7. A Petty Betty

Chapter 7

A Petty Betty

G race

I stared at the ceiling of the hotel room, contemplating the meaning of my life. This was godly uncomfortable in my condition, but I didn't care. I'd spent most of last night making plans and researching options. By the time I couldn't handle anything else, it was early morning. I'd tried desperately to fall asleep, but my mind was still running. If it wasn't the scenes from the restaurant; it was thoughts and questions about the future. I was emotionally and physically exhausted, but the adrenaline had kicked in.

I mentally tried to pick at the small paint chip in the ceiling as I contemplated where I'd gone wrong. I started with our college days, looking for any signs. There were none. We had talked daily, attended classes, and hung out when we had free time for four years. His family had lived close to my father, and so we had seen each other in the summers. It hadn't been perfect. We had been too young to know what an actual relationship should look and feel like, but I didn't think it was bad either. There were no obvious signs that I could think of that would have led to this.

Moving forward in our dating timeline, I passed our engagement and went straight to our wedding. I still couldn't see anything that should have caused me alarm. It wasn't until I'd gone job hunting that the flags flew in the wind. I'd worked through high school and freelanced through college for extra spending money, so once we had moved into the home Matt purchased, I had wanted to work. That had been the source of our first fight. He didn't want me away from the house, and I didn't want to sit at home, relying on him. He'd used my safety as his reasoning, but thinking about it, it was more about control. If I had been out of the house, I might have realized sooner how much I was changing to please him. He wasn't changing at all.

A tear fell down my cheek as I thought about all the times I'd tried to celebrate my success. The first time I'd landed a client, I'd been sitting at the dining room table with my laptop. The house only had one room that was suitable for an office, and Matt had commandeered it. I'd made breakfast, eggs and sausage, and he'd been sitting at the head of the table, eating.

"Hey, guess what?" I'd looked over at him as I bit off a piece of sausage.

"Do you have to chew like an animal? If you'd put the computer down, you could focus a little more on your manners." He'd snapped off a piece of sausage from his fork, and I had refrained from telling him to look in the mirror.

"You know I had that company put together a website for me. Well, this party planner contacted me through it, and we discussed all of her needs. She just wrote me to submit a proposal for all the work we discussed and as long as it's the same, she'll book me."

"Why would you want to do that? You won't have enough time to complete the job." He went back to eating his breakfast. As far as he was concerned, the topic was over.

"It's a big contract, so I am going to go for it. She said as long as I get it to her by noon, she'll decide today. If she picks me, do you want to go out to celebrate?" I was trying not to bounce in my chair.

"No, I am not giving up my free time after work. Make sure dinner is ready on the table." He'd stood from his chair and walked out the front door, leaving his breakfast dishes on the table.

I remembered being upset, but I hadn't seen the issues like I did now. It was no wonder that after a few times of trying to tell him about my clients, I'd stopped. It was always the same thing, and I'd end up feeling worse than the last time.

However, a few nights after, he'd come home to dinner on the table. Matt had taken one look at it and announced that we were heading out. He wasn't eating leftovers, so he graciously gave me enough time to throw it all out. The rules were never fair. I had just become numb to it.

There was one small thought that floated around in my brain. Sabre wouldn't have treated me like that. I hadn't spent enough time with him to know, but somehow, I was steadfast.

Looking at the clock on the nightstand, I saw I had a few more minutes to lie there before I had to get up and shower for my appointment. Picking up my phone, I turned it on. There was a missed call from Meredith, but I didn't return it. I'd talk to her later if I was up to it.

Pulling up the text messages, I once again typed out a quick note to Sabre. I debated on whether to send it. He had told me to call if I needed him, and there was a broken piece of me that did. I needed to hear him call me mama and make me laugh at some dumb joke. However, I also knew that I was about to be a single mother, and no one wanted to be saddled with a kid that wasn't theirs.

When I was ready to leave, I reached for my purse on the chair. Catching my reflection in the mirror, I stopped short and analyzed the woman looking back at me. I was the perfect trophy wife. My hair was done, my makeup was flawless, and I even had a dress and heels on. I watched in the mirror as I raised my hand to pat a stray hair down. The woman looking back at me was real. The only thing that was missing was my smile. It'd been gone for a while. The outside was spotless, and the inside was a chaotic mess.

