“It’s just orange juice.”
“Nothing is ever just. Yesterday, I didn’t have orange juice. Today, I do. I’m grateful.”
She smiled up at me and my chest hurt.
“Wait a minute. Why did you bring me groceries?”
I fought the urge to kiss her furrowed brow. “There’s leftover pizza, too. And cereal in the pantry. There’s also bacon and eggs in the fridge. What would you like for breakfast?”
She studied me for a moment and then grinned. “I’m choosing to be thankful and not suspicious. Bacon and eggs sound amazing.” She waved me away. “You sit. I’ll cook.”
“Deal.” I sat at her table and watched her work. I should have been driving home to shower and change, but I stayed. Being with her settled something inside me.
Her phone rang. She looked at it warily, let it ring again and then straightened, walked across the kitchen and picked it up. “Hello?”
Her body relaxed. She leaned on the counter and chatted, answering questions. Whoever she was talking to, it wasn’t the caller she was worried about.
“Um, he never told—oh! Try Tesla. See if that works. His passwords used to always be cars. I remember him saying that when we were dating. He’s green with envy that another broker recently purchased a new Tesla.” She rolled her eyes at whatever was said. “Yeah, he said his preliminary estimate is one and a half million.” She paused. “What about our house there? Is there an estimate on it?” Her face hardened as she listened. “When did he do it? Conveniently timed, the rat bastard. Oh, check his mom’s accounts. He’s hidden money there before. He has power of attorney for her. Can they do that, follow the money?” She laughed. “Finally, being an asshole will bite him in the butt. Yeah, let me know. Okay. Thanks.” She hung up.
“What was that?”
She hopped up on the counter. “Justin, my ex, is claiming that he mortgaged the house and lost all the money in a bad investment. Of course, he didn’t take out that loan until the day I left him. I don’t know. My lawyer has auditors working on it. She says there’s an account in my name that I have no knowledge of. I gave her a possible password to access it. He never told me any of this stuff directly, but I’ve picked up bits and pieces over the years. His mom is in a retirement community, and I know he’s shuffled funds into her account in the past to avoid taxes or penalties or whatever. He’s probably doing it again.”
She hopped down and went back to making breakfast. “This is his area of expertise, money management. I hope her auditors are good.”
Tapping the table, I tried to talk myself out of getting involved. “I know a guy. Reformed computer hacker. I worked with him a few times. Good guy. I can call him to see if he’d help.”
“Why would he? For that matter, why would you?” She genuinely seemed befuddled by my kindness.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Watching the play of emotion on her face, I realized that I could get used to this. Very easily and very happily.
She went back to cooking but kept glancing at me over her shoulder. “Last time I checked,” she said to the frying pan, “you didn’t like me. You keep kissing me, so you must at least be attracted, but you don’t like me. So, why the food and the help?”
“I like you just fine. Quite a bit, actually.”
She turned back to me. “Yeah?”
Nodding, I watched her lips part and her cheeks blaze.
She spun back around. “Oh.”
Before I left Katie’s place a little while later, my stomach full, I copied down her lawyer’s number. I called Brian, the reformed hacker, as I drove home to shower and get ready for work. Brian’s dad had screwed over his mom when he was little. I was sure he’d be more than happy to catch another man trying to cheat his wife. These kinds of cases rarely took him more than a couple of hours.
It’s funny. We think our financial information is so secure, but all it takes is a computer genius like Brian and our lives are open for dissection.
After a quick chat, Brian promised to contact Katie’s lawyer with what he found.
Feeling as though I was finally doing something positive, after a year of being a grumpy bastard, I got ready for work. Maybe I’d get a hot dog for lunch today.
Kate
Brian was a genius! He sent my lawyer an email with all Justin’s financial info, all his secret accounts and illegal deals. Apparently, it only took Brian one afternoon to find everything. Once Jean had that, Justin buckled like wet cardboard. Nary a week later, Gran’s house was mine and I had money in a bank account. All the legal stuff would still take time to go through, but agreements were made and funds were transferred. I was feeling positively optimistic!
I had my feet under me with the food truck. Customers were coming back and bringing friends. Aiden had been stopping by the truck every afternoon for lunch. I teased him about his questionable dietary habits, but a thrill raced through me every time I looked up and found him waiting for me.
Now that I had some money, I needed a bed, maybe a dresser. A phone! Another pair of jeans. The list spiraled out of control in my head. It was too much.
One thing at a time. I wanted a bed. I needed to focus on that one room. Bed, dresser, curtains, dog bed. Paint! Yes, I could paint the room any color I wanted. Once that was decided, I spent the afternoon daydreaming about beds and wall colors while I cooked and served hot dogs. It made for a lovely diversion.
