Dating A Saint by Donna McDonald Page A

know you dated her once.” Barrett watched Jim look away, but he continued, “Is the woman a nun coming out of a convent? Is she a stripper in a topless bar?”
    Barrett listened to Jim sigh. He couldn’t let himself feel sorry for him. If he wanted his help, Jim was going to have to tell him the truth.
    “Reputations are seen differently in court,” Barrett explained. “I’m sure I don’t have to explain that further to you.”
    Jim walked back to the table and sat again. He looked at Barrett, trying to be sure before he told.
    “Look, you can trust me to keep it a secret for as long as I can, but the court will eventually insist on talking to her—providing I find a judge even willing to listen to your case,” Barrett said.
    “Lauren McCarthy,” Jim said finally, her name hanging in the air between them.
    “Used to be Lauren McCarthy Smith, ex-wife of Jared Smith—Jared Smith the bastard who slept with my ex-wife,” Barrett exclaimed. “I’ll be damned.”
    Jim nodded. “I didn’t want to use the connection to influence your decision to help me. I also haven’t talked about marriage to Lauren yet.”
    “Lauren has a reputation of being a good woman. I know she doesn’t date much, doesn’t sleep around. She does a lot of charity work. My wife Jane helps her sometimes. I’m guessing most nights she’s home alone. I can see why you feel you need to marry her. Does she want to marry you?” Barrett asked, noting Jim’s unsure expression went from doubtful to determined in three seconds. Any man would understand what that meant.
    “I haven’t asked her to marry me, but Lauren is mine,” Jim said firmly, absolutely convinced of it after last night and this morning, regardless of how angry she got at him. “I know how ludicrous it sounds given my situation, but there’s no polite expression for what I feel about her. Lauren deserves to be in a relationship with a man who can be completely hers. I need to find a way to make that happen if I can.”
    “And what happens if I can’t get you legally divorced without you losing your rights as Cassandra’s primary caretaker?” Barrett asked.
    “I can’t go there yet,” Jim told him. “I have to believe you’re going to find a way.”
    Barrett stood and gathered up his things. “Jared Smith wasn’t the only man to grace my first wife’s bed in the three years I was legally bound to her but separated. Ellen and I stopped being really married long before the divorce paperwork was done. I started dating Jane as soon as I realized how I felt about her because my commitment to her was more important than the remaining legal one to Ellen. I have no guilt at all about what I did—or anything Jane and I did.”
    Barrett held up his left hand where his wedding band resided. “Do you see this? This is an important symbol, but it only works with a woman who has the same ideas about it as I do. Hear me on this, Jim. My marriage to Ellen ended when she told me about sleeping with Smith. Cassandra stopped being your wife in any sense of the word the day she decided to be your sister and to consider herself Samuel’s wife,” Barrett declared. “I admire you like hell for how you’ve handled the situation and the life you’ve given her. Now damn it, stop feeling guilty and let yourself be happy with Lauren.”
    Jim looked at his hands and not at Barrett.
    “Jim,” Barrett said softly, realizing what his secretive client had not yet done. “For pity’s sake, tell Lauren McCarthy about Cassandra. If you can’t trust a good woman like Lauren with the truth, then this world isn’t worth living in at all.”
    Jim nodded but didn’t answer. It was the same conclusion he had arrived at already himself.

Chapter 7
    The reserved table at Lucinda’s had to be expanded Thursday night to seat the two arguing couples who were drawing the attention of everyone around them.
    “The wedding is next weekend and Sydney is driving me crazy. I was looking forward to