UNINVITED

Chapter 22

Pressing the phone to his ear, Tom took out the burnt bread from the toaster and winced at the sight of it. He’d ruined the last one of them. Not good. He added it to the pile on the plate that he’d burned. He wished Elodie was here. He had never been good at domestic chores. After Elodie had left, he had been fixing himself breakfast and tidying up the place. The cleaning agency he contacted a couple of days ago would start today, and he had decided against getting a housemaid to cook for him. Deep down, he knew Elodie would come back. At the moment she was angry and upset. She needed space, and he’d give her that.

     “Cancel my morning appointment with Mr. Greyson. I’ll be late,” he told his secretary over the phone, using his shoulder to prop it up.

     “But Sir—”

     He imagined the look of confusion on her face when he said it, her lips pressed together, wondering if everything was all right with him. He never canceled an appointment. Ever since Elodie left, things hadn’t been the same. The more reason he had to get her back in his life.

     “Just do it, Steph,” he snapped. “I’m not in the mood to repeat myself. What’s next on my calendar?”

     “All right, Sir. You have a board meeting at 9:00 A.M., then right after you have an appointment with Dr. Willet.”

     His face scrunched. Dark clouds of smoke emanated from the toaster and swirled into the air. He coughed. Cursing under his breath, he skittered to the window and opened the blinds. Fresh air poured in, and he inhaled. “How did Dr. Willet get on my calendar?”

     “Your Mom. She called me yesterday and told me to add it. I thought you knew.”

     Of course, it had to be Mommy dearest. She was still keen about him seeing a therapist. Clearly, she wasn’t joking. He’d have a word with her.

     “All right, Steph. I’ll see you later,” he murmured and went for the phone from his ear, then hung up and set it aside on the counter, his eyes scanning the mess he had created.

     Glancing at his watch, he checked the time. He was running late. He’d just grab coffee downtown. He sighed, took off the apron, and threw it on the chair.

     He left the kitchen and just as he neared the staircase, the doorbell rang. Who could that be? He wasn’t expecting anybody, and he hadn’t ordered anything. The postman could just throw the papers on the front porch like he always did. He didn’t need to ring the bell. The ding-dong echoed in the house again, the sound hitting his ears and adding to his fury.

     “Geez, I’m coming!” He hurried to the door and opened it.

     A tall woman in a black pantsuit with matching stilettos stared at his face. Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, accentuating her sharp forehead.

     “Good day. Are you Mr. Grant?”

     Tom’s brows creased as he opened the door wider. “Yes. Is something wrong?” When he glanced down, he saw the brown envelope she clutched in her left hand.

     “No. I’m Jane Nelson, your wife’s lawyer. Can I come in?”

     His face contorted. Elodie had already found herself a lawyer. She wasn’t joking. She was taking this way too seriously. “No.”

     “All right. I brought you the divorce papers for you to sign.” She dug into the envelope and pulled out two white papers, then stretched them toward him.

     “If you don’t understand anything, I suggest you get a lawyer, Mr. Grant.”

     Tom stared daggers at her, his fist clenching. He looked between her and the papers before taking them.

     Lifting the papers, he brought them to her face and ripped them into pieces, letting them fall to the hardwood like confetti.

     “Tell Elodie I’m not signing any papers. If she wants a divorce, she should see me first and we can talk properly.”

     Jane frowned. “You really shouldn’t have done that.”

     He smirked. “But I just did.”

     “Yeah,” she said, looking down at the pieces of paper below her feet. “Exactly what your wife said you’d do. I suggest you get a lawyer. I’ll see you again, Mr. Grant. Have a good morning,” she added and faced her car parked in the driveway, then climbed down the wooden staircase, hitting the key fob.

     Tom watched, his eyes flaring. With his clenched fist, he slammed it into the door and muttered, “You’re not going to leave me that easily, Elodie.”

     His eyes caught Jane’s as she veered the car onto the street. Tom grimaced. Elodie was getting on his nerves. She had just ruined his day.