“We had no trouble dealing with the Tildens until you arrived on the scene, Cormack!” snarled Wade.
“I don’t believe that,” Quint countered. “Sarah told me that Dana told her otherwise.”
“What are you, Gossip Central?” Rachel found her voice. “Oh, just when I think you can’t possibly get any worse, you manage to sink to a new low!”
“This is the thanks I get for coming to this insult masquerading as a meeting?” Quint arched his dark brows. “I’ll keep that in mind the next time I’m tempted to do a favor for Saxon Associates.”
“A favor? Is that what you think your presence here today was?” Eve was incredulous. “A favor to us?”
“Wasn’t it?” Quint asked Rachel, but all three Saxons replied to the question in a forceful chorus.
“No!”
Quint shrugged. “Typical lawyers, hmm? Why agree on a point when you can argue over it?” He strode jauntily from the conference room.
“He actually thinks he did a good deed for us today.” Eve was still mulling that over. “We’ve lost the Tildens as clients, and he seems to think we should thank him.”
“So, what now, Aunt Eve?” Wade sank into a chair. “Do you think the Tildens will reconsider their decision to dump us?”
“Never.” Eve sighed. “They surrendered unconditionally this afternoon and hold us responsible for it. Misty has prevailed, thanks to Quinton Cormack, who’s proven himself to be both wily and relentless. The Tildens don’t have the time or energy to take on Cormack and that will, and he knows it. He’s made it clear that he’ll counter any move that’s made, he will not back down or go away, he’ll only make things worse. They’re not used to that.”
“Let’s face it, neither are we.” Wade was blunt.
“No, we aren’t, are we? We took our practice and our status for granted, we were passive when we should have been proactive, and we gave Quinton Cormack the priceless gift of underestimating him at every turn.” Eve’s voice grew thick. She cleared her throat and then glanced purposefully at her watch. “You’ll have to excuse me, I have some calls to make.”
“Are we really to blame, Aunt Eve?” Rachel asked, troubled. “I mean, about the property being transferred to joint names and the new will …” Her voice trailed off.
Eve paused on the threshold. “As Wade pointed out, Town Senior made his own decisions without consulting us. But we should have known there would be a new will. In hindsight, I should have visited the old man and tried to advise him or convince him to confide in me. I guess the same holds true for the change in the property title. It is a matter of public record. We would’ve known the house was in joint name and out of the estate, if we’d checked into it. I suppose a case could be made for some negligence on our part.”
She turned, leaving the conference room and the two cousins together.
“We’re lawyers, not spies!” Rachel protested.
“Well, Quint Cormack is both. Sloane got that part right, much as it galls me to admit it. I wonder if she waited around outside for him?” Wade’s lips quirked into a malevolent smile.
“She’s just the type who would,” Rachel muttered fiercely.
“Wouldn’t it be a kick if those two got together? Actually, they deserve each other, they’d win hands down as the couple from hell,” Wade added, his tone heartfelt.
Sloane and Quint together? Rachel paled. The very idea won hands down as her own personal hell.
Doubts assailed her. She pictured Quint leaving this office brimming with the confidence of a conquering gladiator, unaffected by her insults, clearly not feeling worried or threatened or sorry that she was furious with him. Because he didn’t care?
She thought about their whirlwind romance, if that’s what it was. Maybe Quint was the whirlwind himself, impelled to move on from one quick fling to another. He had admitted to his impulsivity with the equally impetuous Sharolyn, resulting in little Brady. Suppose there were others, many others? Not children, but flings, women he’d used and swiftly cast off.
What did she really know about Quinton Cormack, except that he was a talented, insightful lawyer, a determined competitor who refused to lose? And didn’t.
True, he was a devoted father and brother, she’d seen proof of that, but his past relationships with women suddenly loomed as mysterious, a cause for suspicion. He was kind to Carla, whom he considered family, and Misty, a valuable client, but wasn’t it possible that he viewed those two more as vested interests than women?
