by ANDREA SMITH
“I hate that you have to leave, baby. I want more of what we had last night.”
“Which reminds me,” I said. “You and I need to talk about that.”
“About what?”
“About the fact we had unprotected sex. Trey, I'm not ready for another baby yet.”
“Oh, Christ Tylar, do you think you're going to get pregnant not using birth control one time?”
“Uhh….how did Preston get here sweetie?”
“That had to be a long shot statistically,” he remarked.
“Statistics or not Trey, I do realize that a diaphragm requires advance planning and it doesn’t lend itself to spontaneity; condoms don’t let either of us really feel each other. Since I'm weaning her off the breast perhaps there are other options I need to explore. I'll make an appointment with my doctor, okay?”
“Okay, sweetie,” he replied, “but I do want another baby before too long.”
“I'd like a couple of years between them. Let’s get settled in our new home first. We can start trying again next summer, okay?”
“It'll be my pleasure, Mrs. Sinclair. Here,” he said, holding up my wedding set that I'd once again placed on the vanity while I'd put my make-up on and fixed my hair. “Put this on."
CHAPTER 24
I was nuzzled out of my sleep on Sunday morning by my horny husband wanting to play. “Trey, please,” I whined. “I love you seven ways from Sunday, baby, but I'm so tired. I didn’t get home until 3:00 a.m.”
“I know,” he said, kissing my face and neck. “You're keeping pretty late hours for a married woman.”
“Trey -”
“Okay, okay, sweetie, go back to sleep. I’ll take care of our baby this morning. Don’t forget though, we are supposed to have lunch with Tristan and Libby at one.”
“Yeah, okay. Make sure I’m up by 11:00 a.m., please?”
“Will do, baby,” he said rolling out of bed to get a fussing Preston from her room.
At 11:00 a.m. Trey was promptly in our room with Preston. He'd dressed her horribly. He put her down on the bed where she quickly crawled over to me smiling. She cuddled against me. “Hi, baby girl,” I said yawning. “What are you wearing?”
“Oh,” Trey said grinning, “I thought maybe I'd get her dressed up a bit for lunch.” He'd dressed her in a red, black and green tartan plaid wool pleated skirt with a brown turtle neck sweater. He'd put dark blue knit tights on her and brown boots.
“Thanks, sweetie,” I said smiling at him mentally gagging at the obvious clashing of colors and style.
“Do you want something to eat before we meet Tristan for lunch? I made some sweet rolls and coffee earlier.”
Trey was being so damn sweet my heart swelled with the love I had for him. So what if he was color blind? He had so many other great qualities I decided. “Thanks, honey, it sounds good,” I said getting out from the covers and stretching. “I think I'll have a little something.”
I managed to re-dress Preston before we left changing out the brown sweater for a red one that matched the red in her plaid skirt. I substituted black knit tights and black dress shoes for her feet. I brushed her hair up into a little ponytail sprout. She looked adorable.
We met Tristan and Libby at an upscale restaurant in Buckhead called “Sunday’s.” It was well known for the Sunday brunch menu they offered. Libby was dressed in her usual impeccable style that seemed distant from her sexual and social tastes. She'd worn her long blond hair down straight with a black fedora hat perched saucily on her head. She'd dressed in a black wool skirt that was straight cut with a slit up the back with black leather boots that sported silver spurs as accents.
Libby seemed out of sorts that we'd brought the baby with us. She'd made a comment that she had little experience with children since she'd been raised by a nanny because her parents had traveled extensively. She'd been an only child.
We ordered our lunch. Preston was seated at the end of the table in a high chair. I'd packed some graham crackers for her to snack on. She'd eaten some pureed bananas and had nursed before we left. I tied her bib on her knowing how messy she could get with her crackers.
