by Dakota Gray
Yeah. I have work. It’s not a balm. I have to do it nonetheless. “I’ll be in my office to take that call.”
“Okay,” she says softly.
I inhale and exhale through my nostrils until I can nod to acknowledge her words. “Just give me a few minutes.”
“Duke,” she whispers.
“Gwen, you’re fired if you say anything else.”
“Yes, boss.”
I drag myself into my office. I keep up the appearance that I recognize my life, but it’s all fucked up. I don’t know what it is anymore. It’s Kennedy’s fault and I can’t bring myself to hate her for it.
But I’m going to fix it, every inch of it. I have to.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
My phone chirping wakes me up the next morning. The alerts are one on top of the other. I twist in my bed to check the clock on my nightstand, surprised I managed four hours of sleep. I rummage in my pants that I didn’t even bother to hang up.
It’s Gabriel.
I don’t want 2 tell U this.
Colin rolled by again.
She went off 2 have coffee w/him.
Just came back. He has her like against the car.
U no the way.
My hand seizes around my phone, because I sure as fuck know the way.
Shit. She saw me, but he def went N 4 kiss.
N bathroom.
She says if I send U another text, she’ll fire me.
Drop by after wrk 2 tell U everything.
I don’t know what a heart attack feels like but I think I’m having one. A three ton elephant has popped a squat on my chest. My left hand that’s gripping the phone is tingling from shoulder to wrist. My lungs believe breathing is optional and have quit.
Kennedy is moving on.
I can’t kill Colin now. Apparently he’s the guy who makes her happy. She wants to live the rest of her life in matching sweaters. She wants to have dinners while he shows her cat surgery pics. This is what I’ve done because I couldn’t tell her how exposed she made me feel. I’m so fucked up I’ve made Colin seem like a viable fucking option.
And Gabriel’s going to tell me in detail after work.
He’s going to tell me how Kennedy kissed Colin. Probably beamed at work for the rest of the day. Sighed when she thought about him.
That waits for me at Lance and Chase.
I’m not thinking when I dial the office. I’m only sure I’m breathing because I’m not dead. I can’t feel anything besides my skull doing its best to cave in on itself.
Sheila’s voice sounds like it’s fighting its way through the cotton in my ears. “Preston Lance’s office, Sheila speaking.”
“I’m coming down with something.”
“Alexander?”
How fucked I am? I don’t even flinch. “I might be out a few days.”
“This is Duke Alexander?” she asks again, the disbelief ringing in her voice.
“Who else would it be?”
She gasps. “Did your mother die?”
“No. Why are you asking?”
“A death of a parent is the only other time you’ve taken a day off of work in six years.”
How does she know that? I shake my head. “I can’t come in.”
There’s a pause. “Do you want me to call Gwen?”
“No. I just need all my work punted. She should know where all the active and pertinent files are. I’ll have her bring them to you or whatever you need. I...can’t come in.”
“Don’t worry about it. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I don’t know.” My left arm is still tingling and my chest, god, I can’t take in a deep breath. My stomach has decided to join in by getting that weird weightless feeling like I’m about to empty it out. I can’t go into work like this.
She’s moving on. Kissing Colin in parking lots. She’s going to look fantastic in sweaters. How could she not? She’d look good in a grocery bag.
She wants absolutely nothing to do with me and my stupid engraved fucking polka dots pens. She barely acknowledged my apology and why should she? I pushed her away. I fucked her then told her to leave. I fucked her because I couldn’t not touch her one last time. What heartless asshole does that?
There’s a buzzing in my ear, and I realize Shelia’s been talking this entire time.
“I have to go.”
“Okay, Duke. Take care of yourself.”
It’s bad when Sheila is being nice. I blew her off and ignored her since the club incident. Yet she feels sorry for me.
I crawl back under my covers. I force myself to close my eyes. If I stay awake I’m going to puke. My guts are churning and at least I won’t have to suffer through the nausea before it happens.
I’m not saved that dignity because thirty minutes later my phone refuses to stop ringing. It’s Gwen. I answer because I need to give her instructions and at least act like I’m still a goddamn attorney.
“What the hell you mean you’re not coming into work?”
I flinch. “Do you have any questions on what you’re supposed to do?”
“How long are you going to be gone?”
My clothes are on the floor, and I’m in bed at eight o’clock in the morning. My mind refuses to think about anything else but Colin’s lips on Kennedy’s. “I don’t know.”
“Sheila told me to punt all your cases. Is she lying to me? Did you screw her over too and she’s just trying to sabotage you?”
“Spread my workload between Harrison, Paul and Naden. They are decent attorneys. They won’t break anything I can’t fix.”
“Duke...”
That’s all she says, and that’s all that needs to be said. I get off the phone with her. I leave it on in case she needs anything, but I roll until my face is buried in a pillow.
I’m not going to bore you with the details. This is pretty much my life for the next twenty-four hours.
*****
It’s noon the next day when someone tries to knock my door off its hinges. It’s Gwen. She has food in one hand and files tucked under her other arm.
She blinks at the sight of me. “What’s wrong with your hair?”
“I showered this morning.”
