She Wants It All: Sheridan Hall Series, Book Three

by Calla, Jessica

  “I guess that’s what they mean when they say pregnant women glow,” Maggie says. “She looks great.”

  When she reaches our group, everyone stops and stares, not sure what to say. She lifts a hand and waggles her fingers. “Hi.” She looks to Ben first. “I like your kilt.”

  Ben chuckles, and the mood lightens. “Thanks. I heard women have a thing for them.”

  Amber giggles. She looks at me, and I grin. The connection I felt to her and the baby in New Haven is still there. I’ll help her any way I can.

  Megan glances at Amber’s belly. “How are you feeling?”

  When Juliet and Chase notice Amber, they join the circle.

  “Oh, I’m fine.” She holds her hand out to Evan, and he shakes it, introducing himself. Then she turns to Maggie and me.

  “I wanted to apologize to you, Maggie. I have no excuse for my behavior, except that I was scared and emotional. I hope you can forgive me.”

  Maggie smiles at Amber. “Of course I can. Only if you let me touch your belly.”

  Amber glances at me, and I roll my eyes. More with the belly touching. “Sure.” She sticks her belly toward Maggie.

  Maggie puts her palm on Amber’s belly. “Aww!” she says. “Do you know what you’re having?”

  “A baby!” I tease, winking at Amber. Maggie smacks my arm.

  “A boy.” She moves Maggie’s hands to the side of her belly. “Feel him?”

  Maggie gasps. “He’s moving!”

  “He does that a lot lately.”

  “Do you know what you’re going to name him?” Juliet asks.

  She smiles and looks around the circle. “I was thinking Frank. After his father.”

  I do a double take as Chase’s glass hits the floor. Pooja stands up straight and then faints, right into Rocco’s arms. Rocco’s catches her, but he’s not looking at her. He’s focused on Amber. “Did you say Frank? Our Frank?”

  “Oh my God,” Juliet says, running to Rocco. She kneels on the ground, and he lays Pooja’s head in her lap.

  People start to notice, so we huddle around Pooja. Amber falls to Pooja’s side. “I’m sorry! I thought Dave told you. I would have thought of a nicer way….”

  Meg runs over with a cloth napkin dipped in a water glass as a crowd gathers around. She dabs Pooja’s head, and her eyes flutter open.

  “I’m sorry,” Amber says, focused on me. “I thought they all knew.”

  Maggie shakes her head. “Dave didn’t tell us.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” Ben asks. He helps Pooja stand.

  The answer is obvious to me. “Honestly, it wasn’t my thing to tell. It’s Amber’s business.”

  Maggie puts her arms around me. “You did the right thing.”

  Juliet and Meg help Pooja into a chair. Rocco turns to Amber. “Frank didn’t tell me you guys were…involved.”

  Amber grins, and her eyes fill with tears. “It was just once. The night before he…died. Maybe he didn’t have a chance.”

  Rocco squints and studies Amber. “All this time. Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

  I move to her side and touch her arm, glaring at Rocco. “Maybe this isn’t the right time, Rocco.” I glance at the people around us. “Stop grilling her about her private information.”

  Maggie stands next to us. “He’s right, Roc. Let’s leave it, okay?”

  Rocco points to the crowd. “Frank’s grandmother is here. Maybe she’d want to know you’re carrying her great-grandchild.”

  Amber’s face freezes, her eyes widening. “No. Please. Not tonight. Not now.”

  I stand between her and Rocco. Suzi appears from the crowd and beelines for Amber. “Are you okay?” Suzi asks her.

  I turn to Suzi. “Can you take Amber home?”

  She reaches for Amber’s hand. “Sure.”

  I tell Amber I’ll call her. When they leave, Maggie stands by my side as I glare at Rocco. “Back off. I think Pooja needs you.”

  He grunts but moves away.

  When the excitement’s over, Juliet moves around the outer edge of the circle, muttering about dessert and encouraging the crowd to disperse. Soon, everyone’s settled and coupled off again. I ask Maggie if she’s ready to go.

  She looks around at her friends. “Please.”

