62. June
62
JUNE
“ W hat do you mean they’re still deliberating?” I squeak at Dana. We’re in her office—it’s the way we’ve started most days since the trial began.
She sighs. “Precisely what I said.”
“Is that a good sign or a bad one?” Anderson asks.
“To be honest, at this point, I’m not sure anymore. But when I hear something, I’ll call you.”
“What do we do until then?”
Dana smiles at me like I’m simple. “You’re newlyweds. I’m sure you can figure something out.”
So, we do. For two days, we make love in every way we can imagine. I tweak my neck, and Anderson does something to his back, so by the time we’re due back in court, we’re both walking a little funny. Considering what we’re facing, I hardly care anymore. How we walk now has no bearing on what the jury has already decided.
But Anderson has this unsettling resigned look in his eyes. It makes me wonder if all that talk about hope and justice was just talk. Maybe he’s been saying those things to keep me calm. I hate that for him. He should be able to tell me his feelings, but if they’re scary, he tries to keep them inside. It’s something he would do for me. I know he would.
The sweet liar.
I take his hand in mine as we go in, and he gives me a sad smile when he looks down at me. Today is the day. We both know it. It’s all or nothing.
Once we’re seated, Judge Ackerman gives a come hither gesture, saying, “Councilors, approach.”
That can’t be normal, right?
The three of them confer with each other, and I look at Anderson. He had more criminal law classes than I did back in school, so maybe he knows what’s happening. Only he looks as confused as I am.
No one on the jury will make eye contact with me. They only look at the judge. Except for the one guy who’s been ogling the clerk this whole trial.
The lawyers are sent back to the tables, and I try to get a vibe off of Dana, but she obviously can’t say anything. She doesn’t even doodle on her notepad.
This can’t be good.
The judge begins, “Madam foreperson, I understand deliberations have come to an uneasy conclusion.”
“Your honor, we have not been able to reach a verdict.”
What?
“Do you think further deliberations are necessary?”
“We are deadlocked, your honor.”
Oh my god.
He nods at her, then looks at Anderson. “Given the jury is deadlocked, I have no choice but to declare a mistrial.”
I’m shaking. What does that mean? My law degree is failing me right now.
“The prosecution retains the option to retry this case, Mr. West. But for the time being, you are free to go.” He pops the gavel one last time, and all hell breaks loose in my head.
Elliot, Kitty, and Cole head for us, but I hardly notice them. Anderson hugs me tight, murmuring, “I can’t believe it.”
But I need answers and shrug him off. “Dana, what?—"
“It’s too tight between now and election season for Tanner to use you for his campaign, so if he wants you, he’ll have to win his election, and given he doesn’t have this case to run on … ” She smirks, then nods toward the door.
I look through the crowd and see him barging into the hall like a raging bull. A laugh escapes me, and then I’m swept up in a hug from Kitty. She clasps my shoulders in her hands and looks me in the eyes. “Thank you, June.”
“What? Why are you thanking me?”
“It takes a strong woman to handle this nightmare. Thank you for standing by my son.”
“It’s my honor.”
Next, Elliot comes at me with a handshake, but he pulls me into a hug. It’s robotic, but he manages. “You’ve done well.”
High praise from him. “Thank you, Elliot.”
“Let’s celebrate,” he says. “We’ll go to the club, have some drinks?—"
“Dad, if you don’t mind, I’d rather not,” Anderson says. “I appreciate the gesture of it, but after this circus, all I want is some quiet time with my wife. Maybe we can do the club this weekend.”
To my surprise, Elliot smiles and nods. “Splendid. We’ll get in a round of golf, then meet the ladies for drinks.”
But my head is going to explode. “They said Tanner could come after Anderson later. Why aren’t we focusing on that right now?”
Kitty sighs. “Sometimes, June, right now is all we have. You can’t stop Tanner from doing what he’s going to do. But you can enjoy today. You two, go on. I need a big, stiff drink and a year’s worth of sleep.”
When we part ways, things feel unfinished. But Kitty’s right. I’m not going to snatch future problems from current victories. I’m going to enjoy my husband.
As a treat, I take him to the Ritz. Once we’re in our suite—the same one we were in last time—he asks, “So, why here?”
“Our apartment building has been swarmed by reporters for weeks now, and I’m just done dealing with them for today. They’re all going to want some of your time, and well … ” I step forward and kiss him. “I want all of your time. Consider it a sort of honeymoon.”
He loosens his tie. “I owe you one of those, don’t I?”
“Mm, hmm.”
He smirks, looking me up and down in my earth-tone suit. “Not exactly the honeymoon clothes I was expecting for my wife.”
I snort a laugh. “Nor is this the destination honeymoon I’ve always dreamed of, but I’ll take what I can get.”
