by Erin Lyon
“And she said yes.”
“’Cause he’s Tony.”
“Which I will never get.”
“So you told Adam he needed to warn his mom?”
“Something like that.”
“And that was it?”
“Yep. Until his mother sent him over that night to light my pilot light.”
Logek laughed. “Um. Excuse me?”
I sighed. “Yeah. Unfortunately, just the pilot light on the stove. So he came, fixed the oven, I burned chicken, and he took me to In-N-Out Burger. So, what happened with Derek?”
“Well, he ‘lit my pilot light,’ too.” No fair. Pretty sure her pilot light getting lit was a lot more exciting than mine.
“Uh-oh. As good as you remember?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Well, that’s something. Talked to Daniel at all?”
“No. He didn’t put up with my brush-off for long. Which I respect.”
“Good for Daniel,” I said.
“So, was there much in-n-outing at In-N-Out the other night?”
I laughed. “As if I could ever, in my life, have sex with Adam Lucas and not call you afterward so we could talk about it.”
“And don’t you forget it,” Logek said.
“Pretty sure we won’t be having that phone call, however.”
“Never say never.”
* * *
Saturday morning, Dave texted me about our date.
How about we go to Lucille’s tonight? Good food and they have live blues bands on Saturday nights?
Sure. Blues, biscuits and beer. Sounds like a perfect night:)
Pick you up at 7:30?
Yep.
I was dressed and ready for my date when I got another text. From Adam this time.
Hi Kate. Just wanted to follow up and let you know that my mom went out with Tony last night. I don’t think they are planning on moving in together or anything, so—so far so good.
I chuckled.
That’s a relief.
What are you up to?
Going out with Dave.
Where are you two going?
Lucille’s. Live blues:)
Have a good time. Talk to you later.
Bye.
Well, he didn’t seem too put off by my admitting that I had a date with Dave. But a girl can hope.
Dave was there by 7:15. I was in jeans and my city slicker cowboy boots (meaning they were a little too clean and I had bought them at Nordstrom). I had an old red Windbreaker that was lightweight enough for the evening, so I slipped it on and headed toward the door.
“Are you going to wear that?”
I looked at him, a little confused at first, then glanced down at my jacket. “I was going to. Why?”
He smiled like he thought he was being funny, but I had the distinct impression he legitimately didn’t want to be seen with me in my out-of-fashion jacket. “I mean—it’s fine,” he said.
My mouth may have been hanging open a little. I was no Tyra Banks, but I’d never considered myself a fashion victim, either. I looked at my jacket again. Okay, so I’d had it since I was twenty-five. It just never occurred to me that it had reached the level of embarrassment. I was offended, of course, but also second-guessing my own judgment in still wearing the thing.
“Look,” he said. “It’s just not that cold. I don’t think you’ll need it.”
I slipped it off and headed out the door, probably looking a little like a kicked dog. I was quiet on the way to the restaurant.
“You look beautiful,” he said, taking my hand.
As long as I’m not in my hideous Windbreaker, apparently.
“Are you mad at me?” he asked.
I frowned at him. “I guess I just never realized you were such a snob.”
“What? I’m not a snob.”
I looked at him. His hair was perfect, his jeans undoubtedly cost more than mine, his truck was top of the line. Yeah, guess I should have picked up on this sooner.
“If you say so,” I said.
He sighed loudly like I was being moody and high maintenance. Which I so wasn’t. But I was pretty damn annoyed.
We got to the restaurant and headed inside to the bar area. We grabbed a high-top table and ordered a couple of beers. The band was already playing. They were five guys in their fifties, of all different races, tearing it up on the guitar, harmonica, and drums. I’m a blues fan, and they were really good, so it sort of diffused my annoyance, and before I knew it I was smiling and tapping my feet.
“So, how’s work,” Dave asked, leaning close and speaking loudly so that I could hear him over the music.
