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from?”
    “Anybody could have dropped this off, right at my door. Does this mean that one of your—”
    “I asked, who is it from , BreeAnna?”
    “There’s no name, it just says it’s private. Personal for you only. They obviously aren’t aware you don’t live here anymore. The only reason I haven’t turned it over to Jim is because you’ve been pretty fair. But if it’s something from a woman…or a-a man…and it proves you fooled around on me, I wanted to give you a chance to come clean.”
    More like you want another shot at controlling me . “Go ahead and open it.”
    “What?”
    “Open it. Or throw it out. Whatever it is, it probably doesn’t matter. I couldn’t care less. You won’t find anything sensational enough in some hand-delivered letter to break our prenuptial agreement, and I think you know that.”
    I almost hung up, but I heard paper rustling. At last she said, “It’s from your father.”

Chapter Five
     
    “Wait. What?” I asked. “My father?”
    “It’s a letter from your father. And there’s a postscript from someone named Joyce.”
    Shit . “That’s my father’s daughter’s name,” I replied slowly. “She’s about…nineteen?”
    “How should I know? I only corresponded with him. It seems he’s still living in the Long Beach area, and he’d like you to contact him. It says he’s sick, or he’d come to you. Oh. Apparently Joyce is the one who left it in my mailbox.”
    I can’t think about this now . I rubbed my eye with the heel of my hand. “Can you overnight that to me?”
    “Is it urgent?” Bree asked.
    For a moment I forgot we were supposed to be at daggers drawn and I confided in her. “It might be. Jake’s getting married, and I don’t want him to be blindsided by this. He doesn’t really know—”
    “Jacob is getting married? I thought he was gay?”
    “He is. He wants to commit to his lover, JT.”
    “That is the most repulsive—”
    “We don’t need your opinion, Bree.”
    “Fine,” Bree said, shrilly. “Then how about I just throw this letter into the backyard barbecue while I’m cooking Jim some steaks?”
    “You won’t do that.”
    “Oh, won’t I?”
    “No.” I sighed. Damn . Was this the woman I’d considered my partner for twelve long years? “You won’t do that, because it’s in your best interest to play ball at this point. Things can get uglier.”
    “Oh, all right.” BreeAnna’s voice was tiny. Fragile. “I’ll overnight it.”
    “Thank you very much, BreeAnna.”
    She hung up before I could wish her a pleasant evening. I was so absorbed in my thoughts I didn’t hear Jake jog over.
    “Something wrong?” He peered at my face. “You don’t look so good.”
    “I’m fine. Bree called.” I put my phone back into my pocket. “Something stupid.”
    “When will that woman let go?” Jake frowned. “Isn’t she supposed to do everything through your lawyers?”
    “Yes. It’s fine. It was just a quick question, but anger can boil up over nothing. I honestly don’t know how it gets this way. We used to be friends, if nothing else.”
    “Did you like the food?” Jake’s expression was closed, and I realized—too late—that he might be sensitive to hearing about other people’s shipwrecks as he prepared to embark on his own voyage.
    “It was great, thanks.” I shot him a sincere smile. “You made all my favorites. I guess you weren’t so mad at me after all, huh, Yash?”
    “Maybe not, Danilo . The game’s about to start, so I’ve got to go. You going to be okay here?”
    “I’m good. I like soccer.” I wouldn’t have minded refereeing a game myself sometime, but the mere thought of jogging and jarring my arm with each step caused me to break into a cold sweat. “Who’s playing?”
    “Orange jerseys are the Crush, and in the black we have the Bandits.”
    “Should I have a preference?”
    “Ken Ashton’s kid brother is playing for the Bandits.”
    “Go Bandits.” My PT was Ken’s