Chapter 17
chapter seventeen
patrice
It had been the longest week in fucking history, but somehow Nesto had managed to stay on track and OuNYe’s first annual fundraiser for local social services agencies was happening tonight. I was meeting Easton at the courthouse, and we were supposed to walk there together.
Things with Ari had calmed down. He was still staying with me, but the plan was to find him a place.
Harold Sheridan, Nesto’s business partner, was making noise about helping him with school and Easton had offered him a studio in our building for almost nothing.
The lawyer he’d gotten for him was great, and Ari seemed to be slowly getting out of the funk he’d been in after that mess with his uncle.
The man had made no attempt to get in touch with him in the week since he’d been staying with me, which told me him getting out of there had been the right move.
I’d seen again and again how people had come out to take care of Ari.
The community that Nesto had found here in Ithaca had supported Ari in every way he needed.
Despite the issues in town—and there were many—this place had come through in a big way for one of its own.
I also felt like I’d been a part of that effort, that I was already part of the tapestry here somehow.
Like I could make a place for myself here.
I should’ve known that the warm and fuzzy feeling wouldn’t last long. While I was trying to get into the courthouse, I stopped in my tracks as the bailiff looked me up and down a few times while I tried not to suck my teeth.
“Can I help you, sir?”
“I’m here to meet someone from the DA’s office. Easton Archer.” Polite, calm. I didn’t need to get heated.
He gave me another thorough once-over as I put my wallet and watch into a little bin on the conveyor belt.
I was still not sure what was happening, because the guy was certainly interested in me.
I was not looking for a reason to get mad today, so I kept it moving.
When I got to the other side, he stared at me like he was going to say something, but at the last minute just waved me through.
When I started heading for the elevators, he pointed to the marble staircase at the center of the courthouse. “Courtroom is on the second floor. I think they’re wrapping up.”
I thanked him and headed up the stairs and quietly walked into the back of the courtroom. I headed for one of the wooden benches in the back of the room. It was a huge space with dizzyingly high ceilings, and still the air was crackling with tension.
As I sat down, I tuned into Easton’s booming voice.
I didn’t really look up until I’d settled into my seat, but when I zeroed in on him, he seemed to be in complete control of the room.
He was in one of his Tom Ford suits, hair, shoes, tie, everything perfectly in place as he addressed the jury.
Hands in his pockets, body relaxed and casual, but his words were strident.
He was talking about the victim, about what her life had been like before she was assaulted, what her life was like now.
The strength it took for her to seek justice.
After a breath, his relaxed pose turned more commanding.
As if to say, “I’m done taking it easy on you. ”
When he spoke again, every word was an edict. “I ask today that you take the duty this court gives you and deliver the justice Ms. Suarez deserves.”
With that, he ended his summation and in two long strides, was back at his table. Every person in the room seemed to cut off the imaginary strings he’d kept us on as he talked. Easton had completely commanded our attention and now that the moment ended, we could all take a breath.
That’s when I realized it. This is where it all went.
The fierceness, the fury, the intensity; he put it all into this.
His work is where Easton unleashed all that passion I got to see, but that he rarely showed elsewhere.
I finally realized that, like me, Easton kept his true self tightly under wraps; only a precious few got to ever see who he really was.
I sat there letting it sink in as the judge gave the jury their instructions for deliberation, before concluding for the day.
As people started gathering their things and the twelve tasked with delivering justice were ushered away, I moved up the aisle to go talk to Easton.
As I got to him, I saw an older black woman come to give him a hug, which he returned.
There were people walking around him but it was like he didn’t even realize they were there, his attention completely on her.
They stepped out of the room, talking quietly, not noticing my approach.
By the time I caught up with him, she was giving him another hug and openly crying. He tightened his arm around her, and I could see he was working hard not to cry, too. He watched her walk away, his shoulders tense, like the weight of the world was settled right between them.
I wasn’t sure what I thought Easton did in this building every day. But right then was when it sunk in. People counted on him to right wrongs every single day and he stepped up to that challenge. He somehow handled it all and still managed to be how he was, who he was.
