her go back to the city, and her sad memories in the house.
“How's the child molester?” Andrea asked casually, she knew they had befriended him finally, and she was still curious about him. They hadn't met. And from Pip's description, he sounded like a hunk. Ophélie had said very little, which Andrea thought was suspicious. But Andrea saw nothing secretive in her eyes. No magic. No carefully hidden agenda. No guilt. She looked very relaxed.
“He's so good with Pip. We had dinner with him the other night.”
“That's odd for a man with no kids,” Andrea commented.
“He has two.”
“Then that makes sense. Did you meet them?”
“They live in New Zealand, with his ex-wife.”
“Uh-oh. How's that? Does he hate her? How bad is the damage?” She was an expert in the field, and by now she had seen it all. Men who'd been cheated on, ripped off, abandoned, lied to, screwed over, left, and hated every woman in their life from then on. Not to mention the ones who were sexually confused, still in a relationship, had lost wives who had been absolutely perfect, men who'd never married and were middle-aged, and those who forgot to mention that they were still married. Older, younger, same age. Andrea had dated them all. And she was willing to cross a number of boundaries, when she found a man she liked. Even damaged, they were sometimes fun for a while. But she at least preferred knowing what the damage was.
“I'd say there's a fair amount of damage,” Ophélie said honestly, “and I feel bad for him. But it's not my concern. He got pretty badly screwed over by his ex-wife. She walked off with his best friend, and married him. She forced Matt to sell their business, and seems to have estranged him from his kids.”
“Oh my God, what else did she do? Slash his tires and set fire to his car? What else was left?”
“Not much, from the sound of it. He got a lot of money for their ad agency, I suspect, but I don't think he really cares.”
“At least that explains why he was so friendly with Pip. He must miss his kids.”
“He does,” Ophélie said, thinking about the things they'd said the night he came to dinner. It had definitely touched her heart.
“How long ago was the divorce?” Andrea had a clinical look on her face, and Ophélie laughed.
“About ten years ago, I think. Give or take. He hasn't seen his kids in six, or heard from them. They cut him off.”
“Maybe he is a child molester, then. Either that, or his ex is a piece of work. More likely that. Has he had a serious relationship since?”
“One. She wanted to get married and have kids. He didn't. I think he's too wounded to try again, and I can't say I blame him. What he describes is about as bad as it gets.”
“Forget it,” Andrea said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice, shaking her head. “Trust me. Too much baggage. This guy's a mess.”
“Not as a friend,” Ophélie said calmly. She didn't want anything from Matt, other than his friendship. She didn't want a relationship either. She had Ted, in her head and heart. She didn't want anyone else.
“You don't need a friend,” Andrea said practically. “You have me. You need a man in your life. And this one is too damaged. I've seen guys like that. They never get their shit together again. How old is he?”
“Forty-seven.”
“Too bad. But I'm telling you. You'd be wasting your time.”
“I'm not wasting anything,” Ophélie said with quiet determination. “I don't want a man in my life. Now or ever again. I had Ted. I don't want anyone else.”
“You had problems with him, Ophélie, and you know it. I don't want to bring up ugly memories, but there was a little incident about ten years ago, if you'll recall.…” Their eyes met and Ophélie looked away.
“That was a one-time thing. It was an accident. A mistake. He never did it again.”
“You don't know that. He might have. And whether he did or not is irrelevant. He wasn't a saint, he was a man. A very, very difficult man who gave you a tough time sometimes, like with Chad. Everything was about him. You're the only woman I know who could have put up with him for as long as you did. He was a genius, I concede that, but no matter how much I liked him, and you loved him, he was a sonofabitch