"Damn it, Andi. Please. Tell me what's going on!"
Her head snapped up, and she took several heavy, almost painful sounding breaths. "We're over, David." The last words came out so strangled he barely heard them... but their meaning was far too clear. "We have to be."
He couldn't say anything, his ability to ask simple questions like "What?" and "Why?" suddenly gone. David's arms dropped to his side and he stared at her for several moments. She looked away and ran the back of her hand across her streaked face, still using the other hand to brace herself. Half a dozen scenarios ran through his head that could explain this, the foremost being his late night trip to Canter's with Rachel. Could someone have told Andi and she misunderstood? Did she think he'd gone to Rachel because--
He shook the idea off immediately. For her to do that would be breaking her own cardinal rule -- assuming anything without just asking. She wouldn't end what they had over a suspicion. Over a story in a paper or some picture. She might ask, but she wouldn't jump to such a drastic conclusion that it would drive her to this.
Finally he found his voice, but even then it was hard to force the word out. "Why..."
She laughed again, the same stilted, grim laugh she'd used since arriving. Andi tipped her head back, looking toward the ceiling and then off to the side, only meeting his eyes for the briefest of moments. This time when she drew in a breath, he watched the transformation he'd seen before as she took control and pushed down whatever emotion she didn't want him to see. She'd done it when he kissed her on set, she'd done it when Bonehead pushed too far. Andrea Parker had somewhere along the lines learned to master the art of smothering her emotions until she could hide them behind a thinly veiled mask.
But today was different. The mask had slipped before she ever arrived. And she was having a hell of a time putting it back in place.
"I ran through no less than a dozen ways to answer that question on my way here. I thought of every bad -- and good -- novel I'd ever read when the heroine had to end it and had to come up with any reason other than the truth."
"You can't tell me the truth?"
"The truth is too pathetic," she tossed over her shoulder as she moved away from the couch to pace the distance between the sitting area and the staircase leading down to the guest bedroom level. She shrugged and shook her head, her red curls bouncing. "I read this story once about a woman who told the man she loved that she didn't love him at all. That even though they'd made love, and she'd told him how she felt -- she lied and said it wasn't true. And he believed her. I never understood how he could just believe her. If he loved her as much as he said, how could she have given so much to him to have him just swallow a pile of horse pucky like that."
She rambled, talking so fast that the words bunched up into one long word. Andi hadn't been like this around him in weeks, so nervous or wound up she couldn't keep her own voice calm.
"Why did she lie?" he asked, hoping her ramblings would eventually lead to the truth.
"Oh, well, in this particular case she was being stalked by a killer and she ended it to protect him. Which is the epitome of TSTL. Here's a hint to women... if you're being stalked, tell the man you love. Especially when he's ex-FBI and has an arsenal the size of Texas."
"I'm going to assume you're not being stalked by a killer." He was doing his best to keep his voice level, and to not push her, no matter how much he wanted to get to the point.
"No," she said with a vehement shake of her head. "I'm also not dying of a rare disease, I'm not part of the Witness Protection program, and I haven't decided I'm just too much of a screw-up to allow you to love me. Although, that last one does seem like a viable option."
He wondered if her fast-talking was the only way -- in this case -- that she managed to keep herself talking at all. "None of that answers my question."
She walked, her arms wrapped over her body. Andi kept her face down, and her hair fell forward to hide her eyes. David shifted his jaw, turning his focus toward the far corner of the room because watching her tear herself apart was too much. The silence was like a pressure cooker, any minute the top would blow. David drew in a long, slow breath through his nose before looking at her again. It hurt to clear his throat, but he managed to force his next question.
"Last night, you told me you love me." When he said 'you love me', her eyes slid closed and her nervous pacing stopped with a jerk. David swallowed hard. "Are you not sure? Has that changed? Or have you changed your mind?"
