Fortune for a Week, page 17
A dozen impatient quips ran through Harris’s head, such as, ‘And you’re just coming forward with this now, three months later?’ But aggression wouldn’t help. It might spook Aaron and make him clam up.
Harris chose his words wisely. “Do you remember anything about the guy Linc was arguing with? What he looked like? What he was wearing?”
Aaron shook his head. “Not really. It was just a glance. But I thought…maybe it’s worth mentioning to the police? I don’t want to cause any trouble if it’s nothing, but…”
Harris placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “You should tell them. Absolutely. Even if it seems small, something like this could be a piece of the puzzle that leads the police to the killer or at least gives them a clue. Please, Aaron, tell the police everything you remember.”
Aaron nodded, though his expression remained uneasy. “I’ll give them a call today.”
As Harris watched him walk away, a sense of dread crept into his chest. Linc’s murder had left a gaping hole in his life, but if Aaron’s memory could help solve it, then maybe there was still hope for justice. He turned his gaze back to the paddock, where Sofia and the kids were laughing and seeming to have the time of their lives. A strange mixture of sadness and longing washed over him once again.
A realization broke through the melancholic haze. Life was short. Too short for Linc. You weren’t promised more on this earth than the breath you were drawing right now. Harris was glad he’d stayed in Emerald Ridge instead of going back to Dallas. If he had, Aaron might never have mentioned the argument.
And Harris might not have gotten to know Sofia.
However, Monday was coming. The appointment with the divorce attorney loomed like a shadow. It was finally clear to him that he was in love with Sofia. Why had he wasted so much time ignoring these feelings? Maybe it was self-preservation since she wasn’t ready to be married again. He could see it in her eyes. Because he loved her, he would give her the space she needed. He wouldn’t force her into a life she wasn’t ready to embrace.
* * *
On Monday morning, as Sofia walked toward the entrance of Cathy Henderson’s Dallas law office, her aching heart grew heavier as she spied Harris standing outside waiting for her. Arms crossed, he wore a solemn expression on his handsome face. As soon as he saw Sofia, a smile flickered across his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
She hesitated for a moment. A rush of conflicting emotions surged through her. Part of her wanted to call off this meeting. But she couldn’t; they needed to explore all the options.
Harris clearly cared for her kids. He adored them in ways that made her heart ache because it reminded her of what she longed for—stability, a real family again. But could she give him what he needed? Could she be the kind of wife he deserved?
“Morning,” Harris said as she came to a stop in front of him. He leaned in, brushing a kiss against her cheek. The familiar scent of leather and sandalwood swept over her, stirring memories that left her both comforted and unsettled. She fought the instinct to turn her face toward him and kiss his lips.
“Good morning.” She forced a smile. They stood there, looking at each other. For a moment, she wondered if he was having second thoughts, too. But they owed it to each other to at least hear what the attorney had to say.
“Shall we?” Harris opened the door for and her she stepped into the cool, quiet office. The air smelled faintly of copier fluid and floor polish.
The receptionist took their names, placed a phone call and finally walked them back to Cathy’s office.
She greeted them from behind her desk. With her sleek, chestnut-colored hair pulled into a low bun and her tailored suit, she appeared to be a no-nonsense woman. Sofia guessed that she was in her mid-forties.
“Hello.” She stood and offered her hand as she introduced herself, assessing them with her sharp gaze. “Please have a seat, and we’ll get started.”
The way she commanded the meeting made it clear that she didn’t waste time with frivolities.
Sofia glanced at Harris before settling into the leather chair across from Cathy’s imposing desk. Harris followed suit. The space between them seemed miles wider than the few inches that separated their chairs.
Cathy donned a pair of reading glasses and opened a file. “So, you’re seeking an annulment,” she began, glancing between the two of them. Before they had a chance to answer, she continued, “I’ll be honest—annulments aren’t easy to obtain. It’s not simply a matter of regret or wishing something hadn’t happened. There are specific legal grounds that must be met before this can happen. Please tell me about the circumstances of your marriage?”
Sofia shifted in her seat, feeling like an idiot, before uttering the first word. “We…we spent one drunken night together in Las Vegas and woke up married.” Her voice was tight. “I would not have consented if I’d been sober.”
She kept her gaze pinned on Cathy because she couldn’t bear to look at Harris. The woman tapped her pen against the desk. “I see. And can you prove that you were intoxicated at the time?”
Sofia blinked. “Prove it?”
“Yes. Any witnesses? Photographs? Videos? Wedding footage, for instance. If there are videos or photos of the ceremony, they could show signs of intoxication—slurred speech, stumbling, or anything that suggests you were not in full control of your faculties. Do you have anything like that?”
“We, uh…” Sofia glanced at Harris.
“We didn’t have a big ceremony,” he said. “It was a quick and spur-of-the-moment exchange of vows. No one else was there.”
Cathy raised an eyebrow. “No witnesses at all?”
He shook his head. “Only the chapel employees. It was late, and we didn’t know anyone there. Alcohol was involved, and we didn’t think it through.”
