And, as often happened with spur-of-the-moment libido-driven decisions, by Monday night, Mackenzie was marinating in full-blown regret. It had been a terrible idea to sleep with Dylan. Their focus, their only focus, should have been on Hope—not on each other. She needed to tell Dylan how she felt when they were face-to-face and, hopefully, the two of them could agree to refocus their attention on Hope. If the right moment materialized today, she knew that she needed to have a talk with Dylan.
* * *
Dylan arrived at the parking lot behind the bakery ahead of schedule. He was usually early. While he was waiting for Mackenzie and Hope, he decided to try his attorney’s private number. He was surprised when Ben actually answered.
“Hey, Ben! I was planning on leaving you a message.”
“Do you want me to hang up?” Ben asked.
“No.” Dylan laughed. “This is better.”
“What can I do for you, Dylan?”
“I had a chance to look over the papers you emailed. Everything looks good, exactly as we discussed.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Just send a signed copy to the office and we’ll have them in the mail to the mother this week.”
“Actually...that’s what I was calling you about. I’d like to hold off on sending the papers. Just for a little bit.”
“May I ask why?”
“I’m hoping that we can work some of this stuff out on our own. So far, things have been pretty cordial between us. But if Mackenzie gets these papers now, I think she’ll go ballistic and turn this into World War Three.”
“I see. Well, ultimately, it’s your decision.” Ben paused for a moment of thought. “Why don’t we do this...send over a signed copy and we’ll hang on to the papers until you’re ready to pull the trigger. How does that sound?”
Dylan saw Mackenzie’s Chevy pulling into the parking lot and wanted to get off the phone quickly. “That sounds like a plan, Ben. Thanks for picking up on a weekend.”
“Billable hours, my friend,” Ben said jokingly. “Billable hours.”
* * *
Hope hugged him hello and Mackenzie greeted him by handing him the keys to her Chevy. He didn’t have a car with a backseat, so Mackenzie volunteered her car. And since he had let her drive his Corvette, it was his turn to drive her Chevy. The vintage Chevy had a bench seat in front big enough to fit all three of them. He was behind the wheel, Mackenzie was in the seat by the passenger door and Hope was seated between them. Dylan had the distinct feeling that Mackenzie was glad to put some distance between them in the car, especially since she had been giving him the cold shoulder all week. He’d thought they’d had a great weekend together. She
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