Did she really know what Quint considered her or how he viewed her? Rachel wondered with painful uncertainty. He’d made it obvious that he wanted her sexually, and she’d jumped into bed with him with uncharacteristic haste. She’d felt things with him, for him, that she had never thought to experience. But what if—
“Well, well, it’s déjà vu all over again.” Wade’s voice cut through her increasingly disturbing reverie. He had moved to the window and was staring outside. “Take a look at the gruesome twosome down there in the parking lot. Sloane is hanging all over Cormack, the way she used to do with Tim Sheely. Except Tim would shake her off like a dog with a flea.”
Which implied that Quint was not shaking her off. Rachel dragged herself over to the window, though she really didn’t want to see what was out there.
As she suspected, it was not a pretty sight. Nauseating was a more applicable description. Several stories below, Sloane Tilden Lloyd was sending Quint Cormack a plethora of “I’m available and willing” signals, listed in every women’s magazine Rachel had ever read.
Sloane seemed to know them all. Touching his arm with her hand. Flirtatiously cocking her head to one side. Slithering ever closer, her face bright and animated.
Since Quint’s back was to them, his responses could not be detected but the fact that he remained there was damning enough for Rachel. “I’d like to kill him!”
“Yeah, you always did have a penchant for public service,” Wade murmured dryly.
He folded his arms in front of his chest and gazed at his cousin. “Hey, Rach, I’ve been meaning to ask you about Laurel. I drove her to your place on Friday night after she’d had a big fight with Gerald. Is everything okay with the two of them?”
Laurel. Snowy. Rachel flinched. “I don’t know.” Her voice quavered. She really should have called her sister yesterday, but she’d been too involved with the Cormacks all day and Quint all night and hadn’t bothered. “Laurel isn’t acting like herself at all.”
Of course, Quint would dispute that statement with his “what you do is what you are” creed. Which meant that his actions—flirting with the brazen Sloane, taking what she was so obviously offering—labeled him as a backstabbing, opportunistic womanizer.
“Remember what Aunt Eve always said about Laurel marrying way too young and Gerald being way too old for her? Seems like she was right, hmm? I feel bad for Snowy if things get ugly.” Wade looked sad. “She’s such a cute little kid.”
“All we can do is be there for Snowy. We can’t control either Laurel or Gerald,” murmured Rachel. When she realized she was quoting that snake Quinton Cormack, she lapsed into silence. He’d gotten into her head, as quickly and completely as he’d entered her body.
The flagrant admission galled her, terrified her, too. If she hadn’t seized the world atlas, perched on its tall stand in the corner, and sent it flying across the room, Rachel knew she would’ve started to cry. Anger was certainly preferable to blubbering over a man.
The atlas hit the wall and landed askew, its pages open and bent.
“You don’t mess around when you’re mad, you trash the whole word!” Wade smiled his approval. “Think it would work for me?”
“Be my guest.” Rachel invited and Wade picked up the ill-fated atlas.
Before he had a chance to take his turn heaving it, Eve poked her head into the conference room. “I’m leaving early this afternoon. In fact, I’m on my way out now. Carry on, you two.” Her face was flushed, her eyes bright.<
br />
She appeared much happier than either her niece or nephew, and her buoyant stride as she left the office was not unlike the effervescent Katie’s. Certainly, Eve Saxon didn’t look like an attorney whose firm had just suffered the loss of a major, major client. A bewildered Wade shared his observations with Rachel.
Who had no reply at all. Rachel was mired in a morass of sadness, confusion, and fury. Not a good place to be. The beneficial effects of her atlas-tossing therapy had proven to be incredibly short-lived. She solemnly took the book from Wade, smoothed its pages, and returned it to its proper position.
Wade decided that since his legal career was heading south—he figured metaphorically it was somewhere close to the tip of Argentina about now—it was definitely time to concentrate on his personal life. Which meant getting it right with Dana Sheely and fixing whatever had gone wrong between the ecstasy and closeness of last night and her icy aloofness over the phone this morning.
What had gone wrong? If only he knew! The more he thought about it, his original hypothesis—that Dana had taken offense because he’d asked her to intercede with her boss in the Tilden fiasco—just didn’t seem plausible. So now he was left without a single clue.
