by Julie Morgan
And with that, I held on to my mother and cried on her shoulder.
“I think I ruined my career just as it was starting.”
“No, darling,” she said and pulled back to look into my eyes. “You’re just getting your feet wet. Don’t worry about this. We all make mistakes in our careers.”
“But that’s just it, Mom. My head is telling me it was a mistake, but I’m not sure being with Chase was a mistake.”
“How does he feel?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t exactly give him a chance to tell me before I ran out on him.”
“What’s your plan, then? Will you stay at his firm?”
I shook my head. “No. There’s no way I can with this history between us now. I need to put in my notice and pray someone else will take me on.” This brought me back to my concerns about Patricia. “I only hope that ex of his won’t go blab her mouth all over town and make me look like the loose cannon she suspects I am.”
“Being a loose cannon isn’t all so bad. A loose woman who gives a turn like a doorknob? Well, that’s totally different.”
“Mom!” I exclaimed.
“What? It’s the truth. But honey, you are not that woman. You are a strong, independent woman who goes after what she wants. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s a great quality to have.”
“Even if said quality slept with my boss?”
“You said you love him. As I’ve always said, the heart wants what the heart wants.”
I let go of a long sigh and stood. I took my mom’s hands and helped her to her feet and then embraced her.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“You’re welcome.”
We stood in the bathroom, hugging each other a moment longer, and then I let her go. “I need ice cream.”
She smiled and brushed my hair behind my ears. “Chocolate or cookies and cream?”
Chapter Fourteen
Chase
What the hell had happened? Had I fucked something up? I didn’t quite understand why, but Ainsley was hell-bent on making me pay for something. She’d left abruptly and slammed the door in her wake.
Sleeping with you was a mistake.
The words echoed over and over in my mind. I sat on the edge of my bed, elbows on my thighs, and gripped the bridge of my nose. Sleeping with Ainsley was no fucking mistake.
My chest ached. It was unfamiliar, and I wanted it to stop. My stomach felt like I’d eaten something foul, but there was nothing in it. Just an empty void.
“Like my life,” I muttered. My phone chimed on my nightstand. Hopeful it was Ainsley, I picked it up, disappointed to see it was a text from my brother, Brice. I slid my finger over the screen to read the message.
Hey, brother. Congratulations on
your latest win. Let’s celebrate! Can
you come by later today at the house?
I’m cooking steaks in your honor.
Sure, man, sounds good. Be there around noon.
It sounded really good. I needed to get out of here, and spending time with my brother would be exactly what I needed to get out of this funk, get out of my own head. I needed to think clearly about what to do about Ainsley.
We hadn’t been together long—hell, were we actually ever together?—but it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. She had this way about her. She was a force to be reckoned with. No holding back, check-your-balls-at-the-door mentality. And I loved it.
I was never one to be serious with women and was always in charge. The Alpha, never the Omega. Even as siblings growing up, Brice had stepped back and let me make all the calls. It was probably why he worked for another law firm. He wouldn’t be able to stand by while I ran the show, getting all the glory.
But it was never about glory. It was about standing up for those who were innocent.
I brought the beer bottle to my lips and took a pull. The ice-cold liquid went down smooth. It was exactly what I needed. It was fall in Dallas, which honestly meant nothing. It was more like a second summer. It was hot and humid, but at night, it cooled to seventy-five.
The smell of the steaks made my stomach growl in hunger. I hadn’t eaten anything all morning and hadn’t wanted to after Ainsley left.
Sleeping with you was a mistake.
Somehow, somewhere, I had fucked up. But how? What the hell had I done?
“Again, brother, congratulations on the Vanderbilt case,” Brice said as he turned the steaks on the grill.
“It was an open-and-shut case. The newest up-and-coming lawyer in my firm did the majority of the legwork. She was amazing.”
I thought back to the moment when I had walked in on her in my office passed out from Scotch, the love/hate note tucked under her arm. She was sinfully sexy, but it took that note about how she felt to open my eyes. I was such a fool.
Brice put the grill fork down and turned to face me with brows raised.
“What?” I asked.
“Do tell. What’s her name?”
I chuffed and took a swig of my beer. “No idea what you’re talking about,” I mumbled and turned away from him.