I drove to the restaurant, which wasn't far from the hotel I had booked. Once I parked, I couldn't find the strength to walk to the front door. The car was my haven, and the meeting that I needed to occur was anything but.

I took a deep breath and made my way to the front door. Walking in, I scanned the dining room for Mr. McNally.

"Ma'am, are you here for the two gentlemen in the corner? They said they were waiting for a third," the hostess asked me.

"No, I am only dining with one man. "

"I am pretty sure they're waiting for you." She led me over to the table in the corner. On one side sat David McNally, his posture stiff and formal, a briefcase by his side—a typical image of a lawyer. On the other side, Sabre leaned back in his chair, his presence a stark contrast with his leather jacket and rugged demeanor. I didn't know what he was doing here, but I was grateful.

A surge of emotion made my heart race. I wanted to run to him, throw my arms around his neck, and bury my face in his shoulder. My feet picked up the pace, and my arms rose on their own. The clinking of dishes and murmur of conversations brought me back to reality as I approached. We were in a busy restaurant, and I was still a married woman. My arms fell to my sides, and I forced a polite smile, suppressing the urge to show how much I needed him.

They both stood as I approached the table. Thanking the hostess, I turned towards them.

Sabre was the first to move. He reached for my elbow and gently guided me a few steps towards him. Bending down, he kissed my cheek and placed his lips to my ear. "You're in some serious shit, mama. You don't disappear on me like that." He kissed my ear and pulled away.

I took a second to regain my composure before I turned toward Mr. McNally. "Thank you for coming. I know this was short notice, but I appreciate it." I held my hand out for him to shake. "Have you met Sabre?"

"We've met, but Grace, I'll need your permission to continue with this in front of him."

"No, that's fine," I said. I tried to take my seat like a lady, but my center of gravity had changed. I felt Sabre's hand on my back as he helped guide me into my chair. When I was comfortable, both men took their seats to continue.

"I am sorry, Grace, but I am at a loss on how I can assist you," Mr. McNally said. "Your invite didn't mention the circumstances."

"I am sorry. You were the first person I thought of to help me divorce Matt, and it slipped my mind," I replied. I took a quick look at Sabre out of the corner of my eye, but he didn't seem surprised .

"On what grounds?" Mr. McNally sputtered.

"It doesn't matter, but if it's important then irreconcilable differences and infidelity."

Mr. McNally puffed out his cheeks as his face became red. "Matt wouldn't cheat." He paused, trying to gather his thoughts as his tongue hung out of his mouth. "That's quite an accusation."

"Oh, it's the truth." I smiled at him.

The waitress came over and asked if we would like drinks before ordering. Sabre shifted in his chair and pulled out his wallet. Giving her a hundred-dollar bill, he told her, "I don't think we'll be getting food, so consider this your tip for the table."

"Of course, sir," she replied, like a happy little clamshell, and scampered off to another table.

Once she was gone, I looked at Mr. McNally. "I'd like you to represent me in terminating my marriage," I said, pulling out a stack of papers that I had worked on overnight. "I'd like half of all marital assets, including his 401K and investment accounts. You'll find the account numbers and current balances here."

Mr. McNally scanned each page. I didn't know if he was trying to protect Matt's privacy, but I'd made copies in case this went south. His eyes were wide as he started with the first page, but each page made them bug out even more. When he reached the last page, he sighed before setting the stack face down on the table and turning towards me. "Grace, you can't possibly take half of what Matt has worked hard for."

"This is California. I don't think that I need to explain to you I am entitled to half and more for support. This baby needs a future." I placed my hand on my bump, trying to make a bigger impact.

"Will the biker provide when the money runs out?" Sabre wasn't happy with that statement. I watched as his jaw clenched. His lips pulled back in a snarl, exposing his teeth. When I had first met him, I thought his road name was because of his ability to spring into action. Looking at him now, I realized I'd been mistaken. I now thought of a saber-toothed tiger, strong and sturdy but beautifully powerful. He remained silent, and let me continue on.

"I'd like a stipulation in the proceedings that Matt will relinquish his parental rights to this child. He had no problem abandoning me, and I won't let him do that to an innocent baby."

"Grace, you're being unreasonable. Let's say that you receive half of everything. Once the money runs out, you won't have anything. You have no provable income. Being a socialite doesn't pay the bills," Mr. McNally said. "I also can't, in good conscience, ask Matt to give up his baby."

