “I didn’t get much sleep.”
That’s true, but it’s not the truth. Maybe he wasn’t asleep, but the rest of the world was. He was also drunk out of his mind—not in the state of mind to do complicated paperwork. Flipping through the policies, account summaries and invoices, legal documents, I realize… he already had this prepared.
He already had this prepared.
It’s the last reaction I expect to have, but I suddenly burst into laughter.
Here I was struggling and trying to make things work, and he’s been waiting for me to give up. “Did you draft these the day I told Mia I was pregnant?”
I guess since I’m literally laughing about it, he doesn’t lie to me. “No.” After the briefest of pauses, he adds, “Later that week.”
I nod, but then I shake my head, because this man is enough to make me lose my fucking mind. “Do you have a pen? Do I sign these now? What do I do?”
He shakes his head. “I’m just giving them to you to look over. Once Mia’s home and everything gets settled, I’ll set up a meeting for you with my accountant, he can go over all the details with you so you’re as prepared as you can be. I don’t have time to deal with it right now, but in the event you don’t trust me and you want someone else to look it all over, you have time to do that now. Everything’s on the up and up, I’m not trying to screw you.”
Smirking, I leaf through the papers. “No, I know you’re not trying to screw me. We wouldn’t be in this mess if you were.”
Smiling faintly, he assures me, “It doesn’t have to be a mess. I’ll need you to change rooms, obviously, but you don’t have to leave the house. Nothing has to change for the kids. We’ll work out the details, but nothing really has to change for any of us.”