Authors: Dakota Cassidy

Tags: #Separated Women, #Greek Americans, #Humorous, #Contemporary, #Women Cooks, #General, #Romance, #Humorous Fiction, #Fiction, #Cultural Heritage, #Love Stories

Burning Down the Spouse (31 page)

BOOK: Burning Down the Spouse

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“Hah! Everything with Mitch is urgent. He probably just lost his garlic press.” Frankie’s eyes narrowed. What was up with Mitch these days? He hadn’t spent this much time with her in all of their marriage. Suddenly she was on his most-wanted list? Twice in the matter of a few days after seven solid months of total silence while he cranked out his angst, looking for the Fountain of Youth in Bamby’s girlie bits, just wasn’t acceptable.

She was not the weak, helpless, afraid-of-her-own-shadow woman who’d left him. And he certainly wasn’t going to take advantage of her now. Mitch owed her some afterglow. Damn him for ruining her afterglow. He was allowed to do it when they were married—it came with the marital ups and downs, but not now when the afterglow wasn’t his to take.

But Nikos was grabbing at his pants and tugging his sweater over his head, his face unreadable. “Cosmos sounded like it was serious, Frankie. I think you should get dressed.”

Hookay. So was this the perfect excuse to get rid of her after all that talk of exclusivity? Maybe she hadn’t left him wanting more like he’d left her, and he wanted out? Maybe he had some kind of code with Cosmos that would allow him the op to bail because she sucked. Misery began to form a knot in her stomach. The empty one that was apparently ravenous now that all the bedsport had given her an appetite.

“Stop thinking what you’re thinking, Frankie.”

Frankie looked away, her eyes scanning the room for her clothes, taking in the heavy log armoire in the corner and the puffy red and taupe striped chair in the corner.

Nikos sat on the bed, clasping her wrists in his hands, his thumb caressing her skin. “There really was a call from Mitch, Frankie. Cosmos isn’t my alibi to escape from your less than experienced clutches.”

The sting of stupid tears filled with doubt wet her eyelids. “Okay.”

“No. It’s not okay, and you’re not okay. Your reservations are written all over your face. It makes sense that that would be your first thought because of how Mitch treated you. He created suspicion and the fear of being lied to for any man you happened across after him, but I’m telling you the truth. Now let’s get dressed and see what Mitch said.”

Someone pounding on the door made Frankie spring into action without allowing her to dissect Nikos’s insightful, sensitive words. Tearing the comforter from the bed to keep her covered while she hunted for her clothes, she searched the floor for her ridiculously high heels.

Nikos left her with quick strides, heading for the front door. She hurried to throw on her push-up bra and top, dragging her panties and her skirt over her hips with hands that shook.

The rumble of voices beyond the bedroom door made her run her hand over her hair, which was now scrunched into balls from the hair-spray Jasmine had sprayed at her like an exterminator killing an infestation of roaches. Shit. Her purse with the brush in it was at the diner.

She popped open the bedroom door to find Cosmos standing on Nikos’s front step, a frown on his face, muttering something to Nikos.

“Cosmos?”

His face went from impatient to grim. “Frankie, Mitch’s assistant called. He’s in the hospital.”

Frankie smoothed a hand over her skirt, pausing to gather her wits. Did it make her a horrible person to wonder why she was supposed to care so much it warranted a phone call to her? They were divorced. Had she been in the hospital during their seven months apart, would Mitch have cared? Would anyone have called to tell him? Didn’t divorced mean those kinds of emergencies no longer applied to each other? “Juliana called?”

He nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, that’s her name. She said Mitch is in the hospital and he needs you.”

Needed her. To what? Find his pulse? Straighten his IV pole? Give him a sit-bath? Though, eighteen years of obligation tore her in two different frames of mind. They had been married. She had once, admittedly, loved Mitch, and now he needed her.

Yet, the rebellious side of her wanted to scream that had she needed him—
when
she’d needed him during the course of their marriage, he’d never been there for her. Not to mention the way he’d left her with next to nothing without even so much as a call to check on her well-being. So why did she have to be there for him if their marriage was over? Did Mitch’s medical emergency beat her pain and suffering because it was only a little divorce? “Did she say what was going on and if it was serious?”

