Chapter Seven
Richard called seven times the next morning before Maggie went out, and she let every one of the calls go directly to voicemail. She couldn’t talk to him, not after yesterday, because yesterday, they’d met at his lawyer’s office to discuss settlement prior to the divorce. She had been so worked up before the meeting because of their illicit tryst against the kitchen wall—afraid Richard would bring it up and somehow block the divorce.
She chewed on a piece of nail hanging from her thumb. “Think, think,” she said, but try as she might, she couldn’t make sense of what had happened in that boardroom as she sat beside her lawyer, across from Richard. The only thing she was clear about was how much she hated that god-awful painting of some ancient battle and resulting c*****e tha