  Maggie

  It’s eleven-thirty by the time we return to Sheridan. We run down to the basement and fling open the door to room three in a rush to get my paper sent by midnight. Inside, I turn to Dave. “I think it’s nice that you didn’t tell anyone Amber’s business. You’re a good guy. I can’t believe the baby is Frank’s.”

  He checks his phone. “I wish she’d text me or something. I know she tried to fuck me over, but I feel bad for her. I’m glad she decided to be honest.” Then he looks up at me. “We can talk more about it later, Miss Procrastinator. Laptop. Now.”

  I grimace but pull out my computer and open it on the desk. As we wait for it to fire up, Dave touches me, running his hands from my hips, over my waist, up to my back and then my shoulders.

  “Hmm. Don’t stop doing that,” I beg.

  He presses his body against mine, looking over my shoulder at the screen. “Find your paper,” he murmurs, his lips on my neck.

  Paper? Right. I try to focus on the screen, but his hands find my hair. He pulls the pins out, one at a time. “You’re distracting me.”

  “Am I?” He moves his hands to the neck of my dress and unbuttons the single button in back. Then he finds the zipper.

  I flip around and try to kiss him, but he pulls away. “No. Find your paper. Open your email.”

  “You’re such a tease.”

  He twirls a finger, indicating for me to turn.

  I groan. The faster I find this paper, the faster I can get to touching him. I attach it to a new email.

  Dave finds the zipper again and slowly slides it down my back, inch-by-inch. His fingers trail my spine. My skin tingles. When his hands end up on my lower back, I wiggle back into him.

  “Did you send it yet?” he breathes into my neck.

  “Maybe I’ll do this instead.” I push the dress off my shoulders. It lands in a heap at my feet. I step out of it and turn to him. His gaze scans me in my strapless bra and barely there panties.

  He bites his lip as I wrap my arms around his neck. “I…I….”

  “Go sit on the bed,” I tell him. “Wait for me there.” He grabs my hips instead, and I brush his hands away. “Go.”

  With a little distance, I forget the fact that I’m in my underwear and lean over the laptop. Dave groans something from the bed, but I focus on my task.

  Dear Intern Coordinator: Attached please find my additional paper in hopes of moving my name up your waiting list for one of the internship positions this summer. I look forward to hearing from you.

  I electronically sign the email and hit send. Oh well. Can’t hurt. Spinning away from the desk, I find Dave naked on my bed. “Done.”

  “You did it, beautiful.” His eyes trail my body. “You’re my freaking dream girl.” He rolls onto his side and pats the bed next to him.

  “You did it too. You’re my freaking rock star.” I bend to take my shoes off.

  He holds out a hand. “No. Leave them on. I like them. The rest can come off.”

  “You missed me, I can tell,” I tease, not bothering to hide my grin.

  “Get naked and get that cute ass up here.”

  I take a moment to appreciate the scene before me. This hottie who wants me more than anything. Who writes songs for me. Who kisses me until I’m dizzy. As sexy as he is, when he smiles that grin, I want to play too. “You need to work on your romance. Your dip was mediocre at best. Now, ‘get your cute ass up here?’ I have a shelf of books—”

  He groans. “Please no. How about we write our own story instead? Starting now. Starting over.”

  With his eyes on me, I unclasp my bra and let it fall to the ground, covering my breasts with my hands. “Well, the books don’t usually start with the
sex.”

  His twinkly eyes scan my body. “Oh, well, ours definitely does. Is that okay?”

  I shrug. “Let’s shake up the genre a little.”

  He holds his arms wide, urging me to join him. “You got it, Squirrel Girl. Now tell me what I want to hear.”

  I lay my body over his. His warmth covers me when he rolls me over and settles between my legs. “I love you, David,” I whisper.

  Kissing me gently, he murmurs, “That’s music to my ears.” Then he rubs his nose against mine. “I love you too, Magdalena.”

  Epilogue

  Dave

  The tour bus comes to a stop at Penn Station, New York. “Good luck, Novak,” Chipper yells from his seat in the back. I grunt a goodbye as I stand and move toward the front. “Don’t forget to come back,” he adds. I wave him off. Of course I’ll come back. But first I have to go.

