Imperfectly Bad (16 page)

She
was one of the single most beautiful things I had ever seen in my life.

I just hoped I didn’t do anything to fuck this up, because I wasn’t sure there was any way back from this.

I was a goner.

“Wanna come out with me and my friends tonight?” I asked as I sat on the corner of Layla’s desk.

“Meeting the friends? That seems pretty serious.”

She smirked up at me. I loved it when she joked around. It made her ten times more fucking cute in my book. Layla was bringing me to life, giving me a reason to smile again. She made me forget all the dumb shit going on in my life at the moment. I’d met with my lawyer the previous week, and he urged me to settle the paperwork regarding the divorce. Jenny didn’t want anything, and I knew should consider myself lucky in that regard, but I wasn’t about to lie down without a bit of a fight.

Why was I fighting?

Well¸ I wasn’t entirely sure. Call me stubborn as hell, I guess.

“Don’t get your hopes up there, sweet cheeks, I’m sure they’ll hate you.”

One of the many things I liked about Layla was her ability to take comments like these in her stride. Instead of getting her panties in a twist like most women would have done, she simply laughed and went back to typing on her computer.

“Oh,” she called over her monitor, “and don’t forget you have a meeting with your lawyer in an hour.”

I looked at my watch, and put on a bit of a show that I’d forgotten. Things had been going so well with Layla that I hadn’t had the chance to sit down and properly discuss the whole “divorce” situation. Okay, that was a lie. I’d had plenty of opportunities, I just didn’t want Jenny—and all the fuckedupness that came with her—to ruin a good thing. So I did the typical guy thing and feigned ignorance. It hadn’t failed me yet. “Shit, I’d forgotten. Thanks for the reminder, Layla. And be ready at seven. I’ll pick you up after my meeting.”

She winked at me as I stood to go into my office. She was totally adorable. We had squeezed in a lot of good times over the few weeks that we’d been together. She wasn’t the type of girl I usually went for—she was a good girl through and through, and so not my type.

But there was something about her. Whether it was her nativity or her innocence, or the fact that she was completely different from Jenny. I wasn’t really sure. One thing I did know though, and that was that Layla was just what I needed. The perfect distraction from the messy times that I would inevitably find myself in if Jenny Jenkins had anything to do with it.

But despite all the fun, I kept pushing away thoughts that I had actually fallen for her. Now that was something I definitely wasn’t ready for, or even expecting. But I couldn’t deny that Layla invoked emotions in me that I hadn’t thought I was capable of feeling anymore.

I finished up some paperwork before making my way downtown to the offices of my divorce lawyer. It still seemed so weird to say that. I was going to be divorced, without really ever having had a real marriage. It was totally fucked up.

“Hello, Mr. Ziviani.” The secretary behind the front office desk was curt yet professional as she greeted me. “Take a seat. Mr. Saxon will be with you shortly.”

I did as I was told and sat down, thumbing through some magazines they had strategically placed on the table but nothing really caught my interest and I soon sat back and crossed my arms in front of my chest. The waiting room was fairly quiet which allowed me to zone out and think about how much I was looking forward to spending time with the guys and Emma. Oddly enough, I was even looking forward to having them meet Layla. I just hoped they wouldn’t think it meant something, because it didn’t.

Or did it?

The whole situation was completely confusing. Layla was a friend, and an awesome one at that. But…

“Rob.”

I looked up to see my lawyer, Steven Saxton, walking towards me. Saxton was the best divorce lawyer in New York—possibly even the United States, as was evidenced by the fact that he was costing me bookoo bucks. but I didn’t give a shit. As far as I was concerned, money was no object because I wanted to make sure that this went the way I wanted it to. If Jenny wanted a divorce, it would be on my terms.

I stood and shook hands with him. “Nice to see you again, Saxton.”

“Ah, please, call me Steven. Let’s head into my office, shall we?”

I followed him through the hallways until we eventually found ourselves at his office, the obligatory brass name plaque on the door. Stepping over the threshold I was struck by the thought that his office reflected that he was the best because I’d never seen so much mahogany in my life. He unbuttoned his jacket, taking it off and hanging it over the back of his chair before sitting down.

“Please, sit,” he commanded as he pulled my file out from a drawer. I carefully sat down in his leather armchair. It was strange being on this side of the desk, for sure. “So, I’ve spoken to Ms. Jenkins’s lawyer, and I have some good news.”

I rolled my eyes. There was nothing good about any of this. In fact, it was infuriating. The love of my life wanted a divorce so that she could marry a raging dickhead. I didn’t care so much about not being with her, although admittedly that hurt my ego a little. I was more concerned that she was going to get wrapped up with that sleazeball, Bradley.

“We’ve already covered that Ms. Jenkins doesn’t want anything from you, at least not financially, which makes sense since you weren’t living as a couple during the years of your marriage. All she wants is for you to sign the papers and settle out of court. Her attorney wanted me to remind you that she doesn’t have the fondest memories of being in court and would like to avoid going back there no matter what.”

I did remember, and despite my best attempts at trying to block it out the memory came flooding back…

Wow. Court is a drag.

We sit.

And sit.

Then sit some more.

When it’s finally our turn shit goes South.

Real fast.

