narrowed and he crossed his arms. “You’re still interested, right? I mean, I understand—” he flicked a glance Laura’s way “—you’re busy. But Laura? I thought you were seeing an Annabelle.”
“Laura’s my wife. Ex-wife to be precise.”
Willis’s jaw hit the ground. “Your what? From what you’d told me, I got the impression there was more chance of a blizzard descending on the Simpson than you two getting back together.”
Bishop rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, it’s complicated.”
“If you don’t mind me saying, the vibes I get are more of the plain and simple variety.”
“Laura had an accident Friday,” he explained. “That’s why I left early.”
Willis took another longer look. “She seems fine now.”
“She’s great … except for the fact that two years of her life have been erased.”
Willis took a moment. “You mean amnesia? And she thinks you and she …” Groaning, Willis held his brow. “Oh, man.”
Bishop nodded. “Complicated.”
“What’re you going to do?”
“I went along at first because I didn’t have much choice. Laura thought we were still married. The doctor said if I kept a close eye on her, she could go home. So we spent some time together, and as the hours and days went on …” He rolled back his shoulders, forming the words carefully in his mind before uttering a one. “I’m wondering whether we might not be able to save what we had.”
Bishop respected this man; they were friends, but this was extremely private. Should he have been this open? It wasn’t usually his style. Still, now the words were out, he knew he’d needed to say them out loud. Maybe then he’d be able to see how ridiculous this all was.
“Save your marriage?” Willis’s hands dug into his pockets. “That would be if she remembers, or if she doesn’t?”
“That part’s a little up in the air.”
“It’s none of my business, and you probably don’t need me to tell you, but you should tread carefully. If you decide to go that way, the road will be full of potholes, deep and wide.”
Bishop grunted. No kidding.
“I’m going to book her in to see a neurologist midweek. See what can be done. In the meantime—”
“You have a beautiful bride who’s all doe-eyed for you, but deep down hates your guts. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place. What a temptation.”
Feeling his gills heat up, Bishop lowered his gaze and shuffled his feet.
Willis did a double take, then swore. “Oh, no … Sam, you haven’t. She locked you out a year ago and now that she can’t remember the bad times, you’ve slept with her?”
Bishop growled, “I don’t need anyone beating on my conscience about it.” His tone dropped. “I’ve been doing enough of that myself.”
“Look on the bright side. Things couldn’t get any worse the second time around.”
“At least I know what to expect.”
“With a woman?” Willis coughed out a laugh. “You’re fooling yourself.” He drew up to his full height and got back on track. “What do you want me to do about those buyers?”
“Tell them I’m unavailable. We’ll get back to them later in the week.” He’d thought he was ready to sell. Move on. Now he wasn’t so sure. He did know that he didn’t want any reminders of his failed marriage, and every time he walked into that office, talked to his team or went on location, he remembered how he’d buried himself in his work during those hard times. In truth, perhaps those memories had more to do with his desire to sell than feeling stale at work.
Either way, he didn’t need to make a snap decision. He’d see how he felt in a day or two—in a week—about everything and decide then.
They returned to Laura, and Willis nodded his farewell. “Good meeting you, Mrs. Bishop.”
“You’ll have to come up to our place in the mountains for dinner one evening,” she said. “Bring your wife, of course.”
“I’m sure she’d like that. She loves the mountains.”
Laura beamed. “Me, too.” She looked to Bishop then back at Willis. “Why don’t we make it this weekend?”
“This weekend we’re having that get-together for my birthday, remember—” Willis stopped.
Bishop was glaring at him.
She’s not ready for big groups yet.
The consummate hostess, Laura patched up the awkward moment. “Oh, well, if you have a party on, we’ll make it another time.”
Bishop quietly exhaled. Ah, what the hell. It would either be a disaster with everyone asking the wrong questions, or they’d have a great time. If her memory returned before then, it’d be a moot point.
“We’re invited, Laura.” He shrugged, offered a smile. “It slipped my mind.”
Laura’s eyes lit up. “That’s wonderful.” She spoke to Willis. “I suppose I’ll see you next week then.”
“I know my wife will enjoy meeting you.” Turning to the doors, Willis sent Bishop a wink. “We’ll talk.”
He and Laura headed for the concierge’s desk. The fellow from last night, Herb, was still on. After the ticket was handed over and pleasantries exchanged, he asked, “Did you receive the champagne?”
Laura spoke for them both. “That was so thoughtful. And unnecessary. But thank you so much.”
“You were always so kind, Mrs. Bishop,” the older man said. “It’s good to have you back.”
Looking touched as well as bemused, Laura patted her hair uncertainly then tacked up her smile. “It’s good to be back.”
They headed out through the doors and, between two soaring forecourt columns, waited for his car to arrive. Hanging on tenterhooks, Bishop knew Laura would mention Herb’s comment. Good to have you back. She might think it was weird, but Herb hadn’t seen Laura in eighteen months, and yes, she had always been kind. She was kind to everyone. The last months of their marriage, with regard to him, didn’t count.
But rather than Herb, Laura brought up that other subject.
“Was Willis here about the sale of the company?”
“Yes, he was.”
“So you’re going in to the office later today?”
“No.”
Her eyes rounded as she turned to