She spun around then, her eyes wide as she shook her head. "No! No..." Her lips twisted into a frown that she tried to make into a smile, and failed miserable. Andi tilted her head, looking at him. "I love you." She sucked in a breath, saying the words again as she let it go. "Don't -- Please don't -- Just know I love you."
"I love you, too."
His admission almost seemed to hurt her. She pressed her hands against her stomach and bowed her head, drawing in a shaky breath. After a moment, she raised her head again, tears glistening in her eyes that hadn't yet fallen. "I almost wish you didn't." She clenched her fists and dropped her hands to her side, squaring her shoulders. One more time, she tried to rein it all in.
The words stung more than he wanted to admit.
"Why don't you want me to love you?"
Andi raised a trembling arm and pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. If he had to bet, he figured she was minutes away from another migraine... if she wasn't already there and pushing through it, just like she had that night weeks before.
She dropped her hand, bracing it against one of his shelves to keep on her feet. "For someone who lives by the word, I'm doing an terrible job," she half mumbled to herself. "Give me a computer and I could be out of your life in five paragraphs or less."
"Andi--"
She snapped her attention to him. "It's a sick paradox," she said, cutting him off. "I want you to love me... but this... this would have been so much easier if..." Andi closed her eyes and tilted her head, her hand fluttering in the air is if she needed to wave off her thought.
Her voice was thick, choked by the tears he knew she held back. "I've been expecting this day almost since the beginning. But, I figured you'd be the one telling me it was over and we were through. I didn't think I would have to be the one to find the words." When she met his eyes, her gaze softened for just a moment and the smile looked almost genuine and complete. "Then you told me you loved me, and for a few hours I thought this might actually be..." Andi couldn't finish. She pressed her lips together and swallowed hard, shaking her head.
She'd completed another circuit of the living room and returned to the couch. Andi sank onto the arm, weary fatigue clearly dragging her down. David took a hesitant step forward, and she didn't jerk or move away. He forced himself to remember what she'd said in her trailer weeks before. If she moved away it was because she had to think. He had to let her think... so he could convince her not to go.
"If you love me, why are you leaving me?" he asked in a gentle voice. "The real reason, not some badly written romance novel."
She almost smiled. "I'm rubbing off on you."
David ticked his head to the side. "I hope so."
Her strong façade slipped for a moment and her eyes filled with tears, but she huffed a breath and looked away. David waited, his hands pushed hard into his pockets just so he wouldn't be tempted to reach for her and make her skitter away again. Andi swallowed, rolled her damp lips together, and looked at him again. "I can't lose my son."
Her words sucker punched him, but David clenched his jaw to keep what he hoped was a calm expression. In an instant, he knew exactly who was behind her tears and her decision -- Larry Bonherre -- he just needed to wait out the details.
"As much as I love you, I can't lose my son," she said again, maybe trying to convince herself that the two facts had to be exclusive of each other.
"Sweetheart, you're not going to lose Jake."
She crumpled like a rag doll, her hands covering her face
as a wrenching sob ripped through her. David lunged forward and caught her before she hit the hardwood floor, lifting her in his arms to set her on the couch. Andi curled forward, her face still covered, rocking as she cried. He knelt in front of her, lost as to what to say or do because he still didn't know what he was dealing with -- other than the fact that Andi's heart was obviously being ripped out and he had absolutely no doubt who was doing the ripping. He tried to stroke her hair, touch her face, to get her attention on him but as soon as his fingers touched her, she tried to scramble away. This time, David didn't let her go. He knelt right in front of her, holding her hands in her lap.
"Andi, sweetheart, look at me." She shook her head and tried to free her hands.
"Don't touch me. I can't -- if you touch me, I won't -- I-I--"
"You won't be able to leave me? Then damn it, I'm never letting go." He heard the edge in his own voice, and hated that it made her entire body tense beneath his touch, but he wanted to shout 'No!' and this was the most restraint he could manage.
She wouldn't look at him until he took her face in his hands and made her meet his gaze. David stroked her cheeks, waiting for the moment when her eyes shifted to him and her shoulders relaxed a small degree. "Andi, I love you. You may have been waiting for the day we ended, but I've been waiting for the day we begin."
