by Jamie Knight
“Hi, Mrs. Jones, I’m Sarah.”
“Oh, hello dear,” Mom said, looking Sarah up and down, no doubt noticing how unbelievably stunning she was. Mom had made a career out appreciating beautiful things, and not much got past her.
“Delighted to meet you,” Mom said, taking Sarah’s offered hand, “and please, call me Sequoia. How long have you two been together?” she asked, as though this were a perfectly ordinary introductory inquiry.
Of course, she assumed that Sarah was my girlfriend. It was really more wishful thinking on her part, wanting me to settle down and start a family. Even though it couldn’t really be the need for grandkids. Camilla had gotten married long before. Mom was thrilled with Aden, of course, though a son-in-law wasn’t quite the same as a son. Though she wasn’t a traditionalist by any means, Mom was still quite keen on the idea of me, her firstborn son, giving her grandchildren.
There was a very awkward moment as Sarah and I both tried to figure out what to say. We never really talk about our relationship, or what it all meant. It just sort of happened, and we went along with it. I took the bullet.
“She’s my attorney.”
I could hear Sarah’s little huff of irritation and knew it would take some serious apologizing before she would forgive me, but it needed to be done.
“I’ve never slept with my attorney,” Mom laughed, clearly not believing me.
With a sudden turnaround, Mom’s usually bright and cheery disposition suddenly shifted dark and serious like clouds rolling in on a sunny day. “Why do you need an attorney?”
“It’s nothing really, just a contract issue.”
“Bull droppings.”
“I had to discontinue a contract because the client withheld the fact that he had mob connections. I also warned some of the other firms in town about his actual intention for his casinos, which was money laundering.”
“Ivanov,” my mom nearly spat.
“You know about that?”
“Baby, everybody knows about that. He is notorious has been for years. Well, I’m going to show him what’s what, you can count on that.”
I tried not to roll my eyes. “Probably not a good idea to be provoking a mobster, mom. That’s why I’ve got an attorney now. Ivanov wants to sue. We are going to pick apart his case piece by piece. The guys at the firm will support me and the new owner, Ryan, he has some pretty deep pockets. We will fight it to the end. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll send out Aden with a baseball bat.”
I couldn’t be sure, but she seemed to calm down. At least enough not to no longer storm Ivanov’s penthouse single-handed.
“We should all go to dinner,” mom enthused, “my treat!”
I could almost feel Sarah’s back stiffen, even though she was on the other side of the room.
“I should be getting home,” Sarah said quietly.
“Excuse me for a moment,” Mom said, heading for the bathroom, giving me a pointed look as she went.
“I’m really sorry,” I said gently, putting a hand on Sarah’s back.
“Your attorney?’ she snapped, sounding like she might cry.
“You are now. It was all I could think of. I really didn’t know what to call you. I mean, what are you, my lover? My girlfriend? My friend with benefits?”
“I’m not sure either,” Sarah admitted, relaxing a bit. “I do know that I really like it, though.”
“Me too,” I concurred, giving her a light kiss.
“You should call her your baby momma because Sarah is going to give me grandchildren!”
Sarah honestly looked like she was going to choke. I could empathize with her reaction. My mom was great but really did take some getting used to.
“Mom is psychic,” I explained in my most skeptical tone.
“Some need to see something before they believe it,” Mom chided, “like the distinguished scientist who didn’t believe in meteorites until the remnants of one were literally put on the table. Come along, kids.”
Mom flounced out of the living room in that unique way of hers, leaving us alone again. I could tell that Sarah still had qualms.
“I really do want you there,” I said, pulling her close.
“You sure?” she asked.
“Yes, I may not know exactly what to call you, but I do know that I love you.”
It was the first time I had said that, out loud anyway. I had been feeling it but too afraid to fully acknowledge the sensation. I loved Sarah, in the fairy tale, happily ever after kind of way that I long believed only existed in Germanic folktales and adaptations thereof.
“Sarah,” she said, putting her head against my shoulder, “call me Sarah. That is enough.”
Chapter Twelve - Sarah
This behavior wasn’t like me, and part of me was still wondering why I had decided to go even while we were being seated. I knew, of course: Cooper loved me. He had said so himself. While I wasn’t about to admit yet, I loved him too. I knew I could trust him to never hurt me or leave me, and I really hoped that Sequoia was right about the baby momma thing. Something in my gut, not only the nausea I was getting every morning, told me that she was.
The restaurant she chose put me in mind if the ones I would go to with my parents back before dad went to prison. I had no idea how Sequoia could afford such a place, but since she lived at an artist’s colony, I figured she must have some money socked away. I had also heard of artists making lots of money from their work and wondered if she was one of those. It would explain a few things. Like her bright blue and purple dye job and fashion sense that seemed to consist of sandals, torn jeans held together with patches and an embroidered poncho. An eccentric artist’s look that she wore well.
I had to wonder how much of her personality had rubbed off on her son. Camilla seemed to have a lot more similarities with Sequoia than Cooper did. Though it seemed like they’d had very different sorts of lives.
“Sarah,” Coop said, pulling out my chair for me, his chivalry making me giggle.
