11 - Lane
Lane
Lying, I discovered long ago, required the exact same mechanics as cross-examination.
You had to control your breathing, fix your gaze on an unyielding point, and absolutely refuse to acknowledge the evidence stacked against you.
I had the theory down pat, but the practical implementation left much to be desired, if Nance’s words were anything to go by.
"I still can’t believe you remembered," Silas said, his beautiful, rugged face lit up with a grin that made the guilt in my gut twist like a rusted wire.
He was leaning over the kitchen island, eagerly helping himself to a massive second portion of the Italian beef.
"The Blocks has the best giardiniera in the city, hands down. Miss Whittaker, you’re an absolute saint. "
That was me, Lane Whittaker, the saintliest saint that ever lived.
At the very least, I had the requisite religious-style guilt in my arsenal.
Dax was notably not eating too much himself where he sat across the table from Sy and me.
He was back to being unnervingly quiet, as per his own standards, and every once in a while, my eyes would drift to him.
The fact I never caught him trying to look at me felt a lot like a loss.
He was apparently a much better liar than I was.
Silas was none the wiser to the awkwardness that had settled between us, chewing happily around a mouthful of giardiniera while he made his way back to his spot at the dinner table.
"It’s just a thank-you for the extra hours, Sy," I said, my voice smooth, even, and entirely rehearsed. I kept my hands wrapped tightly around my wine glass. Whereas it was usually easy for me to make conversation and joke around with them, I was suddenly feeling hyper aware of every word I said. Like if I didn’t think it three times over, I’d give myself away and announce my guilt to Sy and Bear.
But why was I even feeling guilty in the first place? I wasn’t dating anyone, wasn’t betraying or hurting anyone. Yet every bit of praise from Silas made me want the floor to open up and swallow me. I hadn’t even looked at Bear yet.
I took a sip of wine.
Dax had still not said a word. He had already changed into a clean shirt, but the scent of the pantry and the heavy heat of what we had just done seemed to radiate off him in suffocating waves even though I was sure I was the only one who could smell it.
He was aggressively focused on rolling up a sandwich, his jaw set in a rigid line. And then it happened, the smallest break in his nonchalance. The sudden, sharp click of his fork against the plate betrayed the exact same erratic adrenaline that had just wrecked us in the closet.
This time, Sy did notice. He gestured to Dax. “And that? Are you feeling sick or something?”
Dax shook his head. “Just a bit overworked today. I’ll sleep it off.”
And of course, it was that moment that he chose to flick his gaze to me, just briefly enough for me to catch him. I swallowed hard and went back to my meal but that familiar, prickly feeling of being watched danced across my skin again and without even looking up I knew that it was Bear.
I didn’t want to look at him. Bear was frustratingly good at reading people.
He’d done that to me once before already.
He’d seen straight through my bullshit and called me out for it but this time, I couldn’t risk it.
His stare burned a hole in the side of my head, and I warily made eye contact, apparently now fully committed to my new pastime of making bad decisions.
When our eyes locked, I couldn’t read the expression behind his. They were usually expressive even despite his more stoic personality, but now those brown eyes gave me nothing in return for my own candor except the obvious knowledge that he was tracking everything in the room.
He sat at the end of the table, his heavy shoulders hunched forward as he chewed in silence. My ears burned.
Did he know?
No, that was ridiculous. How could he possibly have known?
The atmosphere was a living thing, choking out the warmth that Silas was trying to bring to the table. My throat was so tight that it felt like every bite I took was getting stuck, not budging under the torrent of wine I was gulping like water.
I couldn’t take it anymore and excused myself early, citing a mountain of brief-prep for tomorrow's docket, and retreated upstairs to the cold, solitary comfort of my bedroom. The fact that Bear didn’t even try to stop me was one of the final pieces of evidence that I needed to at least suspect that he knew something.
*
Nance blinked at me slowly, her brain trying to compute everything I’d just told her. All of the words made sense in the order in which I stated them. The complete curveball to logic here, was that this was coming from me.
“Okay, wait, can you repeat the story again?” she asked, her face still frozen in shock.