Cosmos shook his dark head in the negative. “She was pretty vague, but she gave me the address at the hospital and said that Mitch asked you to come right away. Then she hung up before I could ask her any questions. Sounded like some kind of commotion in the background. I think it might be serious, Frankie.”

Frankie wasn’t thinking about Mitch, she was seeking Nikos’s eyes—eyes that filtered his thoughts with such obvious caution it hurt her to look into them. Maybe this made her selfish, but the odd vibe between her and Nikos worried her more than Mitch and his emergency did.

Maybe she could just call the hospital . . . She sure couldn’t call Mitch or even Juliana. They’d changed their numbers shortly after her television debut, claiming, via Mitch’s attorney, that she was insane and unstable—maybe even prone to homicidal threats. She’d found out purely by accident when all she’d wanted to do was get inside the brownstone to find her second set of car keys.

Nikos was the first to speak, clearing his throat. “Maybe you should go to him, Frankie.”

Why did that statement feel like a test?

Nikos solved her quandary by saying, “I’ll drive you. It’s late, and I don’t want you out on the roads on Christmas Eve alone.”

Jasmine was suddenly there, her car keys dangling between her fingers, with Simon and Win in tow. “We can always take the C-Rex,” she cooed.

Frankie frowned, running her hands over her now frigid arms. “You don’t want to go to some hospital on Christmas Eve. You go home and enjoy the rest of the evening.”

Nikos grabbed his jacket from a wrought iron hook by the door. “Thanks, Jasmine, but I’ve got it. You two go do Christmas Eve things.”

Jasmine pushed past Nikos, drawing Frankie’s jacket around her shoulders and handing her her purse. “You sure? I don’t mind coming for the ride. Not to mention, I’d love to know what the hell that snake wants with you on Christmas Eve.”

Frankie gave her a quick hug. “I’m fine. Go and stand under some mistletoe with your man.” Pulling her close, Frankie whispered in her ear, “And thanks for everything.”

Jasmine’s smile was Cheshire when she whispered back, “Never doubt Jasmine’s ability to rope in a man, or read one, for that matter. I hope it was everything you wanted it to be. Don’t forget, I want to hear all about it tomorrow. So call me. Now be safe, and I really hope it’s nothing serious with Mitch. Just FYI, I have my doubts it is. He’s a prick, but still, I don’t wish anything more horrible on him than a limp dick. Anyway, Merry Christmas, honey.”

Simon gave her a quick kiss before taking Jasmine’s hand in his. “You call if you need anything, Frankie. Don’t let that jackass sack you, okay?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I’ll be at Jasmine’s if you need us.”

Jasmine rolled her eyes, pulling him out the door and directing him over a patch of ice as Win took her hand and brought it to his chest, leaning in toward her with a hushed voice. “Truly, miss, you are lovely tonight, but might I suggest you allow me to straighten your hair for you? It would seem a stray eyelash has met its fate in your hair.” His hand discreetly reached to the top of her head where he plucked the eyelash out and stuck it in his pocket. “All’s well,” he said on a wink. “A Merry Christmas to you and yours. It was a pleasure meeting you. Safe journey now.”

Frankie smiled up at him in gratitude as her hand flew to her eyes. Shit, both of her eyelashes were missing. No one could ever mistake her for anything remotely like a vixen.

She watched Win’s back as he made his way out, fully expecting Cosmos to follow. Yet, he lingered, waiting in skulking silence.

Nikos turned to her. “You ready?”

Frankie shook her head, catching the hard gaze Cosmos shot her. “I can’t let you take me, Nikos. You go spend Christmas Eve with Voula and everyone. I’ll be fine. If you could just give me a lift to the village to get my car, I’d appreciate it.” No way was she letting Nikos and Mitch in a room together—especially if Mitch really was having some sort of medical emergency. He was nothing short of an asshole when he had a mere hangnail.

“Not gonna happen,” he said with a definitive tone and a shake of his head. Yet still, there was a new tension between them Frankie didn’t understand but really wished they could take a moment alone together so she could try and navigate it.