The real problem was, he had no experience in maintaining a smooth, ongoing relationship with a woman. Women came and went in his life, and he didn’t care. Certainly, he’d never wondered about their feelings and what role he might play in determining them. So he was essentially a novice, as virginal in the arena of love as Dana had been in sex.
Except she’d been an exceptionally fast learner who could excite and please him more than any of his experienced past lovers. He thought of last night with her, and a sharp rush of memoried pleasure tightened his body. He had to resort to reciting multiplication tables as he drove to the Sheely home to quell his all-too-evident arousal.
It was close to dinnertime at the Sheelys, and the smell of Mary Jean Sheely’s delicious pot roast filled his nostrils as he hurried up the porch stairs. Sarah and Matt were sitting on the wooden bench swing on the porch, holding hands, while Brendan indulgently played a two-year-old’s version of soccer with little Brady Cormack in the front yard.
“Cormack’s kid is mooching another meal off your folks, huh?” Wade grumbled to Sarah. He knew the entire Sheely clan adored Sarah’s little charge, but he did not share their enchantment with the Cormack spawn. Baby rats might be cute but, ultimately, they grew up to be rodents.
“Come on, Wade, just ‘cause you don’t like Quint, don’t take it out on Brady.” Sarah was stern.
“I guess Cormack is out celebrating his Tilden Will victory tonight.” Wade grimaced at the thought of the profound Saxon defeat. “Maybe with his busty, lusty protégé Misty?”
“Of course not! Quint is—” Sarah broke off, giving Wade a strange look. “Uh, busy tonight. But not with Misty.”
“Misty is celebrating her victory with Shawn,” Matt said glumly. “In ways I don’t even want to imagine.”
“Dinner won’t be ready for a while, sit down and talk to us, Wade,” invited Sarah, sliding closer to Matt to make room for Wade on the swing.
Sheelys never minded crowding together to make room for one more. Wade sat down next to Sarah. “So you talked to Shawn about Misty again today, huh?”
“Wish we hadn’t.” Matt scowled. “I think the guy’s obsessed with her. Is that possible, or does it only happen in horror movies?”
“Sometimes reality is stranger than fiction, and money aside, Misty’s appeal must be awfully potent,” Wade replied wryly. “It seems to span the decades, from ninetysomething Town Tilden Senior to our own twenty-something Shawn.”
“Shh!” Sarah cautioned. “I hear Anthony coming.”
The trio on the swing quickly switched to another topic, the upcoming Phillies-Pirates three-game series.
Anthony Sheely, dressed all in black, joined them on the porch. It was hard to be dark, brooding and alienated in the bustling Sheely clan, but Anthony worked hard to keep up his chosen image. “I just can’t take it anymore,” he announced dramatically.
“Join the club, kid,” drawled Wade.
Matt was kinder. “What’s wrong, Anth?”
“Megan Sperry is what’s wrong.” Anthony heaved a morose sigh. “I have to eat lunch with her and her friends at their table in the cafeteria instead of with my friends, I have to hang out after school with her instead of with my buds, and I’m supposed to call her every night, no matter what’s on TV.”
“So don’t call her,” Wade advised.
“If I don’t, then she calls me! She’s even figured out to use the emergency break-in excuse on Emily.” Anthony groaned. “I hate having a girlfriend. It’s like—like homework! In fact, she likes us to do our homework together over the phone.” He made a gagging sound.
Wade chuckled.
“You’re too young to be involved with anyone, Anthony,” a sagely Matt explained. “Do the girl and yourself a favor and break up with her.”
“But do it nicely,” warned Sarah. “None of this ‘I don’t like you anymore’ stuff like Brendan does. He’s awful to girls, as bad as Wa—” She caught herself and flushed guiltily, casting a covert glance at Wade.
“I know you mean me,” Wade said. “And I admit, I’ve had a bad track record with women in the past.”
“I’ll say!” Sarah heartily agreed. “Tricia says your bad reputation with women is probably the biggest reason why—” she broke off with a startled gasp. “God, what’s the matter with me today? I’m getting as blabby as Katie!”
“Definitely not a good thing.” Matt affectionately rubbed her neck.
