Patrick Jordan sank into his thoughts. When was the last time he'd seen Noelle Kelley smile? He'd almost forgotten—that shy girl who used to bend over backward to please him was once the one laughing loudest in any crowd. Now, watching her light up around another guy her age? That got under his skin like a splinter that just wouldn't budge.
Up front, Elina Taylor, his assistant, twisted around in her seat. "Mr. Jordan, should we head in?"
"Not yet," he muttered. He wanted to see just how far Noelle—the girl who always seemed to trip through life—would go for this guy.
Fall was in full swing, and dusk was fast becoming night.
Noelle stepped out of the coffee shop. The sudden shift from the bright interior to the dusk outside made her vision blur, and she staggered backward into Jamie Johnston.
Jamie caught her shoulders, steadying her. "You good?" he asked, all casual.
"Oh, I'm fine. Just got up too fast," Noelle said.
Then, out of nowhere, Patrick came charging across the street, fury written all over his face.
"Noelle!"
Noelle went still. That tone—she knew it inside out. Every time she called out Charley Jenkins, and Charley ran crying to Patrick, that's exactly how he'd bark her name. But she'd been avoiding Charley for days. Even after Patrick left the bistro yesterday, Charley came slinking back, and Noelle gave her the cold shoulder. So what had she done to set him off now?
Maybe he regretted putting their divorce on hold and was suddenly in a rush to get it done? But it was dark out—no way they'd make it to a courthouse tonight.
Patrick closed the distance in a few strides, hand raised like he was about to slap her. Jamie was quicker—he yanked her back just in time, and the blow sliced through empty air.
The wind whistled past her ear. If that hit had connected... yeah, it would've been ugly.
In her last life, she'd refused to leave him, and he'd gotten violent. Now that she wanted out, he was still raising his hand at her?
"Patrick, have you completely lost your mind?" Noelle's eyes went icy, her voice just as cold. "You don't want the divorce anymore? And you dare try to hit me?"
Seeing Noelle—the girl who used to chatter endlessly around him—now sheltered behind another man only made Patrick's blood boil.
He sneered. "Noelle, you cheating little... so this is why you want a divorce? You've already found yourself a new boy toy!"
Noelle blinked. She'd been buried in work for days. What affair?
"Don't play dumb!" Patrick barked, jabbing a finger at the man behind her. "I saw you this afternoon—you couldn't take your eyes off him. And just now you deliberately fell into his arms. Don't think I didn't notice."
Loving stares, accidental bumps—those were the exact moves Noelle used to pull on Patrick to get his attention.
Noelle let out a weary sigh. "You're just as blind as I used to be."
Jamie, annoyed at being called a fling, shot back: "Watch your mouth. I've got nothing to do with her."
"Oh, really?" Patrick scoffed, raking his eyes over Noelle with pure contempt. "But isn't that your thing? Chasing guys who couldn't care less about you? What's next—throwing yourself at some homeless guy under a bridge just because he won't give you the time of day?"
"That's enough!" Noelle cut in.
Jamie wasn't some random guy—Vivian Carter had pulled strings to get him to consult for Noelle. After two days of free advice, he'd already taught her more than she could repay. She wasn't about to let Patrick drag his name through the mud.
Just then, Noelle spotted Elina hovering behind Patrick.
Ah. Now the picture was crystal clear.
"Of course," Noelle laughed, the sound cold. "Patrick, who told you I'd be here?"
Patrick didn't answer. Whoever tipped him off didn't matter—it had nothing to do with her supposed affair.
"It was Elina, wasn't it?" Noelle pressed.
Elina hadn't seen that coming. She flinched without thinking.
As I thought.
Noelle narrowed her eyes, letting the silence linger. Patrick muttered, "Whoever it was—it doesn't change what I saw at the coffee shop yesterday."
Jamie chimed in, his voice flat: "Careful. False accusations come with consequences."
Patrick looked to Elina for backup, but Noelle cut him off. "Elina only showed you a video of me asking questions. Nothing inappropriate in that."
Noelle sounded so sure, so unbothered, that Patrick glanced back at Elina for some kind of answer.
"Elina, why would I dig into your fake degree if I had something to hide?" Noelle's words landed like a bomb.
Elina tried to deny it, but the words died in her throat—her academic records were too easy to check.
Noelle wasn't about to waste another second on scum like this. "Mr. Jordan, I don't know why you always think the worst of me, but frankly, I don't care anymore. Next time you raise a hand to someone, think about who you are. Try it again, and I won't just dodge—I'll call the police and seek a protective order. I'll also ask the court for my share of the marital assets."
With that, she snatched her bag and slid into her car.
Jamie didn't miss a beat. With his checkered shirt, he looked like a clean-cut college kid—sharp features, steady eyes. "Mr. Jordan, if you want to frame your wife for cheating, find someone else. Stay away from me." Then, low enough for only Patrick to hear: "If he ever finds out I've been seen with Noelle, he'd snap my neck..."
