David laughed. “I have glass number two in my hand as we speak.”
“Excellent.” David took a sip when Jackson paused. “And listen, I don’t want you to worry about the work at the house getting done. I won’t let it go unfinished. Neither will Gil. So stop worrying about that.”
“Jackson, I can’t let you and Gil do the work if I can’t afford to pay you for it.”
“David?”
David rolled his eyes. Even for as short a time as they’d known each other, David recognized that stubborn, unyielding tone of voice. “Yes?”
“Shut up, okay? Just… let us do this. The house is worth a couple hundred grand more than you paid for it. I figure I’ll get paid. If I’m not worried about it, and Gil isn’t worried about it, maybe you shouldn’t be either.”
David had to blink against a sudden and wholly shocking sting of tears. He hadn’t allowed himself to cry during the whole of the Trevor mess, and now he was afraid if he started, he’d never stop. He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Yeah, okay,” David managed, sounding breathless but not weepy. That was a relief. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” There was another pause, and even though they’d said everything that needed saying, it was like neither of them wanted to hang up.
“So, what time is your appointment with your lawyer?”
“Nine.”
“Okay.”
David could count his heartbeats during the following silence. One, two, three….
“Are you… okay, going alone?”
David’s heart warmed. “Yeah, I’m okay. But thanks for offering.”
“Sure.”
One, two, three….
“I should hang up now. Six comes early.”
“It does.”
David could feel his heart beat. Thud-thud, thud-thud, thud-thud….
“I wish I was there, holding you.” Jackson’s voice was so deep, so soft, and David let it wrap around him like a blanket.
He took in a deep, shuddering breath. “I wish you were too.”
“See you tomorrow.”
“Absolutely.”
“Good night, David.”
“Good night.”
David thumbed his phone off, and despite the way his afternoon had gone, and despite the uncertainty of the situation with Trevor, he went to sleep warmed clear through, a smile on his face.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
HE WORE a suit the next morning. He didn’t ordinarily wear suits; in fact, the one he took out of the closet he’d only worn once, to a cousin’s wedding the year before. He’d picked it out alone, loving the cut and the dark blue color. Of course Trevor hated it, saying the lapels were too wide and the trousers cut wrong, which is probably why he never wore it again. But on this sunny fall morning, when the temperature was in the midtwenties, he donned a white oxford button-down and a blue striped tie with the dark blue suit. He added a pair of black leather loafers that had cost more than his car payment, and he even tucked a pocket square in the pocket of his jacket. He’d never actually met his lawyer face-to-face, but he figured when you were paying someone two hundred and fifty dollars an hour, looking like you could afford her might be a good thing. Plus the suit made him feel empowered, and after the day before, he figured any little bit of empowerment couldn’t hurt. When he studied himself in the mirror, he thought he still looked like an effeminate nerd, but at least a prosperous one.
He laid his long black overcoat and gloves on the back of the sofa, then walked through the dining room, intent on starting a pot of coffee. He had paused to admire the way the sun filtered through the two stained glass windows above the built-ins in his dining room when the front doorbell rang.
David checked his watch. It was only seven thirty. Dark hair and the strong lines of Jackson’s face were visible through the small windows in the front door, and he was smiling when he opened it.
“Good morning,” he said.
Jackson was wearing his bulky denim jacket and knit gloves, and the cold had brought color to his strong cheekbones and the tip of his nose. He held a tray with two Dunkin’ Donuts cups and a small brown paper bag, and he looked at David, his brows shooting up.
“Wow. Look at you.”
He came in through the open door, his gaze moving up and down David with slow thoroughness, and David closed the door, feeling his cheeks fill with color.
“Damn.” Jackson smiled slowly. “You look amazing.”
“Better than my usual, preteen girl attire?”
Jackson grinned. “I like that too. But this is… impressive.”
David looked down. “Thanks.”
Jackson held out the small bag a bit awkwardly and David took it from him.
“Breakfast.” Jackson indicated the tray, and David grinned.
“That was nice of you.”
They crossed into the kitchen, and once he’d set the cups on the counter, Jackson reached out and curled his hands gently around his arms.
“You really do look… pretty amazing.” Jackson smoothed his palms down to David’s hands. “And I want to kiss you, but I don’t want to muss your suit.”
David smiled. “You won’t. Much to the ex’s chagrin, it’s a polyester blend.”
“The more I hear about this guy, the more convinced I am he wasn’t good enough for you.”
David’s grin mellowed as his slipped his arms around Jackson’s waist, inside his jacket.
“I don’t think he was either.”
He was still smiling when Jackson pulled him close and kissed him.
AFTER BREAKFAST sandwiches and a lovely hazelnut-blend coffee, David left his house at eight thirty. Gil was just arriving, and he parked on the street and grinned as he dropped the tailgate of his pickup.
“Looking good there, handsome,” he called, and David waved with a grin. There was nothing as heartening as having two good-looking men admire the way you looked. It was a balm for an ego that had taken several hits in the last few weeks. Of course, having your lips still swollen from the kisses of one of those two men was even better. Vernon climbed out of the passenger side of Gil’s truck and whistled as David started for the garage. David shot a grin over his shoulder.
