The real Grace? She wondered who the real Grace was.
“Brady has been through hell and he needs someone to love and care for him. I don’t know anything about the Templetons and…”
“They’re very nice people.” She wanted him to know that.
“So Beau tells me. They sound picture-perfect.” His eyes caught hers. “But there’s always something wrong with picture-perfect.”
“Are you saying…”
“A judge will decide,” he told her. “He will do what’s best for Brady and I will abide by that.”
She hated that he made her feel so guilty, so weak, and her fighting spirit surfaced. “You think you’re what’s best for Brady?”
His eyes darkened even more if that were possible. “Are you questioning my abilities as a father?”
“I’m questioning your abilities as a single father. Brady needs security and someone who is there for him twenty-four hours a day. Lisa and Keith can provide that. Can you?”
He watched her for a moment and she resisted the urge to fidget. “So you’re going to make a case of a married couple verses a single man?”
“I’m sorry, but yes.”
“You know, I kind of thought you might recuse yourself to preserve family harmony. Guess I was wrong, huh?” He placed his hat on his head. “I would prefer it if you and I had no contact. If you’re at Eli and Caroline’s, I won’t go over and I’d appreciate the same courtesy. But knowing you, Grace, I’m sure you’ll do whatever you please.” He turned and walked out.
Grace took a long breath and crumpled into her chair.
Nina rushed in. “Are you okay?”
Grace sat on the edge of her seat, her knees trembling. She would not let her distress show. “Yes. I’m fine.”
Nina glanced at the open doorway. “That man is drop-dead handsome…and angry. What a potent combination. Who is he?”
“Someone who thinks I’m the wicked witch of Austin.”
“You are one tough lady.”
Grace’s head jerked up. “Excuse me?”
“Oh…I didn’t mean anything by that.” Nina quickly backpedaled. “You’re managing partner of this firm and you have all these men under you, men who want your job. I personally don’t know how you do it. And still be so feminine.”
“Great save.”
Nina smiled slightly and looked down at her pad. “Your father is on line one. Aaron Canton wants to see you as soon as possible. He’s a little miffed that he didn’t get first chair in the Desmand case. And the Licensed Vocational Nurse is here to go over details for the day care.”
Business as usual, but she felt like running out the door and leaving it all behind. Her self-image was shattered and she wasn’t sure how to put the pieces back together.
With a deep sigh, she picked up the receiver. “Hello, Dad.”
“I’ve been waiting for ten minutes. I don’t have that kind of time to waste.”
She bit down on her lip. “Sorry. I was attending to something. Did you need anything important?”
“Of course or I wouldn’t waste my time on a call. What’s going on with you, Grace? Why are you personally handling a custody and adoption case?”
Her hand gripped the receiver. “Lisa and Keith are my friends and they asked for my help.” She felt as if she were sixteen and still had to answer to her father.
“What’s wrong with our family lawyers?”
“Nothing. I’m doing this as a personal favor.”
“You’re the Managing Senior Partner of the Whitten Law Firm and you shouldn’t take petty cases. You have competent lawyers to do that. But I don’t have time to get into it with you today. I wanted to let you know that I’m sending Derek Mann your way.”
“Who is he?”
“He’s a damn good lawyer. He’ll bring some clout to the firm.”
She bristled instantly. “The firm is one of the best in Texas. We have clout and prestige.” She’d worked most of her adult life to accomplish that.
“Sweetheart, don’t get upset. You’re doing a very good job. I’m proud of you.”
Then why are you constantly keeping tabs on me?
“I’m not looking for a new attorney,” she said.
“You’ll change your mind once you see his résumé. It’s coming to you FedEx and you should have it today.”
“Dad…”
“Just read it and we’ll talk again.”
“Dad.” She sucked air into her tight lungs, knowing it was useless to argue with him. “I really have to go. I’ll be on the lookout for the résumé.”
She hung up, unclenching her aching jaw. She’d reached her limit of how much she could hold inside. Grabbing her purse, she headed for the door.
