Divorce Me? Pay the $830K First

Cordelia's POV

For a whole year, my husband's childhood friend treated my high-end boutique like her personal closet.

Bags that ran a few thousand dollars, couture gowns worth tens of thousands. She took whatever she wanted and walked out, never once saying the word "money."

The store bled cash month after month. When I finally hit my limit and told her to pay up, she slapped me across the face in front of a room full of customers.

"You should be flattered I even shop here. And you've got the nerve to ask me for money?"

Garrett came rushing in with his coffee, and the first thing out of his mouth wasn't whether I was okay. He pulled her behind him and told me to apologize, then said if I didn't, he'd divorce me.

I didn't cry, didn't make a scene. I picked the bill up off the floor, turned around, walked out, and made one phone call.

Three days later, Bianca comes back with five of her socialite friends, bragging that they're going to clean out every expensive piece in the place.

I hold my coffee and smile, tell them to take their time.

What she doesn't know is that three days ago, this store already changed hands.

"I want this gown. Wrap it up. And that rack of new coats, one in every color."

Bianca stands in front of the mirror, fussing with her fresh manicure, and jerks her chin at the rack.

The embroidered silk gown she has on runs sixty grand a piece. Just came in, top of the line.

I stand behind the register, watching her act like all of it's owed to her, and take a deep breath before printing the bill.

This is nowhere near Bianca's first raid on my store.

Ever since Garrett and I got married, she's swept through here about once a month, seeing as she's his childhood sweetheart. Bags for a few thousand, dresses for tens of thousands. She never brings up paying. She grabs what she likes and leaves.

The last few months, her freeloading has put the store deep in the red.

I've brought it up with Garrett more times than I can count. He always tells me I'm being petty. "Bianca's like a little sister to me. I grew up with her. So she takes a few things, what's the big deal? You run a whole store and you're sweating a couple of dresses? We're family. Can you quit nickel-and-diming everything?"

Family?

I'm up before dawn and out late, flying to Europe to source pieces and lock down distributors. I gave myself a bleeding ulcer getting this place off the ground. Why should it bankroll a leech?

I take the long bill over to Bianca, keeping my voice steady. "Bianca, the gown's sixty. Add the new pieces you just pulled and it comes to a hundred fifty-two grand. For Garrett's sake, I'll drop the change. Call it a hundred fifty. Card or transfer?"

Bianca is checking out her figure in the mirror, and she laughs when she hears me. "Cordelia, are you out of your mind? You're charging me? You should be thanking me for wearing your stuff, and instead you've got the nerve to bill me?"

"The store's mine. I paid real money for every piece in here. You take something, you pay for it. That's how it works." I push the bill a little closer. "No payment, and you're not walking out with a single thing."

"Who do you think you are?" Bianca snaps and knocks the bill out of my hand. "Don't push your luck, Cordelia. If Garrett hadn't married you, you think you'd have any of this? One call from me and he divorces you. Try me."

"Then go ahead and call him." I look at her, cold. "But before you dial, settle the hundred fifty."

"Like hell I will."

Bianca swings and slaps me across the face.

My ears ring. I catch the faint taste of blood.

A couple of the staff flinch and step back. Nobody comes near.

Right then the door opens and Garrett walks in holding two coffees. He stops short at the sight, then hurries over.

I figure he'll at least ask what happened. Instead he takes one look at the red mark on my face, frowns, pulls Bianca behind him, and turns on me. "Cordelia, what are you starting now? I told you Bianca's been going through a rough patch. I asked you to go easy on her. Why do you keep setting her off?"

I hold my cheek and look at the man I've loved for three years.

He doesn't ask if it hurts. He doesn't ask why she hit me. In his head he's already decided I'm the one who's wrong.

Behind him, Bianca switches to her wounded face. "Garrett, all I wanted was a couple of things for tomorrow's dinner party. She shoves a bill at me and demands money, calls me a thief for not paying. I got upset and gave her a little shove. I didn't mean anything by it."

"Okay, stop crying. I know she gave you a hard time." Garrett pats her shoulder and glares at me. "Cordelia, are you that hung up on money? It's a hundred fifty grand. Is that worth humiliating her over? Apologize to her. Right now."

A hundred fifty grand, like it's pocket change. He has no clue how many pieces I'd have to move to clear that in profit.

I look at Garrett's furious face, and all at once he's a stranger.

Every bit of resentment I've swallowed over the years just drains out of me. What's left is a calm I've never felt before.

I bend down, pick the bill up off the floor, fold it, and slip it into my pocket.

"Cordelia, you hear me? I said apologize!" When I ignore him, Garrett's voice gets louder.