The smile lasted all the way until he was pulling out into rush hour traffic and the packet of papers rustled in his breast pocket as he turned the corner. Anxiety made his skin feel too tight, but he took a deep breath, forcing the fear down. He wasn’t going to jump to conclusions until he talked to his lawyer. It was why he’d hired her, after all.
Her offices were in a very nice high-rise building in the downtown corridor. He took the elevator to the sixth floor, and when he stepped off, he saw the entire floor was taken up with the law firm. Ridgeway, Ridgeway, and Cohen was emblazoned on the dark wood wall in eighteen-inch-tall golden letters, and a very attractive woman with short dark hair and a ready smile sat behind the reception desk.
He gave her his name and she picked up her phone, gesturing toward a coffee station in the corner. David had already reached his coffee limit for the morning, so he took a seat in a very comfortable chair in the corner to wait. He didn’t sit there long.
Karen Ridgeway wore a sharp tweed skirt and a bronze silk blouse. Her blonde hair was cut in a blunt bob, and she wore gold hoops in her ears and a simple gold ring on her finger. Expert and subtly applied makeup highlighted her attractive features, and she approached and offered her hand with a friendly smile.
“David?”
He stood, taking the offered hand.
“It’s nice to finally meet you face-to-face. Come on back.”
She led the way down a long, wide hall. They passed several beautifully appointed offices and one large conference room, and finally ended up in a corner office with an impressive view of downtown and the river.
“Can I take your coat?”
“No, I’m fine, thank you.”
She gestured toward a burgundy leather wingback chair facing a large mahogany desk, and s
ettled into a matching swivel chair behind it. David’s hands were clenched and he forced them to relax.
“All right,” she began, “my message says you were served with court documents yesterday?”
“Yes.” He reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out the envelope. Once he’d placed it in her outstretched hand, he watched nervously as she pulled out the documents. It was a challenge to keep his knee from bouncing as she read the three pages carefully, a slight frown forming. After several minutes she touched a button on her desk phone.
“Brian, can you come in here, please?”
A young man answered the summons quickly. He was an attractive guy with reddish-blond hair, smartly dressed in dark slacks and a shirt and tie. She held the sheaf of papers out to him. “Could you call the courthouse for me and see if this case has been filed?”
He took the papers and glanced at the first page, frowning slightly. “But, this doesn’t….”
“I know,” she cut him off. “Just double-check, please.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The man left as David’s lawyer picked up her phone and quickly punched in a number, then leaned back in her chair.
“Tony Sugarton, please,” she said to whomever answered the phone. She gave David a reassuring smile while she waited. It wasn’t long. “Tony, Karen Ridgeway here. Listen, did you have documents served on David Snyder on behalf of your client Trevor Blankenship?” She listened for several minutes, her smile scarcely wavering. “Is that right? Okay, well, thanks so much. Give Mimi my love.” She listened again for a moment. “Sure. Ron and I would love that. I’ll give you a ring before the weekend.”
She hung up as Brian walked back into the office. “It hasn’t been filed.” He handed the papers to her and, after giving David a fleeting smile, left the room.
Karen leaned forward, bracing her elbows on the top of her desk and linking her hands. She pursed her lips briefly, her thumbs bumping together a few times. “Well,” she said finally. “It appears that your ex is trying to pull a fast one.”
David stiffened. “Pardon?”
“His lawyer didn’t draw up these documents. Mr. Blankenship probably downloaded them from the Internet. And it’s not to say he couldn’t file a lawsuit himself. He could. But—” She held his gaze. “—not with these papers.”
“I’m sorry,” David said. “I don’t understand.”
“You told me that you and Mr. Blankenship didn’t register as domestic partners, correct?”
David nodded.
“Then it’s impossible for him to apply for dissolution of something that doesn’t exist. And what he apparently doesn’t know because he didn’t do his homework is that all domestic partnerships entered into in Washington State before 2014 were automatically registered as marriages once the law legalizing same-sex marital recognition passed. I was almost positive these papers weren’t the work of his lawyer. In addition, I knew they probably weren’t filed with the court.”
“But, I was served,” David said. “In my office.”
Karen looked faintly apologetic. “He probably had someone he knows do it, someone you hadn’t met.” David thought of the man who had come to his office, and he could say without question he’d never seen him before. “Whoever he was, he wasn’t an actual process server. I’m sorry, David, but I think your ex was simply trying to rattle your cage.”
“Rattle my cage,” David repeated through tight lips.
“He probably wanted to point out it would be a whole lot less expensive to make the condo payment than it would be if he got a settlement from a court, including support. Perhaps he thought this would instigate negotiations with you for what he wants. Apparently he doesn’t know that because you weren’t married, he isn’t entitled to support.”
A slow-burning anger filled David’s chest. He reached across the desk and picked up the papers that had turned the last twenty-four hours of his life into a living hell. “So, let me understand: he did this so I would negotiate with him about the condo payment?”