“And then you did what?”
“Put on underwear and socks.” Which is what I still had on when I answered the door, yet her gaze has not moved from my head.
“But you have—”
“I’m aware.”
She stands there marveling at the sight of the curls on my head. “You should wear them in court. You look like a pushover.”
She looks behind me and her stare widens. “You own a white couch in the twenty-first century?”
I have got to get rid of that couch. “Gwen, did you want something?”
“The Sec sent me once word got out.”
I hadn’t thought of that, and on a scale of one to ten of giving a shit, it’s negative twenty. “Okay.”
“And I wanted to keep you updated.”
I think about that. “I don’t care.”
She slaps the files into my chest and makes her way to the coffee table. “I also talked to Gabriel. He came by around five yesterday. I could have ripped his head off.”
I glance down to my hallway. My bed is there, waiting for me. My knees aren’t strong as they should be. I don’t want to hear what Gabriel had to say. I don’t care. She’s moving on and I’m fucking gutted. I pinch the bridge of my nose and remind myself to breathe.
“Okay,” her voice is softer. “I’m not going to repeat what he said. I just want you to know that you should get your head out of your ass. Eat something. Work on something. Everything’s going to be all right. Come on. Come sit.”
I let her lead me to the couch. “Gwen, you should go.”
“I will after I make sure you eat.” She takes the files back out of my hand and places them next to the bag of food. “I know you like Reis’s sandwiches so I picked up a sub and some chips.”
“Why are you here?”
> “Because I’ve been working for you for a little over two years and you’ve never flaked on me before.”
“I didn’t flake. I’m ill.”
“Your heart’s broken. Stop being a drama queen. And it’s your own fault.” She unwraps the sandwich and shoves it into my hand. “Eat.”
I take in my paralegal. This is the face she has when I give her a pep talk before closing arguments. It’s her battle-ax face. If I don’t eat, she might shove the sandwich down my throat.
It’s in my best interest to take a bite. She visibly relaxes after the third one. “Can you leave now?” I ask her.
“You need to man up and make a plan. I’m sure you asked Nate and Tarek and they gave you serviceable advice for normal men.”
I manage to laugh. “You don’t know my friends.”
“Are your friends as bad as you?”
There’s no way I can answer that. “What do you suggest?”
“Put on some clothes. I would even consider shaving. Drive to Kennedy’s house. Wait for her. When she gets home tell her everything that’s been running in your head since yesterday morning.”
“Tell her everything? Even the stuff about—”
“Do not tell her how many times you thought about ending Colin’s existence. That’s not good or healthy, and she already thinks you have mob ties.”
That means Gwen and Kennedy have talked about me. She’s not revealing any confidences and that speaks to her loyalty. She’s making me eat, so I know at least some of that is for me.
I force myself to ask, “What if it’s not enough?”
“I know the kind of man you are and that’s what I told Kennedy when she came by this morning.”
“I wish you hadn’t. She’s—”
“Loyal as hell. It’s the one thing you guys have in common. She’s also not stupid. Colin is boring. Obsessed with his cats. He has a thing for Kennedy. That’s a one way street.”
The elephant gets off my chest. “She’s not moving on with him?”
“He kissed her. She rebuffed him. Gabriel has a big mouth and I could have choked him. You are not in the right space to get hit with that. You needed at least another week. Goddamn amateurs.”
I lift my brow. “Amateurs?”
She blinks. “What?”
I narrow my gaze on her. I put the sandwich down. “Have you been meddling?”
“No.” She takes the sandwich and breaks it in half then gives me the part I’ve already chewed. “You meddle. I do paralegal stuff.”
She takes a bite of her half the sandwich and tries to look innocent, but she’s my paralegal. She wouldn’t have survived this long without learning a thing or two from me.
“And when I stay home from work, what do you do?”
“Tell a certain person she’s broken you beyond repair.”
“And why would you do that?”
“I kept thinking back to when you were blindsided by Preston. He threw Gabriel at you. You were right. I knew. I let Preston get the drop on you because I thought you could take it. You know how the game is played. You’re an Alexander. By proxy you created all the rules.”
I swallow. “So?”
“But when you came to my desk I could see how much I hurt you. Not Duke Alexander, Esquire, but Duke. Just because you don’t wear your heart on your sleeve doesn’t mean you don’t have one. I felt like I owed you one.”
I pick up the sandwich. “You painted a picture of me being all pathetic.”
“You opened your door in your underwear and you have Gerber baby hair.”
I crack a smile. “I still feel like shit.”
“If she doesn’t take you back, you’re going to feel worse. I’ll do my best to be a good friend, and paralegal. Also, call Gabriel. I think he’s worried about you and feeling guilty.”
“When did I become a person with a mentee?”
“It was the bangs. You had to save him from them. He’s trying to grow them back. Just look at his hair with a dubious eye.”
“Like you’re looking at mine?”
She laughs. “It’s a bit traumatizing to realize you aren’t a hardass, you just pretend really well.”
“I pretend to be a bad guy?” I laugh at the notion.
