by Nora Roberts
“No, Your Honor, but I don’t want you to hold this against my client when I am.”
“Agreed.” Pleased with what she saw in Rachel, what she heard, and what she sensed, Beckett rattled the ice in her glass. “Explain tonight.”
“It was my fault,” Rachel said, pushing her wine aside. “It was poor judgment on my part that caused Nick to feel, to believe he felt…something.”
Beckett pursed her lips. “I begin to see. He’s a healthy young man, and you’re an attractive woman who’s shown an interest in him.”
“And I blew it,” Rachel said bitterly. “I thought I’d handled it. I was so damn sure I was on top of everything.”
“I know the feeling.” Beckett sampled a beer nut thoughtfully. “Off the record. Start at the beginning.”
Hoping her own culpability would lighten Nick’s load, even if it got her thrown off the case, Rachel explained. Beckett said nothing, only nodding or making interested noises now and again. “And when he walked into the office and saw Zack and me together,” she concluded, “all he saw was betrayal. I know I had no right to become involved with Zack. Excuses don’t cut it.”
“Rachel, you’re an excellent attorney. That doesn’t preclude your having a private life.”
“When it endangers my relationship with a client—”
“Don’t interrupt. I’ll grant that you may have exercised poor judgment in this instance. I’ll also grant that one can’t always choose the time, place or circumstances for falling in love.”
“I didn’t say I was in love.”
Beckett smiled. “I noticed that. It’s easier to beat yourself up about it if you tell yourself love had nothing to do with it.” Her smile widened. “No rebuttal, Counselor? Just as well, because I haven’t finished. I could tell you you’ve lost your objectivity, but you already know that. I, for one, am not entirely sure objectivity is always the answer. There are so many shades between right and wrong. Finding the one that fits is something we struggle with every day. Your client is trying to find his. You may not be able to help.”
“I don’t want to let him down.”
“Better you should do what’s possible to prevent him from letting himself down. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. You’ll discover how often it doesn’t when it’s your turn to sit on the bench.”
The understanding in Beckett’s eyes had Rachel reaching for her wine again. “I didn’t know I was that transparent.”
“Oh, to one who’s been there, certainly.” Amused, Beckett tapped her glass against Rachel’s. “A few more years of seasoning, Counselor, and you’ll make quite a competent judge. That is what you want?”
“Yes.” She met Beckett’s eyes levelly. “That’s exactly what I want.”
“Good. Now, since I’ve had a drink and I’m feeling rather mellow, I’ll tell you something—off the record. It was almost thirty years ago that I was you. So very close to who and what you are. Things were more difficult for women in our position than they are now. They’re far from perfect now,” she added, setting her glass aside, “but some of the battles are over. I had to make choices. Those professional-versus-personal choices that men rarely have to make. Do I have a family or do I have a career? I don’t regret choosing my career.”
She glanced back at the bar, at Zack, and sighed. “Or only rarely. But times change, and even a professionally ambitious woman doesn’t have to make an either-or decision. She can have both, if she’s clever. You strike me as a clever woman.”
“I like to think so,” Rachel murmured. “But it doesn’t make it any less terrifying.”
“That kind of terror makes life worthwhile. I don’t think nerves will stop you, Counselor. I don’t think anything will. In the meantime, see that you and your client are prepared for the hearing.”
When Beckett rose, Rachel was instantly on her feet. “Judge Beckett, about tonight—”
“I came in for a drink. It’s a nice bar. Clean, friendly. As for my decision, that will depend on what I see and hear in my courtroom. Understood?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“Tell Mr. Muldoon he makes an excellent manhattan.”
With her emotions still in a state of upheaval, Rachel watched Beckett stroll out.
“How bad is it?” Zack asked from behind her.
Rachel merely shook her head, reaching back to take his hand. “She likes the way you mix a drink.” Turning to him, she comforted him with a hug. “And I think I’ve just met another intelligent woman with a weakness for bad boys. It’s going to be all right.”