“What did Tricia say about me?” Wade demanded. “I thought we were friends.”
“You are,” Sarah assured him. “You’re friends with all of us, you know that, Wade.”
“Especially Tim and Dana,” added Anthony.
It was Wade’s turn to feel a guilty flush spread slowly across his face. “Uh, speaking of Dana, is she around?”
Not a bad segue, he congratulated himself. Cool. Subtle. He hadn’t even had to mention her name first. Now he could amble into the house to see her—and hopefully, her mom would invite him to stay for dinner. The intoxicating aroma of pot roast was making his stomach growl with hunger.
“No, Dana left. She had a date with that guy—what’s his name?” Anthony searched his memory.
“Rich Vicker?” Wade gritted through his teeth.
“Yeah, him,” agreed Anthony.
Wade abruptly stood up, sending the swing wildly into motion. Matt and Sarah clamped their feet on the ground to halt it. “Do you know where they went?”
“Somewhere to eat,” Sarah told him. “Daddy says Rich Vicker has a digestive system that ought to be studied by medical science. He can eat anything and has never even needed a Rolaid.”
Wade did not want to hear one word about Rich Vicker’s attributes. Who cared about that jerk’s superb digestive tract? His own stomach was now roiling with outrage, displacing the earlier hunger pangs. What in the hell did Dana think she was doing? Sleeping with one man while dating another!
“What restaurant?” he demanded.
Anthony gave him an indifferent how-should-I-know look. Matt and Sarah stared at him curiously.
“You could ask Daddy,” Sarah suggested, her lips curving into a smile. “He probably knows.”
“Bet money on it,” joked Matt. “Mr. Sheely makes a point of grilling his daughters’ dates—till they become fiancés. Then the inquisition eases up a little,” he added, grinning.
Wade charged into the house, almost colliding with Emily who was walking through the hall clutching the portable phone, in the midst of an animated discusssion. He found Bob and Mary Jean Sheely in the kitchen. As usual, they greeted him warmly.
“We just heard the most wonderful news!” Mary Jean’s face was aglow. “We’re going to be grandparents again!”
Wade was momentarily diverted by the announcement. “T
im and Lisa are having another baby?”
“No, Mary Jo is pregnant!” exclaimed Mary Jean. “She broke into Emily’s call to tell us. She bought one of those pregnancy test kits from the drugstore that confirmed it. We’re just thrilled for her and Steve!”
It was at least another ten minutes before Wade could get a word in edgewise. Bob and Mary Jean wanted to talk about their secondborn, Mary Jo, who’d won a scholarship to nursing school, graduated to work in the neuro–intensive care unit where she’d met and married Steve, a successful neurosurgeon and genuinely nice guy who’d managed to stay single because he was both shy and determined not to wed until he’d repaid all his medical-school loans. He had just been pronounced debt-free when he met and fell hard for sweet, outgoing Mary Jo Sheely.
Wade remembered their wedding quite well. Bob and Mary Jean had been in a state of euphoria. He guessed that having a gainfully employed daughter who married a doctor—without debts!—was about as good as it got for any girl’s parents. And now there was to be another member of the next generation of Sheelys.
Wade was happy for them … but had heard enough about darling Mary Jo. “I understand Dana is out with Vicker tonight,” he cut in, just as Mary Jean mentioned Tim’s name.
He knew that another ten minutes of accolades were likely to follow and as much as he valued his best friend, he just couldn’t spare the time to listen. His first priority was Dana. “Do you know where they are?”
“At that new restaurant, the Library.” Bob supplied the information. “It opened a couple weeks ago, I read about it in the paper. It’s out on Route 70 and is trying to compete with the likes of Restaurant Row in Philadephia.”
“The Library,” repeated Wade. He would call the place on his car phone and find out its exact location on 70.
“It’s supposed to specialize in French food,” continued Bob. “And classic American, whatever that is. Of course, it won’t matter to Rich Vicker, who could probably drink water straight from a jungle river and never even get a cramp. His stomach is a medical marvel and his intestines—well, there’s something worth cloning!”
When Lightning Strikes Twice Page 31