Life Shocks Romances Contemporary Romance Box Set

by Jade Kerrion

  A chill clawed at his chest. Does she still love—?

  “Gabe?”

  He jerked his head up.

  Josie Davis, the firm’s summer intern, leaned against the doorframe. “I’m heading out for the day. Can I get you anything before I leave?”

  “No, I’m fine. Thanks. Have a good evening.”

  “You sure?” Her eyebrows arched. She crossed her feet at the ankles as she toyed with a long blond lock of hair. “You look pretty wired.”

  So much for keeping my personal stress out of my professional life. He reached back over a shoulder to massage the back of his neck and grimaced at the tight knot of tension locked in his muscles.

  “A juice or snack?” Josie continued. “Or perhaps something more?”

  Something in her tone pricked unease along his spine. “No, thank you.” He waved her away.

  She pouted, her plump red lips pursing together, and then turned and sauntered away. He heard her call a greeting to someone else, giving him enough time to brace himself when Joe Felder, one of the two founding partners of Brickstein and Felder, looked in through the open door.

  “Can I come in?” asked Felder, a balding man in his mid-fifties.

  Gabriel rose and gestured to the seat across from him. “Yes, please.” He waited until Joe took his seat before he reclaimed his. “If you had called, I would have been happy to go to your office.”

  Felder waved his hand in a dismissive action. “I like to walk around, catch a whiff of the action, although there aren’t too many people around at this time of the day.” He glanced at Gabriel’s desk. “Is that the Campbell file?”

  Gabriel nodded.

  Felder chuckled. “One of our best customers with his repeated pre-nups and divorces. The last pre-nup you crafted for him was airtight; this divorce shouldn’t be complicated, should it?”

  “The purely financial parts aren’t. The three best-in-show German Shepherds and two racehorses that he bought for her are a little trickier. She says they were gifts. He claims they were investments.”

  “It’s always more complicated when love is involved. What other cases are you working on?”

  Gabriel smoothed the frown before it appeared on his face. Surely Felder knew what he was up to. Felder doled out the cases, after all, assigning them based on the available capacity of the attorneys while catering, naturally, to client preferences as much as possible. “I have the Matt Horton case, as well as Tom Seelye’s. Elizabeth Mack. Melissa Hirschorn.” He recited familiar names from memory. “I think three more new clients came in late last week. My paralegal’s doing some preliminary research, and I’m meeting with them later this week.”

  “All our biggest accounts and clients. They all asked for you by name.” Felder smiled. “It’s about time, don’t you think, to revisit the question of your partnership in the firm?”

  Gabriel stiffened. He stared at Felder’s face, searching for the joke.

  Felder’s smile, however, was warm and sincere. “You know you deserve it more than anyone else in the firm. Brickstein and I are meeting next week to discuss your potential partnership, and if all goes well, you should expect an official invitation to join us at the partners’ retreat in Napa Valley next month.” He leaned forward and dropped his volume to a conspiratorial whisper. “Weekend of the 21st, if you’d like to block off your calendar. Bring your wife. I’m sure she’ll enjoy meeting the other ladies.”

  Damn it. Gabriel kept his face impassive, but his heart sank. The 21st was the weekend of the school fair. What were his chances of convincing Valeria to accompany him to the partners’ retreat instead? Until yesterday, he would have rated it high; now, he wasn’t certain.

  For several more minutes, he and Felder discussed Elizabeth Mack’s complicated custody case—she was suing for custody of her ex-stepchildren on the grounds that her now ex-husband and his first wife, the biological mother of the two boys, were unfit parents. Gabriel was inclined to agree with her. His job was to convince the judge to see the issue the same way, not an easy task considering the boys’ father had considerable resources of his own and had engaged a formidable team of lawyers to defend his parental rights.

  Finally, Felder left, bidding Gabriel goodnight. Silence fell over the office. Outside, the sun had set. Gabriel reached for his smartphone but stopped himself before he sent a text message to Valeria. Surely news this big—and it was good news—should be shared in person.