“If Nick doesn’t come back…”
“He’ll be back.” She needed to believe it. Needed to make Zack believe it. “He’s mad, and he’s hurt, but he’s not stupid.” She gave his hand another quick squeeze and smiled up at him. “He’s too much like you.”
“I shouldn’t have hit him.”
“Intellectually, I agree. Emotionally…” Because passion was a part of her life, she shrugged it off. “I’ve seen my brothers pound on each other too often to believe it’s the end of the world. I’ve got to go.” She touched a gentle kiss to his swollen lip. “When he comes back, it’s probably best if I’m not here. But I want you to call me when he shows up, no matter what time it is.”
“I don’t like you going home alone,” he said as he walked with her to where her coat was hanging.
“I’ll take a cab.” The fact that he didn’t argue made her realize just how distracted he was. “We’re going to work this out, Zack. Trust me.”
“Yeah. I’ll call you.”
She stepped outside and headed down to the corner to hail a cab. Trust me, she’d told him. She could only hope she deserved that trust.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
She nearly called Alex when she got home, but she was afraid that if her brother put out feelers, even unofficially, Nick would only be more furious.
All she could do was wait. And wait alone.
An odd triangle they made, she thought as she wandered restlessly around her apartment with a rapidly cooling cup of tea. Nick, young and defiant, seeing rejection and betrayal everywhere, even as he looked so desperately for his place in the world. And Zack, so innately generous, so fueled by passion and so vulnerable to his brother. And herself, the objective, logical and ambitious attorney who’d fallen in love with them both.
Maybe she should be writing soap operas, she thought as she dropped down on the couch. She curled up her legs, cupping her mug in both hands. If she had the imagination for that, at least she might be able to write herself out of this situation.
Oh, how had it happened? she wondered, and closed her tired eyes. She was the one who had had things aligned so clearly. Hadn’t she always known exactly where she was going and how she was going to get there? Every obstacle that could possibly block her path had been considered and weighed. All the options, all the ways of going around or through those obstacles, had been calculated.
All of them.
Except Zackary Muldoon.
By becoming involved with him, by letting her emotions rule her head, she’d made a mess of everything. It was entirely possible that Nick, pumped by hurt and frustration, would race headlong into trouble before the night was over. However understanding and compassionate Judge Beckett was, if Nick broke his probation, she would have no choice but to sentence him.
Even if the sentence was light, how could she forgive herself? How could Zack forgive her for failing? And, worst of all, how could Nick rebound from that final rejection when society put him behind bars?
She wanted to believe he’d go back to Zack. Angry, yes…defiant, certainly…maybe even spoiling for a fight. All those things could be dealt with, if only he went back.
But if he didn’t…
The sound of her buzzer had her jolting. Well aware that it was after midnight, she unfolded herself, hoping it was Zack coming by to tell her Nick was safe and sound.
“Yes?”
“I want to come up.”
It was Nick’s voice, edgy and demanding. Rachel had to bite back a cry of relief. “Sure.” She kept her tone light as she released the lock. “Come ahead.”
She pressed her fingers against her eyes to push back the tears that filled them. It was stupid to get so emotional. Hadn’t logic told her he’d have to come back? Hadn’t she said as much to Zack?
But when the knock rapped sharply at her door, she was swinging it open, and the words were tumbling out. “I was so worried. I was going to go after you, but I didn’t know where to start to look. Oh, Nick, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry it blew up in your face?” He shoved the door closed behind him. He hadn’t intended to come here, but he’d been walking, walking. Then it had seemed like the only place to go. “Sorry I came in and found you with Zack?”
It was far from over, Rachel realized. What she saw in his eyes was just as dangerous as what had been in them when he’d leaped across the office at Zack. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“You’re sorry I found out what you really are. You’re nothing but a liar.”
“I never lied to you.”
