Chapter Sixteen
Cole
Reese and I sit in the bar, and I happily down my second whiskey when I would normally stop at one, but it’s been a hell of a month, really six months, considering my move and my father’s death. “We look good on paper,” Reese says. “And with the high-profile cases we’ve both won the past year, we have offers coming in left and right.”
“Meanwhile the Houston location is still a problem,” I say. “We need to bring in another me over there to oversee the operation, someone we trust. Someone we make a partner. I know that’s not ideal, but there’s a lot of money to be made there.”
“Agreed. You couldn’t stay there and have us rule the world with the same vision and momentum, but with your father gone, and you shortly after, it’s a ship with holes. Anyone in Texas in mind?”
“Not on staff,” I say. “But I know someone. Alexander Montgomery. He’s on his own and kicking ass, but I think we can convince him to join forces. But he’s going to want more than we want to give.”
Reese tips back his glass. “Sounds like our man.” He sets down his glass. “Let’s talk to him.”
“I’ll make the call.”
“In the meantime, does one of us need to go to Houston?”
“Now that I’m back to work, the storm seems to have calmed,” I say. “If I have to go, I’ll go. I’d rather wrap up the details on this case I’ve been dealing with, and weed through the new offers.”
He studies me a few beats. “How are things?”
“You mean did I lose my fucking mind over Lori’s attack? Yes. Am I dealing with it? Yes.”
“Are you really? Because if Cat got attacked, I’m not sure how I’d react. It wouldn’t be good. She’d most likely be tied to the bed where I’d keep her for the rest of her life, and happily, at that.”
“I’m dealing with it, but Lori doesn’t think I am.”
“Why?” he asks.
“I turned down a case that was worth a lot of money.”
“And she thought it was because you were afraid of putting her in danger.”
“Exactly,” I say.
“So is it her or you struggling with this?”
“She’s so busy worrying about me that she can’t face the part that involves her, which is why as much as I want to take her to Houston as I suggested and get out of here, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. At some point, she’s going to need to face this.”
“She hasn’t reacted to the attack at all?”
“She’s been worried about me worrying,” I say. “It’s the damnedest thing.”
“Marriage has a way of making you see the other person before you see yourself.”
“Yes,” I say. “It does.” I narrow my eyes at him. “I just told you I turned down a case worth a shit-ton of money. You aren’t going to ask why?”
“If I have to ask, you shouldn’t be my partner, but if it was Carlson Wright, he called me next, and I turned him down, too. He’s a low-life. Not our kind of client.”
I laugh. “And that, my friend, is why I’m now in New York with my name on a wall next to yours. I need to finish wrapping up loose ends, work with the associates, and wait for a case I really want to win. That’s when I win.”
“As do I,” he says. “Lori will learn that. She’s a young attorney, but as a friend, let me say this: Maybe you should take Lori to Houston. See our new partner candidate. Get her away from the heat of it all and give her the room to melt down. Then come back and start fresh.”
“Maybe,” I say. “But Lori needs to feel in control. I’m not sure pulling her from the familiar does that for her.”
“Right here, in this place, she has to have control,” he says. “And that woman has worn a suit of armor for years. Maybe that means she really didn’t let the attack get to her. Or maybe it means the effects are going to build and build under all that armor and explode without warning.”
He’s hit a nerve I didn’t know existed, something bothering me that I couldn’t identify. Under that armor, Lori was losing her mind when I met her, stressed and worried all the time. I’m supposed to be the person she can throw it away with. I’m supposed to be her safe place. My need to protect her has done just the opposite. I’ve forced her to put that armor back on.
Reese’s phone buzzes with a text and he glances at it. “One of my associates. Let me call him and then we should go upstairs where our women await.”
“Is Lori here?”
“For about ten minutes,” he says. “Cat sent me a text when Lori was on her way up to give them about twenty minutes of girl time.” He stands up and walks toward the bar.
Lori is here and didn’t stop by and tell me. That doesn’t feel right. I stand up, grab my briefcase and motion toward upstairs to Reese. I don’t wait for him to join me. I need to see my wife. And if I have to, I’ll take Reese’s advice. I’ll tie her to a bed and keep her there while I tear away that armor, inch by inch if that’s what it takes.
I’m still standing in the bathroom, staring at the box that reads “pregnancy test” when Cat knocks on the door. “Well?”
I open it and hold up the box. “I haven’t taken the test.”
“Why?!”
“I don’t know, Cat. I don’t know. I just can’t seem to make myself take it. Maybe that’s why I haven’t found a way to get the test. I’m afraid to find out.”
Her hands come down on my arms. “Honey, this is not you. You aren’t afraid of anything.”
“Apparently I am. I don’t know how I could worry over a baby when I just worried over my mother. And my father died and—”
“Deep breath. You are not pregnant, but if I’m wrong, and I’m not, you will be the best mother ever. Take the test.”
