Walker Defense

by Bernadette Marie

  "Let me take you home."

  "God, everyone saw us, too."

  "Yes, and we're going to have to listen to the gossip for months."

  She laughed, obviously feeling more sober than before, but still swaying as she looked at him. "Maybe we will have to have sex some other time. I don't think I can do it tonight."

  Gerald laughed as he pulled her to his side to help her back to the reception hall so he could drive her home. "Yeah, maybe sex another night would be a better idea."

  Ella's bottom lip trembled, and tears pooled in her eyes as she continued down the street in front of the reception hall.

  After having sat at home sulking, and receiving Candi's texts, she thought she should suck it up and rejoin the party. But she never would have imagined that as she was looking for a parking space, she'd see Lydia nearly climbing on Gerald as they made out on one of the benches by the street. That was so unlike Gerald to have public displays of affection, and Lydia was usually much too straight-laced to do the same.

  What bothered her more was she hadn't seen that coming. She didn't know Lydia and Gerald were an item like that. The few pictures that Candi had sent of them dancing, fine she could almost deal with that. But when she'd seen them kissing on the bench, that took it to another level.

  There was no going back into the reception now. She'd drive back home and go to bed. Already she was much too worked up over someone she shouldn't even care about—not in that way.

  As she pulled back into her driveway, she rested her head against the steering wheel. The problem was, she did care. Never in all the years that she'd moved on from Gerald did she stop caring about him—stop loving him.

  She'd made a mistake, and now she was going to spend the rest of her life regretting that mistake. Deep down inside she knew that was why she'd moved back, even when her parents had moved on. There was an attachment—an unhealthy one—to Gerald, and now she was going to pay for it.

  Taking a deep breath, Ella opened the car door and stepped out in her high heels on to the driveway.

  She felt like a fraud all dressed up and looking as though she wanted to celebrate a wedding—a new start. The truth was, she didn't feel as though there would ever be joy in celebrating what she'd never had—happiness forever and ever.

  Sliding her key into the lock of her front door, she turned it and pushed it open. Quickly, she kicked off her heels and left them on the floor as she walked to the kitchen, poured herself a glass of wine, and plopped down on the sofa. How long was she going to have her little pity party? It was her fault that she didn't get her happily ever after, but when it was offered, she wasn't ready. It was that simple, and she'd be a fool to think otherwise. But damn it hurt to see him exploring his options with someone else.

  The wine was bitter on her tongue, and it numbed her brain just enough that she eased back against the sofa, turned on the TV, and for a few moments tried to forget how much it hurt to watch Gerald kissing Lydia. But it didn't last long. She sat back up as other worries crept in.

  How had he felt when she'd married Jacob? It had to have felt worse than seeing someone kiss someone else, that was for sure. Did she owe him another apology or was she the only one going through this? It was guilt. She was sure that was what was eating at her.

  Finishing up her glass of wine, she pulled the blanket off the back of the sofa and wrapped it around her. They'd hashed it out in the car on the drive to the reception. There was no need for her to continue to hash it out in her mind all night long.

  Ella closed her eyes and felt the wine swimming in her head. And as she drifted to sleep all she could see was Lydia pressed against Gerald, and their mouths connected.

  Chapter 5

  Lydia snored softly in the passenger seat of her car. It had taken him more than ten minutes to find her keys in the desk drawer of her office, as she wasn't much help.

  Somehow Gerald managed to get her to her car without too many people seeing her being carried out. He'd get her home and tucked into bed, and then he'd decide how he was going to get home.

  As he drove through town, he humored himself with all of the businesses that were owned by Lydia Morgan, passing at least three of them in a two-mile radius. She had her hand in everything. She'd only lived in town about a year, after finally having moved out of her grandfather's house which was much closer to his own, down that long dirt road, out where no one else was around for miles.

  There had been times he'd thought about moving to town, but his life was in the country. The animals, the land, the space—it was important to him. Any woman he ever married would have to be okay with living in the country because Gerald never saw himself tucked in nice and tidy in the city.

  He turned down Lydia's street and pondered how someone who grew up in the country could live in cookie-cutter houses that all looked the same.

  She stirred in the seat next to him. "You're home, sweet lady," he said as her eyes slowly opened. "Let's get you inside and tucked into bed."

  "I feel like crap."

  "Yeah, but I think you had a perfect time at the reception."

  Gerald parked the car in the driveway, and helped her out and into the house.

  She swayed against him, and there had been a few times where she'd nearly fallen to the floor because she'd fall asleep standing up.

  "A few more steps, honey. C'mon," he coaxed her to her bedroom and eased her down to sit on the side of the bed. He pulled her shoes off and helped to lay her back. He didn't know the protocol for sleeping in a bridesmaid's dress, but she could work herself out of that in the morning when she woke.

  "You staying to sleep with me?" she asked with her eyes closed.

  "I'm going to be on your couch and gone in the morning. I'm a little far from home."

  "I'm sorry I asked you to have sex with me." Her words slurred as she pulled the blanket over her shoulders. "You're a good pal."

