Chapter Twenty-Two
Bailey
I’d always heard the phrase, “The tension in the room was so thick, you could cut it with a knife,” and now I watched it come to life before me. Keston locked gazes with Ambrose, even as he spoke directly to me.
“I’ll explain later, Bailey.”
Oh, that so was not going to fly with me. “Nah. I think you’ll explain it now. Because if you don’t, I’ll guarantee there won’t be a later.”
For the first time Keston looked disconcerted. “Excuse us a second,” he said to Ambrose and pulled me into a corner of the office. “Shit…look, I don’t talk about my personal life. That shouldn’t surprise you.”
It didn’t, but this went beyond being cagey about dating.
“No. But this isn’t a casual discussion with acquaintances.
This is your best friend. Why don’t you want him to know about me?
I thought we were trying to make this thing between us work.
” At the flicker of Keston’s eyes, I nodded.
“Oh, sure. I’m not your usual type, is that it?
” I laughed but not because it was funny.
Far from it. “But that’s only when it’s in the dark, huh?
You’re ashamed that you’re attracted to a guy like me.
I’m not part of your cool, hip vibe? I’m one of them—a lawyer.
” I laughed, but damn, it hurt. “I’m too straight, even for a gay man.
Well, fuck you. I thought we had something real.
Something special. Goddammit, I was falling in love with you. ”
Keston paled. “Bailey—”
I put up a hand and stepped away. “No. Don’t say anything.
I’m fine. I should’ve known. Wanna hear the funniest thing?
Here people were teasing me, joking that I was taking a walk on the wild side with you, when all along, it was you who was afraid to admit to being with me because I’m what?
A lawyer? You’re embarrassed you like screwing a guy in a suit who sits behind a desk for a living?
” I pushed past Keston and Ambrose, virtually running out of the shop.
I wasn’t sure if Ambrose heard me, and I didn’t care if he had.
What a god damned fool I was. I had to get out of there and go home to lick my wounds.
The night air hit my overheated face, and I walked down St. Mark’s toward Astor Place, blind to my surroundings. At the touch of a hand to my shoulder, I stopped and spun around to tell Keston to fuck off, but instead I met Ambrose’s chastened face.
“What do you want, Ambrose? Go back to your friend.”
“I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have acted like that to Keston.”
“It doesn’t matter to me.” I started walking again.
“Wait, Bailey.” He came after me.
“I don’t need your explanations for Keston’s behavior.
” Then I remembered about Ambrose’s brother and stopped.
The crowd passed by us, several people shooting us glares, as we were in the middle of the sidewalk, blocking traffic.
“I have to tell you something. Let’s move over so we can talk a minute.
” We found a spot by a lamppost, and Ambrose cocked his head.
“What is it?”
“I looked into your brother’s case. I think he might have a shot at an appeal.”
Ambrose’s eyes bugged out, and he grabbed my arm. “Are you shittin’ me? Really? I fuckin’ knew it. Awesome. When can he get out?”
“Whoa, whoa.” I put my hands up. “It’s not as simple as that. I’d need to meet with him to get some details straight, and talk to the DA. They’re not just gonna unlock the cell and let him stroll out. These things take time.”
Excitement drained from Ambrose, and his shoulders slumped. “And lots of money, I bet. Listen, I can pay you a little every week. I swear I’m good for it.”
Dammit. I hated the thought of Ambrose putting so much effort into getting his brother out, when the guy was a piece of crap who sold drugs.
I took on very few criminal cases because while I believed everyone deserved a fair trial and you were innocent until proven guilty, guys like Lucas turned my stomach, and they deserved a lawyer who would give it their all.
But I’d made a promise to Keston to look into it, and knowing Ambrose didn’t have much money, I’d suck it up.
I wouldn’t take my hurt feelings out on Ambrose, even though it was partly because of him that Keston lied about us.
Shit, my brain hurt from those mental gymnastics. How the fuck did I get myself into these things?
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’ll take his case pro bono, but you have to understand there is no guarantee.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course. But you’re the only one willing to do anything. Even Keston’s brother didn’t want to help.”
I wasn’t going to let anyone put Grady down. “This has nothing to do with wanting to help. Grady’s a great attorney, but criminal law isn’t his specialty, so I understand why he passed. If I’m gonna work with you, there’ll be no shitting on him. Got that?”
Ambrose nodded like a bobblehead. “Yeah, okay, sure. So what’s your next step?”
“I meet with your brother and see what he has to say. I gotta go to the DA. Give me your number, but like I said, these things don’t happen overnight, so don’t expect him to be sitting at your dinner table next week or even next month.
I’ll be in touch.” I entered Ambrose’s contact information into my phone.
Ambrose stepped in front of me. “Listen, about you and Keston—” he began, but I put a hand up.
“Don’t. I’m done talking about it. I’ll call you if I have any info.” And this time when I walked away, he let me.
I boarded the 6 train at Astor Place and spent the trip in my head, missing my stop to transfer for the West Side.
I got off at 68th Street, and cursing my stupidity, decided to cool my anger by walking home across town instead of calling a car.
Head bowed, I’d crossed Park Avenue. I heard my name and looked up to see Weston and Brenner waiting.
Just what I didn’t fucking need. Inwardly I groaned, while on the outside, I pasted a fake-ass smile.
“Hey, guys. What’s up?”
“Not much, just going home. What’re you doing on this side of town?” Brenner asked.
Not about to reveal my mistake, I shrugged. “Client meeting. I decided to walk home.”