Heels struck the concrete patio, and I looked up to my sister-in-law, Madeline. She met my gaze and smiled. She was always dressed up as if she were about to entertain at any given moment. Today she wore a pink sundress and heels. She was beautiful, with long chestnut-brown hair, and I understood the attraction my brother had for her. They’d met while he was in law school, and the two had been inseparable ever since.
“Oh, did you meet someone?” Madeline asked.
“No. Yes. It’s complicated,” I said and took another drink. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“All right,” she said as she brought over vegetables in aluminum foil to grill. She handed them to Brice, kissed his cheek, and then headed back inside.
“You sure there’s nothing to talk about?” Brice asked once we were alone again.
I sighed and took a seat on one of the patio chairs. “How do you know you’re in love?”
Brice chuckled as he tested the steaks and then put the vegetables on the grill. “You just know. It’s not a sign or something someone can tell you. And saying ‘I love you’ doesn’t mean you’re in love. People use it so loosely nowadays. Tell me what happened.”
I shook my head. “I have no idea where to start.”
“How about the beginning?” Brice offered and closed the grill lid. He came over and took a seat next to me. He sipped on his beer and sat quietly, patiently.
Sitting and listening was what we did best. We listened to our clients to learn and understand, and then we defended. It was our livelihood. And I excelled at it. But telling my brother what was going on through my head?
I wrung my hands and felt my throat close up. “I feel like I can’t breathe. The world is closing in around me. I can’t function without her. And I somehow managed to fuck things up just as they were getting started.”
Brice lifted a hand over his mouth, and his body shook as he chuckled.
“What the fuck, man?” I asked accusingly. “Seriously?”
“I’m sorry, bro, but you’re Chase Newstrom. You never let a woman get under your skin. They get in your bed and then are on their way. How did this one get to you?”
I explained my walking in on her passed out and the note and everything that had happened since then, including this morning with Patricia.
“So I don’t know what to do, how to act, or what I did to fuck it up.”
“Well, for one, she met the ex. Never a good way to start unless you and the ex are good friends, and there’s nothing, at all, between the two of you.”
“I can’t stand the air Patricia breathes,” I grumbled.
“Yeah, I can imagine. So she blew up at you this morning in your home when Patricia helped herself inside?”
I nodded. “Yeah.” Then I took a drink.
“And you two had just come out of the shower?”
I nodded again. “What are you getting at?
”
“Think for a moment about how it looked to Patricia.”
“I couldn’t give a fuck what Patricia thinks.”
“No, not that. Think about what Patricia saw. Ainsley is your new protégée. You two were freshly showered and in your home, early in the morning. Imagine how Patricia saw Ainsley in this scene. Her imagination probably ran wild with the scenarios in her head.”
It hit me like glass shattering on my skull. “Motherfucker.” I groaned and closed my eyes.
“Yeah, you’re welcome. You’ve got some cleanup and groveling to do.”
“How did this even happen?” Hell, I knew how it happened. Fucking Patricia was how. She saw us together and would run wild with the news.
“You stuck your dick in her?” Brice said.
I frowned. “Fuck off.” I rubbed at my forehead. “How do I save someone’s reputation before it’s even been created?”
“It’s what we do, brother. Make a case for her, and go in like a knight on his horse.”
I chuckled. “You haven’t met Ainsley. She would kick my ass if I rode in like that. Trust me, she’s the princess in the tower, but she’s got a sword and she’d slay any dragon who tried to keep her locked away.”
“Even better,” he said and finished his beer. “Let me get the steaks and veggies off. We’ll eat, and I’m sure Madeline can help you make an action plan on how to grovel most effectively. I’ve had plenty of experience doing it myself.”
I chuckled and stood with my brother. We didn’t see eye-to-eye on many things, but I loved him regardless. He was there for me when I needed someone, and I could only hope to return the favor one day.
“Assuming this works out in your favor,” Brice started, “I’ll begin planning the bachelor party. The Chase Newstrom is smitten. Who would have ever thought?”
I grinned. I was taken by this woman and loved everything about it. I needed Ainsley Speire in my life. Even if it meant getting on my knees and begging for mercy, I would do it.
I was in love for the first time, and it scared the hell out of me. As a person who usually controlled everything in his life, I had no control whatsoever over this. It was exhilarating yet exhausting.
“How do you do it?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” Brice returned.
“Fall in love. Stay in love. Remain with one person for the rest of your life? How do you do it?”