“Good, actually. I can’t believe I’ve been there three weeks already.”
“That’s right. We’ve been dating for three weeks.”
“We’ve known each other for three weeks.”
He frowned at me. “Our first kiss was three weeks ago tonight.”
Yay for Kate kissing total strangers within hours of meeting them! Tramp. “That’s right. It was.”
He smiled. “I still think we should agree to not see other people.”
He was right back to harping on this subject again. I did like Dave, though. He was cute and sexy and made me feel good about myself. Well, he had, anyway. Until he decided to be a dick about my clothing choices. But regardless of whether I liked him or not, I was uncomfortably aware of the fact that he was still placing a distant third among the men in my life. I just couldn’t see him pulling some dark horse comeback where I’d find myself madly in love with him.
Dave reached over and grasped my hand, which was resting against my beer mug, and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it.
I sighed. “Dave…”
“Kate,” I heard, from behind me.
Holy shit. After a moment of paralysis, I turned around to find Adam standing behind me. “Hi. What are you doing here?” Because when he told me to have fun on my date, he certainly didn’t sound like he was thinking of crashing it.
He smiled his glorious smile. He was in jeans and a blue button-down shirt that he left untucked. He pointed toward the band. “There’s live blues, Kate.” Like that should be sufficient explanation for everything.
“Good to see you, Dave,” Adam said, reaching over to shake Dave’s hand.
“You, too, buddy. So what brings you here?”
“The owner’s a client. He’s been telling me to come by for months, so I finally decided to.”
“No other reason?” Dave asked.
Adam looked at him a moment, expressionless. “No other reason.”
“Oh,” Dave said, turning back to the band.
Adam raised his eyebrows to me but I just shrugged. I had no idea what crawled up Dave’s butt, either.
“Um. Do you want to join us?” I asked. Dave may be acting like an ass, but I still had manners.
“Well, uh, I don’t want to interrupt your evening.”
“It really isn’t a problem,” I said casually.
“Dave?” Adam asked, his eyebrows raised.
Dave turned on a little TV Dave and faked a smile. “Sure. The more, the merrier.”
I felt like there was a decent chance I was going to hear about this later. Oh well. It would have been rude to blow Adam off. Even if I was physically capable of doing so—to which, let’s be real, all evidence is to the contrary.
Adam pulled out the stool next to me and casually perched on the edge of it, giving the impression he didn’t intend to stay long.
“So, any more problems with the oven?” Adam asked.
“Nope.” I could feel Dave focus on me, but I ignored him. “Any word on the partner front?”
“Nah. Not yet. Hopefully I’ll hear by next week.”
“Well, I’m keeping my fingers crossed for you.”
He smiled. “I know you are.”
Dave was not taking Adam’s intrusion into our date well—or the fact that we had clearly been in communication recently—so he was qu
iet. And being obnoxiously obvious about it.
“Well, I think I’ll let you two get back to your date,” Adam said, standing up from his stool.
Now Dave perked up. Ass. He reached over and shook Adam’s hand. “Thanks, man. Take care.”
Adam smiled. If he was offended, it didn’t show. He gave my shoulder a brief squeeze. “Good to see you, Kate.”
“Good night, Adam.”
Once Adam was gone, Dave turned to me with an annoyed expression on his handsome face. I didn’t care for the combination.
“What?” I asked.
“You really couldn’t stay away from him for even one night?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re supposed to be on a date with me.”
“I am on a date with you,” I said. Which feels kind of unfortunate at the moment.
“I just think it would be nice if you didn’t invite other guys out on our date.”
“What?” Okay, I sounded a little shrill. “Just because I invited him to sit with us?”
He raised his eyebrows at me. “Just asked him to sit down?”
“Okay. I’m really confused. What the hell are you talking about?”
“Sure, sure. Just another famous Kate Shaw coincidence.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about, but I don’t care for your attitude.”
He rolled his eyes at me and shook his head.
