Chapter Twelve Breakfast & Crossword Puzzles
Bastain woke up a few hours later, lying on his back with Mirabelle’s head on his chest, her arm around his waist and his around her shoulders. He lay there for a long moment, just enjoying the feeling of holding her again. He grinned as he watched her eyes move behind her eyelids, wondering what she was dreaming about, then picked up his phone from the bedside table, ordered breakfast from their favourite breakfast spot, Griddle, and arranged to have it delivered to her condo.
He slipped quietly from her bed, being careful not to wake her, went to the bathroom, then went down and got his laptop from his car. He usually would go workout in the morning, but Mirabelle’s condo didn’t have a gym, and he didn’t want to leave with breakfast on the way. Back in her condo, Bastian sat at her kitchen table, checking the email he set up for their new law firm. After he passed in his resignation at Henderson on Thursday, he spent a couple of hours drafting an email that informed his former and current clients that he and Mirabelle had left Henderson and started their law firm. For his former clients, he just included the new contact information and address for the new office and that he was available should they need him.
For his eight current clients, he explained he left Henderson, and they could choose to stay with him; he wouldn’t charge them their deposits again; they just had to sign some paperwork stating they wanted to continue with Bastian, which he included as an attachment. He was pleased to see roughly ninety percent of their former clients had responded positively, assuring him they would be in touch if they needed his services and that all eight current clients would be following them to their new office. He answered a few questions and then got a text from the delivery guy that the food was in the lobby.
He let himself back into the apartment just as Mirabelle was coming out of the bathroom. “Morning, Bast,” she said sleepily as she stretched. “Is that Griddle?” She grinned. “Did you get my French toast?”
“Of course, I got your French toast.” He moved the laptop to a chair, pulled everything out of the bags, and set up the table for breakfast. “I also got your favourite citrus juice thing.”
“The orange pineapple cocktail?” She chuckled as she went to the kitchen, pulled open a drawer and brought over some cutlery. Laying his fork and knife next to him, she kissed his cheek as she sat down to his left.
“Yeah, that.” He grinned and nodded as he took a sip of his tall americano. “How are you feeling?”
“Great, considering,” she said. She pulled her tablet over, opened the New York Times app, and brought up the crossword. “Thank you for everything, Bastian.”
“You're welcome, Bunny.” They sat and were quiet as they ate, the tablet between them as they worked the crossword together, something they had done since they moved in together when they first came to New York City, with the end goal of having it finished by the time they were done their meal. When he was done. Bastian sat back and studied Mirabelle quietly, curious as to why Eddie and Casey announcing their wedding caused her to go on her bender. “Do you want to talk about Eddie and Casey?” Mirabelle shrugged and sat back in her chair as she played with her fork, pushing the last couple of bites of French toast around on her plate. Bastian knew by the way she was avoiding his eyes that she was a little embarrassed by her reaction. “How are you feeling about it?
“I don't know.” She sighed and ran her hands through her hair, pulling it back into a ponytail and holding it with one hand as she looked up at the ceiling. “I got the invite in the mail yesterday when I got home; it had a return address I didn’t recognize but no names. If I had known it was from Eddie and Casey, I would have just thrown it out. I opened it, and the letter was folded around the invitation, so I ended up reading that first, and I was… I don’t know.” Maribelle shook her head and finally dropped her gaze to him.
“I was sad, I was hurt, and I was pissed... Our divorce was finalized three months ago, and now they're getting married. I know they were fucking for a year, and the actual divorce process took seven months, but it just struck me as a huge “fuck you, our marriage meant nothing to me” thing, you know? And that fucking letter!” Mirabelle sat up straight as outrage crossed her features. “Would go a long way towards mending things.” What things? Who am I showing I've moved past everything?”
Bastian reached out and rubbed her shoulder soothingly. “If I were a betting man, I’d put my money on Eddie’s family. They were pretty upset that he cheated and you divorced him. Now he’s marrying the affair partner, and if you go, it seems like all is forgiven, and what he did isn’t really as bad as everyone thinks.”
