Illegally Wedded

by Jennifer Griffith

  Eisenhower went on as if Zach hadn’t spoken. “Meanwhile, it’s plain as day that the two of you, while lusty as can be, have nothing in common and only married so that you could vie for the partnership. I’ll be happy to let Crockett know so, too, if you bother showing up for your promotion interview on Friday.”

  How did Eisenhower know Zach had an interview scheduled on Friday? His disbelief must have shown on his face because Eisenhower gave a haughty laugh.

  “Just so you know, mine is Thursday afternoon. They chose to speak with me first. By the time I’m done in there, the other candidates’ interviews will all just be a formality. I’ve outmaneuvered you in every way, Travis. It’s over.”

  And Zach had considered the guy a friend. How naïve of him. Friendships weren’t possible in a cutthroat environment like a self-important law firm.

  “What you don’t know is that going last is actually an advantage. Once they interview me, they will have forgotten about you, Eisenhower.” Zach would never call him by that imaginary name. “I’m not missing my interview, no matter how you threaten. Don’t forget, we witnessed your marriage—and you witnessed mine. Your name is on the line, dude. You swore that you saw us legally wed, and on the same day as your own nuptials. Your argument is moot.”

  “It’s about mens rea, Zach. The motive behind the action.”

  Mens rea, shmens rea. Whether or not the initial action of marrying Piper had constituted an intention to deceive as well as a knowledge of wrongdoing, Zach now intended on keeping Piper out of danger and in his own life.

  Whatever it might take.

  Piper came and slid her hand into his. “Are you available? It seems you and I have some getting-to-know one another still to do.”

  Piper’s touch, plus the husky tone in her voice set his blood afire. Eisenhower’s face contorted, as if he’d married someone he wouldn’t like to get to know and jealousy alone inhabited him.

  “I’d like that, Piper. Very much.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. The scent of her shampoo filling his head and spiriting it away. “Shall we go and get started on that?”

  Her eyes widened, as if she were afraid for a moment, and then she nodded, “Let’s.”

  A storm of anticipation rolled into his chest. She meant it, he could tell by the look in her eye. Finally!

  He couldn’t get out to his truck fast enough, Piper on his arm.

  Did she really mean it, or was she just saying it for Eisenhower’s benefit? Zach appreciated it immensely either way, but he’d be over the moon if she was ready to make their union a union indeed—and just in time for their hearing on Friday with Agent Valentine, who had already hinted this would be a key component of the ICE case against Piper’s stay in the U.S. His blood pumped, and yet he wasn’t sure whether or not he dared ask the most pertinent quiz question of the night.

  “I really want to get to know you better, Piper.” Zach reached over and put a hand on her shoulder as they left the Crocketts’ posh neighborhood. Her skin was warm beneath his hand. She really was beautiful—in every way. “Everything I already know, I like.”

  A sudden emotion gripped him. I want to renegotiate the terms of the business deal, erase the ending date, try this for real.

  The thought made him swerve.

  “Whoa.”

  “Skunk,” he fibbed. “You don’t want to hit one. They’re out in droves on nights like this.”

  “Uh-huh.” Piper turned her chin toward where his hand rested on her shoulder and placed a soft kiss on it. “Take me home safely, Zach. I really want to get there.”

  Oh, dear mercies above, she must mean what he thought she meant. His foot pressed the gas pedal reflexively, and the truck sped along the empty road.

  “I want to get you there, Piper.”

  “But safely, Zach.”

  “Of course.”

  The subtext was killing him with its heat. He might spontaneously ignite. He’d better change the subject.

  “What did you think of my company party?”

  “I think…” Piper paused a while, and Zach resisted the urge to fill in the blank with the words they’re truly bizarre in the things they put people through, or they’re a bunch of wacked out weirdoes, like Zach had been thinking all night. But then Piper spoke, saying, “I think they value marriage.”

  “Oh.” He hadn’t expected that. It jarred him. Up to now, he’d put the CBH secret married people club in a category of random hoops to jump through that they’d set up, maybe like the bar exam. Every lawyer knew the bar exam had little to do with the ultimate daily grind of the practice of law, and that scoring well on it was more a rite of passage—something others had done first, so the newbies must as well.