  He stared at the work piled high on his desk; he would have to take it home with him.

  Moving slowly, he shoved a few files into his bag. The weight against his chest coalesced into an emotion he could only define as dread. He dreaded going home. Valeria’s demand for a divorce had ripped through the normality of the relationship. No conversation could ever be casual or simple ever again. His every word would be carefully selected, weighed for meaning. Her every word would be analyzed and evaluated for implications.

  The tension between them would have him second-guessing everything he said and did to her and around her.

  His heart heavy, the sick feeling lodged firmly in the pit of his stomach, he left the building and drove home. He did not curse Manhattan’s traffic gridlock or grumble at his nearly hour-long commute. Both gave him time to delay the meeting with Valeria. He had a problem to solve, a case to win—the marriage he saved would be his own—but somehow, he could not approach it with the same kind of confidence he approached his cases at work. His head told him he had to if he were to save his marriage. Logic, unfortunately, had little sway over his emotions. In his heart, his faith had been shaken by the depth of her unhappiness.

  It was 9 p.m. by the time he arrived home. Most of the house was dark; the children were probably already in bed. He saw the dinner leftovers in the fridge, but instead of reaching for it, he poured himself a glass of wine instead. After a second thought, he poured another glass for Valeria, and carried both glasses to the bedroom.

  She was still awake, reclined on the chaise lounge in the reading nook. A book lay open next to her, but it did not appear that she had been reading it. Her gaze snapped up to him, her eyes wide as if he had caught her off guard. “You’re home early,” she said after a moment of silence.

  Did she mean it sincerely or sarcastically? Gabriel damned the fact that he could no longer tell the difference from her tone and body language. The Valeria he had fallen in love with had been a hot-tempered woman who had lived, laughed, and loved with fierce passion. Over the years, she had grown restrained and distant, but the love, his love, hadn't changed. Had it?

  He did not know how to reach her anymore. He held out a glass. “Wine for you?”

  “Sure.” She took the glass from him and sipped it. She did not scoot over to make room for him on the seat. Years ago, she might have.

  He opened his mouth to tell her about the partnership, but at the last moment, he asked, “How was your day?”

  Surprise flickered over her face. “It went well. I stopped by the Make A Wish Foundation after lunch to learn more about a new wish they’d assigned to me. I might need some help from you on it, but I’ll know better tomorrow after I talk to the child and his parents.”

  “Okay. And the kids?”

  “About the same as usual. Marlena came back swearing she will never talk to Jenny again, but I’m sure they’ll be best friends again tomorrow.”

  “What happened?”

  “They were trying to coordinate their outfits. Marlena insists she said pink. Jenny claims it was purple. So they ended up not looking like twins, which was what they wanted.”

  “So it’s not a female social faux pas to wear the same thing as someone else?”

  “It’s cool, up to first grade. Then, apparently, it’s a social taboo.” She tilted her head. “And you? How was your day?”

  He inhaled deeply and tried to arrange the thoughts in his head. He took a few steps away from her to sit at the foot of the bed. “Joe Felder came by to see me today.”

&nbs
p; “Oh?”

  “He wanted to let me know that he’ll be talking to Brickstein about my potential partnership in the firm.”

  Valeria’s breath caught. Something flickered in her eyes—too quick to identify—and she dropped her gaze to stare at her wine glass.

  Gabriel checked his immediate dismay. He hadn’t expected confetti and fireworks from her, but he had hoped for a bit more enthusiasm and a hint of genuine delight. After all, the partnership in the legal firm was a key milestone in the plan they had established for their lives. It was supposed to mark the point at which they’d “arrived.”

  What was no longer clear though was whether they’d arrived together.

  “If the partnership goes through,” he continued, “they’d like us to attend the partners’ retreat. It’s out in Napa Valley. Weekend of the 21st.”

  “The 21st?” She reached for her smartphone, no doubt checking her calendar. “It’s the school fair.”