I’m finally able to see Jenny and she looks pale, like the life has been sucked out of her, which in a way I guess it has. Her parents couldn’t afford to bail her out, and so she’s been stuck in jail for the week leading up to our hearing.

Once the action starts I can’t help but feel sick to my stomach. It doesn’t take long to figure out where this is going. It also doesn’t help that my lawyer is making Jenny out to be a monster—a defense that I had no knowledge of. I sit in complete and utter shock while I listen to him present my case to the jurors.

“Robert Ziviani is a good kid. An honor student with goals and dreams. On the night in question, he was manipulated and convinced to do things he wouldn’t normally do because he thought he was in love.”

I look to Jenny, to somehow let her know that this isn’t me, that I had nothing to do with this. I want to stand up and yell that I do love her. But I don’t, and her eyes don’t leave the ground.

Unaware of the turmoil he is putting her through, and me by proxy, my lawyer continues. “At nineteen years old, Jenny Jenkins is an adult, yet she provided alcohol to my client, despite knowing that he is only seventeen. He showed responsibility that night when he stopped drinking in order to drive her home. However, in her greatly inebriated state, Ms. Jenkins continued to make poor choices…”

As he spins a story with absolutely no basis in truth, I zone out.

This is bad.

Really bad.

A few hours later, I’m being cleared of all charges. The whole debacle will remain on my record until I turn eighteen, but then it will vanish. As if it never happened.

Jenny won’t be so lucky. She’s charged with providing alcohol to a minor, and disorderly conduct. They’d made mention of statutory rape, but without any hard evidence it was dismissed.

Yeah, my lawyer went there.

Above everything else, I hate my parents for that. It had been a surprise but I couldn’t do anything to make it stop. So, along with public intoxication and indecency charges, Jenny’s sentenced to ten days in prison. That alone should be enough, but it’s not. Unlike me, her charges will never vanish.

I watch helplessly as they take her away. I’d like to say that she’s upset, but she’s not. What’s possibly even scarier is that she appears to be totally void of any emotion at all.

Before I can run after her my parents each take one of my arms and escort me out of the courthouse. The gesture appears to show support, solidarity even, but it isn’t. Whatever they might say about me not knowing what love is, they know I love Jenny Jenkins, and if I had even a slim chance of running after her, I would. Keeping me tucked to their sides was a good move on their part, because I want to.

And they know it.

Blood runs like ice through my veins and it is of little comfort that I still have on my parker. “Yeah, I remember,” I say with as little emotion as possible.

Saxton pulls what looks like a ream of papers from the file and sets them in front of me. I look down at them, tabbed with those annoying little “sign here” Post-its.

“All right then, let’s get this settled.” He pulled a pen from his pocket and offered it to me.

“No. Still not signing.”

“Rob—”

“No, you listen. That woman
ruined
me. The damage she did to my heart is irreversible. She doesn’t just get to walk away from it unscathed. She needs to pay the piper, and this is my way of making sure that happens.”

“I think you seriously need to reconsider, cut your ties while things are still amicable. And if it’s not too presumptuous of me to say so, it sounds to me like she’s already paid her dues.”

“Fuck that.” Anger overtook every other emotion and I pushed myself up out of my seat. I was done. “Just call me and let me know when the court date is.”

Before he could argue further I turned around and stormed out of his office without so much as a handshake. I knew I was being a crappy client, but I had put in my time with pain in the ass clients—it was my turn to be one.

I fumed as I walked, more pissed than I should be. I’d gone into his office knowing my plan. Hell, I’d even known how it was going to play out. But still I was pissed. My long strides ate up the sidewalk as I headed for Layla’s. I couldn’t get my ass there quick enough.

There seemed to be a growing trend for running as exercise—every other jackass in the office was always harping on about it. Me? I enjoyed the solace of walking. It gave me time to think. I liked to get in on the occasional run here and there, but my lungs were shit from smoking. Plus, I really just wasn’t that into the health movement.

A passerby knocked against my shoulder and stumbled, snapping me out of my daze. Was I being an idiot?

Yeah, a little bit. But even though taking the divorce to court wouldn’t change the outcome, it at least made me feel better.

Thankfully, the journey passed quick enough and I threw a silent celebration as Layla’s apartment building came into view. I knew myself well enough to know that I needed her to calm me down before I did something stupid. Something like go looking for Bradley and bust his knee caps out.

I buzzed two times before the door unlocked and I let myself in and bounded up to her apartment, taking the stairs two at a time. When I got to the door I didn’t bother knocking, instead I just let myself in. I’d done it before. It was no big deal.

“Hey!” I called out, wanting to make sure she knew I was there. I didn’t need to scare the shit out of her, which would cause her to go all ape shit and possibly mace me. Yes, I speak from experience. It had happened before, and it sucked. I didn’t want to relive that any time soon.

“I’m in here!” she called back, the voice coming from her bedroom.

Damn straight.

Needing to erase my day I kicked off my shoes, threw my jacket onto her couch, and unbuttoned my dress shirt. The walk to her bedroom took far too long but I made it and leaned against the door casing. Although her back was to me, we made eye contact through the mirror on her vanity and she smiled when she saw me. And just like that, all the bad shit from the day melted away.