“Every time you opened your mouth.” He hadn’t moved away from the door, and his hands were balled into fists, white-knuckled, at his side. “You and Zack. The whole time you were pretending to care about me, acting as if you liked being with me, you were making it with him.”
“I do care—” she began, but he cut her off.
“I can see what a kick the two of you must’ve gotten out of it. Poor, pathetic Nick, mooning around, trying to make something of himself because he had a case on the sexy lawyer. I guess the two of you lay in bed and laughed yourself sick.”
“No. It was never like that.”
“Are you going to tell me you didn’t go to bed with him?”
He saw the truth in her eyes before her own temper kicked in. “You’re out of line. I’m not going to discuss—”
His hands shot out, snatching the lapels of her robe and swinging her around. Her back rammed hard into the door. The first bubble of fear evaporated in her throat as Nick pushed his face close to hers. All she could see was his eyes, sharp green and glinting with fury.
“Why did you do it? Why did you have to make a fool out of me? Why did it have to be my brother?”
“Nick.” She had his wrists now, and she tried to drag them away. But rage had added weight to his sinewy strength.
“Do you know how it makes me feel to know that while I was imagining us you were with him? And he knew. He knew.”
Her breath was hitching, but she fought to control it. “You’re hurting me.”
She thought the statement would come out calm, even authoritative. Instead, it was shaky, and the fear underneath it clear even in his reckless state. His eyes went blank for a moment, then focused on his hands. They were digging into her shoulders. Appalled, he pulled them away and stared at her.
“I’m going.”
Sometimes all you had was impulse. Rachel went with it and pressed her back against the door. “Don’t. Please. Don’t go like this.”
There was a churning in his stomach that was pure self-loathing. “I never pushed a woman around before. It’s as low as it gets.”
“You didn’t hurt me. I’m okay.”
What she was, he noted, was deathly pale. “You’re shaking.”
“Okay, I’m shaking. Can we sit down?”
“I shouldn’t have come here, Rachel. I shouldn’t have jumped on you that way.”
“I’m glad you came. Let’s leave it at that for a minute. Please, let’s sit down.”
Because he was afraid she’d stay pressed against the door trembling until he agreed, he nodded. “You’ve got some things to toss back at me. I figure I owe you that.” As he sat, his shoulders slumped. “I guess you’ll ask to be taken off the case.”
“That has nothing to do with this. But no.” She thought about picking up her cold tea, but she was afraid her hands weren’t steady enough. “This is personal, Nick. I’m the one who screwed up by blurring the lines. I knew better. There’s no excuse.” Inhaling deeply, she linked her fingers in her lap. “What happened between Zack and me wasn’t planned, and it certainly wasn’t professional.”
He gave a quick snort. “Now you’re going to tell me you couldn’t help yourself.”
“No,” she said quietly. “I could have. There’s always a choice. I didn’t want to help myself.”
Her answer, and the tone of it, had him frowning. He’d been certain she would try to find an easy way out. “So, you chose him.”
“What happened was immediate, and maybe a little overwhelming…” She wasn’t certain there were words to describe what had happened between her and Zack. “In any case, I could have stopped it. Or at least postponed it. I didn’t, and that fault lies with me. The fact that we were both your guardians made it a poor call, but—” She shook her head. “No buts. It was a poor call.” Her eyes met his, pleaded for trust. “We never thought of you as poor or pathetic. We never laughed at you. Whatever you think of me, don’t let it ruin what you’ve started to get back with Zack.”
“He moved in on me.”
“Nick.” Her voice held both patience and compassion. “He didn’t. You know he didn’t.”
He did know, wondered if he had always known, that his relationship with Rachel had never been anything more than a fantasy. But knowing it didn’t ease the raw wounds of rejection.
“I cared about you.”
“I know.” Her eyes filled again, and spilled over before she could prevent it. “I’m sorry.”
“God, Rachel. Don’t.” He didn’t think he could stand it. First he’d terrified her, and now he was making her cry. “Don’t do that.”