“We should go,” I said.
“Fine,” he replied. He tossed some cash onto the table for our drinks and headed outside, with me a step behind him.
We drove in silence back to my place. He didn’t turn off the truck, so he obviously wasn’t thinking about coming inside. Fine with me.
“Good night,” I said, as I climbed out of the truck.
“’Night.”
Once I was out and the truck door was closed, he drove away. Wow. He’s really pissed. And I was entirely at a loss as to how I’d managed to do it. It was giving me a weird mix of anger and hurt feelings.
By the time I was in my comfy clothes with a glass of wine, my phone was buzzing with a text from Dave.
You know—part of the reason I liked you so much was that you didn’t play games. Guess I was wrong about that.
What the hell?
I honestly don’t know what you are talking about.
Seriously? I’m talking about you having Adam meet us tonight.
I did NOT ask him to meet us.
Yeah. Just a coincidence I’m sure.
He texted me earlier about something else and then asked what I was up to. I told him WE were going to Lucille’s. He said have fun. End of story.
Of course. Because telling him where we’d be wasn’t because you wanted him to meet up with us.
It wasn’t. I never suggested he come out and he didn’t sound like it crossed his mind.
You tell yourself that.
He didn’t believe me. That revelation made me a little queasy. Beyond the occasional No, Mom, I love your haircut little white lie, I’m super honest. The number of times I’ve had anyone accuse me of lying, I could count on one hand. And those occasions always tie my stomach into knots. But the hard part was that I did tell Adam where we’d be … what Dave doubted was my reason for doing so. And how do you defend your intentions when only you know what they were for sure?
Dave I’m telling you—I did not mean for Adam to show up. Really.
Okay.
You think I’m lying?
I don’t know. Maybe you’re lying to yourself.
I was sitting on my sofa, staring at my phone. I was breathing a little rapidly and my face was flushed. He didn’t believe me. Okay. I was trying to muster up enough anger to overshadow the hurt and confusion, but it wasn’t working. Yeah, yeah, I know I should be pissed. And I am. But I couldn’t seem to stop the knots in my stomach or the fact that my eyes were welling up with tears.
I set the phone down. I’m not about to plead with him to believe me. I’ve already done more of that than he deserves.
CHAPTER 8
By Monday, at work, I was still spending too much time thinking about my fight with Dave. I wasn’t trying to get Adam to show up at Lucille’s and I was still mad at Dave for not believing me when I told him so. I’d also realized that, given how cynical Dave was about women, how could I not think he’d question my motives? But screw that. He was not supposed to question my intentions, because I had told him, sincerely, what they were. I was definitely letting it get to me too much, considering I wasn’t all that serious about Dave, but the questioning my honesty thing was bugging me like having a popcorn kernel stuck between my tooth and gum.
Mags to the rescue. She trotted into my office in a little yellow, vintage-looking suit, which, if the skirt hadn’t been short and snug, would have seemed a little out of character for her.
I smiled at her. “Love the suit.”
“Thanks, boss,” she said, hopping onto the edge of my desk. “How was your weekend?”
I shrugged. “It was okay. How was yours?”
“Pretty good,” she said, smiling and making her eyebrows go up and down suggestively.
“Mm. Sounds better than mine.”
“Because?” she asked, doing the drawn-out, upward inflection at the end of the word.
I sneered a little. “Stupid fight with Dave. He’s pissed at me because Adam showed up while we were out on a date.”
She grinned but she looked like she was trying to subdue it. “You poor thing. But you have to expect accidentally double-booking once in a while when you keep spares lying around.”
“Brat.”
She laughed, climbed off the desk, and headed out to her cubicle.
A few minutes later, Mags buzzed me. “It’s Rochelle.”
“Okay. Wait! Is the hearing on or off right now? I can’t remember.”
“On. It’s next Tuesday.”
“Thanks.”
Mags connected the call.