  “And,” Piper continued, “it seems like they place a high value on love.”

  Love! What law firm in the world…?

  Before Zach could refute or respond, though, Piper’s phone rang loudly, breaking into his thoughts. She bent forward to dig in her purse at her feet, Zach’s hand sliding from her shoulder as she did so, a sudden coldness hitting his hand.

  “It’s Birdie.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “My neighbor. You remember, who took our photos. She loaned me the dress.”

  “Right. Tell her thank you. You looked stunning in it.”

  Zach listened as Piper took the call, thanked Birdie for her help, offered to repay her for the prints of their wedding photos, which now hung in their house in profusion, and laughed at small talk, until Piper gasped, and then the silence hit. The atmosphere in the truck turned cold.

  He wished he could hear the other side of the conversation. Something bad was about to happen, Zach could feel it, like ice water in his veins.

  “Uh-huh. It’s great,” Piper finally said. “I’m so happy for you. I wish, wish, wish I could.”

  More silence, during which Zach’s road stretched out in front of him like a dark ribbon.

  “Well, you’re right; it’s once in a lifetime.” A pause. “Oh, the rental car. I see. Right.” A sudden drop of Piper’s shoulders made Zach’s attention focus. She wasn’t leaving town, was she?

  “You’re sure we can be back by time to cook Friday?”

  She was. She absolutely was leaving town. Zach’s senses all went on high alert.

  “No,” Piper said, “I’d never back out on you. You’ve done so much for me. I’m honored. Sure. Eleven a.m. tomorrow. I’ll just get all the food prepared and put it on autopilot. It’ll be fine. Sure. Yeah, I’m sure.” Piper hung up and leaned her head against the far window with a heavy sigh.

  “Is something wrong? Your friend isn’t sick, is she?” Zach knew this wasn’t the case, but he had to say something benign to keep his taut emotions in check. She’d better not be leaving. The trial was less than two days away.

  “Unless you count obsession with a rock star a sickness.” Piper sighed again.

  “Rock star obsession? What are you talking about?” Zach didn’t follow. From what he recalled, Birdie had to be nearly eighty years old, if not older. Not exactly the target demographic for Tiger Beat. “Sorry for listening in, but it sounded like you’re meeting her tomorrow instead of cooking at Du Jour. That is serious business.”

  “It is. I have to leave town tomorrow with her. She got VIP seats to a Neil Diamond concert.”

  Zach remembered seeing Piper’s Neil Diamond concert t-shirt that night last week when she’d slept in his arms on the sinking air mattress.

  “Don’t tell me—”

  “I promised.” Piper suddenly sounded tired. “She never expected to win the tickets when she called in. Winning them was a fluke, especially since they included the transferrable airfare. It was some online radio station deal.”

  Airfare! Where exactly was this show? Not Texas? Before Zach could ask, Piper went on to explain further.

  “He’s doing exactly one show, not even a reunion tour. It’s some kind of charity event and it’s tomorrow night, and maybe no other shows ever
again after that because, who knows? He’s not much younger than Birdie.”

  “Yeah, but—” All kinds of sirens went off in Zach’s mind about this.

  “It was on her bucket list of her life, to see him live and in concert. Not only will she see the show, she’ll potentially get to meet him or have him sign an autograph. It wouldn’t just make her day, it would make her life.”

  “That’s all well and good, but does it mean you have to go? We have court the next day. It’s a critical time.”

  “She needs me. Without knowing how inconvenient it might be, I gave her my word that in exchange for a loan of her wedding dress, I’d go with her to a Neil Diamond concert if she ever got tickets. She said the prize involved airfare, and it’s short notice. But she promised we’d be back in time for me to cook on Friday. Which means I’d be back in plenty of time for court in the afternoon.”

  Zach didn’t like it. “Where exactly is this concert?”

  “Seattle.”

  “Washington?” Zach’s chest lurched. “That’s a six hour flight.”