There was a low growl. "You better walk that tone back," Sabre said. "She's not asking you for your professional opinion. She's telling you what she wants done, and you'll do it without complaint."

I didn't need Sabre to lash out at the lawyer. He had his arms crossed on the table, and I reached over and placed my hand on his forearm. I hoped that would placate him for now.

"No, I think Mr. McNally is right. It will be uncomfortable for him," I said. "I am very sorry that I dragged you out here on a Saturday. I can see what a delicate position this puts you in."

"If I were you, Grace, I'd kiss the ground Matt walks on and forget this whole thing." He rose from the table and stormed out of the restaurant.

"Well, that went as well as I expected," I told Sabre with a smile. I'd planned this meeting to create a conflict of interest. It'd worked out better than I had counted on. He was squinting his eyes at me, as if he had missed something.

"Let's get out of here," I said, as I tried to rise from the chair. It was a no-go. The chair was too low, and I didn't have enough momentum to stand on my own. I laughed at my predicament, and Sabre chuckled along with me as he helped me. Placing his hand on my back, we made our way outside to my car.

"Alright, mama. You have some explaining to do," he said as he trapped me against the passenger door of my car.

"I know. Follow me to the beach? It's not far. "

He took a step back from me and pulled out his phone, hitting a button, and placing it to his ear. "Come get my bike," he said to whomever was on the other side. I assumed it was one of the men from the club. I tried not to pay attention and give him his space, but he never looked away from me. My eyes stayed connected to his as I listened to his side of the conversation.

"You're not busy, so get your ass over here…You ride bitch with Wreck all the time, so what's the problem?" He smiled. "Yeah, you do that, and I'll break your balls." He hung up the phone, still smiling.

I didn't want to question, but I was curious what had just happened. He swiped at his lips with his fingertips before he offered an explanation. "My little brother, Pretty. He has a fascination with busting my ass over you. He can't help himself. One too many times dropped on his head."

I smiled, thinking about the genuine affection clearly buried beneath the sibling rivalry. I'd never had that with Meredith, and it was probably too late to build that type of relationship. There was too much trauma separating us.

"I can't put you on my bike, and I am not letting you drive on your own," he told me.

"I am more than capable," I teased. "I drove here."

"You are, but you don't have to be." He left it at that. Had Matt ever said something like that?

I opened my passenger door and sat sideways in the seat while we waited. Heels were a necessary evil today, because when McNally ran to Matt, the first question would be about my appearance. I stifled a yawn while we waited.

"You alright?"

"Yes. I didn't sleep well last night."

Before he could say anything more, we heard the sounds of a motorcycle but couldn't see it until they pulled into the parking lot and headed for my car. There were two men sitting on the bike, but it appeared they were in sync.

The driver was bald with a menacing scowl on his face, but the passenger was stunning. He was almost too pretty for words. I scanned his face to see if I could see any familial similarities to Sabre. They had the same basic features, but where Sabre was rugged, Pretty was just pretty.

"If you're not careful, I am going to steal your girl," he called to Sabre.

"You really are choosing violence today, huh?" Sabre called back before turning toward me to make the introductions. "Wreck is the bald asshole, and Pretty's the one who doesn't know when to shut up."

"Eh, occasionally, I am quiet," Pretty said as he patted Wreck's shoulder. Sliding his leg over the bike, he stood and made his way towards us. Wreck nodded at me but didn't come closer.

"Grace," Pretty said as he bent to kiss my hand, like some sort of knight in shining leather.

Sabre shoved Pretty in the shoulder, making him lose his balance. He had to stand or risk falling over onto the pavement. "Knock it off," Sabre said.

"What?" Pretty put on an innocent face. "I was just introducing myself."

"You're cruising for a beat down, and Wreck won't be able to save your dumb ass."

Pretty looked at me again. "He's always so mean to me. Can you fix that for your favorite brother-in-law?" He pouted. The man was deadly to the right person.

I laughed. "Oh, you mean, Grizz?"

Pretty's expression instantly transformed into a wounded face, and he made a scoffing noise. "I'll remember that, missy."

Sabre handed him the bike keys. "Take it back to Meredith's and wait for my call. Chop, chop."

"I'm going to put a few dents in it."