Libby ordered a double Bloody Mary and quiche; Trey and I ordered Spanish omelets and iced tea; Tristan ordered a spinach salad and club soda. Our conversation consisted of catching up as to how things were going with Tristan’s expanded winery. It would be in full production by the first of the year. Libby filled us in on the end of year close-out sales at the various boutiques and sex shops in the distribution chain of Sexabella Products. She told Trey she could hook him up with some stocking stuffers for Christmas at a large discount. She handed him her card which he pocketed. I made a mental note to toss it in the trash when I did laundry.
The waitress brought Libby her second Bloody Mary and I noticed once again how much attention she was paying to Trey. I couldn’t understand why Tristan was oblivious to it.
Tristan and I were having a side conversation about the club. He said he would like to discuss a business venture with me later concerning the club and his interest in buying into it.
He said that he had some solid ideas that would benefit all concerned. I told him I'd be more than happy to discuss it. The truth was I'd entertain another partner as long as Gina approved as I really needed to cut my hours there. I missed Trey and the baby too much on the weekends.
Preston had been gumming her graham crackers for a few minutes and naturally had a soggy mess going on with her fingers and around her mouth. I pulled my cloth napkin out wiping her mouth and fingers. She passed some gas and giggled at the sound. In a few moments Trey noticed her cheeks getting beet red and he nudged me. I looked over and saw the same just as she grunted audibly.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Libby commented, rolling her eyes in disgust and waving her hand around her nose as if she was about to pass out. “That smells terrible. It has simply killed my appetite.”
“Now, baby,” Tristan consoled her, reaching over to rub her cheek, “that's just what babies do.”
“That’s why they’re gross,” she said still fanning her face.
“Think about it; one day we'll have one of our own that will be making a mess with his or her crackers and crapping in their diaper whenever they feel the need.”
“The hell you say,” she said laughing, downing the rest of her drink. “I don’t do diapers, baby.”
“Then I'll change them all, sweetheart,” he said, kissing her lightly on the nose.
I lifted Preston out of her high chair and grabbed her diaper bag taking her to the restroom to change her. What was in Preston’s diaper at the moment was preferable to what was being said at our table. It was getting a bit too deep out there for me. It was obvious that Libby didn’t possess a maternal instinct. Tristan was certainly blinded by something.
Thankfully the restroom was equipped with a changing station. I had to pull off Preston’s shoes and tights to get to the offensive diaper. I finally got her cleaned up, changed and re-dressed. When we got back to the table Trey was sitting there by himself. Our food had arrived. I put Preston back in the high chair and sat down.
“Where’s Tristan and Libby,” I asked, looking around.
“They left.”
“What? Why?”
“Libby claimed that the smell of baby poop had made her nauseous; they had their food boxed up to go.”
“You're kidding, right?”
“Nope; dead serious. She’s quite a piece of work. I can’t believe Tristan tolerates her shit.”
“I can’t either,” I said cutting into my Spanish omelet.
“Tristan said to let you know he'll stop by the club Monday afternoon before he heads back to Bristol to discuss his business proposition. What’s that about?”
“Oh,” I replied, “Tristan is interested in buying into the club. He wants to distribute his wine in this area and said something about having the Sanctuary carry it exclusively.”
“Sounds like he might want to buy you ou
t,” Trey commented.
“Would that please you, Trey?”
“I’m not going to lie; it would make me happy. Ultimately, that's your decision to make.”
I asked Trey to drop me by the club on our way home so that I could help Gina get the weekly receipts categorized for the accountant.
“How long will you be there today?” he questioned, not hiding his irritation.
“Don’t worry. I’ll have Gina drop me back at home so you can watch football uninterrupted.”
“It’s not that, baby. We haven’t seen each other all weekend. I work through the week and now you'll be working mostly weekends and some evenings during the week. When will we have our time?”
“We’ll figure it out, Trey.”
I leaned over and gave him a kiss before I got out of the car. Gina’s car was in the lot along with the cleaning crew’s van. We were out of there in about an hour and a half. I mentioned to her as she drove me home about Tristan’s interest in the club. I hoped she'd be receptive to it.