  “Hence the need to leave Du Jour early tomorrow. I’m going to have to hit the grocery store right now and fill up the crock pots.” She started thinking aloud, Zach could tell. “If I cook several pork roasts overnight, it will make tomorrow all that much easier for pulled barbecued pork.” She turned to him now, as if just remembering something important. “You’ll take good care of Teacup while I’m gone, right?”

  Well, Teacup was important. But still, even the prospect of pulled pork didn’t dial down the needle on Zach’s concern-o-meter. Seattle was a long trip. Even if Piper and Birdie turned around and flew right back without spending the night after the show, she’d be cutting it close for work on Friday morning, and if even the slightest flight delay took place, it would not only mess up her work at Du Jour for Friday, it could endanger the court appearance.

  Piper’s whole future rode on whether she made it to court.

  “I don’t want you to go.”

  “That’s sweet of you,” Piper said in response, clearly misunderstanding his meaning. “But I gave my word. I have to keep it.”

  “No, I’m serious. I do not want you to go. I think it’s a bad idea.”

  Piper pulled upward. “You’re being serious, not sweet.”

  “Exactly. Friday is vital. You can’t endanger that. Not even for Neil Diamond.”

  “Don’t bag on Neil.”

  “I’m not bagging on Neil.” Zach didn’t want to make her angry, but somehow, he was anyway. “The court case is Friday. You know that.”

  “And the concert is Thursday. Birdie—she’s got no one else, and I promised. Promised, Zach. It’s crazy, I know. Completely.”

  “It’s beyond crazy. Everything is on the line.”

  “Wait. Are you forbidding me to go?” Piper was digging in her heels on this. If he pushed it, he wouldn’t win either way.

  “Of course not, but I’m advising you to stay here.”

  “Is that as my attorney or as my husband?”

  Zach thought a moment. “Both, I guess.”

  Piper was silent, and the truck arrived at their house. “I have to go buy the roasts for tomorrow.”

  “So you’re staying?”

  Piper paused a while at the door, her fingers resting on the handle.

  “I have to go with her, Zach. Her driver’s license is provisional. She’s only allowed to drive during the day. Someone else has to drive the rental car, and she already put my name on both the plane tickets and the rental car agreement.”

  That did lock Piper in, but it still didn’t assuage Zach.

  “It’s not transferrable. If I don’t go with her, she can’t go. This is her lifelong dream. It’s impossible to express how important it is to her.” She grimaced. “And how important Birdie is to me. She lent me her wedding dress, Zach. She’s like a mom to me. I can’t let her down.”

  Zach hated all these arguments, as he had nothing strong enough to combat them. All he could say was, “I have a bad feeling about it.”

  Piper looked at the floor. “Honestly, so do I, but I don’t have any choice. Thanks for a fun evening. I’m sorry I ruined your chance at the promotion by failing the spouses quiz. I really am.”

  And she slid off the seat and out of the truck.

  Zach watched as she started her car and drove off in the direction of the all-night grocery store, something making his heart squeeze in a pain he’d never felt before.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Piper wrung her hands as she tugged the strands of pressure-cooked meat into shreds. The four slow cookers she’d filled and cooked in hadn’t produced enough meat for the crowds Du Jour was garnering these days, so she’d done several more batches in the pressure cookers. On the stove bubbled the barbecue sauce she’d spent all night concocting, and the home-baked rolls cooled under a cheese cloth to keep the moisture in.

  Teacup must miss her terribly today. Piper’s heart ached.

  This was terrible timing. Piper couldn’t believe Birdie was asking her to do this—not this week, not with so much on the line. Sure, she’d promised a swift return in the wee hours of tomorrow morning, but Piper already had spent one sleepless night working up the meal for Du Jour today. How she’d make it to the concert, fly back, cook again, and come off as remotely sane in court tomorrow, she had no idea. That Agent Valentine would tear Piper to shreds, just like Piper was shredding this pork roast.