“Cole and Reese will be here any minute.”
“Reese is going to text me when they head up here. I’ll warn you. Take the test. Should I stand here and supervise?”
“No, you will not,” I say indignantly. “I’ll take it.”
“Hurry,” she says, waving me back inside and shutting the door behind me. “If you hear the door,” she calls out, “I’m expecting documents from the courthouse I ordered for my work-in-progress I want to show you. That means hurry, in case you didn’t hear my first hurry.”
“Right,” I call out. “Hurry.” I sit down on the toilet seat. What is wrong with me? I read the box. I’ve read it five times. It doesn’t seem to matter. I read it two more times and then tear open the box. The test is officially in my hand. I set it on the sink, and press my hand to my forehead.
There is a knock on the door. I stuff the test back in the box. I’m doing this in the morning. It says morning on the box. My phone rings and I snatch it from my purse to find my mother calling. “Hey, mom.”
“Why do you sound weird?”
“Because I was born that way?”
She laughs. “Ah, your father loved that joke. I miss him.” She sighs. “I miss you, too. We’re home. Can you and Cole come see us soon?”
“We’d like that. This weekend?”
“Perfect. And then I can thank Cole for that amazing trip to the Hamptons in person.”
“Great. Yes. I can’t wait to hear about it. I’ll call you later this week. Are you back at work?”
“Tonight. I’m headed there now. Talk soon, honey.”
We disconnect and there’s a knock on the door. I stand up, determined now to move past this test tonight. I open the door and suck in a breath. Cole is standing there, big and broad, and perfectly male while holding a pregnancy test in his hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“There’s nothing to tell. I didn’t start my period, but the doctor said it’s probably stress but I—I just—”
He drags me to him, his eyes dark, turbulent. Worried? I don’t know. Maybe. “Are you pregnant?”
“I don’t know. I can’t seem to make myself take the test.”
He kisses me. “Take the test.”
“If I am—”
“Then you are. Then we are.”
I nod, my heart squeezing with all kinds of unnamed emotions. “Okay. I need to do this alone.”
“No.”
“You aren’t watching me pee on that strip, husband or not. You can help me watch after.”
He nods. “Okay.” He offers me the test.
I take it. “I have another one. This is a back-up.”
He kisses me again. “Hurry.”
“That’s the word of the night,” I say, my voice making this weird crackling sound. Like someone just pinched me or something. “I will.” He shuts the door.
I grab the box and this time I just do it. I pee on the stupid stick. I cover it with a tissue because I can’t look without Cole. I then wash my hands for a ridiculous amount of time and open the door. Cole’s eyes meet mine, and I feel that familiar punch of awareness between us, but it’s more now. It’s this new level of intimacy and shared nervous energy. “How long?” he asks, shutting the door.
“It should be ready now,” I say pointing at it.
“Why is it covered?”
“I didn’t want to look without you.”
“But you were going to take it without me?”
“No,” I say. “I didn’t. I was going to wait. And it says morning. It might not be accurate so even if it’s negative, we have to do this all over in the morning.”
“Take the tissue off of it,” he orders softly.
“You do it.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “Holy hell. Why are we hesitating?” He pulls me to him. “Whatever the result, I love you.”
“I love you, too. Oh God. Just look.”
He nods and we both turn and he pulls the tissue. We both stare down at it. “What am I looking at?” he asks.
I swallow hard. “Negative. No baby for us.” My eyes burn and I cover my face.
He turns me to him, dragging my hands from my face. “What are you feeling?”
“I don’t know. I think—I didn’t want to be pregnant, but now that I’m not, I feel—let down. I don’t know what I’m feeling.”
“Me too,” he says softly. “I feel the same. Like, it wouldn’t have been a bad thing.”
“It’s the wrong time,” I say, “and we never talked about this. We never—”
“I do. I do want us to have kids, Lori.”
“You do?”
“Yes,” he says brushing the hair from my eyes. “I do, but do you?”
“Apparently, I do. I hadn’t thought of it and I feel afraid of what I could lose right now. You have to feel the same.”
“Oddly, the moment I thought you were pregnant, that feeling faded. Like new life, somehow, heals the past, but like you said, this isn’t our time.”
“When is the right time?”
“We’ll know. You’ll know. When you’re ready.”
“When I’m ready?”
“You are still establishing your career. We’re chasing your dream and we’re going to enjoy every step of the way.”
“And you’re still establishing the firm.”
“So, we wait. We enjoy each other, but if it happens by accident, let’s not panic. Besides, we’ll make beautiful babies together.”
I smile. “We will, won’t we?”
“Yes,” he says, cupping my face. “And this is you and me. Together. Whatever happens.”
“Together. Whatever happens.”
“No one gets to take that from us. I promise.”