“Just don’t go ordering for me, okay?” I clarified.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, my darling,” he said, laying it on with a trowel.
I had the sense that he was doing it partly to tease his mom, though there was an undercurrent of authenticity as well. Cooper really was as charming as ever, despite all the trouble weighing him down. Something I had the feeling he had dealt with before. To hear Camilla tell it, when she was sincere, it was a miracle he wasn’t either dead or in jail. There was a definite darkness there that I just couldn’t quite reach but also didn’t scare me as much as it might have.
“What happened to your mouth?” Sequoia asked, referring to the bruise forming where Jinx had punched him.
“Disagreement with a client,” Cooper said.
“Oh, dear,” Sequoia said, not sounding terribly concerned.
“It was all in a good cause,” I said, feeling like I was defending him.
That also wasn’t really a lie. From what I could tell, Cooper was trying to keep Jinx from hitting Ivanov and possibly becoming the subject of a mob hit. Something Cooper clearly had no fear of himself.
“So, Sarah, what are your parents like?” Sequoia asked.
“Uh, well, my mom is great. She helped put me through law school. I got some scholarships, too, because my grades were high enough. Didn’t keep me from needing to get student loans. Turns out law school is expensive.”
“Especially the good ones,” Sequoia agreed.
“How did you know where I went?”
“Just a hunch.”
“She has a lot of those, sometimes they’re even right,” Cooper interjected.
“Oh hush, and you know full well it is a lot more than sometimes.”
“I figured it would be a way to make up for my teen years,” I volunteered
“Ah, naughty, were you?” Sequoia asked.
“Terrible, much more money than sense. Never wondering where it was all
coming from. I’ve been on the straight and narrow path ever since.”
“Ah, which explains why you didn’t mention your dad.”
“Sorry?”
“When I asked about your parents. You only mentioned your mom. Not a word about dad, and you also mentioned the money in the past tense. As though you had it and then you didn’t. Which would explain your cut-glass, private school diction.”
I blinked at her. “What’s wrong with my diction?”
“Not a single thing. That’s just it. It is perfect. Not the sort of thing one would usually expect from a girl with student loan debt.”
Damn, she got me. It was becoming abundantly clear that Sequoia was altogether too preceptive.
“Insider trading, was it dear?” Sequoia asked, sympathetically.
“Embezzlement actually,” I admitted before I could stop myself.
“Oh, how dreadful. Still, nothing to do with you, though. If anything, you would be one of the victims of his cunning and skullduggery.”
I didn’t cry. I forced myself not to cry. Even though that was the first time someone found out about who my dad was and what he had done without looking at me askew. I still felt terrible about my part in spending the money, but I also knew that Sequoia was right. It wasn’t as though I had stolen it myself. My dad did, and he was facing the consequences, just like I was.
I could feel Cooper’s hand on my back. I wondered if he maybe shared his mom’s psychic gifts despite his stated skepticism about it. I put my head on his shoulder, and he kissed me on my forehead, as Sequoia looked on, smiling approvingly.
It was after dessert. Why do all the big things, both wonderful or terrible, always happen during or after dessert? It was an unwritten law of the universe that I still had yet to fully comprehend.
I saw them first. Ivanov was not the kind of person it was easy to forget in a hurry. He had a tendency to stay with you and keep coming back like a bad burrito. I smiled at the image, Ivanov looking as though he’d had a few thousand burritos in his lifetime. My smile faded when I saw who was with him. Glen Anderson was my dad’s lawyer for the trial. I hated him for sending my dad away, even if he did deserve it. I soon got over it and started hating him for another, far more mature reason. He was a cynical charlatan who would represent Satan if he was paid enough. As evidence by who he was sharing a table with.
I tried to avoid them as we left, but like all agents of pure evil, Anderson had very good senses.
“Sarah, how is your daddy doing in prison?” Anderson asked.
“She’s Jones’s attorney, you know,” Ivanov pointed out.
“Great,” I said, remaining calm, “he is filing an appeal based on incompetent representation.”
It wasn’t true, but I could help but at least try and pierce his arrogant bubble just a bit. I tried not to smile too much as I watched him deflate.
“I can fit you in next Friday to discuss the settlement terms,” he said, his back going nearly rigid.
“Oh, that really doesn’t work for me, how about Tuesday, say two-ish?”
I knew it was petty, but I just had to get back at him for the dad crack as well as being a general disgrace to my profession. No way I was going to yield to him, even on something so comparatively small.
“Works for me,” he said, with his best winning, used car salesman smile.
It was a smile Cooper would have probably wanted to knock down Anderson’s throat, had he seen it. Yet, at that particular moment, Cooper looked very pale, as Marla Anderson made eyes at him like he was a piece of beef.
“Come on,” I said gently, resisting the urge to say ‘honey’, in case Anderson objected for conflict of interest.
I knew Coop was in a bad way. I hadn’t known him long, but I had learned to recognize his moods—especially the dark ones.
“Will you walk me home?” I asked sweetly.
