Chapter 4

After the welcome dinner, I thought things would finally settle down.

After all, Julia had promised to keep things under wraps, and I was keeping a low profile.

If I kept my distance and didn't say much, this whole thing would be nothing more than a minor detour in my life.

That was the plan, at least.

But reality body slammed me and didn't hold back.

Here's what happened.

On Wednesday morning, I was at my desk, tweaking a project plan.

Frank suddenly slapped me on the back. "Henry, there's a middle-aged woman downstairs in the lobby. She's dressed to the nines and says she's here to see Ms. Sinclair."

I mumbled a quick "yeah," barely paying attention.

Julia had a lot of business contacts, so it was nothing unusual for someone to drop by.

Frank added, "But when the receptionist asks her name, she says she's Mrs. Sinclair, Ms. Sinclair's mom."

My hand froze on the keyboard.

Frank kept going, "Can you even imagine what kind of big shot Ms. Sinclair's mom must be? The presence she has, I'm telling you..."

I tuned out before he finished.

Frank jumped. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to the bathroom," I said.

Then I bolted out of the office at a speed that was way too fast for a normal bathroom break.

But I wasn't heading for the bathroom.

I was heading for the fire escape.

Lane Sinclair, Julia's mom. My ex-mother-in-law.

When Julia and I got divorced, Lane was the one who took it the hardest.

It wasn't because she was especially fond of me at first, she was totally against our marriage, thinking I was too broke for her daughter.

But after three years, for some reason, she started to like me.

The day we signed the divorce papers, Lane called me four times, practically begging me to reconsider each time.

The fifth call was Lane tearing into Julia over the phone.

So now, if I could avoid running into her, I'd do everything I could to stay out of her way.

It wasn't that I was scared of her. It's what she might say that freaked me out.

Lane was the kind of person who, when she got excited, could make sure the whole floor knew about my history with Julia.

I hid out in the fire escape on the eighteenth floor, squatting on the stairs, and pulled out my phone to text Julia.

Henry: [Your mom's here. Can you deal with it?]

Thirty seconds later, her reply popped up:[ Got it.]

Ten seconds after that:[ Where are you hiding?]

Henry: [Fire escape.]

Julia: [Don't come out.]