As she reached Nina’s office, Nina was immediately on her feet.
“Tell Aaron I’ll talk to him tomorrow and please handle the nurse.”
“Yes, ma’am. Mr. Coffey wants to know if you’re free for dinner tonight.”
“No.” She walked toward the door, needing fresh air—needing freedom.
Byron caught her at the elevator. “Oh, Grace. I just left a note with your secretary.” Suave, silver-haired, Byron epitomized the sophisticated older male in his prime. He was fit, wealthy and the type of man she was sure would get her father’s stamp of approval, except he left her cold. And he was much too old for her. If she was in love with him, age wouldn’t matter. But she wasn’t.
She punched the elevator button. “Sorry, Byron, I’m not free tonight.”
“Stephen is sending Derek Mann’s résumé. I thought we could go over it together.”
Her father had already talked to Byron. She controlled her resentment as she stepped onto the elevator. “I’ll check with you in the morning.”
“Grace…” The doors swished closed, cutting off his words. She counted as she went down, down, down, not letting one thought cross her mind. Instead of going to the parking garage, she walked through the lobby and out the double glass doors embossed with the Whitten Law Firm logo in gold. As a child, she used to love to come here and see her father’s name on the door. One day she would work here. One day she’d make her father proud. One day had come, but nothing she ever did was good enough.
Nothing.
She started walking down the sidewalk. She had no idea where she was going—just away. Not being an exercise-type person, by the fourth block her feet were killing her. She took refuge on a bench and realized she was at a bus stop. Removing her shoes, she rubbed her sore feet.
What a picture she must make, she thought to herself. Her skirt had ridden up her thighs as she raised an ankle to rest on her knee, massaging the sole of her foot. This was definitely a Kodak moment—Grace Whitten not impeccable and in control.
She glanced down at the heels beside her and Jeremiah’s words came rushing back. You couldn’t even let your guard down long enough to enjoy the dance. You were afraid I’d step on your five-hundred-dollar shoes. My God, who pays five hundred dollars for a pair of shoes?
For years shoe shopping had been her passion. Now she felt a sense of guilt. Maybe shoes had replaced men in her life. No man had ever made her feel as good as slipping her feet into a pair of Manolo Blahnik shoes did. And if that wasn’t a depressing thought she didn’t know what was, except maybe Jeremiah’s words.
You continue to call me Jeremiah. No one calls me that. It’s like a slap in my face every time you do.
She really liked the name. She never dreamed he hated her using it. But then she should have picked up on that the first time she’d met him. Was she insensitive? Did she not care what he thought? She’d been groomed to be independent, assertive and to speak her mind. Her father had told her many times that’s what she had to do to make it in a man’s world.
Suddenly she didn’t like that person. She didn’t like her at all.
I would prefer it if you and I had no contact. If you’re at Eli and Caroline’s, I won’t go over and I’d appreciate the same courtesy. Bu
t knowing you, Grace, I’m sure you’ll do whatever you please.
Those words hurt a little more than the rest. In the years she’d known Jeremiah she’d never seen him so angry. Evidently, he’d wanted to tell her off for some time. And she’d been wondering why he’d never asked her out. It didn’t take a member of Mensa to figure that one out. Jeremiah didn’t like her in any shape, form or fashion. That truth was hard to take.
People from all walks of life began to gather at the bus stop: two nurses in scrubs, a black lady helping an older man, a Mexican woman with four children and three teenagers with iPod earbuds stuck in their ears.
The bus pulled up with a roar of wheels, the doors swung open and three people got off, then the others stepped onto the bus. The doors closed and the bus rolled into traffic leaving diesel fumes behind.
On the glass building across the street she saw a woman sitting on a bench. Her pulled-back hair gave her a pinched look. She seemed unhappy, alone. For a brief moment, Grace felt sorry for her.
Then she realized she was staring at herself.
Was that her?
