The Marriage Recipe. Michele Dunaway

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      SHE WAS CRYING. Sobbing, actually. She’d gone through at least three tissues—she figured having a box around was standard procedure in a legal office—and she was about to go through her fourth as she blew her nose and sounded like a deranged goose.

      Why did she have to break down here of all places? Sure she’d cried. But in private. When she’d called her good friends, she’d been tough and unyielding. She’d swallowed her pride and moved home, dealing with the endless pity and sympathy of both her family and townsfolk. Poor Rachel. How terrible a thing to have happened to her. Through it all, she’d held her head high.

      Until Colin Morris. He was as insensitive as ever. And darn him, he was the only one who’d pierced the armor shielding her bruised dignity and wounded dreams.

      He’d moved around his desk and squatted on the floor beside her. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I meant the scandal. Not marrying you. Of course any man would want to marry you.”

      “Yeah, which is why he was sleeping around!” Rachel shouted, needing to vent. “Do you know what that’s like? Finding out that everything you believed to be true is a big fat lie? That you aren’t good enough? Never were? That while you thought you had passion, it obviously wasn’t enough to keep a man from straying? You wouldn’t understand. You’re never in a relationship long enough to have your heart smashed into smithereens.”

      “I’ll do what I can to help,” Colin promised. He placed his hand reassuringly on her jean-covered thigh. “You’ll get through this. You’re one of the bravest and toughest people I know.”

      “Ha!” She sniffled. “That’s why I fell apart here. I don’t see you for years and first thing I do is bawl my eyes out and sob like a freak. This is why I wanted to see Bruce.”

      Colin straightened, placing some distance between Rachel and him. “He’s not available—I am. Do you want me to handle this for you or not?”

      She sniffled again, frowned at his abrupt change in tone and stared at him through what had to be red eyes. “You already know everything. You might as well take the case on. How much will it cost? I’ll be honest. I’m close to broke. All my savings went to paying my credit cards. I’ve put the jewelry Marco gave me in a safe-deposit box just in case he starts demanding that back.”

      “I’ll talk to my father and get back to you about the fees. You’re practically family to him, so I’m sure it won’t be much. Don’t stress over fees. Let me work up a response to this demand letter. Do you have copies of all the expenses you incurred preparing for your wedding?”

      She nodded. “Yes.”

      “I’ll need those,” Colin said.

      Rachel shifted. She’d never viewed the professional, go-get-them persona of her former next-door neighbor. She found the change fascinating. Colin was assured and confident, a man in control. He had a plan, which was more than she could say. All she’d really done was move home. Everything else she’d put on hold until she got this straightened out. “Okay, but can I ask why?”

      “Absolutely. Anytime you have a question or comment you have to speak up. That’s important if we’re going to get the results we want. The way I see it, engagements are oral contracts. He promised to be faithful and marry you. He broke that contract. You have the right to demand that he compensate you for your mental anguish and your expenses.”

      “That’s legal?” she asked. “There’s a law regulating fidelity?”

      Colin smiled. “A lot of legal maneuvering is just strategy. He demands—we demand. We negotiate a truce. If he’s so worried about scandal, I doubt he wants to take this to court, where one, the suit becomes public record, and two, he risks getting an unfavorable judge, one who might have had her husband cheat on her, or a boyfriend on her daughter, or something like that.”

      “Ah,” Rachel said, although she still didn’t quite understand. Still, Colin seemed certain, and she’d always been able to trust him. “So you don’t expect them to really file anything?”

      He shook his head, a strand of blond hair falling across his right eye. He brushed it back, and a gold cuff link twinkled. “I don’t think they will. Once court is involved, things get pricey and everyone’s out a lot of money.”

      “Except the lawyers. I guess this is why only the lawyers get rich,” Rachel said.

      “Yeah, Marco’s lawyer will bill for his time no matter where this goes. At this stage the case is easy money. Write a letter and send the client a bill.”

      “Sounds mercenary,” Rachel said. “No wonder Shakespeare wrote, ‘First thing we do is kill all the lawyers.’”

      He shot her a look that said, Give me a break. “Gee, thanks. I’ll save your recipes, maybe get you some money in the process, and I’ll still be in a scummy profession.”

      “I didn’t say that. You know me. I was just quoting.” Rachel reached for her coat, her sobbing fit concluded. Back in place was the strong woman of action who refused to be defeated. The pity party was over. Colin would not see her as a weakling again.

      “By the way, that wasn’t what Shakespeare meant. You used the words out of context. Characters in the play were trying to plan a rebellion and figured they needed to take down the legal system to do it. You and your quotations.” Colin grinned. “It’s good to know some things haven’t changed. Do you remember that night we had the champagne? I’ve never had anyone spout as many quotations in my ear as you did. That’s how I knew you were tipsy.”

      “I was young. It didn’t take much alcohol to make me drunk,” Rachel said brusquely. They’d kissed, and now was not the time to rehash how memorable that had been—not. СКАЧАТЬ