Totlandia: The Onesies, Book 1 (Fall) (12 page)

Best of all, she’d be strong enough that she’d never question his love for her.

And his money wouldn’t matter.

That person could never be Jade. As much as he’d once hoped that could be the case, he’d found out the hard way that it wasn’t.

And Oliver had almost paid the ultimate price for her thoughtlessness.

Jade was always filled with doubts. Jade never acted; she reacted, and her instincts were wrong. Always.

“I’m out of here.” She brushed Oliver’s curls with her lips, then practically tossed him to Brady so she could grab her bag and head for the door.

What the fuck?
 
No, he couldn’t let her go.

With Oliver in tow, he started after her.

She was almost through the foyer before he was close enough to grab her arm. He yanked her to his side. They stood there, face to face, staring at each other over Oliver’s head—

Until he kissed her.

The more she resisted, the harder he got.

He hadn’t understood how desperate Jade was to be a part of his life, too—

Until she put her hand on his dick.

At her touch, he almost exploded.

***

Brady held tight to Oliver as Jade undid his belt. Then, she took him in hand. Her fingers caressed him slowly at first, but soon they clenched him tighter, pumped him quicker. With each stroke he groaned and rocked their son in his arms. Oliver gurgled, as if it were all some game.

He was right about that.

And she’d won when Brady slumped into her arms.

Within the tight cocoon of their group hug, Jade felt the rapid thumping of Brady’s heart. Oliver’s was beating even faster.

But hers had to be pounding the loudest. Her love for Oliver knew no bounds. But neither did her love for Brady. She’d called his bluff, and it had paid off.

She’d been doing that to men all her life.

She would not be sleeping in the in-law suite.

7:48 a.m.

She was dreaming about Scott again.

It was practically the same dream that always haunted Jillian right before she woke up: they were both still in college, and he’d skipped class one morning so they could linger in bed after sex. Back then their lovemaking was furtive, as if every second were precious. Really it was, since his classes were on an earlier schedule than her waitressing shifts.

In the dream, Scott’s kisses had just given way to penetration with his very large thumb and forefinger. Jillian could feel herself getting wetter, and he seemed to grow large in her hand. She whispered in his ear that he should come inside her
 
NOW! OH PLEASE NOW.
 
He nodded and heaved himself over her. He was huge and hard when he entered her. So huge that she moaned in pain—

In joy.

And then her cell phone buzzed.

She was so shocked to hear it, she fell out of bed with a thump.

“Mama up up! Mama up up!” The twins squealed in unison.

As she sat there on the floor, her eyes moved upward toward the bed—no Scott, of course.

Just that damn buzzing phone on the nightstand.

“Who is it?” She wondered if the shame she felt emanated through the ethersphere that enveloped all 21st Century technology.

“The judicial hearing takes place this morning, at eleven o’clock.” It was Jillian’s attorney, Lutz. “Sorry for such short notice, but they rang my assistant at five yesterday to say they had an opening. Considering your financial status, she was sure you’d want us to take it.”

“Yes! Of course.” Lutz’s prediction in that very first meeting had been right. Before Jillian could stop him, Scott had wiped out all of their joint checking and savings accounts and had cancelled all the credit cards.

With each unanswered call by her soon-to-be ex husband, Jillian had gotten more anxious.

Well, now it was time to see what the courts could do about it.

“Glad you’re game, Jillian. Now, to make our point that you need money as soon as possible, I’d suggest you show up with your kids.”

She pulled the cell phone away from her ear, as if staring at it might make Lutz, and the divorce, and Victoria, all go away…

And Scott would come back to her. Wishful thinking.

Her lust for Scott dissipated in the sun’s bright glare emanating through the bedroom window. “But—but I can’t today! We’ve got our mom-and-tots group meeting—”

“You’re kidding me, right? You’d ruin your chance at child support and alimony, for a play date?
 
Lady, this is your children’s future
!”

He was right.

Bettina would just have to understand.

But no, Bettina would not understand. Bettina would make her leave the club.

“I—I get it. I’ll be there.” She hung up, then went to her bookshelf and found the PHM&T manual she’d received at the inaugural meet-up and turned to the page marked EMERGENCIES, where Bettina’s phone number was listed. Her hand was trembling as she punched the numbers into her cell.

“Yes?” Bettina’s voice was curt.

“Hi, Bettina, it’s Jillian Frederick, in the Onesies. I am so sorry, but Addison, Amelia, and I won’t be at meet-up today—”

“Oh?”

That one word syllable was all it took for Jillian to lose her cool. “Yes! Well…you see, we—the girls are…
sick!
”

“Oh.” Bettina’s silence seemed to go on forever. “Well then, I commend you for keeping them home. The manual clearly states that the sick and infirm are not, under any circumstances, to attend. The last thing the club would want is a pandemic on its hands.”

Jillian nodded vigorously at the phone. “Yep, for sure.”

“Is what they have infectious?”

Bettina’s question caught her off-guard. “What? Oh, yes! But I’m sure they’ll be tip-top by Monday’s meet-up.”

“Good. In the interim, scrub them vigorously.”

With a click, Jillian was off the hook.

11:06 a.m.

“What is
 
she
 
doing here?” Jillian hissed at her attorney, then nodded toward Scott’s definitely pregnant assistant, Victoria.

Lutz shrugged. “Moral support.”

