How to Marry Your Frenemy - London Casey Page 0,105
In silence. If he tries to make any noise, it’ll blow up in his face worse than anything he can imagine.”
“That’s why I wanted you and your guys on it, Cole,” I said.
“I can’t believe this shit,” Liam said. “What a prick. All those years. Lying. Cheating. Stealing. He fucked you over, Jackson.”
“I knew all along,” I said. “I just thought I would eventually get the company myself and I could fix it. My father taught me how to work hard and sometimes stay in silence. I shouldn’t have stayed in silence for this long.”
“At least you got a wife out of it,” Lincoln said with a grin.
“Not so fast there,” I said. I patted my bag. “I’ve got the divorce papers right here to have signed.”
“I don’t get that,” Liam said. “You’re going to get divorced but stay together? How does that work?”
“This was all fake, Liam,” I said. “We want to start over. When the time comes to get married again, we will.”
“I still don’t get it,” Liam said.
“You’re just jealous Jackson got married and divorced before you could even convince Miranda to pick a date,” Cole said.
I stepped back and put my hands up. “Look. I didn’t say it this time.”
“Fuck you all,” Liam said.
“Drinks tonight?” Lincoln asked.
“Tomorrow,” I said.
“Busy night with Callie?” Cole asked.
“Well, we are getting divorced. I should be there for her. She might cry.”
“You’re thinking about divorce sex already,” Liam said.
“Of course I am,” I said. “What’s life without sex?”
“Liam’s life,” Cole said. “He’s not getting laid.”
“What the hell is your problem?” Liam asked.
We all started to laugh.
Liam got a ride and left.
I thanked Cole again for helping me with Vince.
After hearing what Vince really did to Callie. And comparing that to what he told me… it was time to dig around. Long story short - Vince was a thief. He’d been lying, cheating, and stealing for years. Not just the company my father started either. He wasn’t going to have one hammer hit him.
He was going to have the whole fucking hardware store come crashing down on him.
And I didn’t feel bad about it for one second.
When Cole and Lincoln split, I got myself a ride and sat in the backseat with my hand on the bag.
Life was a fucked-up mess sometimes.
I was going home to get a divorce from Callie.
Callie came through the door and stuck her tongue out at me.
“Tell me that wasn’t the longest day ever…”
“Not for me,” I said.
“You barely work,” she said.
“I’m sorry?” I asked. “I’m running a new company.”
“We are running a new company,” she said as she walked to the fridge and got herself a beer.
“You weren’t there today.”
“I had to help Mom.”
“Exactly.”
She turned and curled her lip. “Don’t be a dick.”
“Too late, sweetie.”
“I’ll have you know, I have things worked out now.”
“How?” I asked.
“Misha is working for the shop.”
“And for us?” I asked.
“She wants the work,” Callie said. “Her student loans are killing her.”
“Tell you what,” I said. “We get this thing off the ground and as a Christmas present, we pay off Misha’s loans. Don’t tell her either.”
“Wow. That’s really nice to suggest. Something going on between you two?”
“Misha? Me? Yeah. I thought you knew.”
“Jackson,” Callie growled.
“What?” I asked. “Those glasses…” I groaned. “You know I love making a mess of those glasses…”
Callie pointed at me. “Watch yourself. You sound like your uncle.”
“Oh, ouch,” I said. “That was cold.”
She shrugged her shoulders.
She took a step and I grabbed her by the waist.
I kissed her like a woman with her beauty should be kissed.
And we didn’t do those fucking stupid pecks. I wasn’t out to kiss my aunt here.
This was my girl. This was my woman.
This was the one I loved.
I kissed her to remind her of that.
Our kisses were minimum one minute long.
No matter where we were either.
I tasted her mouth and she groaned into mine.
“Hey,” I said, breaking the kiss. “It’s time to get divorced.”
“Oh, okay,” she said. “Cool.”
I got the papers out and put them on the counter.
“You first,” I said.
“Hell no,” she said. “You go first.”
“Callie, come on…”
“What?” she asked. “Why can’t you sign them?”
“I don’t know. Ladies before gentlemen.”
“Oh, screw that,” she said. “Sign them.”
“You don’t want to sign them.”
“Says who?”
“Me,” I said. “You want me to go first… so you could throw it in my face later. When we’re fighting about something, you’ll say ‘you signed the divorce papers first…’”
Callie scoffed. “Do you really think I’m that cruel?”