“Hey, I’ve got no problem with hearing his proposal tomorrow,” she said. “It just better not include that blonde bitch he’s engaged to.”
“Not too many people in the Libby fan club, it seems,” I replied. “Finally, you and Trey agree on something.”
“So, the Hot Nazi doesn’t care for her either?”
“He can’t stand her. Are you surprised?”
She shrugged and continued driving.
“What, Gina?”
“Well, I didn’t say anything the other night because it was obvious that you were already knee-deep in drama, but that chick was all over Trey every time Tristan went to piss or got another drink at the bar.”
“What?” I screeched, fuming that Gina hadn't told me this until now.
“Calm down, Tylar. It wasn’t like Trey reciprocated or asked for the attention. You know damn well I’d have taken action on my own, if that was the case.”
“Define all-over-Trey for me, please.”
“Well, she'd touch him, you know? Like if she laughed, she'd toss her hair back and brush her hand against his shoulder or chest, lean into him, stuff like that. I could tell Trey wasn't comfortable with it at all.”
I relayed to Gina the episode this afternoon at the restaurant with Libby.
“You know, Ty, Tristan is a gorgeous man and Libby is pretty enough, I guess, but it seems to me that he's way too good for her.”
“I totally agree. I think his whole blindness to her is because he really wants marriage and a family. I’d like to think that Trey and I might have played a part in influencing him in that direction.”
Gina gave me a sidelong glance.
“What?”
“Does Tristan have a clue as to how much you two fight?”
“We don’t fight that much, Gina. We just disagree at times but then we work it out.”
“I guess you’re right. It seems to be working, whatever it is. See you tomorrow, girlfriend.”
She dropped me at the curb and I went through the lobby of our apartment building. Trey was stretched out on the couch watching football when I got in. Preston was napping. I kicked my boots off and curled up on the couch with Trey. He pulled me close, wrapping his arms around me. I ended up falling asleep in his arms. He woke me when the game was over asking me if I was hungry.
“I am, but I don’t feel like cooking anything,” I whined.
We ordered a pizza to be delivered. Preston was awake so I went ahead and bathed her while we waited for the pizza. I dressed her in pajamas and put her in her playpen with her favorite toys.
Trey brought our pizza into the living room so he could watch the later games. He had a bottle of beer and had poured a glass of wine for me. I dug into the pizza. I sipped on the wine slowly as I had a one glass limit while still nursing.
“Trey, can I ask you something?”
“Sure, baby,” he replied wiping his mouth with a napkin as he grabbed another slice of pizza.
“Has Libby hit on you?”
He paused with the slice of pizza in midair. “What did Gina tell you?”
“Never mind what Gina told me. I want to hear your version of it.”
“I should've told you sooner; I’m sorry. Gina was eyeballing us all evening so I imagine she just couldn’t wait to tell you.”
I was starting to get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I needed to stay calm. I needed him to tell me what he thought I already knew. I downed the rest of my wine.
“I’m waiting to hear your version of this, Trey.”
“The other night at the club, Tristan got up to use the restroom. Libby was telling me a joke that she'd heard at work. Naturally, it was one of those X-rated jokes, but it was funny and I laughed. She was laughing too and then she sort of leaned into me and put her hand on my crotch and started feeling around.”
“And you did nothing,” I hissed as if that's what I was led to believe.
“That’s a lie!” he shouted, startling Preston from her play. She started to fuss so I went over to pick her up. My heart was pounding. I sat back down with her in my lap. She put her thumb in her mouth and leaned back against me watching Trey.
“Let’s keep our voices down, Trey. No need to upset the baby,” I said calmly. “Go on.”
“If Gina told you that I did nothing then she's lying,” he said calmly, smiling to act as if everything was okay for Preston’s benefit. “I promptly lifted her hand from my crotch and asked her what the hell she thought she was doing. Her response was that she dreamed of doing both Tristan and I together - in bed I mean.”
