Stitches
I roll my eyes and shrug his hand off. “Don’t be an asshole.”
“You give me that advice a lot,” he says, straightening.
“You should heed it one of these times.”
“But then what would we talk about?” he asks, lightly.
“Business? Baseball? The woman we’re sharing?”
Seb rolls his eyes. “You know I don’t give a fuck about baseball. I’ll just keep being an asshole so we always have that fall back on.”
I nod once, eyes on the monitor. “Great, you do that, I’ll plan my own date; everybody wins.”
“What’d the lawyer say?” he asks, dropping into the chair on the other side of the desk.
That bullshit is the last thing I want to think about right now. “Ashley’s stalling, trying to put off the inevitable. Nothing to worry about.”
“I don’t want to rain on your parade, but you know the terms of your prenup better than I do. Do you think it’s a good idea to go out with Moira right now? Might be smarter to stay in just until you get the papers signed.”
A scowl transforms my face. “What do you mean by that?”
He lifts his eyebrows. “I mean, if Ashley is looking for ways to bleed you for more money, could she fuck you over with the infidelity clause? You’re still legally married until she signs the papers.”
I look up at him, my eyes widening with fucking indignation. “The infidelity clause? I wasn’t unfaithful. She was. She’s the one who fucked three other men while we were married. Now we’re separated.”
“But separated isn’t divorced. You know I’m on your side here; I’m just trying to look out for our best interest, that’s all. I’m obviously not saying you’re actually doing anything wrong, I’m just saying if she’s looking for dirt on you, maybe don’t take Moira out tonight to some swanky place that Ashley’s friends go to.”
“It’s public knowledge Moira and I are friends. We’ve been seen together plenty.”
“You have, but usually not without me and at the kind of restaurant you only take a woman you want to fuck. Let’s be real here, as good as it might be, you’re not going for the chocolate soufflé.”
I dismiss his concern. “We’ve been places without you.”
“Not like this,” he states. “You have plenty of time to take Moira out after the ink is dry on your divorce papers. Why don’t you stay in until then, just to be safe? I won’t be home tonight. Moira can make you dinner; you’ll still have a night to yourself. Or get takeout, but something you would’ve done when you were just friends—get tacos or Chinese. Don’t go the whole nine yards until it can’t be used against you. When the divorce goes through, you can take Moira out and pay $70 for a dessert if that’s what makes you happy, but wait. What’s the rush?”
“Nah, fuck that. I’m not going to let Ashley dictate how I do this.”
Naturally, Seb does not back down. “Why don’t you talk to your lawyer about it first? For me. It’ll set my mind at ease. You do own half of everything I own, after all. If your whore ex-wife gets the ammunition to take you to the cleaners, it’s going to be inconvenient for me, too.”
I shake my head, tapping the link to make a reservation. “Never should have fucking married her. Why didn’t you talk me out of that?”
Seb shrugs and crosses his arms. “Thought you were happy. Didn’t have all the information. You should’ve just told me you wanted Moira back then, could’ve saved us a lot of time and trouble.”
“Well, I kinda figured that would be the end of our friendship,” I point out. “I still don’t know how you’re so cool with this.”
“It’s all in how you look at it,” he assures me. “What I’m getting out of it is worth what I have to invest.”
“This isn’t a business deal.”
“Everything’s a business deal, Griff.” He pushes up off the chair, nodding his head at me. “Including your divorce. You need to call your lawyer and make sure you’re not going to get fucked if Ashley finds out about you and Moira.”
“You know how you said you weren’t trying to rain on my parade?” I ask.
He smiles faintly, heading for the door. “Next time I’ll bring an umbrella.”
10
Griff