The glass of orange juice almost slipped from her fingers. “What?”
“Not all of them. He’s going to manage one or two for his family—I think he’s getting somebody to help him run them, though—and the rest will be delegated to his associates. He’s cutting way, way back. Some of his clients left, but most of them are staying, including me. Mom’s on my case right now though, telling me it’s a great chance to dump Gavin and move my assets to her brother’s firm.”
“Good god.” She put down the glass with a thunk.
“Don’t worry, I’m not leaving. My uncle’s not that—”
“Did Gavin say why?” He no longer had a wife to consider. Granted he would have a child to deal with if he wanted—she didn’t plan to prevent him from getting to know his own flesh and blood—but she wasn’t due for months.
“Not really. But I know he’d been thinking about it even before you guys decided to make the split final. Hilary told me.”
If it came from Hilary, it had to be accurate. “Did she say what he’s going to do now?”
“Just chill is what she said.”
“Just…chill? That’s it?”
Mark nodded.
Amandine considered. “Have you seen him recently?”
“Two days ago. He came here for a working lunch with a few of his associates.”
“How did he look?”
Mark shrugged. “He looked like Gavin.”
So he wasn’t terminally ill. “I can’t believe he’s doing this. Success means so much to him.”
A waiter refilled her glass with juice and vanished.
Mark’s expression turned almost gentle. “It might have something to do with a woman named after a chocolate dessert.”
Her fingers trembled on the table.
“But hey, enough about Gavin,” he said, his voice suddenly brisk. “Let’s enjoy our dinner. It’s on me.” Mark winked as their waiter placed an appetizer of lightly fried calamari with a dipping sauce between them.
Amandine forced herself to eat a few bites, but she couldn’t taste anything. Why had Gavin agreed to the divorce without a fight? Why was he still going ahead with closing of most of his funds? With her out of the way, he was free to devote as much time as he wanted t
o his work.
She needed to talk to him.
* * *
Three hours later and back in her home, she tried to call Gavin. It went straight to voice mail.
Amandine hung up, irritated with the mechanical female voice and suddenly unsure what she’d say. She couldn’t just blurt out, “Why are you quitting?”
Her head pounded, and she felt slightly dizzy. She lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling fan. The staff still got paid and reported to work every day to keep the house in tiptop shape. The florist continued to deliver flowers, Luna still made the meals. Other than the fact that her husband was missing, the house was the way it used to be, every piece running smoothly to keep her comfortable and provided for.
Suddenly she remembered her argument with Pete, and his insistence that if their father had really cared for them, he would’ve done everything to provide a decent life. It was easy to talk about love when you didn’t have to do anything “love” required.
Gavin had done so much for her. He might not have given her that word, but did that single omission really invalidate everything else he’d done? She’d told him how angry she was about his neglect…and never given him a chance to tell her he was scaling down.
Why hadn’t he said anything?
Why would he, when you told him how unhappy he made you?