She put a hand up to her hair. Yes, it was her. She kept staring at the woman as if she were a stranger. That uptight, stern woman wasn’t who she was inside. Or was it? That was how Jeremiah saw her, she kept thinking.
Jeremiah. Even after he’d told her how much he hated the name Jeremiah, she was still using it to herself. Was she that selfish or self-centered? A tear slipped from her eye and she quickly brushed it away. She wouldn’t cry in public.
Grabbing her shoes, she started the trek back to the Whitten Building not even pausing to put them back on. She met a law clerk and a secretary in the lobby. She said hello and kept walking toward the elevators. She could feel their eyes probing her back, but she didn’t care.
Within an hour it would be all over the Whitten Building that Grace Whitten was in the lobby without her shoes. By the end of the day the tidbit would find its way to her father. She didn’t care about that, either.
She took the elevator to the parking garage and in minutes she pulled into traffic on Congress Avenue. Above the rooftops the state capitol building gleamed in the distance. She headed toward West Austin and the gated apartment complex where she lived. She needed time alone. Time to come to grips with everything she was feeling.
Entering her apartment, she took a moment to stare at her immaculate white home. It had a sterile feel to it, just like her office. She never noticed that before.
In the bedroom, she threw her shoes on the bed and slipped out of her suit jacket. She folded it neatly, and then paused. She had to break the chains that kept her bound to this uptight, repressed person. The jacket fell to the floor; her skirt and blouse followed.
Opening a drawer, she found a cotton T-shirt and slipped it over her head. She took the pins out of her hair and shook it free. She walked toward the kitchen stoically, resolutely refusing to look back at the mess she’d made.
Chocolate—that’s what she needed. And lots of it.
She found vanilla ice cream in the freezer. She grabbed it and reached for chocolate syrup and a spoon, carrying everything to the living room. Sitting cross-legged on the white sofa, she cradled the half gallon of ice cream in her lap, squirting chocolate syrup all over it. Gulping down two spoonfuls, she paused to stare at herself in the pane of the French doors leading to her small patio.
She frowned. Why was she seeing herself everywhere today? The frown dissolved into a smile. This was her, the real Grace, disheveled blond hair around her shoulders and a chocolate-induced gleam in her eye. She didn’t look excitedly happy, but she looked at peace with herself. To fight her deep-seated attitudes she had to keep this person alive. There was something cathartic about letting go, and it was something she intended to do more often.
And it had nothing to do with Jeremiah Tucker.
Or what he thought of her.
CHAPTER FIVE
TUCK SAT AT HIS KITCHEN TABLE wondering what had gotten into him today. He hadn’t meant to say all those things to Grace. It wasn’t like him to be that cruel and it bothered him. He’d stepped over the line so far he wondered if he could salvage anything of their relationship—whatever that was. For Eli, he had to try.
They were part of the same family and families worked out their problems. That’s what Ma and Pa had taught him. Tomorrow he’d apologize or he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.
He ran his hands over his face, seeing the hurt in Grace’s eyes. He’d never intentionally hurt anyone in his life and he didn’t like the feeling. But for a brief moment it had angered him that Grace had taken the case. She didn’t take child custody cases. She only worked on the high-profile ones, so why had she gone out of her way to take Brady’s case? There was only one clear answer to him—because Tuck was involved. That made sense to him at the time, but now he felt like a fool. Grace wouldn’t go out of her way to intentionally hurt him. He was sure it was a business decision.
He sighed with regret as he remembered some of her words. She hadn’t known he was involved in the case. When she’d said that, he should have backed out of the room and left. But he hadn’t. For some reason he wasn’t sure about, he’d wanted to wring her pretty neck and words came tumbling out. Now he felt rotten about the whole thing.
But he wasn’t giving up his fight for Brady. That was one thing he was very resolute about.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a movement and saw Eli and Caroline pushing a stroller up his driveway. They must have walked down the blacktop road. He quickly opened the screen door and Eli rolled a sleeping Jesse inside.