Cosmos shook some keys. “I’ll drive. You two can argue about it on the way. Let’s go.” He stomped off through the cold night air toward a detached two-car garage and a large, white Suburban.

Frankie followed behind him with Nikos at her elbow to keep her from falling. “Cosmos! Voula will never forgive me if I take not one but both of you away on Christmas Eve. I’m a big girl. I can drive myself.”

Cosmos scoffed, popping open the driver’s-side door. “Voula would never forgive us if we let the ‘bad Mitch’ have at her Frankie without us there to protect her. She was the one who said we should go. Now get in,” he ordered with a snap to his words while Nikos remained stoically silent.

Oh, tonight was just turning out to be the bestest evah. She’d boffed herself dizzy with an amazing man who appeared genuine and deep when all she’d ever known was shallow and immoral, and instead of basking in that revelation, she was on her way to the hospital to see to Mitch’s needs.

Yet the tug of years of obligation made her feet move and get in the backseat.

Nikos slid in beside her, but his hand didn’t reach for hers, leaving her even more miserable than the news that Mitch was in the hospital.

Thankfully, the traffic was light due to everyone being where they should be on Christmas Eve. At home. With their families. Warm. Safe. Nikos looked out the window as they passed a blur of decorative lights, but his glance didn’t stray to her. Cosmos’s silence was palpable, leaving Frankie feeling awkward and an imposition.

No one spoke while Christmas music played, soft and bittersweet to her ears.

Cosmos pulled into the emergency room entrance with a jolt. Frankie yanked the door handle and hopped out as fast as her heels would allow, the sharp wind whipping at her jacket, relieved to get away from a tension she couldn’t figure out. “I’ll go find Mitch and Juliana and meet you back here in the waiting room.”

Frankie took off in the direction of the reception desk to find Mitch already there, sitting in a wheelchair, moaning and holding his chest with one hand, clinging to a blanket with the other. Juliana was at the desk, scrolling through papers.

Her approach to Mitch was hesitant, her steps sluggish. “Mitch?”

“Frankie!” Juliana called to her, her full cheeks red, her misshapen clothes askew. Frankie felt a pang of remorse for her. She looked run-down. No doubt, now that Mitch didn’t have her to run ragged, Juliana was likely taking the brunt of his workload.

Frankie smiled in her direction, drawing her coat tighter around her neck. “It’s good to see you, Juliana. How’ve you been?”

Her cheeks puffed outward. “Tired, but okay. Listen—”

But Mitch cut her off, managing to roll his wheelchair between the two women. His hands shooed at Juliana in impatience. “You go fill out the forms, Juliana, and go home. It is Christmas Eve. I’ll speak to Frankie.” He coughed, his eyes searching hers.

For what, she didn’t know.

Frankie’s lips pursed as Juliana cocked an eyebrow in Mitch’s direction before making a reluctant retreat and turning her attention back to his release forms.

Frankie crossed her arms over her chest. “So what’s going on, Mitch? You look fine to me. I’m not sure why you called me to begin with, but seeing you, it doesn’t look like it was anything dire.” And definitely nothing that should have dragged her from the warmth of Nikos’s bed.

His lined face went slack with a defeated, hurt expression. “I disturbed your Christmas Eve, didn’t I?” His hand reached for hers, cold and smooth, so different than Nikos’s. “Accept my apology?”

Frankie’s sigh was a mixture of impatience and frustration. The hell he was going to pull the martyr act with her. It drove her absolutely insane. Whenever Mitch wanted something, he put on his sacrificial victim pants and had at her, twisting the situation to his advantage by creating guilt because she was aggravated. Nope. He didn’t get to do that anymore. “Why did you need me here, Mitch? What was so urgent you asked for, of all people, me? Because this doesn’t look urgent, Mitch. You’re being released, for crap’s sake. It’s not like you’re dying.”

He let his wide shoulders crumble inward. His gray-blue eyes grew watery. “But that’s just it, Frankie.”

Her teeth clenched, her hand remaining slack in his clingy grasp. “
What’s
just it, Mitch?”

“I
am
dying, Frankie.”

She blinked.

BOOK: Burning Down the Spouse

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