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I ran up the stairs to change out of my jeans and T-shirt. I quickly picked a pair of black slacks out of the closet and a short-sleeved pink blouse. Satisfied with how I looked in the full-length mirror in the bathroom, I added a coat of mascara and removed my hair from the unkempt ponytail I’d fastened hours earlier. I let the dogs back out for a couple of minutes while I placed the clothes in the dryer. I filled their food dish and then fastened the baby gate in the kitchen. Five minutes later I was approaching the speed limit on the highway.
Although I’d never been to Brook Manor before, I knew where it was located. The Hilton home surpassed my expectations. It was an elegant Colonial with a stone façade on about two acres. The grounds were a lush green and perfectly landscaped with several flower beds still perfect at this time of year. As I pulled into the marble driveway behind Jacques’ convertible, I noticed a gazebo off to the right.
Jacques was leaning against the driver’s door, chatting amicably on his cell. He always looked the same—cool, polished, and professional. Jacques seldom dressed down, even when he was at home with his family. Today he wore a blue pinstriped suit, light blue Oxford, and a striped blue and white silk tie. His thick blond hair had started to recede at the temple the last few years, and he’d recently grown a well-trimmed goatee. I enjoyed teasing him that loss of hair went along with parenting.
He studied me from behind his Gucci eyeglasses as I approached, nodding his head at the person on the other end who couldn’t see him. “Certainly, Mr. Dills. Yes, the closing is set for two o’clock tomorrow afternoon. Don’t forget to bring your checkbook.” He clicked off and gave me a peck on the cheek. “You look fabulous, darling. You were made for the real estate business. Just brilliant.”
“All right, cut the flattery. How long have you been waiting?” I asked.
Jacques checked his watch. “I’ve been here for about ten minutes. Pamela must have run out somewhere because no one answered the door when I knocked. She sounded so anxious on the phone, like there was no way this could wait until tomorrow. It’s kind of strange that she wouldn’t be here to greet us. Oh well. Let’s have a look at the grounds while we wait for her.”
We walked around to the back of the house. A white iron fence ran around a hot tub and a fabulous inground swimming pool shaped like a lagoon. The stone patio held several comfortable-looking chaise lounges. There was also a firepit and a Tommy Bahama dining set. It looked like the perfect setup for a successful attorney and his family to entertain.
“I still can’t believe they’re divorcing,” I said. “They always seemed like the perfect couple.”
Jacques flashed me a winning smile. “Sort of like you and Gregory, eh? By the way, how is my favorite auto parts salesman?”
I smiled. “He’s busy but doing well. No need to worry about us.” I couldn’t imagine life without Greg, nor would I want to.
A blast of heavy metal music filled the air, followed by the squeal of tires in the driveway. Jacques cocked his head to the side to listen. “That must be your old roommate now.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Not unless she’s changed her taste in music. Pam was always more the Celine Dion type.”
A young man in his early twenties was getting out of his Jeep. He was extremely attractive, with brown wavy hair, dark eyes, and a cleft in the center of his chin.
The man slammed his driver’s door and then caught sight of us. With a confident smile, he waved. “Hi. Are you the real estate agents?”
Jacques puffed out his chest slightly. “Jacques Forte, owner of Forte Realty. And this is my associate, Cindy York.”
“It’s a pleasure. Max Hilton.” Max shook Jacques’ hand and then mine, while studying my face closely. “You went to school with my mom, right?”
I’d met Pam’s sons’ years ago but knew they wouldn’t remember me. “Yes, we were college roommates. We had some fun times together.”
It seemed like another lifetime ago that Pam and I had shared that tiny dorm room. We’d had all night cram sessions for exams, indulged in Ramen noodles cooked in our microwave, or attended the occasional keg party being held in another dorm room. I’d been a different person back then, timid and soft spoken but full of hope and anticipation for my future. I was confident that I’d somehow wind up making a splash in the marketing world. How life has a way of changing.
Max smiled. “I’ll bet. I’m in my final year at Skidmore.”
“That’s great,” I exclaimed. “My daughter Darcy is in her third year at Florida State. She received a partial scholarship there.” She’d wanted a warm climate, and the scholarship had been a huge help, so Greg and I had agreed to let her go. I missed her every day, but we had to let her grow up sometime.
“Good for her. I’ve got a friend who goes to Florida State.” He chuckled. “He’s lucky he didn’t flunk out of high school. I guess just about anyone can get in there. I’m a Physics major myself.”