  "Goodnight, Lydia." Gerald pressed a kiss to her temple and then took the other pillow off of the bed, as well as a quilt from the foot of the bed. Leaving the door propped open the slightest bit so he could hear her, he made his way to the living room to sleep on the couch.

  He hung his tuxedo jacket on the back of the chair and kicked off his shoes. There was no way he'd strip down to his underwear tonight. Being fully dressed was safer, even if he had no intentions of taking Lydia to bed. But he was a man, and he had to admit that when she kissed him, it stirred up a lot of feelings. They weren't aimed at Lydia, and he knew that much. She was a friend, and even with her tongue in his mouth, he still only felt friendship for her, but he'd missed having someone to kiss.

  Gerald shook his head as he made himself comfortable for the night. Perhaps it wasn't Lydia that had gotten him all worked up, no he knew who it was — having that stupid argument with Ella had twisted him up. In the heat of it, he'd thrown all of her mistakes back at her. What an ass he was.

  She had her own problems. She didn't need him and his broken heart to be part of that. Besides, they'd moved on to being friends, and that was important, especially if she was going to live in town. She would also still be working with Nichole since her identity was stolen. Even though the woman who had done it was in jail, there still were a lot of things that needed to be taken care of. For his new sister-in-law's sake, he'd take it easy on Ella.

  * * *

  Gerald opened one eye slowly and caught the sunlight, but he had a very distinct feeling someone was watching him. When he could, he opened both eyes and turned his head to see Lydia sitting in the chair next to him, her bathrobe on, her short hair wet from a shower, and a cup of coffee balanced between her hands.

  "Good morning, sweetheart. Can I make you some eggs?" she asked with a hint of humor.

  "Good morning, sweetheart, right back at'cha," he said with his voice cracking. "What time is it?"

  "Nine-thirty."

  "Damn. For a man who watches the sunrise every morning, this is a whole day wasted." Gerald sat up and stretched. H
e was going to be sore, that was for sure. "How are you feeling?"

  "I'm good. I'm embarrassed, but I feel fine."

  "What do you have to be embarrassed about?"

  She picked up her phone and turned it so he could see it. Someone had texted her a picture of them kissing on the bench.

  "I didn't know we had anyone watching us," he admitted. "Which part embarrasses you? That you were caught kissing someone? Or that you were caught kissing me?"

  The humor faded from her expression. "Don't be a jerk. I'm not embarrassed that I kissed you. I'm not even embarrassed that someone took a picture." She studied it before setting her phone back down. "I'm embarrassed that people saw me as drunk as I was."

  "You deserve to blow off a little steam too."

  "I'm a professional."

  "Screw anyone who thinks that your professionalism isn't real just because you had a few drinks."

  The smile tugged at her lips again, and that made him feel better.

  "Okay, to the next thing then. I'm a little embarrassed that I asked you to have sex with me."

  Gerald laughed as he scrubbed his hands over his face. "Oh, honey. If I had a dollar for every woman who asked me for sex…"

  She shook her head and picked up a throw pillow, tossing it straight at his head. "I mean it. That was horrible."

  "I didn't think so."

  "Thank you for being a gentleman."

  "That's me."

  "It is. But for the record, had you not been one, and we did have sex together, I wouldn't be embarrassed about it or upset. You're a good man, Gerald Walker. I'm lucky to have you as a friend."

  Gerald puckered his lips. "So you're saying we could still have sex?"

  Lydia rolled her eyes as she stood from her chair. "Offer expired when you fell asleep on the couch. Now, c'mon, I'll make it all up to you by cooking your breakfast and then giving you a ride home. I have to stop by my grandfather's anyway."

  He watched her walk away, and he smiled to himself. She'd have driven him home even if she didn't have to see her grandfather. Lydia Morgan would do anything for him. She was just that kind of friend.

  It was inspiring. Well, he'd like to think he'd been that kind of friend last night. He was sorry there were pictures of them doing that—because it did look gross, but he was glad she'd attached herself to him and no one else.

  Then he thought about the argument he'd had with Ella, and how he'd made her so angry that she didn't even attend the reception. He owed her an apology for that.

  "C'mon," Lydia hollered from the kitchen.

  He'd make time to stop by her office and talk to her. But for now, he was going to find out if Lydia even knew how to crack an egg.

  Chapter 6

  Candi had texted and called ten times since Ella had awoken. She wasn't going to answer her, or anyone for that matter. She was taking a mad day, and mad days did not include anyone interrupting her. Mad days also included cleaning her house from top to bottom and usually weeding out her closet. Though the last time she weeded out her closet on a mad day, she'd thrown out one of her grandmother's sweaters that she’d been keeping forever. She wasn't sure why it still bothered her. It wasn't as if she were ever going to wear the darn thing, but she'd wanted to keep it.

  With her coffee mug in hand, she watched the news on TV, just putting off the next step of cleaning—the bathrooms. When she'd stripped her bed and put on clean sheets, she'd realized her mad was unwarranted which only pissed her off more. She was headed full on into a mad day over Gerald Walker—again.

  There was no reason for her to be upset. She'd offered to drive him to town when he'd asked. She could have left his ass out in the country. There were plenty of people to take him into town, but she'd done it. When he got under her skin, she'd let him.

