Tressa could be...alarming...at first.
“I’m not talking about the window. You’ve told her repeatedly to stay away from your house. She didn’t. That’s grounds for a restraini
ng order.”
One thing he knew was how to be patient. “She wouldn’t abide by it, Lacey. The best way to deal with Tressa is to handle her exactly as I’m doing. You’ll see. She’ll get used to the idea of me and you just like she got used to the idea of the divorce. And Levi living with me.”
“You went through this each time?”
Now she was getting it. He almost smiled. “Yes.”
“And you never even called the police?”
“Of course not.”
“Well, this is the last time, Jem. Or I’m out of your life.”
He wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. Lacey? Threatening him? She hadn’t even raised her voice.
“You are a victim of domestic abuse, Jem. I’ve been waiting for you to see that, just like you finally did with Levi, but you don’t get it. The woman comes here, puts her fist through your door, screams loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear, threatens to sue you and then to ruin my career—which she can do, you know, just by spouting her trash in the right places, or at least put doubt on my spotlessly clean record—and you plan to stand there and let her get away with it?”
“You don’t understand...” The words just kept repeating themselves in his mind, overriding anything she might have to say. “You don’t understand...”
“I’m not asking you to crucify her, Jem. I’m asking you to think of yourself. Of Levi. Of our future. You need to call the police. Even if you don’t want to file a restraining order, at least there’s evidence of what happened here tonight, of her threats, so that if she does try something, we’ve got protection.”
“But...”
“I need this, Jem,” she said. That look of hers...it sank into him. As deep as he went. “I need you to call the police. For me. That way if she does try to threaten my career, I’ll have the means to protect myself.”
“She could go to jail...”
“If she does, it would only be for one night.”
And that one night would unleash a hurricane...
“You don’t understand, Lacey.”
“I do understand, Jem. And I’m telling you. This isn’t negotiable. I need you to call the police, or I have to end my association with you.”
“You’re threatening me.” Tressa was a master at it.
“No, I’m telling you you’ve put me in a position where I have to make a choice. If you can’t stand behind me, protect me, then I have to go.”
One thing he’d learned, well, at the hands of his sister and Tressa, was that the minute he gave in to a threat, he gave up himself. He pulled his keys out of his pocket.
“Take my truck. I’ll be by for it in the morning.”
He expected her to pretend to go. Even to collect her purse and head out the door. When his truck started, he gave her marks for trying.
It wasn’t until his truck had been gone for more than an hour that he realized the truth. She wasn’t coming back.
* * *
LACEY HAD THREE weeks of vacation coming to her. On Sunday, when she was already on her way to Beverly Hills, she made an emergency call to arrange to have the next week off. She’d had to get out of town and home to Kacey. Had to have some distance from the worst night of her life. To figure out where to find the rest of her life.
She knew she was running and admitted it fully. To herself. To Kacey.
Her sister, for once, didn’t tell Lacey to look on the bright side. Her words “He actually chose to put her first over you?” still rang in Lacey’s mind.