Free Fractured (Not Quite a Billionaire #2) by Rosalind James

His first marriage?” I knew why I’d been so nervous this morning, why everything had felt so off. Why Hemi had been so strange.
    At least, I thought I did.
    Her eyes narrowed the tiniest bit, and she studied me for a moment, then said slowly, “It was yonks ago, honestly. Water under the bridge. When we were at design school, here in Auckland. Until she wanted the baby, I guess.”

    Hemi

    I was in a quick goodwill-cementing meeting with the lead buyer for Smith & Caughey’s when my phone buzzed.
    Normally, I’d have turned it off. Today, I hadn’t. Instead, I’d left it sitting on the conference table. Now, I glanced at the screen. It wasn’t my attorney. It was Hope. I hesitated a second, then said, “Excuse me a moment,” and walked out of the room.
    I never did that. Interruptions were rude, and they were unprofessional. But I did it today.
    “Sweetheart,” I said the moment I was outside. “How’re you going? Finished already?”
    “I need you to come pick me up.”
    She almost barked it out, sounding completely unlike Hope, and I blinked. Was she getting nervy again? Overwhelmed?
    “Of course,” I said. “Give me half an hour to finish here, and I’m on my way. Have a coffee, or better yet—do some jewelry browsing for me, eh. I’d like to get Violet’s ideas on earrings, maybe a necklace as well, depending on your neckline. They’ll need to be right for the dress, and as you won’t let me see it…Where are you?”
    She named a café in Chancery Square, then said, “I’m not going jewelry shopping. Please come get me. I need to talk to you.”
    Her voice was all wrong. Tight. Cold. “Hope,” I said slowly, “what’s wrong? Couldn’t find the dress? It doesn’t matter. I told you, I want you to feel proud when you come to me, that’s all. I already know I’ll feel that way to get you.”
    A fella was walking by me in the corridor with a stack of papers, and he glanced at me sharply, then looked away. I never said things like that, let alone in front of anyone else, but that didn’t matter, either.
    “Please come get me,” she said again. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
    Then there was only silence. She’d rung off.

    I didn’t even finish the meeting. Five minutes later, I was back in the car, and fifteen minutes after that, I was walking into the café.
    I’d resisted the temptation to ring Walter on the drive over. My attorney knew the meaning of “urgent.” If he hadn’t rung me back, it was because he didn’t know the answer yet. I also resisted the urge to dwell on the negative possibilities. Every problem had a solution, and as this was a simple problem, it would have a simple solution.
    Hope, though…not so much. She defied me, and frustrated me, and exasperated me, and then she did it again. She pushed me past every rigid barrier I’d ever placed for myself, and I kept coming back for more.
    Just now, she was looking up as I walked through the door, her flower of a face tight and closed, exactly as her voice had been on the phone. I headed over there fast, and she stood up, moving as jerkily as a puppet on strings. Karen rose as well from her spot opposite her. As soon as I got there, I said, “Something’s wrong, eh. What?”
    “If Hope tells you,” Karen said, “we’ll both know. You keep screwing this up,” she told her sister, “and I don’t get it! Hemi’s great. He’s perfect. He makes everything happen like magic, and you don’t want it? Why not?”
    Hope said, “There’s no magic. It doesn’t exist. There’s no fairy tale.”
    “Rubbish.” I was suddenly furious. I had enough on my plate just now. What more did I have to do to prove myself to her? “There’s magic, and we’ve got it. You know we do.”
    “Oh?” She’d crossed her arms, and her big blue-green eyes were flashing seven kinds of danger signals. If she tended to look like a kitten, the kitten’s claws were in full evidence now. “Is that what you told your first wife,