His remark sounded rude and snobbish, so I merely smiled in response. I was proud of my daughter. Darcy wanted to be a teacher, and Greg and I totally supported her career choice. I found myself wondering what Kevin and Pam were like now. They’d always been down to earth and casual. Had his career as a high-profile attorney changed both of them?
“Is your mother home?” Jacques asked. “We had an appointment to see her.” He checked his watch again. “Fifteen minutes ago.”
Max’s smile faded. “I thought she was here. Did you knock on the door?”
“There was no answer,” I volunteered.
“Hang on a second.” Max punched a code into a panel on the side of the garage door, which rose to reveal a shiny red Mercedes inside. A shadow passed across his face. “Excuse me. I’ll go in and check on her. Mom’s gotten into the habit of taking naps during the day. She doesn’t sleep well at night, so that might be why she didn’t hear you. I’ll let you both in the front soon.” He opened a door inside the garage and then closed it behind him with a certain finality, leaving us standing there.
Jacques checked his watch. “A nap at this hour? It’s noon. Is she a vampire?”
“Don’t be like that,” I scoffed. “Pam must be stressed out big-time with the divorce. That’s probably why she can’t sleep at night.”
As much as I adored Jacques, I would have preferred to meet with Pam by myself today. I suspected that she might not be as forthcoming about her marital problems with Jacques here. Then again, she had volunteered the information to him that they were divorcing.
Max opened the front door, a sheepish grin upon his face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so rude. Please come in. Mom will be down in a minute. She hates for anyone to see her until she puts on her face.”
“My word,” Jacques breathed as he looked around the foyer. “This is a stunning home.”
The home was pristine, with high decorative ceilings and travertine flooring. Although I’d never been inside before, I’d once seen pictures of it in the local newspaper. Kevin had been interviewed here by the local paper when he’d once briefly considered running for mayor. I remembered seeing Pam next to him on the couch, holding his hand and beaming at him with pride. Had their relationship been on the outs even then?
The reporter had included so many pictures of the house that I’d wondered at the time if she mistakenly thought the piece was meant for House Beautiful. According to the article, Mrs. Hilton kept a lovely home with no staff to help her. There were crystal chandeliers in every room and a wall of windows off of the dining room where one could view the deck and inground pool.
The living room was done in all white. There was a white leather sectional, a matching loveseat, thick shag carpeting, and walls with expensive artwork hanging on them. To my left was a winding staircase, and beyond it I glimpsed a dining room with a maple buffet and table for ten people. Pam and Kevin must have hosted several dinner parties over the years.
“Your mother certainly keeps everything in perfect condition.” I studied a beautiful pottery vase on the receiving table in the foyer. Pam had always had exquisite taste. My home didn’t even come close. Last night I’d found Rusty and Dobby with their heads underneath the couch cushions, duking it out over a Cheez-It the twins had dropped. Dobby had won.
Max laughed. “Mom doesn’t clean. She has a housekeeper, Denise, who comes in every day.”
I’d figured that the line in the newspaper article about Pam not having staff had to be a lie. She’d kept her part of our dorm in worse shape than mine.
Max colored suddenly, as if embarrassed by his comment. See, Denise needed a job, so Mom tried to help her out. She was my grandmother’s best friend before she died.” He paused. “My brother and I aren’t exactly neat freaks. When we were younger, I bet we were the biggest slobs around.”
His statement made me smile. “I can relate. I have thirteen-year-old twin boys. Does your mother work?”
“Nope. She’s never worked.” Max pressed his lips together in a thin, hard line. “But she may have to now.”
Jacques and I exchanged glances. “We’re sorry to hear that your parents are divorcing,” I said.
“Yes, indeed,” Jacques chimed in.
“Don’t be.” Max’s tone turned bitter. “All they’ve ever done is fight, for as long as I can remember. Unfortunately, my dad’s really screwing Mom over. He’s forcing her to sell the house even though she loves it. That’s her punishment because she asked for a divorce.”
“Her punishment?” Jacques raised his eyebrows in alarm.
A soft laugh sounded to my left. “That’s exactly right. My husband is determined to see me suffer.”
I turned to see a tall, woman with long dark hair cascading over her shoulders standing on the staircase. For a moment, all I could do was stand there, watching her. She came forward and flung her arms around me.
“Cindy. It’s so good to see you.”
“Pam!” I kissed her porcelain cheek. “It’s been way too long. You look amazing.”
Pam was still a beauty, with large dark eyes, pouty red lips and a gleaming smile. Her skin was stretched tightly around her eyes and forehead, making me think she’d either had Botox treatments or a facelift. Although her smile was genuine, there was an expression in those deep-set eyes of hers that appeared to be rooted in pain.