Caroline paused to kiss Tuck’s cheek. With blond hair and green eyes, Caroline favored Grace a great deal. But Caroline was soft, caring and impulsive while Grace was hard, driven and methodical.
“Jesse’s having a bad day,” Caroline whispered. “He fell asleep when we got halfway here. Hopefully, he’ll sleep for a while.”
Eli pushed Jesse into the den and turned the stroller to face them, then went to get a beer out of the refrigerator. “Anybody want a beer?”
Caroline sighed, taking a seat at the table. “It’s a good thing you’re not married, Tuck. Eli treats your place like home.”
“I’ll have a beer,” Tuck replied. “And this is Eli’s home.”
“See, he doesn’t mind.” Eli placed a beer in front of Tuck and handed his wife a bottle of water.
Caroline looked at Eli, one eyebrow raised. “You just assumed I wanted water.”
Eli removed his hat and sank into a chair. “You’re nursing. That’s all you drink is water and milk. And I was certain you didn’t want milk.”
“But you could have asked.”
“Okay. What would you like to drink, Caroline, love of my life?”
“Water. Thank you for asking.”
Eli rolled his eyes. “I’ll never understand women.”
Caroline laughed and their words faded away as Tuck’s inner thoughts intruded. Understanding was about being sensitive to someone else’s needs and feelings. He’d completely blown that concept today with Grace. He hadn’t given her a chance to explain her side of the situation.
“Tuck. Tuck?”
He jerked up his head to stare at Caroline. “Grace didn’t know you’d filed for custody of Brady Harper. She feels bad about it.”
He shifted uneasily. “It’s a difficult situation.”
“Have you thought about how you’re going to handle a baby with your job?”
“I’m working on it.” He studied his beer can.
“You know I love you dearly,” Caroline said. “You’re our best friend. You’re always there when we need anything. I’ve always admired your desire to help children, but have you thought that Brady might need a mother?”
Tuck knew the big but was coming. Caroline was known for speaking her mind. This one caught him a little off guard, though.
“Evidently you do.”
“Well, yes.” Caroline glanced
at Eli, then back to Tuck. “After what Brady’s been through, he needs someone to love and care for him full-time.”
“You don’t think I can do that?”
Caroline got up and wrapped her arms around Tuck’s neck. “I think you’re a wonderful person, but you have a full-time job and Brady needs to build trust again in someone he knows will be there for him. He needs a mother.”
“A lot of women work and leave their babies in day care,” Eli spoke up. “And stop hanging on Tuck.”
Caroline gave Eli a sharp glance and threw up her hands. “You guys are missing the point. Brady’s mother has let him down terribly. He now needs to build a nurturing relationship with a woman. He needs a mother.”
“Tuck can give him everything a woman can,” Eli stated stubbornly.
“No, he can’t,” Caroline insisted just as stubbornly. “The first bond a baby makes in life is with his mother. Brady needs to form that bond again. As I said, it’s all about nurturing and women do that. Men don’t.”
“Jesse does just fine with me,” Eli pointed out.
“Well, Eli, Jesse will need nursing as soon as he wakes up. Let’s see if you can do that.”
“I can give him a bottle, Caroline.”
Caroline placed her hands on her hips. “It’s not so much about the nourishment received while nursing but the act itself that encourages the bond. It’s just not the same holding a baby and giving it a bottle.”
“A lot of women choose not to breast-feed. Are you saying they’re not nurturers?”
Caroline’s green eyes flared. “No, I’m not. There’s more to nurturing than breast-feeding.”
“Since Brady’s not breast-feeding, I…”
“Time-out.” Tuck did the time-out sign with his hands. “I don’t want you two arguing about this.”
A wail pierced the long pause and Caroline went to Jesse, lifting him out of the stroller. “Hey, sweetie.” She kissed him. “Are you hungry?” Caroline glanced at Eli. “Would you like to try to nurse him?”
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