“I think so, yes.”
David’s fingers tightened around the papers, and she studied him, a calm, perceptive expression settling over her features.
“Because his name is on the mortgage for the condo,” she said, “he’s entitled to half of the proceeds when it’s sold, but certainly nothing in addition to that. And—” She steepled her hands beneath her chin. “—if you’re no longer interested in keeping that property, you are within your legal rights to tell him he has the option of buying you out immediately or selling it.” She studied him, her gaze unwavering. “So, are you ready to stop letting him walk all over you?”
David clenched his teeth, anger choking him. He forced a deep swallow. “You know, I believe I am.” He was proud his voice sounded so calm. It was the exact opposite of what he was feeling.
A slow, predatory smile spread across her lips. “Good.”
STILL SIMMERING with anger at the end of his appointment, David simply couldn’t face the idea of putting up with his daily routine at work. He called Michael.
“How did it go?” Michael asked as he came on the line.
“Infuriating. The good news is I won’t be paying anyone twelve grand a month. The bad news is my ex is an even bigger bastard than I thought.”
“Oh God, did he do something else?”
“No, sending me fake court documents was the extent of this week’s effort to drive me insane.”
“Wait, he did what?”
“Listen, can we talk about this later? I’m not in the mood right now.”
“Of course,” Michael said quickly. “You’re not coming in, are you?”
“That’s why I’m calling. I’d really rather not.”
“Don’t worry about it. The only thing on today’s schedule is that conference call with Conderson’s, and I can handle that.”
“I love you, Michael.” David let his head fall back against the headrest. “If I had to take that call today, I’d probably tell them to just fuck off with their demands.”
“You have no guarantee I won’t do precisely the same thing.” David gave a short laugh. “Listen,” Michael went on, “I’ll call you when I leave the office, okay? I need to hear what’s going on.”
“That’ll be fine.” David closed his eyes as relief washed over him. “And Michael? I owe you.”
“So much more than you can ever pay,” Michael agreed. “I’ll call you later.”
David drove home through the quiet neighborhood streets, passing school buses and young soccer moms in their minivans. When he pulled into the driveway, the sight of Jackson’s silver truck parked in front of his house made his heart lift. Vern’s truck was there too, the tailgate lowered and five-gallon buckets of paint sitting in the truck bed. David parked in front of the garage door, sitting in the car for a few minutes as weariness washed over him. He was so tired of the mess with Trevor, so tired of the nerves that struck him when darkness fell, so tired of the nastiness. Even with Karen’s help in countermanding what Trevor had done, the whole thing made him feel ill.
His car door was pulled open, and he stiffened instinctively as cold air rushed over him. Jackson bent, looking at him with concern in his eyes, and David reached out.
Jackson took his hand, crouching beside him. “Babe, are you okay?”
David paused before he nodded. He’d never been much for endearments, but hearing Jackson call him babe sent a shaft of pleasure through him. “Yes, I’m fine.”
“Did everything go okay?”
Jackson looked so worried, a crease between his brows, that David reached out and smoothed it with his thumb. “Yes. But let’s go inside to talk, okay?”
Jackson glanced behind him. “Vern and Gil are prepping the bathroom. Do you want the conversation to stay private?” David appreciated his discretion, and he nodded. “Come with me?”
They walked shoulder to shoulder over to Jackson’s truck, Jackson gripping his hand, and when they pulled awa
y from the curb, David didn’t even care where they were going. He closed his eyes, grateful for the heated seat, the way it fit to his spine. Tension seeped from his shoulders. Jackson’s supportive, thoughtful silence did more to calm him than any assurances Karen Ridgeway had uttered.
When they’d been in the truck for several minutes, Jackson parked and David opened his eyes. “Where are we?”
He looked around with interest and saw towering pine trees and rocks, interspersed with bright red bushes. Down the hill was a fast-moving stream, the water frothy and sea green. On the other side were some small cabins tucked in between the trees.
“I came to Leadership camp here.” Jackson put the truck in park and turned off the engine. “It’s only fifteen minutes from downtown, but it might as well be a world away. I come up here when I need to just get out of town. There aren’t any fish in the stream, but it hasn’t stopped me from trying.” He unfastened his seat belt, then leaned across the console between them and undid David’s as well.
When he would have moved back to his own seat, David gripped the lapels of his denim jacket, stopping him. He kissed Jackson softly, his hands opening to smooth over the chest beneath the dark fabric.
Jackson leaned his elbow on the console. “You ready to talk?” David nodded. “Good.” He gestured toward the backseat. “Care to step into my office?”
David grinned. “Did you just invite me to your backseat, sir?”
Jackson pretended to think about it. “I believe I did.”
“Excellent.”
David opened his door, stepping down. By the time he reached for the grab handle to climb into the backseat, Jackson was already inside, his hand extended. He helped David up onto the seat, closing the door behind him.
“Very smooth,” David said, smiling. “One would think you’ve had practice.”
“Hey, I was a teenager with an extended cab pickup. I won’t lie.”
David, Renewed Page 16