Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Spencer
“Do you need anything else before I take off?” I pick up my hammer and power drill from the kitchen counter and stick them in my tool bag.
Vivien tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t think so. You did too much, I think.”
I’m prolonging the inevitable. The house is ready. The heat was turned on three days ago, the day after the Graham Deadwyler night that ended up being Rear Window night.
I spent more time watching Vivien sitting in front of me than James Stewart with his telescope. I found the thought of his neighbor being a murderer slightly less revolting than watching Graham glance over at Vivien during the movie. What was he looking at?
She handed him her phone while everyone was milling around in the lobby before the show. The entire town saw it and immediately commented on it.
“They would have beautiful babies.”
“He needs someone to bring him out of his shell.”
“They look perfect together.”
I shake away the memories and pull myself back to the present. “It’s nothing.”
“You didn’t have to fix the broken closet door, or the running toilet, and you definitely didn’t have to stock the fridge full of enough food to feed the entire neighborhood.”
I shrug. “It was no big deal. I showed Audrey how to fix the toilet if it starts running again. You just have to push the stopper down so the tank will fill. I’ll bring a replacement by later this week.”
She lifts a hand. “Wait a minute. You showed Audrey how to fix a toilet?”
“She asked.”
Her mouth drops open. “She asked? Hold on, I need to look outside and see if Dorothea’s pigs are flying.”
I chuckle. “She is clueless about a lot, I’ll give you that, but it seems like she’s trying to learn.”
“I guess,” Vivien murmurs. A crease forms between her brows.
“When will your car be ready?” I ask.
“In a couple days.”
“That’s good.”
I want to say more. But what? I want you? I can’t say that. I shouldn’t even be thinking it.
Except she’s staring at me too. She glances away, biting her lip. What is she thinking?
My phone dings with a text.
Are you coming back soon? I have to run home real quick to check on Mom.
It’s from Quinn.
“I have to get back to the office.” I text Quinn to go ahead and take off since I’m on my way and then slip the phone back in my pocket.
“Of course. Thanks again.”
By the time I’m unlocking the office door, I’ve managed to pull myself together.
Sort of.
I have to shift gears and focus on work that’s been piling up. Quinn can only handle so much. Speaking of . . . I drop my tool bag on the floor and then tap out a quick text to let her know I’m back in the office and to let me know if she needs anything.
I shrug out of my coat and sit at my desk, wiggling the mouse to wake up my computer.
The clock on the wall chimes while the screen flickers to life. It’s already two.
I rub my face.
Focus. I have to finish drafting the update to Mr. Levingston’s living trust and submit it to the court. Maybe before they close at five.
I can do this.
Clicking around, I pull the draft up on one screen and state laws on amending a revocable trust on the other monitor.
The settlor may revoke or amend a revocable trust by substantial compliance with a method provided in the terms of the trust.
Vivien was so beautiful this morning when she answered the door at the farmhouse. She was wearing dusty sweats and a T-shirt and her hair was pulled back, because she was cleaning out some of the unused rooms, but her smile lit up the whole porch.
She looked better than a movie star.
She is a movie star.
She and Graham would be great together. A famous writer, a famous actress.
They are like two golden suns, even if Graham’s face usually resembles a thundercloud.
She would be good for him.
It would be better for everyone if they got together.
It would be even better if I could stop thinking about her and focus on work. Work is my life, not Vivien.
Dear lord, that’s depressing.
My phone vibrates on the desk. For once, I welcome the interruption.
“Hey, Carter. What’s up, man?” I answer.
“You want to go get burgers later? I haven’t had time to go to the store this week.”
“Sure.” It will be good for me to get out of the house. Distract me. Work isn’t working, clearly.
“Are your guests still there? Would they want to go, or are they too posh for greasy diner food?”
“They moved into Beverly’s old place earlier today. Vivien loves Betty’s Diner. Not sure if Audrey has tried it.”
“They are so different.”
“What do you mean?” I pick up my pen, flipping it around my fingers.
“I don’t know. Even though Vivien was so famous, she seems so normal. Audrey is kinda snobby.”
I lean back in my seat. “She’s not that bad, actually. They are different, but Audrey is just younger. Inexperienced.”
There’s a pause. “Did something happen between you two?”
I drop the pen. “Who, me and Audrey?”
“Yeah.”
I have to put the phone away from my face so I don’t laugh into it. “No. Nothing happened. She’s too young for me.”
“She’s probably early twenties. Not much younger than me.”
“I’m thirty. You’re both too young for me.”
“Whatever, old man. I was teasing. I know you’re in love with Vivien. Now, get back to work. I’ll call you later.”