She sucked in a shaky breath. Her cheeks were slick beneath his touch, and her glasses spotted by her tears. David risked letting her go long enough to slip the glasses off and set them on the table behind him.
Andi clenched her hands in her lap, but when he touched the tight fists she immediately gripped his fingers. "He's going to take Jake if I don't..." Andi hesitated and swallowed, rubbing her lips together.
David hissed through his teeth. "If you don't what, Andi."
"If I don't take you out of Jake's life -- if I don't end our relationship -- he's going to file for amended custody and says he'll take Jake away from me."
"On what grounds?"
Andi shook her head. "It doesn't matter," she practically screamed with frustration. "He'll make them up. He'll make them stick."
He almost laughed at Bonherre's audacity. "Sweetheart, I don't care who he thinks he is, he can't just take your son away from you. You're his mother--"
"I can't risk it."
"Andi--"
"No," she said firmly. Andi pulled her hands free of his and scooted a couple inches away, but not so far away that she left his reach. She snuffled her nose and let out a shaky breath. "When we divorced, my attorney told me I was damn lucky to get custody. Lawrence was gracious in not fighting for Jake, because he could have and won."
"On what grounds?"
She hung her head, staring at her hands. "I left him and took our son, she said that didn't look good. I had no guaranteed form of income beyond my royalties, and I shared a home with Maggie."
David squinted, shaking his head. "What kind of moron lawyer did you have?"
Andi's laugh returned to the satirical chuckle. "The kind I could afford. I'd been here a year, and I'd been living off the advance Maggie negotiated for me for Rise of Dawn. It wasn't much, but living with her, we could do it."
David shifted closer to her again, kneeling in front of her legs. "Regardless of what she said then, things are different now. Andi..." She kept her attention on her hands, worrying the hem of her sweater between shaking fingers. "Andi, sweetheart, look at me."
She swallowed and blinked, heavy tears rolling down her flushed cheeks. But she did as he asked and raised her head, looking him in the eyes.
"Things are different now," he said gently, offering the best smile he could manage. "Sweetheart, I don't know the exact numbers but I'm willing to bet you made more money off the royalties and movie deal for Rise of Dawn than Bonehead has made in ten years. Am I right?"
She ticked her head to the side with a single-shoulder shrug. Her smile was anything but happy, edged with cynicism. "It's not my ability to take care of Jake financially that's being contested."
"He's just--" David huffed and dipped his head for a moment. "Okay, you want to talk bad storylines? This is the old 'If I can't have you, no one else will either' scenario."
"I know what it is," she said in almost a whisper. "I know exactly what it is. But that doesn't change the fact that if I haven't ended my relationship with you -- if you're not out of Jake's life -- by Monday morning, he's filing a petition with the California Family Court to take Jake away from me."
Her voice was calm, too calm. She teetered between hysteria and this robotic monotone, and David wondered just how long it would be before she cracked. Andi tried so damn hard not to show weakness she had no idea that she was the strongest woman he'd ever known. It was her recovery from those moments when it just became too much that showed her strength. She just didn't see it in herself.
"You're letting him win."
"Then so be it," she said softly, her lower lip trembling. The seesaw started its slow tip in the other direction. "It doesn't matter what he does to me, as long as I have Jake."
"Your happiness doesn't matter?"
"I can't lose Jake," was her only answer.
"I can't lose you." As soon as the words left his lips, he was sorry. He refused to turn this around to him -- but, damn it! -- he couldn't lose her! She closed her eyes, fresh tears squeezing free. David drew in a long breath and sat back on his calves, dropping his head into her lap. He held her hands in his, resting his forehead on their joined fingers.
"I'm sorry." He raised his head and sniffed, not surprised or ashamed of the tears burning in his own eyes. "But, sweetheart..." David shook his head, not knowing what else to say. He couldn't promise her she wouldn't lose Jake. He didn't know. He rose up on his knees again to be eye level with her, taking her face in his palms. "I can't just let you go. I can't."