  In spite of his strong opposition to her choice, Zach hadn’t forbid her from going, at least. When he’d been trying to talk her out of it last night, his fervor on the topic gave her a flashback of when she’d dated the Texas Ranger. Mike had put his foot down all the time about places Piper could or couldn’t go, times he wanted her to be available, and so on. It had flattered her at first, but quickly morphed into frightening her. Zach had done nothing like that, and she could see that now. He’d just voiced a strong opinion that he had a bad feeling about her going, the same bad feeling that had surged inside her, and dogged her yet today.

  She owed him an apology.

  She’d have to give it to him when she came back. If she went to him and apologized in person, she might let him talk her out of going. Seattle! Seriously? Sure, it was probably great this time of year on the Pacific coast, far from the blast furnace of San Antonio, but man. The timing.

  She picked up her phone to text Birdie and tell her to ask a different friend, but there, on her phone was a selfie Birdie had taken with a life-size cutout standee of Neil Diamond. Where she’d gotten it, Piper couldn’t imagine, but the accompanying text dripped with enthusiasm.

  Could Piper throw cold water on a flame so sweet as Birdie’s, when the woman had been so kind to Piper, and when Piper had promised?

  No. She couldn’t.

  Mitzi came in the back door, a grim look on her face.

  “Whoa. You’re done early with prep.” Mitzi glanced at her watch. “It’s only nine.”

  “I know, uh…” Piper was about to explain, but she suddenly noticed red-rimmed eyes and heard an errant sniffle. Mitzi had been crying. Mitzi never cried. “Hey, are you okay?”

  Mitzi nodded and then suddenly shook her head, swiping at her nose and cheeks. “We didn’t get it.”

  “Get what?” As soon as the question left Piper’s mouth, she knew: the Texas Star. “Oh, no. You’re kidding. No. Oh, no.”

  But her tacos had been perfect. The restaurant had been slammed. The customers had raved. It was one of those days when their social media page had blown up with comments of ecstasy about lunch.

  Piper took Mitzi in her arms, and patted her back. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It wasn’t about your food. They loved that.”

  Piper pulled back. “If it wasn’t about the food, then, what?” What other criteria did they base a food award on at Texas Foodie Magazine?

  “A technicality. It wasn’t our restaurant, it was hinted that the judge had colluded with us, and we hav
e been disqualified.”

  “Disqualified!”

  “As in…forever.”

  Piper’s throat dropped into her stomach, which fell into her legs. She sank onto the chair at the little table beneath the window. Collusion. How would they even collude? They knew no one to collude with. Her head swirled with questions.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Ignatius.”

  “Uh, what about him?”

  Down Mitzi’s freckled cheek tracked a huge tear. It fell onto her shirt and left a wet splotch, darkening the green shade of the fabric. “He was the food critic. From Texas Foodie Magazine. That was why he couldn’t tell me what his job was.”

  Piper’s throat closed up. All she could do was stand and blink and wait for Mitzi to elaborate.

  “He’s been a critic for them ever since the Texas Star award began. In fact, it was his brainchild. As a young kid, he started working in kitchens as a dishwasher and worked his way up to pastry chef then chef. He had a gift, and he was doing well until he got in a car wreck that left him in traction for months and then made it so he couldn’t cook anymore.”

  “How sad.” Piper couldn’t imagine how her life would be if she couldn’t create with food and share it with someone who appreciated it. “Tragic.”

  “Completely. But he wasn’t the type to give up, so he contacted a chef friend who hooked him up with the critic’s job at Texas Foodie. After just a few months there, he floated the idea of rewarding new restaurants and young chefs the Texas Star because he understood firsthand how hard it was to break into the business.” Mitzi’s eyes shone when she talked about him. No question, he’d captured her. “The mistake came when he met me.”

  “Meeting you was great, though.” Piper had never seen Mitzi so happy. “You fit so well together. I haven’t met him, but you’ve been glowing.”

  “Right? But he’d already arranged with the magazine to come in and review Du Jour for the Texas Star, long before he realized I was the co-owner. He’d eaten here a dozen times and loved it.”

  “Why didn’t he review it right away, then?” Oh, right. Piper remembered. “The one-year mark rule.”