“I-I don’t know, I should really drive mom back and—”
“Do you think I could have your house key so I can settle in while you’re boinking Sarah?” Sequoia cut in.
I blushed at her forthrightness, but Sequoia seemed utterly oblivious. She was really the sort to say precisely what she thought at any given moment. A trait I actually kind of respected.
“See to Sarah,” Sequoia said, squeezing Cooper’s arm, “I can take care of myself.”
Cooper gave her the house key, and we started in the direction of my place, with me very much in the lead. Cooper didn’t really seem to know what time it was and was eerily silent. He wasn’t a chatterbox at the best of times, but it was different that night. Something was going on, something potentially dangerous, and I felt the driving urge to try and keep him safe.
Chapter Thirteen - Cooper
I was listening. Sarah probably couldn’t tell because I didn’t say anything, but I really was trying to pay close attention as she went through the case.
“The contract is actually pretty open on your end. Technically speaking, you can cancel any contract with any client at any time. Though there needs to be a reason. I believe you about Ivanov laundering money for the mob, but we need to be able to prove that. If we can’t, the case is pretty weak. He could make it look like you canceled the contract and slandered Ivanov for no reason or just because you didn’t like him. Though even then, he had no right to the company’s profits. Anderson probably just put that into beef up the case.”
I flinched at the mention of Anderson’s name and shuddered as I remembered the way Marla eyed me. The drums of my anxiety got louder as the heat rose in my chest, feeling like it might burn out my heart. I needed time. I also needed to be away from Sarah in case something bad happened again.
Getting Sarah safely to the door of her building, I turned to leave and do something very dangerous and incredibly stupid.
“Please come up.”
It wasn’t a question. It was a request. She was practically begging me, which was something of a surprise. I wanted to say no, but I was already hurting her feelings, which hurt even more than the fire in my heart.
“Okay.”
She didn’t let go. Taking me by the hand to guide me into the building Sarah held on until we were inside. I wasn’t sure if it was a sign of affection, or she was trying to keep me from running away. Maybe a little bit of both.
I knew I had to tell her. It was no good trying to build a relationship while holding onto secrets like that. I knew Sarah’s secret. It was time for her to know mine.
“I’ll make some coffee,” she said, finally breaking away.
She clearly wasn’t planning on going to sleep anytime soon, which made me wonder what she had in mind. Maybe she could tell that I had something I needed to say to her. I was already on the couched when she arrived with two mugs of instant coffee. It was a far cry from the gourmet stuff I usually drank, but it didn’t matter. It was made with love and exactly what I needed at that moment.
Taking off her shoes, Sarah tucked her feet up under herself and turned to face me. I intentionally didn’t look at her, so I would get distracted by her beauty. I had to get through it, and if I was going to, I had to be able to focus.
“When I was in college, my first year of college, actually, I needed money. Or, we did really. My dad walked out on us, as you know. Mom did the best she could, but there was only so much she could do, and college was going to be expensive. I always did what I could to help her with the finances and raising Camilla. I was really more of a dad to her, or at least a father figure than our dad had ever been,”
“She told me,” Sarah said, taking my hand.
“Mom was already working two jobs, I made what I could doing illustration work, mostly for underground publications and indie magazines and working part-time at an art supply store but we were still just scraping by. I-I found an opportunity for escorts. I didn’t want to, not really, but we really needed the money. I could make more in a day than I could in a week at the store. So, I did it. For a
few months, soon after I turned eighteen, I was a boy toy for rich women. Marla Anderson was one of my clients.”
And there it was—the whole sordid tale. I braced myself for impact. For her judgment and her disgust. Ready to get up from the couch and leave, never to see her again.
Sarah hugged me.
“It doesn’t change anything,” she said, releasing me and taking my hand, “I-I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I said, fighting tears.
We kissed. First soft, then hard. Sarah opened her mouth, and I slipped in my tongue. She felt so good. So warm. Safe. I put a hand on her knee. She put her other hand gently on my cock. Before I really knew what was happening, I was on top of her. My pants and boxers on the floor and her skirt up around her waist, her panties pulled to one side as I moved inside her.
Sarah writhed on me, still mostly dressed, moaning and gasping as I made love to her. Her pussy heavenly around my cock. I did my best to block out the thoughts. To focus on her. On us, right then and there. I tried, but something broke.
I stopped and pulled out of her, unable to finish. Afraid I might hurt her if I lost control. I had to keep control. I had to block it out. Instead, I broke down. The sadness coming up before I could stop it. The drums were worse than they had been before. The burning flashing to an inferno as I really processed my past for the first time. I needed something, anything to take my mind off it—even physical pain.
The punch resounded, making Sarah jump. I could feel the blood trickling down my chin. I did it again on the other side so they would match. I could see my reflection in the glass coffee table. I looked like a vampire fresh from feeding. Sarah grabbed my arm before I could do it again.
“No,” she pleaded.
I fell against her, blood staining her shirt as I put my face into her chest. Sarah softly shushing me as she stroked my hair. I felt so stupid for what happened, even if I did technically do it consensually. I was just a stupid, desperate kid, and I let people buy me. People who already knew they could own me. I just proved them right.