“Eat your sandwich. Get dressed like a human being and stop pretending like you don’t love Kennedy. Tell her.” She perks up. “Think of it as your closing arguments. Line up the evidence—you have three years’ worth--punch holes in the other side’s argument.”
“It’s not about winning.”
“No. It’s not, but you’ve been going at this like a newb. If this was a court case you wouldn’t be sitting here looking depressed as hell. Now finish your sandwich. I have to get back to work. My boss is having a nervous breakdown, so now I’m working with five attorneys and all of the Sec just to cover what he does on a daily basis.”
“Five? I only said—”
“Preston had to step in after Naden defected. And Preston’s been a senior partner so long he forgot what it’s like being in the trenches. He called for more help. You do a lot for the firm.”
“Preston?” Hell. “What did you give him?”
“Darren’s follow up.”
Not a bad choice, but I’m sure he’ll have plenty to say about my not showing up for work two days in a row.
She polishes off her half the sandwich. “I’m leaving those files with you. This one is Gabriel’s. You need to close it out and pass it on. You’re too close to him now to rep him, pro bono or not. They are going forward on Trevor and will likely call Gabriel as a witness.”
I finish my sandwich. “Thanks, Gwen. Sorry I tried to fire you.”
“Like I said, you couldn’t. I didn’t take it personally.”
“Take the sentiment and get out.”
She beams at me. “You’re feeling better already.” To my surprise she kisses my cheek. “Get your closing arguments together. She’ll be home around six.”
I rest my head on the couch after she leaves. Words are important, I know that. I’m not sure if can say them. Where to begin to tell Kennedy how much she’s mattered to me?
It’s hopeless, but hope’s a bitch. She’s digging her claws into me anyway.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
A little after five-thirty more than a few families have made it home with the kids so there’s a bit of chaos in Kennedy’s apartment complex. I flip through Grave Peril as I wait for her. The wind shifts the strands of my hair, and I try to look harmless to the mother pushing her baby in a stroller.
She stops, narrows her gaze, but I’m saved when I glance down the car lot. Kennedy’s car slows to a crawl. I stand up. The mom keeps going down the walkway. The slam of Kennedy’s door tells me exactly how she feels seeing me on her stoop.
I push up the sleeves of my long tee then stuff my hands into the pocket of my jeans.
“What are you doing here?” she asks.
“October seventeenth.”
“What?”
“That’s the first day I saw you at Lance and Chase. You were fighting with the coffee machine, cursing at it and I helped you. I flirted, too.”
She presses a hand to her stomach. “What does that have to do with anything?”
I note she hasn’t moved any closer. I stand my ground. “I don’t know what else I need to do to prove I’m not going to hurt you again. So I’m laying out the facts.”
“I don’t—”
“October twentieth, I gave you my blueberry muffin because you skipped breakfast. You made coffee that time. The first week of November you stopped wearing your hair in a ponytail in the mornings. I found excuses to get close to you so I could pick up the scent of cinnamon and lavender, because sometimes you smell like cinnamon and lilacs. I know the difference because it drove me nuts. I asked a florist.”
Her face flushes. “Don’t.”
“I didn’t catch it at the time, but while I was talking about Thanksgiving and Christmas you went quiet. I was talking ab
out my mom and Nate’s. You should have told me to shut the fuck up. You didn’t. You asked me about them both in detail.”
“Then a month later we had sex,” she says. “When I tried to tell you I wanted to go slow, you told me fucking me once was enough. The only reason it happened in the first place was because you were weak and drunk—”
“I thought we both were. I thought...” My throat tries to seize, and I can’t let it. Not this time. Kennedy’s talking to me, listening, I can’t walk away, or let her walk away, until I’ve said everything I should have. “I laughed after having sex, and it was the first time I’ve ever done that. I liked it. It scared the shit out of me. I blamed liquor instead of accepting the fact I’m different with you.”
She balls her hand. “But you crapped on it because I became friends with your mother.”
“I did.”
“And I lied. I did. That doesn’t excuse how you handled it.”
“It doesn’t.” I push my shoulders back. “I’m not trying to excuse it.”
“Then what, Duke? Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you should know for three years I saw you and I didn’t know how to ask you on a fucking date. My palms got sweaty. My heart raced. You’d look at me, and I felt like a goddamn god. Or a piece of shit.” I scrub a hand down my face because she can’t look at me as I say this. I can’t crumble. I have to keep telling her everything she’s made me feel. She won’t believe me otherwise. “If you could do that to me with a look or a word, what would happen if you let me touch you again?”
Her face doesn’t soften. “And you made me pay for it.”
“I did, which makes me an idiot at best and heartless at worst. I should have just told you my day can be made if you smile at me. It’s a miracle I can put two words together when you talk to me.”
“You don’t act like it.” She stomps over to me and pushes me in the chest. “You had the chance to say this to me when we argued about Corey. You walked.”
“I walked because I spent three years hoping you’d notice me again. I hoped you’d see me, the asshole, the hardass and love me just as I was. You wouldn’t put conditions on how you felt about me. I have been scared shitless you’d hurt me like you did that night. You seeing my mother was just the beginning. You’d leave me all over again.”