“Ugh, you’re right.” Mirabelle groaned, and he knew she was bothered by the fact that Eddie was using her to get back in his family’s good graces. An idea hit him, and he nudged her with his elbow.
“They did give you a plus one, Mira, and it's black tie.” He grinned at her mischievously. “We could have a lot of fun with this; I look great in a tux.”
“What do you mean?” She looked at him, confusion making her furrow her brow as she tried to figure out what he was trying to say. Bastian’s grin grew wider as his idea grew. He really hoped she would go along with him; he would love to mess with Eddie some more.
“We go as a couple,” Bastian said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You RSVP for you and your plus one, and I go with you as your date.” He watched as she blinked and looked him over. Bastian knew he was good-looking, he wasn’t egotistical about it, it was just a fact. He firmly believed that part of his success as a lawyer was in how he presented himself, so he had a rigorous personal care routine that included going to the gym five times a week, getting skincare, manicures, pedicures, and even waxing. He kept his dark brown hair shorter on the sides and slightly longer on the top in a style that suited his face shape and carefully maintained, not quite a full beard, but somewhat more than five o’clock shadow on his jaw, and his brown eyes were soft and warm unless he was pissed off. Eddie had always been incredibly jealous of his relationship and history with Mirabelle. He frequently made snide comments about her not falling for pretty boys and looking for men with substance while they were married.
“So, what? We pretend we're together throughout the weekend of their wedding?” She didn’t look entirely convinced, and Bastian was a little hurt that she wasn’t eager to pretend to be his girlfriend, but he shoved that down. It wasn’t fair for him to expect anything when he couldn’t make himself come right out and tell her how he felt.
“Yeah, why not?” Bastian leaned toward her, giving her his best, most charming and convincing smile. “Give him what he wants; we fucking destroyed him, so we go and wish them well and show that you've completely, one hundred percent moved on. We keep all our focus on us and show them how in love with one another we are.”
“What about starting up the law firm?” She chewed her lower lip, and Bastian reached up and gently pulled it free of her teeth, understanding her concern and wanting to reassure her.
“We can take a week off, Bunny. All my current clients are coming with us, and Marie has hired me as her divorce lawyer. We’ll be fine, I promise.” He watched her carefully as her emotions and thoughts played out on her face quickly, smiling when he saw she was going to agree.
“Okay.” Mirabelle nodded firmly as she took a deep breath. “I'll RSVP yes for me and my plus one.”
“Excellent.” Bastian was delighted and started clearing his place so he could use his laptop again; opening the lid, he pulled up his calendar. “When and where is the wedding?”
Mirabelle stood up and walked over to the coffee table where they had thrown the letter and invitation the night before. Opening the invitation, she read it out to him. “September 16, at the Stone Chalet Bed and Breakfast Inn and Event Center in Ann Arbor, Michigan,” Bastian added the date to the calendar, blocking out the week before as well, then looked up the Stone Chalet Bed and Breakfast to book a room for the night of the wedding.
“Seems nice. Why Michigan?” He asked as he went through the reservation steps.
“That's where Casey is from,” Mirabelle explained, leaning over his shoulder to check it out with him. “You know, if we go, they're gonna try to make us out to be the bad guys or do something that will be rude or mean.”
“That's fine. We'll handle it gracefully and make them come across as rude and mean.” Bastian turned his head and smiled at her reassuringly. “It'll be fine.” He promised again as he finished the reservation for the chalet’s Garden Room and then booked the week before the wedding at the Weber's Boutique Hotel in a Poolside Spa Suite. “We'll go up for the week and spend it wandering around doing touristy stuff and looking like a cute couple to practice.” Bastian was already making plans; he had been hoping his and Mirabelle’s relationship would organically move toward them being together, but the whole thing with Kelly had definitely set him back, but he’d never been one to shy away from working toward what he wanted.