  Tuck and I jump off the bus as soon as the door opens, a backpack slung around each of our shoulders. We run through the building and look at the train schedule.

  The Randoms didn’t get the gig with The Dregs. But we did get a tour with a bunch of small, up-and-coming bands for summer concert venues up and down the Northeast. The tour manager had business in New York, providing us a few days in New York City. The fact that the time off is coming now, this week, is a gift from the universe.

  Tuck points to the train schedule on the wall, and we run to the platform. We jump on the train, as the doors are about to close, and head back to NJU and Sadie. When we finally get the car and hit the road, he drives like a maniac—until we hit bumper-to-bumper traffic.

  My jaw clenches, and my blood pressure goes through the roof. “Why is there so much fucking traffic in this state?”

  Tuck touches his phone, studying the screen. “We can take a different highway. We’ll make it. Don’t worry. These things never go off on time.” He moves to the right lane.

  “Thanks for driving me.”

  He glances at me. “I want to be there too. You need to be there for your girl.”

  I smile. “She is my girl, huh? Now we have to find you one.”

  Tuck reaches across the seat and pushes my shoulder. “No way. I’ll let you be the one living in your domestic bliss, cleaning up after random stray cats, dealing with EpiPens and fleas….”

  “Okay, tough guy.” I don’t tell Tuck that I’d be happy to do all those things over and over if it meant Maggie was by my side.

  We arrive at the state courthouse five minutes after Cameron Weston’s trial is about to take start. The prosecutor failed in having the case moved to federal court, so the death penalty is off the table. But because of the severity of the crime, the murder of Frank, the shooting of Ben, and the kidnapping of Pooja and Juliet, Cameron faces a life sentence plus. Ben, Juliet, and Pooja are scheduled to testify.

  When Maggie got the call that she’d have a spot in Olympia, she took it with the understanding she’d be able to fly back for the trial. Her advisors at the animal hospital approved her request without question. The entire nation was saddened about what happened at Sheridan. She’d texted me earlier that she made it to the courthouse. She thought I was in Boston for a gig tonight.

  Tuck drops me at the front door and says he’ll find parking then meet me inside. Media vans, reporters, and a crowd of people surround the front door, while state police stand guard. Since the shooting in November, every time Cameron is scheduled for court, the newspeople swarm.

  I push my way through the crowd to the doors of the courthouse. Just as I’m about to enter and wait in the long line to go through the metal detectors, a group of serious-looking people walks toward me.

  I recognize one of the people, a woman in a business suit holding a large file, as the prosecutor of Cameron’s case. She walks past the long line of people waiting to enter and exits right out the front doors with her entourage.

  I leave the line and follow her.

  “Dave?”

  The voice comes from behind me. It’s sweet and sad at the same time.

  I spin and turn to see Maggie, Juliet, Chase, Ben, Megan, Rocco, and Pooja. They’re dressed in business-type attire, but their faces are puffy. Pooja dabs at her eyes with a tissue.

  I move toward Maggie and slam into her, wrapping my arms around her, lifting her off the ground. She starts to cry. “What are you doing here?” The others greet me and then continue to walk out, following the prosecutor.

  “I wanted to be here for you.” I pull back to look at her face. Her makeup smears under her blue eyes, and I use my thumbs to wipe at them. Her hair is down, loose around a buttoned-down shirt. She must be in heels because she’s taller than I’m used to, but I don’t want to take my eyes off of hers to look. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

  She studies my face and then offers me a weak smile. “You’re so tan.”

  “Am I? I don’t know how. I’m living on a bus and sleeping all day.”

  “It’s been so long since we said goodbye at the airport.”

  God, yes. It feels like forever since I’ve held her. I squeeze her tighter. “It’s only been a month or so.” We’ve texted every night, but hearing her voice in person, touching her face, and seeing her, warms my heart. “I told myself I’d act cool, but Maggie, I miss you so much.”

  I pull her to me and tighten my grip. She sniffles into my neck.

  People rush past us outside to the media crowd. “Is the trial starting?”

  She sniffles again then leans close. Her eyes dart around as she whispers, “He took a plea.”

