Free The Valentine: The Wedding Pact #4 by Denise Grover Swank Page A

specifically made plans for their first married Valentine’s Day, Blair had decided to come up with her own—Anti-Valentine’s Day 2.0.
    “How much longer will we be here?” Allison asked, her attention still on her screen. “I have plans tonight.”
    Irritation rippled through Blair. “Perhaps if you would act like a grownup instead of a spoiled child, we could be done by now.”
    Her mouth dropped open. “What?”
    “The purpose of this meeting is not to air every single grievance from your two years of marriage. It’s to go through the list of your joint property and come up with an agreement on the division of your assets.”
    Allison gave Blair a full pout. “Like my ass, which is one of my better assets.”
    “I would hope it would be your brain.”
    The woman blinked.
    “Allison,” Blair said with an exaggerated sigh. “Let’s just stick to the list of things you haven’t agreed upon yet and try to come to a resolution for each one. And remember, this is supposed to be a fair distribution.” This was so outside the realm of Blair’s usual cases. Most of the time she was fighting tooth and nail for everything she could get for her client. This was the first time she felt obligated to encourage a client to not insist on everything. Now she knew how most of the attorneys she faced felt.
    “Fine,” Allison said in a huff. “I need to go to the restroom.”
    “You know where it is. I’m going to go check my messages.” Blair left the irritated woman and went down the short hall and around the corner at a fast clip.
    Melissa was sitting at her desk, staring at her computer screen. She glanced up as Blair approached, giving her boss a sympathetic look.
    “How’s it going in there?”
    “It’s a freaking disaster,” Blair whispered. “She’s the poster child for entitlement.”
    Melissa tilted her head with a smirk. “She is a product of the country club.”
    “Don’t remind me. We’re taking a short break, and then we’ll try again. I’m going to call Garrett. Did you check on poor Mr. Albright and Mr. DeSanto?”
    “Not yet.” Melissa’s face puckered. “And poor Mr. Albright, my ass. Dane Albright irritates the crap out of me. His head is so big I have no idea how he carries it around. He must do some impressive neck exercises at the gym.”
    Blair grinned and lifted an eyebrow. “You think he goes to the gym?”
    Her assistant’s face flushed. “Isn’t it obvious?”
    “Not to me,” Blair said. “I guess I’m too busy looking at Garrett.”
    Melissa stood. “You might be married, but you’re not dead—and you don’t have to pretend like you are for Garrett’s sake. Since when does your world revolve entirely around anyone else’s?” Then she stomped off toward the client lounge.
    Blair watched her for a moment, wondering why Melissa had gotten so irritated. Was she insinuating that Blair had changed since she’d gotten married? Just because she chose to focus on her own husband and didn’t drool over other men’s sculpted bodies didn’t mean she’d gone all soft…did it?
    The question nagged her. Before Garrett, she’d been known for her tenacity and her ferociousness. She’d seen fear in men’s eyes when she’d met them in the conference room or in the courtroom. But marriage had softened her. Garrett had softened her. She’d dismissed it in the beginning, but six months after their honeymoon, she knew it to be true.
    Blair had lost her edge.
    And that scared the crap out of her.
    She entered her office and sat at her desk, pulling up her emails as she called Garrett.
    “Hello, beautiful,” he answered in that husky voice that sent her pulse racing.
    “Why aren’t you boarding a plane?” she asked, trying to focus on her computer screen. All she could think about were the promises contained in his sexy voice.
    “My plane’s not in yet. It’s still stuck in Chicago. Something about a snow delay.”
    “But you’re in San Diego.”
    “I know, but I