The Arrangement - Jerica MacMillan Page 0,83

off with Alexis after she gets back from her latest meeting with Delores. But she won’t tell me what. She smiles and acts like everything is normal, but she’s not nearly as excited as I expected her to be when she tells me about the contract offers.

And even though I secretly want her to turn them both down and commit to going indie with me, I don’t ever voice that. Instead, I make us a delicious meal to celebrate—steak and pan-fried vegetables, with her favorite wine, and brownie sundaes for dessert.

“I won’t be upset about you taking either contract, you know,” I tell her quietly as she finishes her dinner.

She freezes with a bite of carrot halfway in her mouth. Slowly, she closes her lips around her fork and pulls the vegetable into her mouth in a move so unconsciously sexy that I can’t wait for the rest of my celebration plans. Eyes on her plate, she doesn’t say anything until after she’s swallowed. “Thanks. I know we said—“

“Alexis,” I cut in, “this is an amazing opportunity. If it were me, I’d want to see where it goes. I’m happy supporting you and continuing my own career. You getting a contract doesn’t change anything between us, though.” I reach across the table and cover her free hand with mine. She flips her hand over, her fingers gripping me surprisingly hard, like she’s clinging to a lifeline in stormy seas. My brows furrow, and I give her a questioning look, but she doesn’t say anything. “I’d still love your help choosing songs, though,” I tell her. “And I wouldn’t object if you wrote more for me too.”

She gives me a smile that almost doesn’t seem forced. “Of course,” she says. “I love helping you.”

That at least sounds genuine. And I hope that maybe that’s why she hasn’t been as excited as she should be. That she was worried I’d be upset. Now that I’ve reassured her that I’m not, maybe she can settle into the thrill of choosing between two contract offers.

And even though we spend the rest of the night in our favorite way and everything works right when we’re naked, during the day, she’s more reserved. And she’s writing more songs, even though she has a whole album’s worth all ready to go.

Maybe the contracts stipulate that she can’t use anything that we’ve been performing? Or maybe she just feels the need to make herself more impressive?

She didn’t say anything about making a counteroffer, but maybe this has to do with that? I know one offer was only for one album, so maybe she’s trying to get a jump on another one to show them she’s good for a better deal since that one offered more money?

I don’t know, and she’s not letting me into what she’s thinking. All she’ll say is, “I’m still weighing all my options,” when I ask her about it.

It’s several days later when I stumble across the real reason for her behavior.

She’s out for a run, which is something she’s started doing since both offers came in. On the one hand, I’m hoping it’s helping her get some clarity. I know it does for me. But on the other hand, I’m worried that Delores is still riding her about losing five pounds.

But I’ve just gotten out of the shower, and I dropped my ring on the floor next to the bed, and when I bend to retrieve it, I find an unmarked manila envelope. Curious, I open it and pull out the papers to see what they are, wondering if it’s something important that got bumped off Alexis’s side table. I don’t want her losing important paperwork.

It takes a few seconds for my brain to make sense of what I’m seeing.

On the top right, Alexis’s name is typed next to the word Petitioner. And mine is next to Respondent.

Huh?

I pull the papers out even farther.

Divorce.

These are divorce papers.

This is why she’s been so weird.

Delores told her she needs to drop me. And she’s been trying to figure out a way to tell me.

Stunned, I drop to the bed, the papers falling from my fingers.

And just like that, it’s over.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Alexis

I breeze into the apartment, fully expecting a mostly-naked Colt to greet me with a kiss like he’s done every time I get back. He never cares that I’m sweaty from running. Nope, he wraps me up in his arms and offers to join me in the shower. I usually turn him down, because the

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