  I let go of her, the words not registering. “What do you mean?”

  She pulls me from the middle of the corridor to the wall and turns so her back is to the crowd mulling around. “The prosecutor’s having a press conference in five minutes. Cameron doesn’t want to go to trial. He’s taking a thirty-year, no parole sentence.”

  I don’t know whether that’s good or bad. “How do you feel about that?”

  She takes a deep breath. “I guess it’s good that nobody has to testify…”

  “But….”

  “It doesn’t seem like thirty years is a long enough time. I mean, he’ll only be in his fifties when he gets released. He’ll still get to have a life. And Frank…won’t. What if he goes after Pooja again?”

  I grab her hands. I don’t know what to say, so I say nothing. She smiles and touches my cheek. “Thanks for being here.”

  “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

  As we’re about to walk out to join the others and listen to the prosecutor’s press conference, my phone chimes.

  “Tuck,” I tell Maggie before I turn to the screen.

  It’s not Tuck though. It’s Amber.

  “Maybe she wants to know about the trial?” Amber’s been calling me with periodic updates about the baby. Her parents also took her to see Frank’s grandmother and tell her the news.

  I shake my head. “No. She doesn’t know I’m here.”

  Maggie and I look at each other. “The baby?” she asks. “Pick it up!”

  I answer the phone and say hi to Amber. She tells me she’s in labor in New York City. She’d traveled from Connecticut in an attempt to attend the trial, but her water broke. She’s going to deliver a few weeks early.

  Maggie’s eyes grow wide. “Oh my God! Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine but she’s alone. Her parents are on their way. What do I do?”

  “We’ll go,” Maggie says. “Of course.”

  Outside, we tell the others about Amber and the baby. For a second, they look around at each other, unable to process.

  Pooja speaks first, always the voice of reason. “Juliet, Chase, Ben, Megan, and I should stay here. The prosecutor may need us again, and we need to see this plea. Rocco, why don’t you bring Mrs. O’Leary, Maggie, and Dave to the hospital?”

  Rocco’s pale as a ghost with bags under his dark eyes. “I’m not leaving you, Pooja. Even if we’re not together, you need me.”

  After the
gala, Pooja and Rocco told the others that they’re taking a break. Maggie had already told me, but the others, especially Rocco, are having a hard time accepting it. Especially with the trial coming up, or rather now, the plea.

  Pooja touches his arm, which threatens to bust out of the sport jacket he’s wearing. “It’s okay,” she says, calmly. “It’s important for you to be there. And Frank’s grandma knows you and feels comfortable with you.” She nods toward Mrs. O’Leary, standing up front near the podium where the press waits for the prosecutor.

  Maggie grabs my hand as we wait for the others to decide what to do. Chase puts his arm around Juliet. “Do you know where you’re going? I know that hospital. Rocco could stay, and I could go—”

  Pooja cuts him off. “You stay here for Juliet. The press will be all over her. She’ll need you. Rocco should go.”

  Rocco purses his lips but doesn’t argue.

  She touches his hand. “You need to be there for the baby. You know I’ve been having thoughts about this.”

  Maggie told me that Pooja’s been hyperalert since Amber’s announcement.

  Rocco pulls Pooja into a hug. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

  “We’ll take good care of her. She’s not alone,” Meg says, wrapping an arm around Pooja.

  Rocco grunts an affirmative sound and turns to us. “Let’s go.”

  I shoot out a text to Tuck about the hospital. He curses me out, since he just found parking, but says he’ll meet us there.

  Rocco leads us through the crowd to Mrs. O’Leary. He tells her about Amber and offers her a ride. At the car, he’s careful with her, helping her settle into the passenger seat. “Stop fussing over me,” she says, swatting at his hands as he buckles her seatbelt. Then she touches his face. “Take me to my great-grandson.”

  Maggie and I slide into the backseat. I haven’t let go of her hand since we left the courthouse steps. It takes us an hour to go the few miles into the city and make our way into the hospital. I don’t let go of her, tracing my thumb around her palm, holding our hands against her thigh. I plan to bury my face in her hair the second we’re alone.