She took my hands in hers. They were as cold as ice, and I nearly yelped from the contact. A powerful smell drifted through the air towards me. It surrounded Pam like a halo, and then I understood about her daytime naps. Had she been drinking this early in the day? When we were in college, Pam hadn’t even liked alcohol. She’d drink an occasional beer so that the others wouldn’t think she was uncool, but she’d never cared for it.
“Please forgive my manners,” I said. “Jacques, this is Pam Hilton. Pam, this is my boss, Jacques Forte. I believe you two spoke on the phone earlier.”
Jacques stretched his hand out. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Hilton.”
“Please call me Pam,” she insisted. “Why don’t we go outside and talk on the patio? It’s such a beautiful day. Goodness knows there won’t be many more this year. Winter will be here before we know it.” She turned to her son. “Max dear, will you ask Denise to bring us coffee out there?”
“Sure.” Max started towards the kitchen then glanced at his mother worriedly. “Did you want me to join you, Mom?”
She shook her head. “No, thank you, darling. I know that you have class. Drive safely.”
Max opened his mouth as if to say something then shut it without a word. When he noticed me staring, he forced a smile to his lips. “It was nice to meet you both.”
“Likewise,” Jacques said cordially.
We followed Pam outside to the stone patio, where we seated ourselves around a blue teakwood table with matching chairs. The water from the pool glittered in the sparkling sunlight and looked inviting. It was the second week of September, and people in the area were already starting to close their pools for the upcoming season.
Jacques must have guessed my thoughts. “Are you still using the pool?” he asked.
“Not me,” Pam admitted. “I’ve never been much of a swimmer, but Kevin loves it. He was on the swim team in college, and he’s kept up his membership at the Country Club so that he can use their pool during winter months." Her nostrils flared. “He’s insisted that we keep ours open until the end of September and even has some of his associates coming over for a pool party tomorrow night! Can you believe it?”
“I hope it’s heated,” I joked, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Oh yes. Of course.” Pam shielded her eyes from the sunlight and glanced up at the second story balcony. “The only thing I like about it is the view from our—I mean, my bedroom. You can see the entire pool from there. When the sun is shining like today, it looks like a shimmering piece of heaven.”
There was a catch in her voice, and Jacques glanced at me worriedly. He was a sympathetic realtor and listener, but it always made him uncomfortable when clients cried. I didn’t do well with it either.
“That will make a great selling point to note in the listing.” Jacques typed something into his phone.
An elderly woman with short salt-and-pepper hair appeared, holding a tray with a silver coffee pot, cups, and a small plate of cookies. She set the tray in front of Pam. “Will there be anything else, Pam?”
“No, thank you, Denise.”
Denise nodded, glanced curiously at both Jacques and me, then departed without another word.
I waited until she was out of earshot before taking up the conversation again. “Jacques told me about your divorce. I’m so sorry. Are you and Kevin still living here together?”
Pam poured coffee into china cups. “We’re both technically still living here, if that’s what you mean. Kevin comes home for an occasional change of clothing or a meal, but he spends most nights at his girlfriend’s place.”
This was worse than I thought. “He’s been cheating on you?”
She handed Jacques the cream and sugar. “Only for the past three years. Funny, isn’t it? Everyone always thought I made the perfect marriage. Well, they were wrong. As soon as I started gaining weight and wrinkles, Kevin started looking for greener pastures.” Her voice trembled. “And he found some.”
“Oh, Pam.” I didn’t know what else to say.
Pam sipped her coffee and stared into space. “She’s his secretary, of course. But isn’t that the way it always happens? I literally caught them in the act one night at his office. On his desk.”
Ew. Way too much information for me.
“He played me for a fool,” Pam sniffed. “As soon as I caught them, I asked him for a divorce. I thought Kevin would plead for a second chance, but no, it was the opportunity he was looking for. All I wanted in return was the house. Nate turns eighteen next year, so custody of the kids wasn’t an issue.”
“It sounds like you were being fair,” Jacques remarked.
Pam’s mouth hardened. “I thought so, but Kevin refused. He insists that we split any profit equally. And he feels that he’s being generous by doing so. After all, what have I done to contribute to his business? All I did was raise two children and keep a nice home.”
Ouch. I tried to help her see the bright side. “Once the house sells, at least that will be enough money for you to start your life over elsewhere.”
