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forever, so I breezed past him.

At the next cut-out in the highway, I pulled a swift U-turn. Five cars sat in front of me in the right-hand turn lane. Brock craned his neck, and I knew what he saw. Our guy was third in line, and none the wiser to our oncoming approach.

“You’re pretty good, Ramsey.”

I smiled.

“Or pretty lucky. Depending.”

I looked at him for a second. “Shut up, newbie.”

Three of the five cars moved forward, even though a sign said, “No Turn on Red.” Our guy turned on to the road, and we soon followed suit. With four cars between us, I saw him make a left into a Courtyard by Marriott parking lot.

“Bingo-bango,” Brock said.

I coughed out a chuckle. “Don’t be so sure. Multi-story structure. How are we gonna get the goods, Sully?”

He groaned. “Are you serious? ‘The goods?’ We have to get them in the act?”

I looked at him for quite a while before I asked, “‘Uncle?’”

He exhaled before he said, “No. Not yet. Dammit.”

WHEN I PULLED INTO our office parking lot, Brock sighed. “Seriously? We have to do this shit all over again tomorrow?”

I shrugged. “Gotta talk to Paul about it. We got them kissing, and we have his vehicle and her vehicle in a hotel parking lot during work hours.”

Brock shook his head. “He’ll probably claim he doesn’t know what kind of car she drives or some shit.”

I nodded. “It’ll help when Deanne gets us the other woman’s name based on the plate. Anyway, a decent divorce attorney can make what we have work, but my hunch is our client scraped together the last bit of her savings to nail this guy to the wall. Not sure this helps compared to ‘the goods’ as you put it. The goods means he caves... most of the time. A guy like this, definitely caves.”

“What?” he asked.

“He’s not well-to-do. He’ll cave and that’s that. If she were married to a guy with more means, more resources, it wouldn’t go to settlement, it’d require the full Monty to get her what she deserves.”

“And what’s she deserve?” he asked reflexively.

I let that slide. I knew we had different views on women because we’d had different types of men in our lives... which ultimately meant we had different types of women in our lives. His father was so good and upstanding. Whether that had anything to do with why his mother left, I’d never know and I didn’t want to know, but I knew that my father was so bad, vile, and ugly that the fact my mother not only persisted but persevered made her the salt of the earth.

“She deserves the truth at a minimum, Brock. It’s what we’re paid to deliver.”

He opened his door, nodding. “Yeah. I wish we didn’t have to photograph them in the act, though.”

We both got out of the car and walked into the building. “Yeah, you’re gonna have to get over that.”

Deanne, the administrative assistant for the group, told us Paul was out of the office. Brock and I went to our desks and wrote up our reports.

An hour later, we both left for the day.

Walking out to the parking lot, I asked, “How’s your girl like Disney? You said she didn’t get that role as Elsa.”

His tight-lipped smile spoke volumes. “Yeah. She won’t admit it, but I think Disney isn’t really her thing.”

I nodded. “Yeah. She looking for a new job?”

“Not yet. One thing at a time, you know.”

“Oh yeah. I get that.”

“What about you? Raegan leave town?”

“No, but I’m sure she will soon.”

Raegan

IN THEORY, I SHOULD have been interviewing people to check in on Mom so I could get back to New York. Yet, I had no motivation to do any of that. The thought of lining up strangers to check on Mom drove home the fact my sister wasn’t here to do it anymore. What would stop these people from taking advantage of Mom? From casing the joint? I shook my head because that last thought sounded like I’d watched one too many old movies, which I had.

A little voice suggested I ask Tanya to hang with her while these people came in to do their jobs, but I simply couldn’t ask that of her.

That little voice didn’t let up though, and instead asked, why I couldn’t relocate to Orlando? There were plenty of decent agencies in town. The work wouldn’t be as big as my work on national accounts, but work was work, right?

I wanted to punch that little voice, because I didn’t spend ten years in the Big Apple just to run back home.

Though, I wouldn’t be running really. More like life redirected me. It should be a no-brainer. Mom took care of me for decades, and now she needed me to take care of her.

I texted Angela asking her about where her aunt used to live. A year or so back, her Aunt Liz fell and had to live in a facility for six months. It wasn’t ideal, because the cost of living in New York was exorbitant, so getting care for Mom would be twice as expensive and would eat up my money at a rapid clip.

However, I was thirty-three and had started making a name for myself two years ago. If I moved to Orlando, regional agency executives might attribute my success to my former spouse, not so much my own talent. At least during my interview with Eastern, Sharpe, and Prescott, the panel made it clear they recognized my talent.

My phone chimed with a text from Angela.

Aunt Liz was at a facility in Queens. Your mom up for snow and bitter cold?

I loved Angela. Always pragmatic and forward-thinking, that woman.

And with a simple question, I had the very reason I couldn’t uproot Mom. It didn’t often freeze in Orlando, but when it dipped into the forties for a couple days in a row, Mom’s arthritis flared in the worst way.

Which brought me back to square one. Either find people to help mom,

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