“Moral what?” Jillian’s voice was so loud, he had to shush her. “You mean
 
‘immoral support’
, don’t you?”

“Call it what you will. He’s trying to make a point.”

“Yeah, I get it. The point is that he knocked her up, and he’d rather be with her.” Jillian shifted her head away from the twins, so they wouldn’t see her cry.

Amelia and Addison had spotted Scott, too, because they squealed, “Da da!
 
Dadadadadada!
”

Instinctively, he waved at them, but seeing Jillian’s glower, he turned his head in shame.

Good, Jillian thought. Stay away from us. And keep her away, too…

As if reading her mind, Scott smirked, stood up, and walked over.

But when he tried to pick up Addison, Jillian slapped his hand away. “Don’t even think about it.” Her voice trembled, but he shrank away at the threat.

“All rise,” the bailiff shouted.

Jillian looked up to see the judge had witnessed it all.

Including the girls crying for their father.

She sank into her chair, praying.

1:08 p.m.

It’s over, Jillian thought. For good. Just like that.

She’d been with Scott since their second year in college. She’d dropped out in her senior year in order to support him when his family had abandoned him.

They’d been a team through thin and thin. Team Scott and Jillian.

No, it now hit her:
 
it had only been Team Scott.

Throughout the proceedings, his eyes went from the judge, or to Victoria.

Never to Jillian.

At the best time possible—for
 
him
—he had glanced longingly at the children: that time being when his attorney had asked for joint custody.

The twins hadn’t made it easy for Jillian to make her case for sole custody. Despite holding them both in her lap, they had squirmed and cried. At one point, Amelia had shouted, “Dada!” More of a command than a question.

At Jillian’s behest, Lutz had pointed out, “Your honor, Mr. Frederick works long hours, and practically seven days a week. The point is not to leave the children with a nanny, but to ensure they have their mother.”

“What will happen when their mother goes to work?” Scott’s lawyer countered.

I wouldn’t have to, if Scott did the right thing, Jillian thought.

I wouldn’t have to, if we weren’t going through this hell…

The judge wavered—too long, in Jillian’s opinion—before shaking her head and mandating an every-other-weekend edict instead.

Then, with a clack of a gavel, it was over:

Life as Jillian knew it. The life she thought they both wanted.

Now she knew better.

***

Afterward, Lutz explained to her that Scott’s request for joint custody was a typical ploy. “He figures the more he sees of them, the less he’ll have to pay out.”

Jillian shook her head in anger—at herself, mostly. “I guess it worked. The judge gave him every other weekend! Not only that, but she mandated he pay me only four thousand dollars a month—despite the fact he makes almost half a million dollars a year! That’s a pittance for him, but it’s only the equivalent of the mortgage note on the house. That means I’ll have to come up with the rest: for the utilities, food, clothing, and property taxes. Not to mention childcare, since it’s obvious I’ll have to start working again.”

Lutz shrugged. “It’s a temporary mandate. And don’t forget, she ordered him to turn over half of everything that was in your checking and savings accounts.”

“There wasn’t much there. Only a few hundred.”

“I’m guessing he was planning this for a while and stashed the brunt of his savings in a few accounts you know nothing about.”

As pragmatic as Scott was, she guessed Lutz was right.

Still, there was a part of her that hoped he’d come to his senses. It had to be obvious to him how much the girls were missing him. Maybe he truly missed them, too.

Maybe she’d been too hasty to slap his hand away.

She had been stupid to let him walk away without a fight.

This whole thing is one big misunderstanding that has snowballed out of control, Jillian reasoned. Perhaps if we met and talked things through—

I can convince him to change his mind.

And he’ll come home.

Now that she’d calmed down, she could control her anger. She could openly discuss with him whatever it was that drove him away and into Victoria’s clinging arms.

Even if it meant going to the whore’s apartment to do so.

She found the address online: a Russian Hill high-rise co-op.

7:22 p.m.

Since she couldn’t afford a babysitter, she had begged Clarisse to take them that night. “This thing at Scott’s firm came up at the last minute, and I can’t find a babysitter to save my life. If you take them tonight, I’ll take Travis for you twice. Deal?”

Clarisse gave her a funny look. “I heard you missed your Onesies meet-up because the girls are sick. If that’s the case, I don’t think I should expose Travis to whatever they have.”

“No need to worry. In fact, the doctor gave them a clean bill of health just this morning.”

Jillian held her breath as Clarisse processed her response.

“Well...I guess it can’t hurt. Okay, I’ve got them covered. You two have fun.”

Fun.

Yessirree, ringing all the security buzzers in the whore’s building until one of her neighbors let her in was a blast.

As was slipping into the elevator and up to the penthouse floor, where Victoria lived. With Scott.

And knocking politely was certainly worth a chuckle.

“What do you want?” Victoria’s wary voice carried through the door.

That was expected, since Jillian was standing directly in front of the peephole. “I have to speak to my husband.”

Silence. Forever, silence.

“Scott, I know you’re in there!” Jillian hadn’t meant to raise her voice, but she couldn’t stop herself. “I saw your car parked down the street.”

“Jillian, just…just go away.” Scott’s voice hit her like a wall of contempt.

Go away? Just like that?

She smacked the door with her fist. “Of course I’m not going away! We need to talk about what’s really going on here, Scott.”