Chapter 2 #2
Staring at me, he spoke nearly as quietly as I had, albeit rigidly. “I didn’t want this.”
“What was the alternative?”
“McHenry.”
“McHenry couldn’t have done it.” I sighed.
“Cooper, we’ve been through this before.
McHenry got you out on bail in twice the time it should have taken.
He would defend you, and you’re right, he wouldn’t ask any questions or make any waves, but neither would he get you an acquittal and that’s what you need. The alternative, Cooper, is jail.”
“I know that,” he growled, but I wasn’t done. Once started, I had trouble stopping.
“You’ve worked too hard. You’ve worked too hard to make a life for yourself.
And for Benjie—if you go to prison, where will that leave him?
Where will it leave me?” I looked at Peter.
“Reasonable doubt. That’s all we have to show.
Reasonable doubt.” The phone rang. Ignoring it, I told Cooper, “Peter can do it, but it won’t be easy.
You have to cooperate. We’ll all have to cooperate. ”
“I’m missing out on good fishing.”
“I’m missing out on good potting, but this is more important than either of those things. It’s your life. Cooper.”
“What’s it worth?” he muttered.
The phone rang again.
“A whole lot, damn it,” I cried in an angry whisper, “at least, that’s what you told me after Adam died, when I didn’t care what happened to me.
Or was it a line? Were you lying?” I’d reached him.
He was looking at me with the kind of dark awareness I knew so well.
“Peter knows what he’s doing. All we have to do is to cooperate with him.
I’m asking you, begging you to do that.”
“He’s expensive, Jill.”
The phone rang again.
“It’s my money. What else am I going to do with it?”
“Buy a condo in the city.”
“What?”
“You heard.”
I was sorry I had. “I don’t want a condo, and I don’t want the city!”
“Not now. Maybe in a year or two.”
“Never.”
“It’s getting time, Jill.”
“Never!” The phone rang again. Swearing, I crossed the room and snatched it up. “Hello!”
“Jill?”
Hanging my head, I took a minute to compose myself. Then I said brightly, “Hi, Samantha.”
“Is he there?”
“Who?” I asked, as if I didn’t know.
“Peter.”
“Oh.” I looked at the floor. “Uh-huh.”
“Is he gorgeous?” she asked. I could just see her eyes. They’d be wide and as eager as her grin.
I turned my back on the two in the room. “How’s David?”
Samantha ignored my pointed question, which was nothing new. She was my older sister by seven years and had always seen me more as a nuisance than a friend. Of course that didn’t mean she couldn’t seek me out when it suited her purpose. Now was one of those times.
“I’ve never met Peter,” she said in a breezy tone that was a little too intent to be casual. “It’s only in the past five years that he’s made a name for himself. Supposedly he went to law school late, and what he did before that is a big mystery. Is he as handsome as he looks in the papers?”
I heard the murmur of voices behind me. “I can’t talk now, Samantha.”
“He sitting right there? Oh, Lord. And Mom says you have him for the weekend. You are one lucky woman. Then again, you probably don’t realize it. Or you’re a nervous wreck. You haven’t dated since Adam died, have you?”
Stretching the cord, I moved into the hall, put a shoulder to the wall and my back to the kitchen and spoke into the receiver, which was practically touching my lips, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is a business meeting.”
“It may start out as one, but it doesn’t have to end that way.
” Her voice dropped with conspiratorial urgency.
“Listen to me, Jill. Peter Hathaway is a catch. He’d be good for you and good for us.
We need new blood in this family, and I can’t think of better blood than his.
He’s successful, he’s loaded and he’s available.
You have him for the weekend. Go for it. ”
I didn’t want to be listening to that, when far more important things were being said in the kitchen. “I can’t talk now. Really, Samantha.”
I’d tried to keep the words as soft as possible, but my impatience must have shown. Samantha’s corresponding pique came through loud and clear.
“You don’t want to talk. You never want to talk, because you think you know it all.
Well, you don’t, Jill. You don’t know anything about men.
You dated Adam from day one at Penn. You married him.
You went off to live in the wilds. Then he died on you, and you’ve lived the life of a nun ever since.
Is that what you want for the rest of your life? ”
“For God’s sake!” I cried, then, remembering the men not far away, lowered my voice to a rough whisper.
“What’s with you?” Back to the wall, I slid down until my bottom hit the floor.