  What if she'd gone to the reception and picked up a date for the night? Hell, she could be waking up with him instead of thinking about Gerald waking up with Lydia.

  Just thinking about it pissed her off, and now she was ready to tackle the bathrooms.

  By the time the house sparkled, she was ready to call Candi back, but the doorbell rang instead, and she knew Candi had heeded the signs.

  "I smell bleach," she said when Ella opened the door. "You've used your mad day well, young one," Candi joked as she pushed through with a bottle of wine and take out that said Giovanni's.

  "You knew I'd be cleaning?" she asked as she closed the door and followed her best friend to the kitchen to partake in whatever smelled so good.

  "You always clean when you're mad. And when you didn't come back to the reception last night after I sent you that picture. And, you've been ignoring me all day. I knew you were mad."

  Ella sat down at the kitchen table and watched Candi unpack the bag. "I did come back," she admitted. "I was trying to find a place to park, and I saw Gerald and Lydia making out."

  Candi lifted her head and gave her a quizzical look. "Making out?"

  "That's what I would call it."

  "Gerald and Lydia?"

  "Well, yes. You were the one watching them dance all night. Why are you so surprised?"

  Candi shrugged as she opened the salad container and set it on the table. "I'm surprised because they're friends—and only friends."

  "Then why did you send me a picture of them dancing so close?"

  "To make you mad enough to come back to the reception and try and outdo them."

  Ella shook her head as she plucked a tomato from the salad and popped it into her mouth.

  "Outdo them? Was that in the dancing category or the making out? And who was I supposed to make out with?"

  Candi set the container of spaghetti down on the table and followed with paper plates and plastic forks.

  "There were plenty of men there that you could have hooked up with."

  "Hooking up is not my idea of a good time."

  Candi laughed as she sat down next to her. "And that, my dear, has always been one of your problems. If you did hook up once in a while, then maybe you wouldn't be so stressed out." As Ella took a breath, Candi held up her hand. "And don't tell me you're not stressed out. I know you are."

  "I have a stressful job."

  "And you never have any release."

  "I'm not that uptight."

  "Just saying you could use some letting go." Candi stood and walked over to the bottle of wine Ella had started the night before. She moved straight to the cupboard with the wine glasses and pulled down two before returning and pouring each of them a glass of wine. "This isn't much, but maybe it'll help."

  Ella took the wine. "I'm not that uptight."

  "Let's agree to disagree and eat all of this pasta. After we're full, we're going to sit down on the sofa and watch a movie. We might as well drink wine and watch romantic comedies if we've missed your chance to get you hooked up."

  Ella pursed her lips, and Candi laughed as she tapped her glass to Ella's.

  Shaking her head, Ella sipped the wine. This was why it was good to have a best friend, she thought as Candi began a string of tales from the night before, and not another story had the names Gerald or Lydia.

  * * *

  When Ella woke Monday morning, she thought of how nice it was to have the entire house so clean and fresh. She opened the window in her bedroom before she picked out her favorite power suit.

  She would be in court the first part of the morning, and later she had a conference call. If the morning went well, she had no doubt the call in the afternoon would be successful. Perhaps she'd try and sneak in to see Audrey and get a haircut at lunchtime. That was if things worked out as planned.

  The news on the TV said the stock market opened high. The meteorologist said it was going to be warm, but not so humid. It was stacking up to be a great day.

  She deserved a good day after having wasted her weekend depressing herself. But, again on the bright side, she'd cleaned her house and spent the evening with her best friend watching some Amy Schumer movie she couldn't even remembe
r the name of.

  When she got to the courthouse, the first parking spot was open. The day was set up fine, she thought as she headed up the steps of the building with her Starbucks coffee in her hand, which the person in front of her had paid for.

  "We have a problem," Abe, her assistant, hurried toward her.

  Quickly, Ella handed him her coffee, because when he said there was a problem, it meant her entire lovely morning was about to go in the toilet. If he were holding her coffee when he told her the bad news, then she wouldn't spill it down the front of her and ruin her power suit.

  "What's going on?"

  "The sister of the defendant was picked up yesterday on drunk driving charges."

  "So our witness isn't here?"

  "Nope."

  She let out a long, slow breath. The man she was defending against a hit and run had only one witness to say he wasn't there at the time of the accident, and that was his sister. Otherwise, all evidence pointed to him, even though Ella believed him to be innocent.

  "Ms. Mills." She turned when she heard her name only to find the prosecuting attorney motioning for her to join him in the small office to the side of the courtroom.

  "Take the coffee with you," she told Abe. "It's a vanilla latte. Drink it."

  "Why?"

  "I'm afraid it'll end up all over me or someone else if you leave me in charge. Just enjoy."

  She followed the lawyer into the room, and he shut the door.

  "My client is opting to drop all charges."

  Ella eased herself into one of the chairs around the large table. "Why is that?"

  "It seems as though we came into some new intelligence on the matter, and we have advised him not to continue on."

  She nodded slowly. "Should I have this evidence? If it's exonerating my client…"

  "Just take the deal. It's a no harm no foul kind of day."

  "So my client wasn't involved?"

  "No."