The Imposter Marin Montgomery (rom com books to read TXT) 📖

if you’d like me to. I didn’t mean for it to seem like I don’t care . . .”

“No. It’s okay.” I sip my coffee. “I’m just surprised. You haven’t let me out of your sight lately.”

“I worry about you.” He touches my cheek. “I thought you could use some time with Adrienne. I know she’s your best friend and probably a better support system than me right now.”

“Thank you.” I squeeze his hand in mine. “I appreciate you saying that.”

“I always hoped you’d be able to confide in me and tell me all your secrets, but there’s so much you keep in, Sib.” He replaces his glasses with a sigh. “Or maybe I’m not a good enough listener and haven’t made you feel safe enough to share. Either way, you deserve to have your best friend with you, and that’s not me anymore.” He covers his face with his hands. “Maybe it never was.”

His words tug at my heartstrings, and I burst into tears. His own are running down his now-wet cheeks. We swipe at each other’s faces and clutch each other’s shoulders as if we can erase our past mistakes. We’ve had a long marriage, and we’ve made many.

Both of us are scared to move, and our arms stay in a half embrace for a long time.

Eventually, we pull away from each other, and I don’t know if this is goodbye or good luck. Either way, we are both hurting, a sense of finality behind our emotions.

When Adrienne arrives, she’s unusually stoic, and I can tell she’s having a hard time with the reality of today.

We exit through the garage, and my eyes stare at the spot where my Tesla used to sit, now nothing more than an empty space with an oil stain from a previous vehicle. Holden drags his feet behind us and loads my suitcase into the back of Adrienne’s small SUV. He sends me off with a tight hug and a chaste kiss, and the smell of his cologne and the look of his sad eyes are etched in my memory as we back out of the driveway.

We have a long drive to what’s considered a state-of-the-art, luxury rehab facility inspired by the “tranquility of a resort and the secrecy of a mountain hideaway, with expert staff well educated and trained on addictions,” or at least that’s what the website touts.

“They have yoga, which I read can help with detox,” Adrienne mentions. She’s a certified yoga instructor and is a massive proponent of reiki and meditation.

I barely nod.

“Are you even paying attention?”

“Not really.”

“Nerves?” She taps her fingers on the gearshift. “Okay, I got you. You’re afraid, so let’s break it down.”

“It’s more than that,” I admit. “I’m worried about my job.”

“You mean because you’re taking time off to come here? Sib.” She sighs. “You can’t focus on that. Your recovery is the most important thing right now.”

“I know, but I’m also worried about one of my cases.” Adrienne waits for me to elaborate. “I have a client that’s getting a divorce, and I just found out the client’s wife was at the home of one of my colleagues.”

“Okay, but what’s the big deal?” She broods. “You think the wife wants representation from your firm?”

“Something we like to call ethics. Both my client and his wife would have to sign off to have two attorneys from the same firm representing them in their divorce.”

“Since when did attorneys start having scruples?” she teases. “And did your colleague tell you the wife came to them personally?”

“We only do when it benefits us.” I elbow her in the ribs. “Except in this case, it’s Tanner.”

“Isn’t he one of your closest work friends?”

“I thought so.”

“And you didn’t know they knew each other?”

“Nope,” I grumble, wishing I had something to dull the battering ram in my head.

“But how does it affect you?” Adrienne asks gently. “I mean, this sounds like soap opera drama, but why would Tanner be out to get you?”

“Because in my absence, another attorney will take over my cases for me.”

“Babe, I love you, but I’m not following this train. What does your out-of-control ass have to do with Tanner and your client’s wife?”

“If she and Tanner are hooking up and my client’s reassigned to him . . .”

“Then his vested interest is in the wife of your client, which makes you a liability?”

“I’d say collateral damage.” I shudder. “If Tanner’s successful, he’ll represent my client and be privy to all his financial records and bungle his case big-time, but in a way that isn’t obvious. I can be the ‘fall girl’ for the case.”

“How would that work out?”

“I have my suspicions.” I tear at a fingernail. “But it will be hard to prove when he’s not easily accessible to me.”

“Then someone better keep an eye on dear, sweet Tanner,” Adrienne says excitedly. “What about your paralegal? That Leslie chick? Can she watch your back while you’re gone?”

“Possibly.” I lean my head back against the seat. “Except I’m not sure where she falls into this.”

“You think she’s doing you dirty?”

“No. But I don’t know what lies Tanner’s feeding her or what promises he’s made.”

Adrienne pats my knee. “I don’t want to minimize your frustration and hurt with these people, but this is better than all the courtroom nonsense I see on TV.”

I give her a wink. “I’m glad I could provide you entertainment, dear friend.”

We become tenser and less talkative the farther out of town we drive, as the reality sets in this isn’t a girls’ trip to somewhere fun but a severe departure from our everyday lives. The rest of the drive we chat about everything but where we’re headed, and too quickly, we’ve reached our destination, which isn’t where I’m supposed to be.

“Are you really sure about this?” Adrienne asks one last time as we pull up the long, winding driveway. Instead of being at a resort-like rehabilitation facility, we’re on the outskirts of the desert, about two hours outside the city.

“I am.” I ask to borrow her phone.