“You’re trying to make something out of absolutely nothing!
” Turning away from the kitchen, I tucked myself up to prevent my voice from carrying far.
“My best friend is in need of legal assistance. I’m seeing that he gets it.
This is business. That’s all. Business. Period. ”
In the silence that followed, I turned my head and tried to tune in to what was being said behind me, but the words were low and indistinct. Then Samantha’s voice came more stridently, and I gave up trying.
“Business, period? What about broadening yourself? Hmm? I thought you were interested in doing that. You moved to the boondocks to be closer to nature. You said you wanted to broaden yourself artistically. Well, what about socially? Or romantically? This is your chance, Jill. Don’t blow it!”
Against my will, my temper rose. “My chance for what? To have a wild and sexy weekend? If that’s your definition of exciting, or broadening, fine. But don’t impose it on me. I have better ways to spend my time.”
“Sure you do—playing the martyr. You’ve been doing it so long, you don’t know anything else.”
“Shut up, Sam.”
“You’re such a pill. Either that or you’re totally ignorant. If I didn’t have other plans, I’d fly up there and show you how it’s done. Obviously you have no idea how to seduce a man.”
It had hurt when she’d called me a martyr, but I could rationalize that when it came to my feelings for Adam, she didn’t know what she was talking about.
When it came to sex, though, she did, so her insult stung.
I’d grown up being put down, feeling inadequate in comparison to Samantha, but I was no longer a child. I didn’t have to stand for her abuse.
Angrily sitting straighter, I said, “If that’s what you think, Samantha, then you’re the one who’s ignorant.
I haven’t led as sheltered a life as you’d like to believe.
There are some stunning men up here, and I mean stunning.
They don’t have designer clothes and cars and condos to fall back on, so they have to produce the appeal all by themselves, and they do it well.
They have what’s called unfettered virility.
They’re sexy as hell. I could seduce a man like that in a minute. ”
“But have you?” Samantha hummed smugly.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I hummed back just as smugly.
She paused for the space of a breath before offering an arch, “Excu-se me. I thought I might be of some help. Obviously you don’t need it. Have a good weekend.”
Seconds later I found myself holding a dead receiver.
Pressing the end of it to my mouth, I felt an old, familiar sadness steal through me.
I’d accepted the fact that Samantha and I would never be close, and it wasn’t just her fault.
I was, in many ways, nearly as headstrong as she, so I shared the blame.
But I was sorry. There had been times over the years when I could have used a sister.
Taking a deep breath, I swiveled on my bottom in a prelude to standing, only to come face to face with a long pair of legs. I cried out in alarm. My gaze shot upward, over narrow hips, a lean middle, then wider shoulders to Peter’s complacent face.
“My Lord, you scared me,” I breathed, pressing a hand—with its telephone receiver—to my pounding heart. “I’m so used to being alone. I’d forgotten anyone was here.” But remembrance came fast. I glanced past him and grew uneasy. “Where’s Cooper?”
“He left.”
“Oh no,” I wailed softly.
“No sweat. We’re meeting again tomorrow afternoon.”
I sank back against the wall in relief. For an instant, I’d imagined that Cooper had taken advantage of my absence to storm off. If he’d done that. I’d have been furious with him, and with Samantha for having distracted me, and with myself for having been distracted.
And I had definitely been distracted. I’d completely forgotten about the men nearby. Looking off in the opposite direction from where Peter stood, I tried to think of what I’d said at the end of my conversation with Samantha that he might have overheard. One possibility was as bad as the next.
And Peter simply gazed down at me, not letting on what he’d heard, leaving me to wonder.
I raised my eyes to his, then dropped them back to the floor. Along the way, I had a second viewing of his length. It was impressive. He was a large man, long and lean. Beneath him, I felt small.
Delicate.
Feminine.
Get up, I told myself, but I couldn’t budge. My legs felt like rubber, and no wonder. The blood that was normally there had been rerouted to my chest. At least, it felt that way, my heart was thudding so loudly.
Nearly frantic to fill the silence between us with some sort of diversion, I looked up at Peter and said, “So. What do you think of Cooper?”
He didn’t answer at first. He had a shoulder propped against the wall and looked as if he could stay that way for a while. I was glad one of us was comfortable.
“I’m not sure,” he answered at last. “He’s tense. And angry.”
“I told you he would be. But do you think you can work with him?”