She stared down at the floor. “You’d think so, but the house isn’t free and clear. Kevin put a second mortgage on it a few years ago. He told me that a client was trying to sue his firm and he needed to have some money put aside.” Pam shook her head ruefully. “I was so stupid. For all I know, that was a lie, and he went and bought his trampy girlfriend a Lamborghini. I trusted him. Besides, I still have Nate to think about. Once the house sells, we’ll get a little apartment somewhere nearby until he finishes school and goes off to college.”
“Don’t you have some money of your own put aside?” I asked.
Pam shook her head. “Kevin pays me an allowance. I’ve never worked. He wouldn’t allow it. He said my job was to stay home and take care of the kids. I raised money for charities. I did everything a dutiful wife should. I’ve got about five thousand dollars in my bank account. That’s all.”
What an awful situation to be put in, and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to be privy to it. Warning signs flashed in my head. “Pam, are you sure that Kevin won’t mind me being the listing agent? He knows we’re friends. I would understand if you had to pick someone else.”
Jacques gave me a sharp kick under the table. Sure, I might understand, but that didn’t mean he would.
Pam didn’t notice. “It’s fine,” she said. “I already told him that if I agreed to his terms, I wanted you to handle the sale. He didn’t seem to care as long as he can get top value for the house, and it sells within thirty days.”
Jacques’ mouth fell open in amazement. “Thirty days? Pamela, it’s a gorgeous house and all, but nothing is a sure thing, especially in this business.”
“I know that.” Pam bit into her lower lip. “I love this house. And I don’t want to sell it at any price. It’s the only real home I’ve ever known. We’ve had such happy times here, especially me and my sons.”
“Is there any way that Kevin would let you buy him out?” Jacques asked.
Pam barked out a laugh. “No way, period.”
“How are your sons handling all of this? The divorce, and the home sale?” Max had seemed fine, but I’d only spoken to him for a minute.
Pam dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “They’re okay. Mostly, they’re concerned for me. Max lives at the dorm, and Nate’s in his final year of high school then he’ll be off to college as well. All their father cares about are himself and Katie.”
"Katie’s his girlfriend?” I asked softly.
Pam snickered. “More like his tramp, you mean. Katie Whitcomb’s worked for Kevin for five years, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been carrying on from the beginning. Did I mention that she’s only a couple of years older than Max?”
Yikes. This was worse than I’d thought.
To my surprise, Pam chuckled. “Kevin is afraid that the divorce might bring his firm some unwanted publicity, so I’m secretly hoping that it takes a long time for the house to sell. Let him suffer.”
Jacques raised his eyebrows at me. I knew that Pam was not the same person anymore. She’d become bitter, angry, and appeared to have a drinking problem. The warning signs in my head flashed brighter.
Pam seemed to realize that she’d said too much. “Enough about me. How’s your family, Cindy? I hope you did better in the marriage department than I did.”
“You were at my wedding,” I reminded her.
She snickered. “Yes, I know. Back then, everyone pretended to be happy. These days people don’t have to pretend anymore. Please tell me that you’re happy, not putting on a charade like I’ve done for the last twenty years.”
“I am happy.” It was the truth. Greg was a devoted husband and father, and I honestly didn’t know what I would do without him. We loved and trusted one another. No one had a perfect marriage, but we came close. Greg would turn fifty next year, and I wasn’t far behind him. Like a fine wine, he only improved with age. But this didn’t seem the time to get into all of Greg’s good points. “I’ve been very lucky,” I simply added.
Pam smiled and squeezed my hand. “I’m glad to hear that true love still exists.”
Jacques cleared his throat. “I brought along a contract with me, but since the house isn’t in your name alone, Pamela, you husband will have to sign as well.”
“That won’t be a problem,” a deep voice said.
Jacques and I turned to see a man standing on the other side of the fence. He opened the gate and walked towards us. He was tall and dressed in a well-tailored black suit. Despite the receding hairline and a bit of softening around the middle, Kevin Hilton hadn’t changed much. His face was tan from the summer’s sun and his eyes dark as coffee beans without a hint of cream.
He reached forward to take my hand and pressed it against his lips. “Cindy. It’s been way too long.”
Startled by the gesture, I pulled my hand away and a sharp object pierced my finger. “Ouch!”
Kevin grimaced and waved his pinky finger in the air. “Sorry. I’ve got to have the jeweler do something about this ring. The edge catches on everything. Your finger’s not bleeding, is it?”
“No, it’s fine.” I stared down at the offending ring. I’d never seen anything like it before. It was a beautiful gold and onyx band surrounded by several diamonds and appeared to be vintage. “It’s nice to see you again, Kevin.”