“I won’t.” But as quickly as she swiped at the tears, more fell. “I just feel so lousy about it all. When I look back, I can see a dozen ways I should’ve handled things. I’m usually in control.” Her breath hitched as she fought for composure. “I hate, I really hate, that I’ve come between the two of you.”
“Hey, come on.” He was totally at a loss. When he rose to cross to her, he was surprised he didn’t leave a trail of slime on her rug. “Listen, take it easy, okay?” He patted her shoulder awkwardly. “I’ve been dumped before.”
All that did was force her to fumble in the pocket of her robe for a tissue. “Don’t hate him because of this.”
“Don’t ask for miracles.”
“Oh, Nick, if you could only see through all the mistakes to what you mean to him.”
“No lectures.” Since her tears seemed to be drying up, he felt he could take a stand on that. “You carry on like you’re in love with him.” He was stunned when he saw the look in her eyes, the miserable, heartsick look, before they filled again. “Oh, man.” While she crumpled into sobs, he readjusted his thinking. “You mean it’s not just sex?”
“It was supposed to be.” His arm went around her tentatively, and she leaned into it. “Oh, God, how did I get into all this? I don’t want to be in love with anybody.”
“That’s rough.” It occurred to Nick that he was holding her close but there weren’t any tingles or tugs. The hell of it was, he was feeling almost brotherly. No one had ever cried on his shoulder before, or looked to him for support. “How about him? Is he stuck in the same groove?”
“I don’t know.” She sniffled, blew her nose. “We haven’t talked about it. We aren’t going to talk about it. The whole thing’s ridiculous. I’m ridiculous.” Thoroughly ashamed, she eased back. “Let’s just say it’s been an emotional night all around. Please, don’t say anything to him about this.”
“I figure that’s up to you.”
“Good. I appreciate it.” Still shaky, she wiped at a stray tear with the back of her hand. “Don’t hate me too much.”
“I don’t hate you.” He leaned back, suddenly exhausted. “I don’t know what I feel. Maybe I thought I could come up here tonight and prove to you I was the better man. Pretty s
tupid.”
“You’re both pretty special,” she told him. “Why else would a nice, sensible woman like me fall for both of you?”
He turned his head to give her a weak smile. “You sure can pick ’em.”
“Yeah.” She touched his cheek. “I sure can. Tell me you’re going back.”
His lips flattened. “Where else would I go?”
That didn’t satisfy her. “Tell me you’re going back to talk things through with him, to work things out.”
“I can’t tell you that.”
When he started to stand, she took his hand. “Let me go back with you. I want to help. I need to feel as though I’ve made some of this up to the two of you.”
“You didn’t do anything but fall for the wrong guy.”
She took a great deal of comfort from the familiar smirk. “You may be right. Let me come anyway.”
“Suit yourself. You might want to wash your face. Your eyes are red.”
“Great. Give me five minutes.”
Rachel could feel Nick start to tense up half a block from Lower the Boom. His shoulders were hunched, his brows were lowered, his hands were jammed in his pockets.
Typical, she thought. The male animal ruffles his fur and bares his teeth to show the opposing male how tough he is.
She kept the observation to herself, knowing neither of these males would appreciate it.
“Here’s the idea,” she said, pausing by the door. “It was a pretty slow night, and it’s already after one. We’ll wait until the bar closes, and you two can say your piece. I’ll be mediator.”
Nick wondered if she had any idea how hard it was for him to face what was on the other side of that door. “Whatever.”
“And if there are any punches thrown,” she added as she pulled the door open, “I’ll throw them.”
That brought the ghost of a smile to his face. It faded as soon as they stepped in.
Rachel had been right. It was a slow night, as it often was in the middle of the week. Most of the regulars had already headed off to home and hearth. A few diehards lingered at the bar, which Zack was manning alone. Lola was busy wiping down the tables. She glanced up, shot Rachel a satisfied look, then went back to work.