I turned my head and shot her the look my former students knew to fear. “Ella’s very sick. We’re worried about the baby—and El. The rest . . . Monique, the tour . . . I can’t focus on that now. We’ve tried for this child for years. I’ve gotta be here for Ella right now.”

Angelica wiggled in her chair. “Of course you do. Thank the music gods you’re a decent man because I’ve had to deal with one too many pieces of shit who only care about how much is in the bank and how many women they can dick over.”

“Well . . .” I cleared my throat. My heart thumped hard then skipped a beat. I glanced up at the sound of footfalls in time to see Marsha pause in the entrance to the room. I dropped my eyes back to my feet, unable to bear her shaming looks. “I did screw up. Bad. Gerard and Monique suggested I contact my lawyer about a divorce. I did that. I went so far as to lay out some terms. Preliminary terms. But I never followed up.”

“So, are you planning to leave Ella, Simon?” Marsha’s voice filled with disapproval. My shoulders bunched back into the thick knots of the past few days.

“I have to tell you, based on your music, this is not going to go over well with your fans,” Angelica said.

“I don’t care about the fans,” I snapped. “I mean, I do. Of course. But the people I’m most concerned about are my wife and children. Monique hurt them.” I sucked in a breath, released it on a heavy sigh. Angelica knew this but Marsha didn’t understand the whole story. “I contacted my lawyer as soon as Ella left Atlanta. He sent me an email from my account, signed by me stating that I wanted those papers delivered to Ella last week. Only problem is I don’t have that email in my files—anywhere—and I didn’t send it.”

“You’re sure?” Marsha asked.

“I’m positive.” I raised my gaze and met Marsha’s. “I never sent that message to my lawyer. I absolutely was the one to contact him initially, but I never planned to follow through. I told him that at the end of the meeting.”

Angelica’s soft huff blasted across my skin, and I jerked, shocked. I’d forgotten she was there, next to me, but the moment between Marsha and I also snapped without me getting a good read on her expression—and whether she believed me.

“Look,” Angelica nearly groaned the word. “Whatever you did with Monique is in the past. The label has severed our professional relationship with her. It’s not just you—we’ve had a few reports over the past few months. Just that you were her main client. Jon definitely sat up when Asher called, though.”

My brother-in-law came through. Big time. I owed him.