CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Ronnie and Abel unloaded the garden center truck and drove off. Jenny was setting the plants still in their pots out on the prepared bed, deciding on the precise arrangement, when Dean came striding across the lawn.
Again? “I thought you were living in Mayfield,” she said, putting a large rosemary to one side and tucking her work gloves into her belt. “Why are you always here?”
“I’m not always here. This is the third time. And I can’t stay long.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Jenny, I’ve been thinking.”
“Less good.”
Dean shoved his hands in his pockets and toed at the grass. “You’re making changes I’m not happy with.”
“Is this about Derek again?”
“Yes, it’s about Derek. It’s about Derek taking my place.”
“Dean…are you jealous?”
He gritted his teeth.
Jenny couldn’t help it. She laughed. “I cannot believe you’re jealous. You don’t have the right to be jealous of the man I’m with.”
“Maybe not. I think I do have the right to be cautious about the man my daughter spends her time with, which is what she’ll be doing if you get serious with Tate.”
Jenny’s lizard brain woke up, sensing danger.
Dean continued, “I guess I didn’t see this coming, Jenny. I never pegged you as the happily-ever-after kind of woman. You’re an amazing mother, and that seemed to be enough. You’re hardly romantic. I figured that having a guy around wasn’t a big deal for you. You were never much into sex after Kate. As for intimacy, forget about it. You’re too independent. I don’t think you ever let me in. Half the time we were married I felt superfluous.”
“Half the time we were married, you were absent. You were at a poker game. Or the track. How many times did you go to Vegas and tell me it was a work trip…?”
Dean took his hands from his pockets and held them up in the air, stepping back. “I didn’t come here to fight. I came to set up a meeting. Which, by the way, I could have accomplished with a simple call if you’d give me your phone number.”
“A meeting?”
“A drink. Casual. Nothing to worry about, nothing formal. And I don’t want you to freak out, but I’ll be bringing my lawyer.”
“What?”
“You’re freaking out.”
“I’d be an idiot not to. Who brings a fucking lawyer to a casual meeting?”
“Someone who wants to ensure their rights are being taking into consideration.”
The top of Jenny’s head was going to blow off with rage. “You don’t have any rights.”
“We’ll see. I know that you’re struggling for money—”
“Do you now?”
“—which is why I wanted to give you some, if you’ll recall, but you refused. Don’t feel that you need to lawyer up, too. I know there’s no way you can afford it.”
Jenny stared at him, all smug and satisfied in his (current) financial superiority.
“Let’s take it one step at a time,” he said. “I’m hoping that when we all get together, you’ll be reasonable.”
“Hard to feel reasonable when you’re threatening me, Dean.”
“I’m not threatening you. I’m making a statement. You have to take me seriously, and thus far I don’t think you’ve given my concerns any consideration whatsoever. My hope is that if you and I sit down and we have a lawyer present, purely in an observatory capacity, then you’ll focus on what’s important, get your head straight, and give me a chance.”
Jenny’s jaw had dropped at Dean’s staggering statement. When he finished talking, she held up a finger and said, “Give me a minute?”
Dean nodded encouragingly.
She waited until the adrenaline pumping through her system lowered from full boil to a gentle simmer. “Okay,” she said. “You’ve decided that you don’t want me to have a romantic life because you don’t want Kate to have another man as a father figure. And because you’re doing well financially and can afford it and you know that I’m not doing financially well and I can’t afford it, you want to take advantage and reopen the question of custody and/or visitation rights.”
“I’m not doing this to take advantage or because I don’t want you to have a romantic life. I’m doing this to protect Kate. And you, Jenny. I want to protect you, too.”
“I’m not yours to protect. And how long is this random protective urge going to last, anyway? Until the next bad bet? Which, gotta tell you, Dean, is a lot closer than you think, if you go ahead with this nonsense.”
Dean’s lips tightened.
“Do you even realize what you’re doing right now?” Jenny asked.
“Yes.”
“You realize you’re gambling with me?”
He laughed. “That’s ridiculous.”
“You think I don’t see what you’re doing?”
“I’m protecting my interests.”
“No. You’ve looked at your situation. You’ve looked at mine. Based on the disparity, you’re gambling that I can’t fight you. You’re trying to force me into giving in. Giving you a say in my life. A say you absolutely do not deserve.”
Dean didn’t deny it.
Jenny shook her head. “Remember that you dealt these cards.”
She was still fuming an hour after Dean had left, having agreed to meet him at Kurt’s in two days.
Dean’s biggest problem? He was never satisfied. Jenny had been willing, if reluctant, to allow him back into Kate’s life in some small measure. But this, pushing to gain some control over them?
No.
Scratch that. Dean’s biggest problem wasn’t that he was never satisfied. That was his second biggest problem. His biggest problem was that the man couldn’t bluff for shit.
That’s what all his bluster was. A bluff. A knee-jerk reaction to seeing her moving on, to realizing what he’d lost.
Like it or not, Derek Tate was going to have what Dean had thrown away. And there was nothing Dean could do about it.
Unless he pulled a dick move like this one.
The thing was, while Dean couldn’t bluff, Jenny could. So she’d agreed, and Dean had no idea what kind of anvil she was going to drop on his head.