I touched his arm lightly and he startled at the touch. “Hey.”
As soon as he saw me, his eyes lit up and he almost pushed up for a kiss, but at the last moment, just tapped me on the shoulder.
“You were something in there.” I pointed my chin in the direction I’d seen the woman go. “Was that lady related to Ms. Suarez?”
He nodded with a sigh as he lifted a hand, indicating we head up the stairs.
“That’s her mom.” He spoke so low I had to bend down to hear him.
“She’s pretty amazing, put herself through nursing school while taking care of three kids on her own,” he said, his eyes softening as he talked about the woman.
“I hope we did what we needed to do in there,” he said, shaking his head.
As we got to the landing, he pointed at a door that said District Attorney’s Office.
“I just have to grab my stuff. Everyone in the office is headed to Nesto’s thing, so we all agreed that we’ll reconvene some time tomorrow. The jury is not deliberating until Monday morning. It’s a waiting game for a few days.”
He sounded tired, and I knew he was probably exhausted.
I’d slept at his place for the last few nights, and every morning, he’d been up and out by 4:30 a.m. He’d go for a quick workout at the gym in the building and would be in his office by 5:30 a.m. I was pretty intense about my gym time, but even I couldn’t keep up with Easton’s hours.
“You’re exhausted,” I said as we walked through a cluttered mess of cubicles and offices.
He lifted a shoulder, the smudges under his eyes more noticeable in the bad fluorescent lighting. “I’ll just be a minute. I’d give you a tour of the office, but all we have is piles of paper and bad carpeting.”
He wasn’t lying.
I thought my small office in the economics building was a blast from the past, but this made my office-in-a-box seem sleek and modern in comparison.
The entire space looked like it hadn’t been renovated since the seventies. Clearly a place where people were too busy to think about décor.
It was not how I’d envisioned where Easton spent his days.
I’m not sure why I thought that someone who worked for the county would have an office that looked like a Wall Street law firm, but that’s what I’d imagined.
Now, walking into his small and cluttered office, painted in a very non-pleasing bright blue, the reality of who Easton Archer was hit me.
He had opted into this. Knowing the family he came from, I was almost certain there was an empty office somewhere decorated in sleek leather, hardwood, and chrome he could’ve claimed. That he walked away from, to do this.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Easton’s puzzled tone snapped me back from my errant thoughts.
“Like what?” I asked, perfectly aware that I’d been staring.
“Like you’re trying to crack a code,” he said as he got his coat on. His brow furrowed at whatever face I’d been pulling.
“Not a code. I was trying to figure you out.”
“Me?” he asked, as if I’d said something terrifying.
“Yes. You.” I lifted my shoulders as I leaned on the wall waiting for him and decided to say something that I’d needed to say for a long time. “I was just thinking that you’re sort of an outlier. The more I know, the more I like you. Which is generally not the case.”
“Well thank goodness for that,” he joked, stepped up to me, and smoothly closed the door to his office.
His eyes looked tired, but that ever-present playfulness was there.
When he leaned in to kiss me, he ran his hand behind my neck.
I sighed into his mouth, tongues caressing as we came together, a reconnection after a long day.
When he pulled back, he looked back to normal again.
My sunny man.
“I needed that.” He sounded like he’d just taken a bite of the most decadent dessert. “Now let’s go to this fundraiser.”
He looked a little hesitant when he said it, and that surprised me. “You don’t want to go?”
He sighed as we made our way to the elevator, then turned to me, speaking quietly. “Of course, I want to be there. I wouldn’t let Nesto down.” His gaze dipped and when he looked up, he had the unhappy expression that appeared anytime a particular subject came up.
“Are you parents going to be there?”
He lifted a shoulder in response and we moved to get into the elevator.
“I’m not sure, I haven’t talked to them, but my sister will be there.
She heads all the philanthropic efforts for the winery, so they may not come.
But OuNYe’s is the new hot place in town and knowing them, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re there. ”