“Hi, Rochelle.”
“Hi, Kate.”
“So, what’s up?”
“The hearing is on, right?”
“Yep. A week from tomorrow.” Please say good. Please say good.
“Perfect.” Even better.
“Well. That sounds fairly definitive. I’m thinking the new contract is off?”
“Way, way off. I will never understand how that man managed to keep reeling me back in.”
“Good for you. What changed?”
“No idea. I looked over at him at the dinner table last night, with his receding hairline and his stupid face, and I realized that I really just wanted to punch him.”
“But you didn’t, right? ’Cause I don’t practice that kind of law.”
Rochelle laughed. “No, I was a model of restraint. But I did tell him to get the hell out of my house.”
“Wow. How did that go over?”
She laughed. “I think he saw me—really saw me—for the first time. I’m pretty sure he’s never been as in love with me as when I was dumping him for good last night.”
I laughed. “Rochelle, I am really happy for you. You’ll have to give me some tips on this whole female empowerment thing you’ve got going.”
“Once I get it figured out, I definitely will.”
“So, I guess I’ll see you next Tuesday, one thirty p.m., Department Six.”
“I’ll be there. Thanks, Kate.”
“Bye, Rochelle.”
After I hung up, Mags stood up over her cube, facing me, and held out a fist with her thumb sticking up. Then she rotated it to her thumb pointing down.
I gave her a thumbs-up.
“Yes!” she said, before sitting back down, out of sight.
A little bit later, Jared stopped into my office.
“Good. You’re in a suit. Busy?”
“Not too bad. What’s up?”
“I can’t believe I’m asking again, being that you just covered for me, but could you possibly cover a hearing for
me this afternoon? I’ve had a client emergency crop up that I need to take care of.”
“Uh, sure. Nothing too complicated?”
“It’s a motion to compel discovery.” He set a file on the edge of my desk. “Just read their motion to compel and my opposition. Then let me know if you have any questions. The hearing is at two p.m.”
“Will do.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate it.”
Cool. The boss really appreciates it.
I read through the motion and the opposition. This would be my first hearing on a motion to compel, so I was a little nervous coming into it three hours before the hearing. And going solo.
The fight was over our client’s business records. Apparently she was the main breadwinner of the two and this guy was trying to argue that her business was an asset of the partnership, despite it being left out of the contract. Our client had started the business with her own funds before she met the guy, and the contract laid out nicely that what’s hers is hers and what’s his is his. My favorite kind of contract.
Jared’s opposition was awesome. Naturally. Pretty sure he used every euphemism for asshole while explaining in undisputable terms that our client’s business was not subject to discovery. And then he listed the twenty-five provisions of the contract that backed up that argument. This should be fun.
I ate my lunch and headed out early to court to give myself plenty of time. Unfortunately, I was in front of Judge Warner again, and I wasn’t entirely done blushing from the ex-boyfriend fiasco on Thursday. I pulled the battery from my phone and headed into the courtroom. I signed myself in and looked around the room. I’d checked out a picture of Beatrice Adams, our client, so thankfully I found her, no problem. I sat down next to her and introduced myself.
“Hi, Kate,” she said. “Jared told me he wouldn’t be here but that I was in good hands.” Beatrice had long, straight dark hair and reminded me of Elvira, Mistress of the Dark, a little. But she was also friendly and professional, despite her Goth vibe.
“James is over there,” she added, pointing across the room. I followed her gesture, and it looked like she was pointing at an eighty-year-old man with a bushy beard.
“Um, with the beard?”
She laughed. “No, that’s his attorney. James is on the other side of him.”
I leaned over a little farther but still couldn’t get a look at him. I shrugged so she knew he was still blocked. “So, I feel good about this hearing. I’ve reviewed all the moving papers and they have a very weak argument. The nice thing is that this judge is very no-nonsense and I think there’s a good chance he’s not going to be happy about this motion.”