I rubbed my temple with a sigh and flopped into my seat.
We had a rare break today, one that offered enough time for me to finally fill Nancy in on everything that had happened so far.
I’d kept her on the periphery of things, but after I lost all goddamn common sense with Dax, I figured what the hell.
I might as well add more fuel to the dumpster fire that was my life choices.
“Do you really need me to go through everything again?” I asked and she snorted, clicking her pen as though finally having made her own ruling of the situation.
“I’m just teasing, Laney. Look, I won’t lie and say that I am not absolutely flabbergasted at your recent escapades. But, as your friend and paralegal assistant, I do feel the need to remind you that this is a victimless crime,” she said.
“Then why do I feel like I’m the worst person alive?” I asked.
“Did anyone get hurt? Is anyone filing a suit? No. You had a moment of reckless, unadulterated fun. God knows you haven’t had an ounce of it since the Obama administration. Let it go."
"He's his best friend, Nance," I hissed, standing to my feet and pacing the length of the rug on my office floor.
“Were you exclusive with him?” she pushed.
I halted mid-step. “Well, no. But that’s not the point. It’s just the…the principle of things. It feels icky.”
“You, better than anyone else, know that ‘ickiness’ wouldn’t ever hold up in court. You’re human, it’s okay to admit that, and humans are messy,” she said. “You can offer yourself some grace.”
“Silas is an amazing guy, Nance,” I groaned, closing my eyes. “And so is Bear. I fucked up. I was enjoying their company but crossing the line just makes me feel like I did something unforgivable. Flirting is one thing but these men have known each other for years. What if I end up ruining that?”
“You won’t. You had a moment of weakness and got whatever was going between you and Dax out of your system.
You didn’t promise anything to anyone, which means you didn’t break anyone’s trust.” Nance leaned forward, grabbing my hands and forcing me to stop pacing.
“Lane, it was just a hookup. You didn’t slaughter anyone’s puppy so you can stop self-flagellating. ”
She was right, as usual. But that didn’t stop the uneasy feeling rolling around in my belly.
“What do I do?” I asked.
In all the years that Nancy and I had been friends and co-workers, I don’t recall ever asking her that simple but incredibly vulnerable question. I wasn’t leading the charge on a tough case this time. I was trying to pick up the pieces of a small bit of peace I feared I’d broken for myself.
She gave me a soft, anchoring smile and squeezed my hands. “You accept what happened as just a bit of innocent fun between two grown adults. Then you move on, say nothing to the other two and let them finish their job.”
I took a deep breath, feeling more centered and in control again for the first time since yesterday. I was grateful that even though it would’ve been the easiest thing in the world for Nancy to tease me right now, she chose to offer comfort. There was no judgement in her voice, there’d never been.
“Did I ever tell you how insanely lucky I am to have you?” I asked.
“Nowhere near enough for the amount of times I’ve saved your ass, but it’s a start,” she said, and I let myself laugh shakily. “You’ve got this, Lane. You always do.”
Her words were the catalyst I needed to find myself again.
The day finally concluded with a successful hearing that injected a fierce, needed surge of confidence in my veins.
Climbing off the train and making my way to Logan Square that evening, most of the heaviness I’d been shouldering had finally lifted.
I was still me.
Another very positive feat of the day was that there’d been no angry text messages from Sandy about the zoning variances. And when I stepped through the front door, the house felt lighter. The rhythmic, heavy thud of construction echoed from below, but it didn't trigger panic.
I had this in the bag.
I descended into the basement, dropping my briefcase onto a temporary work table set up just outside the master bedroom. Silas was standing inside where he looked up from a newly framed partition wall, his dusty topknot loose, his face beaming. "Welcome back, Counselor. How’d it go today?”
"A complete bloodbath," I said, a genuine smile breaking across my face as I leaned against the doorframe.
Dax was standing near a stack of drywall, a low-slung crowbar dangling from his fingers. His accusatory glare from the day before was gone, replaced by that familiar, infuriatingly cocky smirk. He looked at me, his eyes dropping briefly down my body before snapping back to my face.