“Yes, I gathered that much,” I replied sweetly, bestowing a smile back to him. “Why haven’t you told Tristan?”
“I don’t know. I’m conflicted. What if she tells him she was just kidding? What if she tells him I made it up? That could do irreparable damage to Tristan and my relationship. Of course, since Gina saw the whole thing and saw fit to tell you her version of it then I suppose she'd be no help in validating it with Tristan.”
I needed to come clean with Trey about Gina’s involvement or he would dislike her that much more than he did.
“Gina didn’t say anything to me about her fondling your junk,” I stated, picking up another slice of pizza as I balanced Preston on my lap.
“What?”
“Hey, you're the one that jumped to that conclusion. The only thing that Gina told me was that Libby was all over you and that you didn’t reciprocate. So, I'll thank you very much to not make a snap judgment about my BFF.”
Trey started to say something more but his IPhone chimed. He pulled it from his pocket to answer. I finished my slice of pizza as Trey took his call to the study. I took Preston into the kitchen and got her settled into her high chair for dinner. Trey came into the kitchen just as I was helping her use the cup to drink. He had a serious look on his face. I hoped it wasn't bad news.
“That was the deputy D.A. giving us a courtesy call. Your moth---Maggie's been extradited back to Georgia. She'll be transported to the jail here, tomorrow.”
“What's that mean for us?” I asked.
“It means she'll be arraigned, make her pleading against the charges, have legal representation and the criminal litigation process starts for her here.”
“Will she be able to get out on bond?”
“That’s what I was discussing with the Deputy D.A. just now. Nothing's for certain but she'll be considered a major flight risk, so they're going to go very high with her bond if she's granted one at all. Please don’t worry, baby.”
“That’s easy to say but we know she had assistance from at least one person in the area, maybe more. She's always been resourceful that way. At least you'll be here with us." I smiled at him for reinforcement.
"I have to go to Baton Rouge this week, baby.”
“Why and for how long?”
“I have to make an oral argument and present briefs in a class action suit Harmon and I are handling in front of th
e Judicial Panel on Multidistrict Litigation. We're trying to consolidate cases that are pending in another district court and lump them together under one federal jurisdiction. It may be a couple of days.”
Then I recalled what this was about. This was the case that had to go in front of the panel of seven federal judges one having a name similar to mine. I'd meant to ask Trey about that numerous times but had always seemed to get side-tracked.
“I want to go with you,” I blurted.
“Baby, if you don’t want to be alone, why not have Gina come and stay here with you while I’m gone?”
“It’s not that. It’s about one of the federal judges on that judicial panel. I remember seeing his name when I was working at the firm the day Preston was taken. I meant to ask you about him then but with all that’s happened, it slipped my mind. His name is mine only backwards.”
Trey’s confusion was apparent.
“His name is Preston James Tylar. His C.V. states that he was appointed as a federal judge in 1990, the same year that I was born. He serves as an appellate court judge in Baton Rouge when not serving on the JPML.”
“Tylar, I'm impressed with your knowledge of this particular judge, but I still don’t understand why you want to go with me.”
“I know it sounds bizarre, but something hit me when I saw his name that day at the firm when I was entering the data in Harmon’s court calendar. I can’t describe it but I just know that I have to see him.”
“I've no issue taking you with me but I’m not sure how much you'll be able to see. These hearings are similar to state Supreme Court arguments where you get so many minutes to state your case and pitch your argument. Literally when the red light in the front by the judges illuminates it means to shut up and go back to your seat.”
“What times your hearing scheduled? We can get there early to make sure we sit up front.”
“It doesn’t work that way, baby. The dockets are called at random beginning at 8:00 a.m. each morning so we may simply sit there or have to hang out in the hallway until our docket gets called. It’s not like a court hearing you’ve seen on television where the defendants sit up front at a table facing the judges and the plaintiffs sit at the table on the opposite side.”