“I am not—”
He hangs up.
Dick. I chuck my phone back on the desk and then turn back to the Massachusetts Uniform Trust Code.
A presumption of undue influence may arise where a confidential relationship exists, and the beneficiary was involved in procuring the amendment . . .
Shit. This is awful.
The office door opens. Oh, good, another distraction. Maybe it will keep my thoughts off Vivien, who I am not in love with. I just find her attractive. That’s all.
Vivien appears in the doorway, her cheeks pink from the cold.
I blink at her like she’s an apparition. Did I conjure her?
She speaks. “Hey. Sorry, I forgot my toothbrush, I think.”
I shift to my feet.
“Please.” She holds up a hand. “Don’t let me disrupt you. I’ll pop upstairs and grab it and get out of your hair.”
I should absolutely sit back down. Let her go search for the toothbrush. There is literally no good reason for me to help her. And yet, when I open my mouth to tell her to go ahead, it’s like the words pop out of someone else’s mouth. “I’ll go with you.”
She nods. “Great.”
I follow her up the stairs, trying my damn hardest not to watch her legs as she moves, the flex of her calves in her tight jeans. I’m absolutely not picturing them wrapped around me.
I trip on the stairs.
“Are you okay?” She stops, turning back to check on me.
“Fine.”
In the apartment suite, she flicks on the bathroom light.
It’s a small space. It takes half a second to ascertain that there is, in fact, no toothbrush on the narrow counter.
“Hmm,” she says, bending over to check around the sink.
My eyes fall shut.
Is she trying to kill me?
The cabinet door creaks as it opens and closes.
I blink and force my eyes open, right as she’s straightening to face me.
“Maybe I did grab it, but it’s in the wrong bag or something.” She’s too close.
I should turn around, step back, and walk away.
Instead, I rest a shoulder against the doorjamb. “Or Audrey packed it with hers.”
“Yeah.”
There isn’t more than a foot or of space between us.
We shouldn’t be standing so close. We shouldn’t be alone together. We shouldn’t be silently staring at each other like two mooning idiots, slowly moving closer.
What am I doing?
She steps closer.
What is she doing?
She continues her slow approach. Her eyes are warm, her smile soft. Lethal combination.
She could ask me to murder someone right now, and I would probably say yes.
I’m not sure who moves first, or if we move at the same time, but a second later she’s in my arms, and we’re kissing like it’s our last night alive on earth.
She tastes like sugar and spring flowers and heaven.
One of my hands slips into her hair, cupping her skull. The other goes to her waist, pulling her closer.
Her fingers clutch at the front of my sweater.
My back runs into the doorframe, and she presses into me.
I kiss down the side of her neck, nibbling on the spot just above her collarbone.
“I want you so badly.” She presses her palm against my raging erection.
I groan against her neck. This is going to end very quickly if she keeps touching me there, but if she stops, I might die.
“Spence? Spencer? You home?” Carter’s voice breaks through the haze of lust clouding my senses.
“Spencer? Are you upstairs?” Closer and louder than before.
I reach for Vivien’s searching hand and grab it, holding it against my pounding heart and trying to catch my breath. “Vivien. Wait.”
“Hmm?” Her lips brush against my jaw.
“We have to stop. Carter is here.”
Her head drops against my chest.
We’re both breathing too fast.
“Stay here. I’ll get rid of him.”
In a feat of herculean strength, I set her away from me.
Her eyes are glazed, her lips swollen.
“Spence?” He’s at the top of the stairs now, or closer. Goddammit.
I’m going to kill him.
I stalk out of the room and meet Carter at the door. “Hey. Sorry I was just, uh, cleaning up something in there. Let’s go downstairs.”
Once we’re in my office, Carter talks at me while I pretend to listen.
Something about dinner and rescheduling it to later because of all the work at the school and how he tried to call, and maybe I reply, I don’t really remember, it’s all kind of a blur until he’s gone and I’m standing at the front door, leaning my head against the cool glass.
The floor creaks behind me. “We can’t be around each other anymore,” I say without turning around.
“I know.” Her voice is low.
I turn around.
She’s standing in the center of the waiting room, behind the sofa. “You’ll have to be at the next task though.”
“We can’t be around each other alone anymore,” I amend.
She smiles sadly. “Okay.”
I open the door, gripping the handle like it’s a lifeline.
She leaves without another word.
After I shut the door, I stand there for a minute.
I’m going to have to watch her with Graham again. It’s going to suck, but I have to push through it.
I have to keep my distance. I can’t get involved with a client. It’s ethically questionable at best, and an offense that could get me disbarred at worst. Once we start, I won’t be able to stop.