  “It’s Saturday, isn’t it? Maybe we could fly out together after the fair? It’ll be tiring, but we’d get to spend a day at the retreat too.”

  “Who’s going to take care of the kids?”

  “I thought—”

  “They’re not old enough to leave behind. Diego’s probably okay, but not Marlena. Maybe if she were two or three years older—”

  “It’s one night. Two, at most. This…Jenny. Do you think her mother—?”

  “You don’t even know who Jenny’s parents are. You’ve never met them, and you’re insisting we leave our children with them for the weekend?” Valeria slammed her wine glass on the side table.

  “I’m not insisting. I just—” Damn it, how had the conversation gone astray?

  “You can go to the partners’ retreat.”

  “I want to go with you.”

  She shook her head. Her dark hair swayed. “I’m not going. Someone has to stay with the kids. You can go. It’s obviously more important to you.” The biting sarcasm in her voice scraped him.

  You’re more important to me. Obviously, she did not feel the same way. He pushed to his feet and tried to moderate his voice. He had to defuse the situation. “We can make arrangements for the kids. Maybe bring them with us and find a sitter there—”

  “Without interviewing her? Without references? God, you’re just so determined to be there, you’ll barrel right through every obvious and legitimate objection I raise.”

  “You’re refusing any option I’ve put on the table.”

  “Your options are terrible.”

  “And you came to that conclusion in the two seconds it took you to interrupt me?”

  Valeria flushed. “I’m responsible for the children.”

  “They’re my children too.”

  “You’re never around!”

  He froze, as if she had struck him. “I…” What could he say? It was the truth. He frequently left for work before the children woke up and returned after they had gone to bed. He was home on the weekends, of course, but even then, a lot of his time was spent in his study, working.

  But life wasn’t cheap.

  The house. The cars. The private school. The books and toys. The enrichment classes and private coaches.

  They all cost money. Someone had to pay for them, and that was his job. Valeria, Diego, and Marlena were his responsibility. He couldn’t slack off. Not when they were counting on him and on the money.

  “I love our children. I know I’m not around much.” He swallowed the sigh. “But I’ll do better.”

  Her eyebrows drew together, but she said nothing.

  “All I’m asking for is one night,” he said.

  He waited for a sign from her, anything at all that might have hinted at a softening in her stance, but her arms remained folded across her chest. Her jaw was tight with tension.

  Gabriel ground his teeth. He had done all he could do. The ball was in her court, but she refused to play along. He said nothing else as he walked out of the bedroom to spend the night on the sofa bed in his study.

  ~*~

  All I’m asking for is one night.

  One night!

  Valeria’s hands closed around the stem of the wine glass. She would have flung the glass at his head except that the action would have been too blatantly crude, like a profane word screamed aloud in church.

  One night?

  Cherish’s words rang through her head. Remember, you’re the one who has sacrificed everything… How dared he behave so self-righteously as if he were a man wronged? Was one night all he wanted from her?

  What about all the other nights in the year—all 364 of them—when she fed the children dinner on her own, when she cuddled and read bedtime stories on her own, when she kissed the children good night on her own?

  What about all the other nights in the year—all 364 of them—when she waited up, listening for his car in the driveway, wondering if he would come up to talk to her or retreat into his study? What portion of nights had she fallen asleep, waiting in vain?

  Didn’t those nights count as nights she had given him so that he could remain in the sanctuary of his perfect career, never having to emerge out into the real world, the messy world of a wife and children, of their smiling faces and play-stained hands? Their bossy demands for cuddles and hushed whispers of I love you?

  The ache in her chest squeezed tears from her eyes. How could he not want any of his beautiful, loving children? How could he not want any of her?

  CHAPTER THREE

  The next morning, Valeria pulled her dark blue BMW into an empty spot next to the curb, fed quarters into the parking meter, and double-checked the address Brett had given her. Yes, she had arrived at the right place—a shabby brownstone townhouse that had been converted into three apartments, one on each floor. According to the file, Peter lived on the third floor with his parents, an older brother, and two younger sisters.