"Do you think this is easy for me?" she cried. "This is killing me!"
"I know. I know." David rose on his knees and urged her toward him so he could kiss her brow. She leaned into his lips, her body trembling. "I know, sweetheart." He squeezed his eyes shut, tamping down the raw panic in the back of his throat -- and that's what it was -- panic at the thought of losing her.
He leaned back, but didn't take his hands from her face. Her skin was hot and flushed, damp and clammy from her tears. "Okay, listen to me. He said Monday morning?"
She nodded in his hold. "Monday he'll file, but he gave me until tomorrow to decide.'
"Give me until tomorrow."
"To do what?"
"To help you decide." David stood and went around the couch to the desk he had tucked into an alcove amongst the bookshelves. He opened a drawer and took out his address book, flipping to the number for Joe Canning, Attorney at Law. "To give you all the facts and all the truths." He retrieved the phone from the kitchen and dialed, listening to the ringtone as he returned to the couch. David sat beside her and took her hand, holding it against his leg as he waited for an answer. He didn't bother with the office line, going straight for Joe's house. "All you've heard is what Larry wants you to hear."
"Hello?" answered a woman after three rings.
"Hey, Barbara. It's David Bishop."
"Hi, David," Joe's wife said, the smile in her voice carrying through the phone lines. "Hang on a second, I'll get Joe."
Andi watched him, curiosity digging deep lines between her eyebrows. She swiped at her wet cheeks with her free hand, snuffling. He glanced around to see if there were any tissues within reach, but there weren't and he wasn't ready to let go of her hand quite yet.
"Who are you calling?" she asked, her eyes shifting as she looked at his face.
"Joe Canning. My lawyer."
"David--"
He leaned over and kissed her, finding a small degree of victory in the fact that she didn't move away. Her lips were wet and tasted of her tears, and he swore to himself that eventually Bonherre would pay for every tear he made her cry. A shuffling sound on the line preceded Joe's booming
voice.
"David, how the hell are you? What kind of scrap have you gotten into that you're calling me on a Saturday?"
David attempted a laugh, but figured he failed miserably. "No trouble, Joe. But I need some help. It's important."
"Sure. What do you need?"
"The name of the best Family Law lawyer in Los Angeles. For a friend."
Joe laughed. "You'll eventually fill me in on why you need this, right?"
"Sure thing. You're my lawyer, Joe... you know everything."
Another chuckle from Joe. "Why don't you let me make a call? I've got a name in mind, but I don't know if she's taking on any cases right now."
"If she's the best, convince her, Joe," David said with as much weight as he could manage in his tone. "I meant it when I said it's important."
Joe sighed, some of the joviality slipping from his voice. "Okay, David. You want to see her... what... Monday?"
"Today."
"Today? What the hell could be so damn urgent--"
"Today, Joe."
Joe huffed. "Okay. Give me ten minutes. I'll call you back. You at home?"
David confirmed and hung up. Andi was already shaking her head. "David, I can't fight him on this. He's a lawyer himself, he knows--"
He kissed her, satisfied again with the fact that she didn't skitter away like a frightened bird. David kissed her lips, then her cheek, and lifted her hand to kiss her knuckles. Taking a deep breath, he slid off the couch to kneel in front of her again, holding their hands in her lap.
"Listen to me, okay?" She nodded. "Joe isn't going to fool around. When I ask for the best, he's going to give us the best. We're going to talk to her and find out the truth."
"And if the truth is he has a chance..."
David swallowed against the intense lump in his throat, and bowed his head. The next words he spoke were probably some of the hardest he ever had to say. "If we talk to her, and she says Larry has a viable chance at taking Jake away from you, I swear to you I will--" Even then, he choked on the words. "I won't be the reason you lose your son. I love you -- I love you both -- too much to let that happen."
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