The attorney leaned back in her chair. “Well, we could still use other evidence. Pre-wedding and post-wedding footage, if you have any. Photos or videos from before and after the ceremony, especially from bars or celebrations. Do you have anything like that to show how intoxicated you were leading up to the event?”
They hadn’t taken any photos. Suddenly, Sofia remembered someone at the wedding chapel snapping a photo, but the picture hadn’t made it back to the hotel.
Clearly taking their silence as a no, Cathy asked, “Any receipts? Did you have a bar tab showing the amount of alcohol consumed? Or do you have credit card statements documenting alcohol purchases?”
“I have a receipt for the purchase of two drinks at a club where we went dancing before the ceremony,” Harris said. “Our dinner, which had wine pairings, was where we consumed most of the alcohol. It was comped. A friend of mine owns the restaurant. I guess we could ask him to vouch for us.”
Sofia groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Which means we’ll have to tell him we’re married. I didn’t want anyone else to know.”
Cathy nodded, her expression sympathetic but firm. “It might be your best bet. As it stands, we don’t have much to go on.”
She paused and shuffled through some pages in the file. “You said you woke up married. Not to be indelicate, but was the relationship consummated?”
Cathy’s tone was matter-of-fact, but Sofia felt heat creep up her neck. She glanced at Harris, who looked equally uncomfortable.
“Yes,” he said.
“Have you been intimate since returning to…” She glanced at the file. “Emerald Ridge?”
“Yes,” he said, again.
Cathy nodded. “That complicates things. Courts are less likely to grant annulments when the marriage was consummated, especially if it happened after the marriage took place.”
Sofia frowned, her thoughts swirling. She hadn’t expected this to be easy, but she hadn’t realized it would be this humiliating.
“I wouldn’t have gotten married in Vegas like that if I’d been in my right mind,” she insisted.
Harris cleared his throat, his voice soft but steady. “Would you have married me otherwise?”
The question caught her off guard. She turned to look at him, her heart skipping a beat. “What?”
“I’m asking,” he said, holding her gaze, “if the circumstances had been different—if we hadn’t been drunk and I’d proposed—would you have married me?”
Sofia’s mind went blank for a moment. The answer seemed obvious, didn’t it? “Harris… I didn’t even know you then. And if it weren’t for this…” She motioned between them. “We might not know each other now.”
Harris cocked an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Exactly. Drunken marriage or not, I don’t hate that I met you. In fact, if anything good has come out of it, it’s that.”
The weight of his words settled over her, thick and heavy. Her chest tightened as emotions warred inside her. This wasn’t what she had planned, not any of it. But Harris…he had become something more than an impulsive mistake. He had become a part of her life. Of her kids’ lives.
Cathy cleared her throat, bringing them back to the present. “I’m sorry, but do you or don’t you want to annul this marriage?”
Sofia’s first thought was, No! The word clanged against her heart, the clapper against the steel of a bell. But what fell from her lips was, “Yes.” It slipped out before she could stop it, clashing against Harris’s quiet but emphatic, “No.”
The room fell silent, the weight of their responses muddying the waters like a thick fog. Sofia’s pulse thrummed in her ears, and she wanted nothing more than to take back that errant yes. But her answer was out, and she couldn’t undo it.
Cathy sighed and removed her readers. Her gaze softened. “I must inform you that if this exchange happened in front of a judge, there’s no way he or she would grant an annulment. If you both aren’t sure, I’d advise you to take some time to think about it before we proceed.”
Sofia glanced at Harris, her heart heavy with the weight of the situation. She could feel his sadness rolling off him in waves. It echoed her own, but she didn’t know how to make this right.
Cathy closed the file and folded her hands on top of it. “Look, I can start the paperwork, but I’m sensing some hesitancy on your part as well, Ms. Gomez Simon. My advice? Don’t rush into this if you’re not completely certain.”
Sofia stared down at her hands, at the bare ring finger on her left hand. The wedding ring Harris had bought her was in her jewelry box at home. Her mind was spinning. Was this really what she wanted? She wasn’t sure anymore. She wasn’t sure of anything.
“This will sound like I’m contradicting myself since I told you not to rush into it,” Cathy said. “If you do want to go through with it, time is of the essence. I need affidavits from both of you about your state of mind, how much you drank, and your memories of what led to the event. Also, I will need testimony from your restauranteur friend, Mr. Fortune.” Cathy paused, and when she spoke again, her voice was softer. “Sometimes, the hardest part isn’t admitting the mistake. It’s deciding whether or not you want to fix it.”
Sofia swallowed hard, her heart aching. For the first time since they’d woken up married in Vegas, she wasn’t sure if fixing it meant undoing it—or finding a way to make it work.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Harris was not having a good day. For that matter, he hadn’t had a good day since he and Sofia had argued about Paris and decided to put some distance between them. Since then, it had all been one big blur of bad.
Today had been particularly challenging because he’d finally bitten the bullet and outlined exactly what he needed to say to Carl Woodward when he reached out to ask him to attest to the amount of alcohol he and Sofia had consumed at his restaurant, Laurel.
Harris had written down everything he needed from Carl, but he just couldn’t bring himself to send the email.