“You look fantastic, Cindy. You haven’t aged a bit.” Kevin narrowed his eyes at Pam and then held out his left hand to Jacques, which I noticed bore no wedding ring. “This is your associate, I presume?”
“Jacques Forte of Forte Realty.” Jacques smiled cordially as he extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise. Thanks for coming out to look at the house.” Kevin turned to me. “As Pamela has probably already mentioned, we’d like the house listed as soon as possible. The sooner we can live separate lives, the better.”
The look Pam gave her husband surprised me. I’d expected one of heated anger or bitterness, but the love she’d had for him on her wedding day was still there. She noticed me staring and blinked rapidly. My heart filled with pity for her. I tried to think of something to say to steer away from this awkward moment. Anything.
I cleared my throat noisily. “Jacques, would you like to go through the house and take pictures, or shall I do it?”
Jacques rose from the table, looking grateful for a chance to escape the drama. “I’ll take the pictures for the virtual tour, Cin. Why don’t you gather the rest of the details from Kevin and Pam.” He turned to her. “Would that be okay? This way, we can get the house up on the Multiple Listing Service today, and the sign man out here first thing tomorrow morning.”
MLS stood for Multiple Listing Service, and it was where agents viewed and entered information about homes that were for sale.
“Sounds good to me,” Kevin agreed. “And this is a great day to take the pictures since our housekeeper’s here today.” He chuckled. “Tomorrow, the place will be back to normal. Empty liquor bottles all over the floor and—”
Pam jumped to her feet, almost knocking the table over in the progress. “How dare you say such a thing! I’ve always kept this house clean!”
Kevin suppressed a yawn. “Come on, Pammy. Why don’t you tell these folks the truth? You’re so drunk most days you can barely get out of bed in time for dinner.”
Pam clenched her fists at her sides. “I won’t stay here and listen to this. You aren’t the same person I married. Haven’t you hurt me enough?” She burst into tears and hurried to the patio door. On the way, her left leg connected with one of the chaise lounges. With a scream, she stumbled and fell onto the concrete. Jacques and I both rushed over to help her up while Kevin remained motionless.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
Pam blinked back tears as she brushed her slacks off. “Yes, I’m fine. I—I sprained my ankle last week, and I guess it hasn’t healed yet.”
“Sprained ankle?” Kevin jeered. “Boy, that’s rich. Maybe it would help if you didn’t start drinking at nine in the morning.”
A sob rose in Pam’s throat. “Cindy, if you’ll excuse me, Kevin will give you all the information you need. I have some things to do upstairs. I trust that I’ll be seeing you again soon. And Mr. Forte, it was a pleasure to meet you.” She closed the sliding door behind her without another word.
Kevin poured himself a cup of coffee at the table and casually punched numbers into his iPhone. “Some performance, huh?” he said, without looking up.
“Excuse me?” Jacques asked.
Kevin rolled his eyes at the sky. “My soon-to-be ex-wife. She should have been an actress. It’s hard to believe she used to be a knockout, eh, Cindy?” He shook his head ruefully. “That’s what booze will do to you.”
Jacques and I were speechless, but Kevin wasn’t waiting for an answer. He stretched back in the chair and put the phone to his ear. “Bruce? Yes, Kevin Hilton here. Fine, thanks. Have you heard any updates on Jill Thornton’s trial yet? Sure, I’ll hold.” He rose and walked away from the table then seemed to remember that we were still there. “Sorry, guys. I’ll only be a minute.”
Jacques shook his head in disgust as Kevin circled the pool while talking on his phone. “That man is revolting.”
“My thoughts exactly. Listen, Jacques, I don’t know about this.”
Jacques placed a hand on my arm. “Cin, I don’t want to put any pressure on you, but my instincts tell me this house will sell quickly. I know it’s an uncomfortable situation, but you always have to separate your true feelings from the job. Remember, it’s only a sale.”
I sighed heavily. Greg and I could use the money, there was no doubt about that. Still, I wasn’t sure. Seeing Pam again had not evoked the fond memories of our friendship. She was a former shell of herself and had turned to alcohol to drink her troubles away. Plus, Kevin’s treatment of her had left a bitter taste in my mouth. But Pam was counting on me, and I didn’t want to disappoint her. She’d had enough of that in her lifetime.
“We might as well go through with it,” I said. “I can’t stand watching Kevin treat Pam like garbage, but hopefully this is the last we’ll see of him.”