The B Girls - By Cari Cole Page 0,12

it's stress." Seemed as good an excuse as any.

"Stress? You expect me to tell a man who's worth a few hundred thousand dollars a year in business that you turned into a foul-mouthed shrew because of stress?"

Jane had intended to play the humble penitent. To throw herself on the mercy of the court of Norm. Right up until the word shrew came out of his mouth. She didn't do humble well. "Tell him whatever you want. If you're not going to fire me, I'm taking a month off."

"You're fired."

Jane pushed the button to end the call without replying.

"It's official," she said, peering into her tank of very expensive--and very beautiful--saltwater fish, "I've just flushed fifteen years of work down the toilet."

The fish weren't impressed. Little did they know, fish food would be the first thing to be sacrificed to the budget gods if she didn't find a new job. Herbie, Gracie and their little friends just might wind up in some doctor's reception room.

She made a note to call the fish sitter tomorrow.

###

Within five minutes of Jane and Mae leaving, Lucy's bag was packed and sitting by the front door.

She didn't have anyone to answer to and she didn't worry about her wardrobe while she packed. Her idea of casual wear consisted of jeans, the odd pair of khaki shorts and whatever shirt came to hand.

She went back upstairs to a spare bedroom she'd turned into a serene, uncluttered space for meditation, lit a candle and lowered herself into a half-lotus.

This is what she should have done yesterday instead of shooting up the fish or drinking that awful boxed wine. Which probably said something profound about the state of her spiritual life.

She focused on the candle flame and started counting her breaths. She only made it to three before her mind started to skitter and jump around. Divorce. How is Ryan doing at school? Has he eaten anything except pizza? What lawyer is Gary planning to hire? What mystery could Belle be talking about?

Lucy shook her head in disgust. Classic case of monkey mind.

She focused on the candle again and started counting.

When she got to five, the doorbell gonged through the house.

Dammit!

She unfolded herself and went to see who felt the need to ring on a Sunday.

###

Lucy looked through the peephole in her front door at the stranger standing on her porch. The man was decently dressed but for the first time in her life, Lucy was hesitant to open her door.

The reality of living in this big house alone smacked her in the face and she realized if he were some sort of nutcase, she was screwed.

The man glanced from side to side, no doubt checking to see if there was any movement inside. He knocked again.

Lucy told herself to stop being ridiculous, turned the deadbolt and opened the door with a polite smile pasted on her face. "Yes?"

The man didn't smile back.

Before Lucy could think better of things and close the door in his face, he asked, "Lucy Deen?"

"Yes."

"I have delivery for you," he said and held out a thick legal sized envelope she hadn't noticed.

She took the envelope and now the man smiled. "Have a nice day." He turned and left without waiting for a response.

Lucy closed and locked the door before opening the envelope. Just like in the movies, she found herself staring at a set of legal documents stapled to a piece of blue card stock.

"Petition for Divorce," she read and blinked in disbelief.

Gary walked out yesterday and had her served with divorce papers today? Sunday? Who the hell has legal papers served up on a Sunday afternoon?

Apparently a man who'd been planning his departure for some time. A man who was hoping to keep her off balance and vulnerable to whatever dirty tricks he and his lawyer were planning.

Whatever hurt still lingered after Gary walked out yesterday burned away in white hot anger at the utter contempt he'd just demonstrated for her, their marriage and her feelings.

Lucy vowed to find the most vicious lawyer in all of Metro Atlanta.

Gary Deen had just made a huge mistake.

And They're Off

Lucy tossed her bag into the back of Mae's van and climbed into the front passenger seat waving the divorce papers. "The rat bastard already filed for divorce. He had me served today."

Mae and Jane made properly horrified noises.

"You're going to make him pay aren't you?" Jane asked.

"Oh yeah. But I don't want to talk about it any more for now."

"I don't blame you," Mae said. "Chip