Imperfectly Delicious (Imperfect Series #6) - Mary Frame Page 0,59

that control and power to control the message they want to deliver.

–Steve Chen

Guy

I’ve haven’t even pulled the glasses down when the door sweeps open. “That was fast. I hope you brought me one of the douche nougat—” I turn around, expecting to see Scarlett, but it’s not.

It’s, “Marie?” Standing in my kitchen like she thinks she belongs there. She takes off her coat and lays it on the counter.

“Who were you expecting, that woman in your chef jacket? You’ve taken to bringing conquests here, huh? Too crowded at home, I expect. So. Who is she?”

I don’t bother answering her questions. It’s none of her business, although it rankles to hear her call Scarlett that woman, when she’s so much more. And conquests? She has no idea. “What are you doing here, Marie?”

“I’m not allowed to stop in and see my husband?”

“You and I both know it’s in name only.”

As soon as the words leave my lips, something just outside pings and then crashes against the floor.

Marie smirks and opens the door to reveal Scarlett, who is holding my chef’s jacket in one arm and clutching at a painting, which appears to have fallen off the wall.

“Scarlett?” Her face is red, and she won’t meet my eyes.

Panic thumps through me.

I’m sure she heard most of our conversation and I want to punch myself in the face. I should have told her the truth sooner. Of course, Marie ran into her on the way in and did her best to set up the dice to fall for this exact outcome.

Scarlett is attempting to put the picture back on the wall. “Sorry, I was just…ah, bringing back your jacket and I need my keys. But then I ran into the wall but . . .” She struggles to lift the piece back onto the hanger, but she can’t reach the hook.

I move toward her, “You don’t have to—” but before I can reach her, she leans it carefully against the wall on the floor.

“Never mind. I’ll get out of your hair. You guys probably have a lot to talk about.” She steps back and turns but nearly runs into the wall again.

“No…wait.” I glare at Marie. “Stay here, please.” I go out the door, shutting it behind me, taking Scarlett’s elbow and leading her away a bit in case Marie is listening. Of course, she’s listening.

Scarlett steps out of my grip and gazes up at me, big dark blue eyes haunted. The pain in her eyes is a straight stab to the gut. “You’re still married.”

I rub the back of my neck. “Technically, yes.”

Her arms cross over her chest and her eyes skitter to the side.

“But only because the State of New York won’t accept divorce papers by reason of abandonment until a year has passed,” I add quickly. “And it’ll be a year within a matter of days. We’ve just been waiting to file. Which is probably exactly why Marie is here now.”

She still won’t meet my eyes. “I see.” She’s calm. Too calm. Like the eye of a storm.

“No, you don’t. It’s a long story. I’m sorry. I should have told you—”

“No.” She cuts me off with a swipe of her hand and then takes a deep breath. “It’s okay. I’m not mad. We can talk later. You have more important things to deal with. Just . . .” She bites her lip and still, still won’t meet my eyes. I want nothing more than to take her in my arms and tell Marie to go to hell, but she’s not wrong. It can’t be a coincidence that Marie would show up now, when I’m so close to being able to file papers against her.

“Call me later.” She finally meets my eyes, her expression remaining guarded.

“I’ll come over,” I say impulsively.

Her responding smile is small, but it’s there and the sight of it gives me hope I haven’t totally wrecked the tenuous connection between us. “What about your sisters?”

Dammit, she’s right. I promised Ava I would be there before they went to bed.

My hands clench at my sides, wanting to reach out and grab her or kiss her, but I don’t want to push it. She’s pale and the smile is gone. I don’t blame her. She found out I’m still married, and I know this must be hell for her, especially after her last boyfriend was married. And yet, she’s not being dramatic or angry, she’s being more understanding than I would expect from anyone.

“I’ll be going, then…bye.” She hands

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