Not Quite Enough
Page 70Maybe not now. Damn, could he have been wrong?
The ding from the elevator kept him from answering the question. Out of it walked a tall, slender blonde with dark sunglasses over her eyes. “There you are,” the blonde said. “I thought I was meeting you outside.”
Monica blinked and dismissed him. “Sorry, Katie. I was detained.” Monica stepped toward the woman she called Katie with an obvious limp.
Trent reached for her again.
Monica snapped out of his grip as soon as he touched her. Her glare kept him from reaching for her again. “I have it, Trent!”
His insides twisted. Could he have spent the last two months accusing her of being just like Connie only to find out he was wrong?
Katie removed her glasses and stepped to Monica’s side. “Trent Fairchild?”
Monica nodded. “C’mon Katie. I’ve had a shitty day and can’t wait to get home.”
Katie glared in Trent’s direction as she helped Monica walk away.
“Monica?” Trent walked between the two of them and the elevator. “We should talk.”
“Why? So you can pretend to listen and then think the worst of me later? I don’t have anything to say to you.”
The door behind them opened. “Mr. Fairchild? We’re ready for you.”
He glanced away when he heard his name. Dammit, he’d screwed up. So completely screwed up.
“Monica, please.”
Monica gripped Katie’s arm. “Let’s get out of here.”
Trent had no choice but to let her go. As they stepped into the elevator, Monica studied the floor and Katie dug a hole into him with her glare, and buried him six feet under.
“I don’t know what I interrupted. Monica looked as if she were about to commit a serious crime when I stepped out of the elevator.”
“And you said Trent was there?” Jessie asked.
“Yeah, looking like someone had just taken his puppy. I don’t care what anyone thinks, there was some serious vibes going between them.”
Jessie smiled. “Good vibes?”
“Deadly ones. At least from Monica. Trent looked like he wanted to throw up.”
“And Monica hasn’t told you what happened?”
“Said she didn’t want to talk about it.”
Sounded like her sister. When something really bugged her, she clammed up. “She’s mad?”
“At first. Then I heard her in the bathroom sniffling, and she doesn’t have a cold.”
“Crying? She was crying?” Now Jessie was worried. “Monica doesn’t cry over anything.”
“I know.”
“You didn’t leave her alone did you?”
“I’m on my way back with wine… and ice cream. I told Dean I was staying over so she won’t be home alone tonight.”
Jessie sighed. “I’ll fly in tomorrow.”
“Good. I’m pulling into the parking lot now.”
Trent’s head was still spinning as he sat next to Monica’s lawyers. Across from the sharks trying to paint her as something other than the angel he knew.
Dammit, what had he done? How could he have thought of her as anything but an angel?
Mr. Goldstein had told him this wouldn’t take long. But that it was imperative he do this face-to-face.
What Trent really wanted to do was find Monica and make sure she was all right. Explain.
Explain what? What an ass**le I am?
“Mr. Fairchild can you tell us, for the record, where you’re currently living.”
Trent told them his brother’s address since he had yet to set up his own residence since leaving Jamaica.
“You do own a home in Jamaica?”
“That’s right. I left the island after the quake.”
The woman, Leslie something or other, smiled and asked, “And you fly helicopters for tourists?”
“That’s right.”
“When did you meet Monica Mann?”
“Two days after the first quake. We were flying the medical staffs back and forth to the hospital.”
“You’d never met her before?” the fat lawyer asked.
“No.”
Trent felt a smile on his lips. “She’s a beautiful woman, I would have remembered seeing her before.”
“Assuming what you say is correct, when did you start sleeping with her?”
“Objection!” Mr. Goldstein sounded just as pissed as Trent felt. “If you’re going to call my witness a liar then we will end this now and you can find out what he has to say in court.”
Leslie held up her hands in retreat. “When did you and Miss Mann become intimate?”
“I don’t see how that is anyone’s business.” He’d left high school and bragging about girls a long time ago.
“Just answer, Trent. Monica has already told them,” Mr. Goldstein said.
“The day the cave collapsed, trapping us inside.”
“But you spent nearly every day with Miss Mann.”
“So?”
“You said yourself she’s a beautiful woman.”
“Is there a question?”
The oldest attorney opened his mouth. “Isn’t it true that you frequently flew in and out of Florida while living in Jamaica?”