“I thought you said you didn’t dream of a wedding when you were a little girl.”
Chuckling, I admit, “I didn’t. But the honeymoon always sounded like way more fun. In my mind, a wedding was a big, stuffy affair with uncomfortable clothes. But a vacation without my parents? That sounded magical.”
He laughs and takes my hand, leading me from the foyer. “This way, Mrs. West.”
“Where are we going, Mr. West?”
“To the bedroom, where we will order far too much room service, some clothes to be delivered, and have some peace and quiet.”
“Oooh, I’ll race you there.”
But the second I take a step to run, he swoops me up into his arms. “No racing.”
“What are you doing?”
“I didn’t get to carry my wife over the threshold, so this will have to do.” He carts me through the bedroom doorway and lays me on the bed. Then he winces, “Should not have done that after what we did to my back yesterday.”
“Oh, honey, are you okay?”
He laughs at himself. “I’ll be fine, but I’m adding in-room massages to the list of things we’re ordering in here.”
“Yes!” I groan at the thought.
He makes some calls for the food and massage, and then one to a delivery service I didn’t know existed so we have more clothes to wear since we didn’t go home and pack. He gives them our sizes and some preferences, and that’s it. By the time he’s off the phone with everyone, the food arrives.
I hadn’t paid attention, so I’m a little surprised when three carts of food roll in. “This is excessive.”
He grins. “I know.”
We dive into the food, everything from abalone to a baked ziti so good I want to cry. I’m stretched out on the bed by the time we finish, and I’m convinced I’m going to give birth to a ziti baby. “This is why you ordered the massages for later, isn’t it? Give us time to digest?”
He’s equally beached next to me. “Yep.”
Our clothing delivery comes, and I’m shocked by how well they did. But I cringe at the thought of putting on anything with a waist. Going through the pile, I sigh. “I’ll stick with the robe for now, thanks.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think about that part of it,” he says. Then he motions for me to come sit on his lap, and I’m only too happy to do so. “There are too many things on my mind right now.”
“We really dodged a bullet for the time being?—"
“Not that. Or rather, not only that.” He brushes my curls back from my face, pinning one behind my ear. “Everything we’ve been through has shown me it’s foolish to postpone happiness.”
“I completely agree. Maybe we can look at honeymoons and book one?”
He smiles. “We can do that. But that’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean?”
Anderson takes a breath, like he needs it for courage. After today, I cannot imagine what he needs courage for, so I’m a little nervous. He licks his bottom lip and looks into my eyes. “I want to have a baby with you.”
“Well, yeah, I mean, we’ve talked about having kids?—"
“Not in the future. Right now.”
A nervous laugh escapes me. “I’m not pregnant, so we can’t have one right now.”
“Funny,” he says wryly. He holds me tighter. “I want to start trying. Now.”
All the blood rushes through me, unsure where to settle. “ Now , now?”
“Yes.”
“Um, maybe the most important decision of our lives shouldn’t be made today?—"
“On the contrary, I think it’s the perfect day.
There’s a nice symmetry to it, don’t you think?”
My heart tugs in my chest. I’ve wanted this for so long. But I need to know he’s not making an emotional choice that will haunt him in the future. I take his face in my hands. “You’re actually sure about this? No hesitation, no questions on the inside, no?—"
He kisses me, rolling me onto my back on the bed. Hovering over me, he says, “Mrs. West, I want to have your babies.”
I snort a laugh at him. “If you think it works that way, we have more pressing concerns.”
He grins at me, and my heart swells. “June, I want to have babies with you. As many as you want. All you have to do is say yes.”
I bite my lip, not knowing what to say. It feels like a huge step. Because it is. But also because the future is so uncertain right now. We could be at trial again next year.
Maybe he is being emotional. Is that so bad? Hell, if he weren’t emotional after today, I’d be worried. Still, I don’t want him to regret the decision. I should say no. Or not no, but later.
Or something else could go wrong. But what if it went right?
I’m halfway between decisions, but he needs an answer. “Mr. West, I?—"
Someone knocks at the door, and he grunts, “Who the hell?—"
“The massages.” I move to get up.
But he keeps me pinned. “Fuck them. I want an answer.”
Seeing that hope in his eyes again is all I really needed. I want that quality in our kids. I’m too negative. I need his positivity to balance me out. That’s what makes us such a good team.
That’s what will make us such good parents. “Yes.”
“Really?” he asks.
“Yes, Mr. West, I’ll let you have my babies.”
He laughs and kisses me within an inch of my life. The massages are wonderful and last way too long. My mind isn’t on relaxation. It’s on baby making. When Anderson closes the door behind the massage therapists, I can tell by the look in his eyes that’s where he’s at, too.
The future isn’t certain. It never is. But for now, there’s hope.