“I would have if I’d had any warning,” Candra said. Her voice was wretched. “One day we were fine, then we had that argument and the next day he filed for divorce. I didn’t have time to do anything to protect myself.”
The time to protect yourself, in Olivia’s opinion, was while everything was still fine. The point was moot, the water long since passed under the bridge. She wondered what the argument had been about; Candra had never said, but it must have been total war, to have triggered such an abrupt and final break. Whatever the reason, in their meetings Richard had been cold, ruthlessly controlled, and absolutely unyielding. He hadn’t compromised on a single issue, and now he was taking an even more hard-ass position.
“I’ll talk to him,” Candra said. She sounded on the verge of tears.
“Candra . . .” Olivia sighed. “What good can it do? Name one tiny detail he’s budged on. Sign the papers, before you lose another ten thousand.”
“I’ll get him to reinstate that ten thousand. I’ll—I’ll promise to sign the papers if he does.”
Candra hung up and closed her eyes. She felt sick to her stomach, so ill she thought she might actually throw up. A year ago ten thousand had seemed like pocket change to her, but now it was essential. She hadn’t heard from Carson, but then she hadn’t expected to so soon. Blackmail wasn’t a sure thing, and until Carson came through with the money, she couldn’t afford to let a penny slip away. After all, what could she do if he refused to pay blackmail? Making the photos public would ruin his career, perhaps even initiate a criminal investigation because of the drug use, but that wouldn’t put any money in her pocket. It would, in fact, totally negate that threat. Her only hope was that he feared exposure enough to pay the money.
God, what had set Richard off? When he had come to the gallery two days before, he had been as cold and stubborn as ever, but though he had tried to convince her to sign the papers then, he hadn’t issued any threats. She didn’t have any choice about signing, of course, not now. Why hadn’t he done this then?
He had to have a reason. Richard always had a reason. He was the least emotional, most logical person she had ever met, something that had made her feel very secure when they were married. No matter what, she had always been able to count on Richard to figure out the best way to handle any situation.
This ultimatum wasn’t a bluff; he would do exactly what he said. He wanted the papers signed and the divorce expedited. The question was: Why now? Why not two days ago, or two months ago? He could have done this at any time and the outcome would have been the same.
He had an urgent reason now, one that he hadn’t had two days before. It had to be a woman. Just because she hadn’t found out about any women he’d had since they separated didn’t mean he’d been living like a monk. She knew Richard’s sexual appetite, and she also knew women automatically gravitated to him, as if he gave off subliminal signals that said he liked it slow, and often. He also held some ridiculously old-fashioned opinions; if he had accidentally gotten some woman pregnant, he would insist on marrying her. That was another thing she knew about Richard, she thought bitterly: He didn’t take a pregnancy lightly.
On the other hand, neither did he tend to repeat his mistakes. Accidents happened, but he would be doubly careful now.
No, more than likely he was interested in another woman. Candra thought of someone taking her place, sleeping in her bed, waking up with Richard, eating breakfast with him, and she wanted to scream. She would have done anything to be able to turn back the clock, undo this past year, but she couldn’t and she had to stop wasting time with useless regrets. She had to think.
Sweeney. Of course!
A flash of intuition told her she was right. She hadn’t been wrong about that flare of attraction, or the way Richard had stared at Sweeney. Maybe Sweeney was oblivious to Richard—if any woman could be, Sweeney was that woman—but that didn’t mean he was oblivious to her. On the contrary, he would enjoy the challenge of enticing her into a relationship.
Candra could work this to her advantage. She knew she could.
“You’re plotting something,” Kai said, coming into her office without knocking. She frowned; he was becoming entirely too cocky. She would have to trim his wings soon.
On the other hand, at least she could talk to him. “I think I was right about Richard and Sweeney. All of a sudden he’s in a hurry to finalize the divorce.”
“He’s agreed to your terms?” Kai’s eyes glittered. The thought of money did that to him.
“No, he’s still playing hardball, but now I think I can at least get in the game.”
“You’re playing with fire,” he warned. “Richard won’t tolerate threats.”
“Then he shouldn’t make them,” she snapped.
“Oh? What threats has he made?”
“Never mind.” Kai didn’t know Richard owned the gallery. If he did, he might well quit on the spot and leave her in the lurch. She had no illusions about his loyalty. He was, however, a valuable asset; many of her female clientele were blunt about his attractions and abilities.
“What are you going to do?”
“Talk to him.” Rising, Candra picked up her expensive leather tote that doubled as briefcase and purse. Luckily she hadn’t gone home to change; she was still wearing the conservative suit she had worn to D.C. that morning. She would take any edge she could get, no matter how tiny.
“Why not just call?” Kai suggested.