The Villa

inside her gut.
    Instinctively she reached down to toy with her wedding ring and felt the quick jolt when it wasn't there. She'd have to get used to that naked finger. No, damned if she would. She was going to go out today, this afternoon, and buy some ridiculously expensive, knock-your-eyes-out bauble to go on the third finger of her left hand.
    A symbol, she told herself. Of freedom and new beginnings.
    Of failure.
    On a sigh of defeat, she dropped into a chair just as Helen rushed in.
    "Sorry, we ran a little over."
    "It's all right. You always look so distinguished and terrifying in your robes."
    "If I ever lose this extra fifteen pounds, I'm going to start wearing a bikini under them." She stripped the robe off, hung it up. Rather than a bikini, she wore a quiet brown suit.
    Too matronly, Pilar thought. Too boxy. And very Helen.
    "I really appreciate your making time for me today. I know how busy you are."
    "We've got two hours." Helen flopped into the chair behind her desk, pulled off her shoes and curled her toes. "Want to go out for lunch?"
    "Not really. Helen… I know you're not a divorce lawyer, but—Tony's moving to finalize things quickly. I don't know what to do."
    "I can handle it for you, Pilar. Or I can recommend someone. I know several sleek sharks who'd do the job."
    "I'd feel a lot more comfortable if you handled it, and if it was kept as simple as possible. And as clean."
    "Well, that's disappointing." With a frown, Helen pushed up her glasses. "I'd love to leave Tony bleeding from the ears. I'll need your financial papers," she began, pulling over a yellow legal pad for notes. "Fortunately, I browbeat you into separating your finances from his years ago. But we're going to keep your ass covered. He may very well make demands, monetary ones, real estate and so on. You are not going to agree to anything."
    She tipped down her glasses to stare at Pilar over the rims with a look that terrified lawyers. "I mean that, Pilar. He gets nothing. You are the injured party. He's petitioning for the divorce. He wants to get remarried. He walks out with what he walked in with. I'm not going to allow you to let him profit from this. You got that?"
    "It's not a matter of money."
    "Not for you. But he lives high, and he's going to want to continue living high. How much have you funneled to him over the last decade or so?"
    Pilar shifted uncomfortably. "Helen…"
    "Exactly. Loans that are never repaid. The house in San Francisco, the house in Italy. The furnishings in both."
    "We sold—"
    "He sold," Helen corrected. "You wouldn't listen to me then, but you will now or you find another lawyer. You never recouped your fair share of the real estate, which your money paid for in the first place. And I know damn well he slid plenty of your jewelry and personal property into his pocket, too. That stops cold."
    She pushed up her glasses, sat back. The gesture, the body language changed her from judge to friend. "Pilar, I love you, and that's why I'm going to say this to you. You've let him treat you like a doormat. Hell, you all but stitched 'Welcome' on your tits and invited him to step all over you. And I, and others who love you, hated watching it."
    "Maybe I did." She wasn't going to cry now; just absorb the fresh hurt. "I loved him, and part of me thought that if he needed me enough, he'd love me back. Something happened last night, and it's changed things. Changed me, I suppose."
    "Tell me."
    Rising, Pilar wandered the office and told Helen of the phone call. "When I listened to him making those careless apologies, cutting me off to placate Rene after she'd attacked me, I was disgusted with all of us. And later, after I'd calmed down again, I realized something. I don't love him anymore, Helen. Maybe I haven't for years. That makes me pitiful."
    "Not anymore, it doesn't." Helen picked up the phone. "Let's order in. I'll explain what needs to be done. Then, sweetie, we're going to do it. Please." She held out a hand. "Let me help you. Really help."
    "Okay." Pilar sighed. "Okay. Will it take more than an hour?"
    "Doesn't have to. Carl? Order me two chicken clubs, with side salads, two cappuccinos and a big bottle of fizzy water. Thanks." She hung up the phone.
    "Perfect." Pilar sat again. "Is there a good, overpriced jeweler near here?"
    "As a matter of fact there is. Why?"
    "If you've got time before you have to don your robes again, you could help me buy something symbolic and gaudy." She held up her left hand.