Las Vegas Night with Her Best Friend
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Tina Beckett
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18,6K
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12
PROLOGUE
EVA MILAGRE LOOKED at the first picture in the small stack and blinked. Tried to process what she was seeing. Her last name might mean miracle in Portuguese, but right now it didn’t look like even a miracle could save her marriage.
“You investigated Brad?”
Her friend on the barstool next to her wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Evie. After you told me his hours had been all wonky and that he’d been evasive about his last overnight trip, it sent up several red flags.”
Her gaze didn’t waver. The picture showed her husband hugging another woman. A raven-haired beauty that made Evie feel tired and rumpled in her scrubs with strands of hair escaping from her clip and falling wildly around her face. It could be something totally innocent. An embrace after closing a deal at his investment firm. But there was no way Darby would be showing her pictures of her husband hugging another woman if it wasn’t something bad. Really bad.
Her thumb hesitated—Evie didn’t want to see anything else. “And the rest of these?”
“They’re worse. I hoped he’d prove me wrong. He didn’t.”
Her friend turned toward her, holding out her hand. “I didn’t think you’d believe me without those. I know how much you love him.”
The thing was, Evie was no longer sure that she did. The pictures just sealed the deal. She handed them back. “And his firm?”
Brad hadn’t shown her the financial statements for his business this year, which she found odd as well. He’d always been so proud of what he’d accomplished, going out on his own almost three years ago. When she’d asked about them, he said he was late in filing them this year.
“He filed for bankruptcy a month ago and gave up the lease on his office space.”
Bankruptcy? God. He’d been leaving home every single day at the same time, kissing her on the mouth and telling her he’d miss her before walking out the door of their home. She’d heard nothing about any kind of trouble. And she’d put a big chunk of her own money toward him opening that business and had trusted him to...
She’d trusted him. Too much. And it looked like she was going to pay the price for that. Swallowing hard, she bit back tears of anger and frustration. “Thank you. I just can’t fathom how he would do something like this.”
“I know. I can’t believe it, either. We both went to college with the guy, and he was voted the most likely to succeed.”
“It looks like he succeeded alright.” Her laugh held more than a hint of desperation as her fingers tightened around the stack of photos. “Only not in the area I expected.” All she could see in her mind’s eye was the woman he was evidently having an affair with. Since they hadn’t had sex in the last six months, the reason made far too much sense—he’d used the excuse of work overload and stress, and she hadn’t challenged him on it. In fact, she’d been secretly relieved, since she could relate to both of those things. She’d been feeling stressed and tired herself recently, their talks of having a baby going up on a shelf until things settled down. Thank God they weren’t still trying. What if she’d been pregnant?
“Do you want to stay with me for a few days?”
A sense of relief washed over her. At least she wouldn’t have to face him. Tonight, anyway. “That would be wonderful.” She held up her hand for another drink and after the bartender brought it over, she took a gulp of the spiked fruity drink. “I can’t promise I’ll be in any shape to drive after this.” She put her glass back to her lips and drank again.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”
“Thanks.” She picked up her phone and pushed the button that would connect her with her soon-to-be ex. She wasn’t surprised when it went straight to voice mail. She decided to just get it over with. “I won’t be home tonight, but when I do come back to the apartment, I expect you to be packed up and gone.”
The second she disconnected, her phone rang. It was Brad. She didn’t answer. She was pretty sure he would figure out that the jig was up. But she hoped he did as she asked. Because tomorrow morning she was going to head to town, find a lawyer and file for divorce. It was something that probably would have happened, anyway, even without Darby’s news. Neither one of them seemed happy with where they were anymore.
Her friend glanced at the phone she’d placed on the polished bar after silencing it. “Do you think he’ll leave without a fight?”
Evie took another drink. “I don’t know. I’m pretty sure he has someplace to go, unless she’s married, too.”
“She’s not.”
Another laugh came out. “You are nothing if not thorough, Darbs.”
Her friend gave her a searching look. “I hope you know this is not how I wanted this to play out.”
Now, that was the first thing her friend had said that she took issue with. “You and Max always had issues with Brad.”
Ugh. Why had she even said Max’s name in the same sentence as Brad’s? She and Darby and Max had always been close friends. But something had changed between her and Max when she started dating Brad and they got married. He hadn’t even come to her wedding, saying that he had a medical conference to go to. His absence had cut deep. And he’d made it pretty clear, even before the wedding, that he was no fan of her fiancé.
“We both cared enough about you to tell you there were some areas of concern.”
Except Max really hadn’t spelled out anything specific. He’d just seemed peeved whenever Brad was around. Soon, he’d practically dropped out of her life.
“And yet you never investigated him before now.”
“I was a cop when you got married, remember? Running an illicit investigation is frowned on in those circles.”
Why was Evie blaming her friend for something she’d gotten herself into? “I’m sorry, Darbs. I had no right to say that.”
Her friend’s transition from being a police detective to a private investigator had been heartbreaking. A bullet to her leg would have left her friend chained to a desk, so she’d decided to resign and open up her own PI office, where literally chasing down suspects was no longer required. Instead, she chased them via a keyboard or, in Brad’s case, through the lens of a camera.
“It’s okay.” Darby shifted in her seat, barely catching her cane before it fell from its perch. Her limp wasn’t as noticeable as it had been years ago, but Evie knew it still hurt when she’d been on her feet too long. “I can investigate now, though. And so don’t expect me not to run your next beau through the wringer.”
“Next beau? Nope. I think it’s one and done as far as that goes.”
“Famous last words, Evie.”
“Famous or not, they’re true.” And she meant it. She didn’t see herself going down her current path with anyone else. How could she ever trust a man again? First Max backed out of her life, and now her husband. That didn’t mean she’d be entering the nearest convent and taking a vow of chastity. It just meant she was no longer going to equate sleeping with someone with being in love with that someone. No matter whom it might be.