  Peter’s father was not in, but Margie Brown, a thin and careworn African-American woman, let Valeria into the apartment. “Peter’s in the living room. Why don’t you go and talk to him? I’ll be over in a few minutes, as soon as I get breakfast for the other two.

  Eight-year-old Peter, a wisp of a boy, offered Valeria a huge grin. “Are you from the Make A Wish Foundation?” he asked in a wheezy voice.

  “Yes, I am. I’m Valeria Cruz. And I hear that you want to be a judge.”

  “Yes. It is the most awesome job ever,” he said. It shouldn’t have been possible, but his grin widened further.

  Valeria relaxed into a matching smile. She could hear echoes of Diego’s natural enthusiasm resounding in Peter’s voice. “Tell me what you think you’d like most about being a judge.”

  He warbled on, and she took notes. At some point in the conversation, Margie came in, carrying an infant, and sat across from Valeria. She listened to her son speak of his dreams—dreams that might never come to pass—and a sad smile etched her lips.

  With increasing frequency, Peter lapsed into body-wracking coughs. One coughing fit was so severe that Margie scurried to her son’s side. Awkwardly, she shifted her baby as she tried to tend to Peter. “Maybe you should lie down and rest for a few minutes.”

  Valeria stood up and held her arms out for the infant. “I’ll take the baby. Peter needs you.”

  “Thank you.” With a grateful smile, Margie handed the child over and then carried Peter away.

  Valeria settled in a chair and rocked the wide-eyed infant who stared at her. “You’re a cutie.” She stroked the chubby cheek as she hummed a song; the baby cooed and snuggled closer.

  By the time Margie came back out fifteen minutes later, the baby was fast asleep in Valeria’s arms. Margie smiled. “You have quite a knack with little ones,” she whispered.

  “I have two of my own. Eight and five.” Valeria’s tone was no louder than Margie’s as she continued to rock the baby. “How is Peter?”

  “Resting as comfortably as he can manage. So, is the foundation going to grant him his wish?”

>   “We think so. I’ll be working on it; you should feel free to call me up at any time to check on it.”

  “Oh, thank you.” Margie’s smile was as effusive as Peter’s. “It’s going to mean so much to him, after everything that he’s had to go through.”

  “And how are things here?” Valeria asked.

  Margie’s gaze flicked across the room. She sighed. “Tight, and getting tighter every day. I don’t know if you know our situation, but I had to quit my job to take care of Peter after it became clear that Peter could no longer go to school. Then my Pete—my husband, Pete Sr.—lost his job. He’s found another one since, but it pays a lot less, and the benefits aren’t as good. The insurance company…” Her shoulders heaved. “The insurance company is refusing to pay—”

  Valeria frowned. “What do you mean they’re refusing to pay? How can they do that?”

  “Our coverage lapsed when Pete was between jobs, and now, they say Peter’s cancer is a preexisting condition. They’re refusing to pay.”

  “That’s crazy. They can’t do that.”

  “Who’s going to fight them? I’m on the phone with them every day. Nothing I say seems to make any difference. They say they’re going to work out a payment plan for us, but it doesn’t mean anything if we can’t pay it regardless. We barely make the rent as it is.” Her voice broke. “That’s why this wish is so important for Peter. We’re so afraid that, at some point, the hospitals will stop treating him when they realize they can’t get any money out of us.”

  “I’m pretty sure they can’t do that.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Margie’s hand trembled as she wiped moisture from her eyes. “I realize we could lose Peter to the cancer, but I never imagined it would be because we couldn’t pay for the doctors to help him fight back.”

  Valeria’s arms were full of the baby, or she would have reached out to give the other woman a hug. What could she say? “It’s going to be all right” was a platitude, and offered false hope. “I’m so sorry” seemed to concede defeat. She realized painfully that there was nothing she could say that could make any difference to Margie.