It had been three days since they’d met with Cathy Henderson, and he needed to send the message before the end of the day.
But first, lunch.
Stepping away would allow him to clear his head and come back with better focus. Then he’d read through it one more time and send it off. He ignored the way his stomach churned, blaming it on hunger.
Harris got into his car and headed downtown. Since he and Sofia were giving each other space, he’d been avoiding that part of town because her salon was there and he didn’t want her to think he was stalking her. But today, he felt restless. His house seemed too quiet, too big, with nothing to do but think.
He had attempted to read a business proposal. The third time he reached the bottom of the page and realized that he had no idea what he’d read, he knew something had to change. He needed to get out of his head because his mind was a fog of memories and regrets.
He couldn’t live this way.
Harris vowed that after he grabbed a bite to eat and sent off the request to Carl, he would get himself together.
Francesca’s Bar and Grill was just what the doctor ordered. Their specialty, the cowboy burger—with its double patties, cheddar and pepper jack cheese, bacon, onion straws and generous slather of BBQ sauce—was the perfect medicine.
It was early, so the lunch crowd hadn’t yet descended. He took a seat at the bar, which was virtually empty except for Jesse, the bartender, who took his order.
While Harris waited, he glanced around the place—at the earth-tone décor, stone walls and wooden accents. He eyed the few occupied tables he could see from where he sat, hoping he’d see Sofia, but she wasn’t there.
The last bite of the burger had been satisfying, but it hadn’t filled the hollowness gaping in Harris’s chest. He guessed he wouldn’t feel whole again until the matter of their marriage was settled. He tossed some bills that included a generous tip on the bar and resolved to man-up and do what he needed to do.
Harris left the bar and grill. The sound of clinking plates and murmured conversations faded behind him. As he stepped onto the sidewalk that boarded the bustling Emerald Ridge Boulevard, the bracing October wind cut through him. He zipped his jacket shut. He couldn’t help but glance in the direction of The Style Lounge, but then he turned in the opposite direction and headed toward his car.
Downtown, with its quaint businesses and shops, was alive with its usual vibrant buzz. A group of women spilled out of the Coffee Connection, talking and laughing, and holding festive-looking drinks. Next he saw a couple walk out of a jewelry shop holding hands. It was right next door to the florist where Harris had picked up that beautiful bouquet for Sofia. Had it really been nearly two weeks since he’d bought the flowers? In some ways, it seemed like yesterday. In others, it seemed like a lifetime ago. Despite all the life around him, Harris felt like he was moving through it in a daze.
“Harris,” called a familiar female voice.
He turned and saw his sister, Zara, walking toward him. Tall, with her long blond hair flowing over her shoulders, and dressed in her usual stylishly casual way, she looked pretty as ever. But her face was lined with worry, and her green eyes were not quite as bright as they usually were.
Harris forced a smile. “Hey, Zara. What’s going on?”
They hugged, and she held on to him a little longer than usual.
“I haven’t seen you since the fall festival,” she said. “Where have you been hiding?”
He ran a hand over his chin. “I’ve been around. I just finished grabbing a bite of lunch before I get back to work.”
“Did you meet Sofia?”
The words sucker-punched him. If things crumbled, he’d have to address the breakup…but not right now. The best way around that was to change the subject.
“I hear Finn Morrison is back in town,” he said. “Have you talked to him?”
Zara blanched and then sighed. “No. He’s pretty much avoiding me.”
“You okay?” Harris asked.
“Yes.” His sister spit out the word, but in the next instant, she shook her head, and her green eyes welled.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Harris asked, pulling her into a hug, wishing he hadn’t mentioned Finn.
She stepped back and tried to blink away the unshed tears. “Look at me. I’m a mess.”
He didn’t know what to say.
“It’s hard, Harris. I really loved him, and he broke my heart. After all these years, I thought I was over him, but…”
She shrugged.
Harris studied her face, the pain evident.
“What happened between you two?” he asked gently.
Zara’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I wish I knew. One minute, we were crazy about each other, and the next…he couldn’t stand to be around me, but he wouldn’t tell me why. I’ve always suspected it was because he felt like he didn’t belong. You know, he was a townie, working at the country club, and I…well, you know. We were members. I think it embarrassed him.”
He frowned. “That doesn’t make sense. Finn’s a good guy. We never thought any less of him for working there. Hell, it was a respectable job.”
Zara shrugged, but her eyes clouded over. “I know, but he told me he always felt like he was on the outside looking in.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “No matter what, I wish him well. I hope he’s getting some answers about his missing adoption file and what might have happened to it. That whole situation with his file going missing still feels off. I hope there’s nothing shady going on there.”
Harris nodded. “I’ve been thinking about how Priscilla was wondering how the Morrisons could afford the exorbitant fees that the Texas Royale Private Adoption Agency charged. Finn’s parents weren’t wealthy. Do you know anything about how they managed to afford the fees when they adopted him?”
Her brows knitted together. “No idea. They were solid, hardworking people, but definitely not rolling in money. I guess we’ll never know. Finn won’t even talk to me anymore. I wish there were something I could do to help him.”