Despite his playboy demeanor, West was sharp as hell in reading people. “Yeah? Must’ve been a hell of a meeting ’cause you look like shit. Why don’t you come to our place and have a drink?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Bailey. You’ve been with us two minutes and haven’t made a joke yet. Plus, you ran out of Grady and Lauren’s weekend like you had the devil chasing you, with no explanation. Bren and I called to check up on you several times, but you never answered.”
Crap. I’d ignored their calls, figuring they only wanted to tease me about Keston. Almost forty, and I still didn’t believe people cared about me or for me.
“We spoke, West. In the office.”
“That’s bullshit. It was about work. Not the important stuff, like what’s bothering you.”
I rubbed my face. “Sorry. It was a…false alarm. Everything’s fine. And I should get home…” Was that my voice sounding so weak and pathetic? Obviously so, as Brenner put an arm around me, and I found myself sandwiched between them, walking toward their apartment.
Weston squeezed my shoulder. “Bailey, come on, we’re your friends. What’s wrong?”
Damn Weston because when he was caring and nice, he became impossible to resist. I waited until we entered their apartment to answer.
“I doubt you have all night to listen to my tales of woe.”
Brenner and Weston exchanged a look. West walked to their bar, picked a bottle of vodka, and set it on the table between us. “We have all night.”
I shook my head. “Nothing for me.”
“Okay, now I know something’s wrong.” Brenner leaned forward, the penetrating gaze he was famous for piercing straight through me. “C’mon, Bailey. It’s us.”
I covered my eyes, and the words spilled out, revealing everything I’d spent the last twenty-odd years hiding.
I held nothing back—my mother’s abandonment and return, my father’s absence while I grew up and his subsequent illness, the guys I slept with in law school to keep the loneliness at bay, hoping someone would love me.
And finally, Belinda’s poor life choices and her new fiancé with anger issues.
“So that’s why I left on Saturday night. I thought she was in trouble, and instead she was celebrating.” I forced my shaky lips to smile. “Nothing that horrendous.”
“Aw, man, Bailey, I’m sorry. That must’ve been rough.” Weston’s green-gold eyes were thoughtful. “You never told us anything.”
I snorted. “When would that have happened? At a frat party while we were pounding down beers, or when you came in after a date? I don’t think so.”
“I understand.” Brenner steepled his fingers under his chin. “I’d see everyone laughing and enjoying themselves, but I couldn’t. I never belonged.”
How well I knew that feeling. I was the kid with his face pressed to the window, watching all his friends at a party he wasn’t invited to. I’d thought I’d beaten the inferiority complex, but like a scar, it remained a permanent mark, no matter how determined you were to get rid of it.
“But how does Keston fit into all this? And don’t say he doesn’t because that man couldn’t keep his eyes off you all weekend.” Brenner’s grin grew wolfish. “I wasn’t kidding about the sounds from your bedroom.”
I sighed. “All right already. Yeah, we’ve been hooking up for a while now.”
“I knew it,” Weston crowed, and Brenner frowned.
“West, it’s not a game. Bailey’s upset.”
“Ah, shit. I’m sorry,” Weston apologized, immediately contrite. “I’m just excited for you. I didn’t mean to joke about it. So what’s the problem, then? From that night at Grady’s housewarming to this past weekend’s engagement party, you two have been getting close. Is it serious?”
I sidestepped the question. “You want to hear something wild? He’s been hiding the fact that we’re together from his best friend. He’s never mentioned we’d been seeing each other.”
“I mean, it’s not as if you’ve been so forthcoming either,” Weston pointed out. “Here we are, practically prying it out of you.”
“What was I supposed to do, call you up and say guess whom I’m schtupping? Those two work together every day. And I didn’t lie to you. I just didn’t say anything. Keston deliberately lied to Ambrose.”
“What’re you talking about?” Brenner asked. “How?”
“Tonight I was at his shop. Ambrose’s girlfriend had mentioned seeing Keston kissing someone on the subway platform this morning.
He denied it, but it was us. He’d stayed over, and we were going to work.
When Ambrose confronted him, he tried to wiggle out of it.
It’s because I’m not part of his cool world.
I’m an uptown, suit-and-tie-wearing lawyer.
” I laughed at the absurdity of it. “People would see Keston—the longer hair, the tattoos—and think, look at Bailey Marks, nice Jewish boy, taking a walk on the wild side. Meanwhile, it’s Keston who’s ashamed of me. ”
“Ah, that’s what had you so upset.” Weston laid a comforting hand on my shoulder. “You really like him and wanted to hear him tell Ambrose you two were seeing each other. Instead, he jerked you around.”
“Yeah. He’s afraid to say we’re together because what? I’m a snob? You know I’m not. Or I have some money so that makes me a bad person? Also false.” I shook my head. “This is so fucked up.”
“I don’t see it that way,” Brenner stated. “Maybe it’s simply his way of trying to figure out how you fit together because you two are so different. And if Ambrose hates lawyers the way Keston says, he could be looking at how to smooth the road for the two of them to have that discussion.”
“He didn’t have to lie,” I repeated, stubborn in my conviction.
“And you walked out, giving him no chance for an explanation,” Brenner said pointedly. “That’s not the adult way to handle things. Especially if you care about him.”
“Do you?” Weston prodded.
That wasn’t something I planned to discuss with them before talking to Keston, especially after how this night had exploded. “I should go home.”
They accompanied me to the door, and Weston gave me an unexpected hug. “Whatever happens with Keston, any man would be lucky to have you as his boyfriend. I know I am to call you my friend.”
Damn. Talk about a one-two punch to the gut. “Thanks,” I managed to whisper.
I called for a car to take me home. It let me out in front of my brownstone, and I stopped short. On the steps, waiting for me, was Keston.