“Very carefully and one day at a time. You’ll go through hell and back, Chase. They will be your rock, and you’ll be theirs. You’ll see the best and worst of this person, and they’ll know you better than you know yourself. And one day, you’ll realize, you don’t remember life before they came into it, and you’ll never want to experience life without them.”
“I’ve never wanted that for myself.”
“And now?” he asked.
I met his gaze and rubbed the back of my neck. “I can’t lose her, man.”
“Then don’t let her get away. You have the charity ball coming up, right?”
I nodded. “Yeah, it’s soon. I wanted Ainsley to go with me.”
“Did she agree to go?”
“I don’t think I ever asked. I just said, ‘she’s going with me’ to Patricia.”
“Don’t ever assume a woman will do what you tell her,” Brice said.
I heard Madeline laugh behind me. I turned to find her watching us, a smug look on her face.
“How long have you been standing there?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Long enough to realize Chase Newstrom has a soul.”
I chuckled. “Love you too, sis.”
Madeline was a good person. I wasn’t too crazy about her at first. If no one was good enough for me, the same rule applied when it came to my brother. But she’d ignored me and pursued Brice. And I was glad she did. She’d been an incredible addition to our family.
“Just tell her how you feel. If you love her, tell her. And don’t be above groveling.”
“Oh, there will be groveling,” I said with a chuckle. “Just how much groveling, I’m not sure yet.”
“You’ll need to bring your A-game, brother,” she said. “You’ll need to give her enough to listen to your reason for begging for forgiveness. And even then, give her more. Let her know you fucked up, and beg her to tell you how to fix it.” She looked over to Brice and then continued. “I don’t like having to tell Brice when he fucked up or how to fix it, but in time, he figures it out.” She returned her attention to me. “Let her be her own person. Don’t try to control her.”
I shook my head. “That will never happen. There’s no way I could control her even if I tried! She’s one of the strongest women I’ve ever met. I just wish I had seen sooner what I see now.”
“You wouldn’t have been ready,” she told me.
The conversation I had with Ainsley came back.
“Funny, Ainsley told me the same thing.”
“Smart girl,” Madeline said with a wink. “I already like her.”
Brice handed me a plate with a steak on it. “Come get some vegetables. You’re going to need your energy.”
I nodded and accepted the plate. The steak smelled amazing.
I knew I would need to get my A-game on to slay the theoretical dragon keeping her in the theoretical tower. The thing was, the tower was of her own making. I needed to get through to her before I lost her forever.
I had a fight on my hands for the love of my life. But I hadn’t lost a case yet, and I wasn’t about to start now.
Chapter Fifteen
Ainsley
Wearing my old college T-shirt and pajama shorts, I sat on my couch and took another spoonful of my cookies and cream ice cream. My apartment was small, but it was mine. My feet were tucked under me, and the socks I wore were somewhere between half on and half off.
I was watching the latest baking reality show, and everyone was competing to make the best Halloween cake. They were being timed, and honestly, the pressure would be too much for me. Two hours to design and bake a cake? It took hours to prepare wedding cakes, sometimes days. Yet these people were expected to complete a masterpiece in two hours.
I shoved another scoop of ice cream into my mouth and sighed in contentment. I hated everything about today. My stupid heart was breaking, and my career was over before it even started, thanks to me putting out and that fucking whore, Patricia, walking in on us.
Who did she think she was, just walking into someone’s home like that? Was there still something between her and Chase?
Who the fuck cared, anyway? He and I were over. Not like we were actually together to begin with, but I liked him. A lot. It should take weeks, if not months, to fall in love with someone, but with Chase, it felt like we had skipped past everything and jetted right into falling in love.
And I hated myself for it. Why had I gotten drunk on his Scotch and written that stupid note?
“Ugh,” I groaned and took another bite.
“One hour left, bakers,” the host announced on the TV program. One of the women was about to lose her shit, and she began to cry. Her cake was falling apart, the icing wasn’t staying on, and she looked like she was about to throw in the towel and walk away. I could relate to this baker on a very serious level.
When a knock at my door sounded, I didn’t want to answer it. I didn’t want to see Chase. Hell, I didn’t want to see anyone. The person knocked again.
“Delivery for Miss Ainsley…umm, Spear?” called the delivery man as he tried to pronounce my name.
I groaned and put my ice cream down. “Speire, like ire,” I announced when I answered the door. “It’s not hard.” I looked at the delivery man, who held a large white box. I frowned. “What the hell is this?”
“No idea. I’m only delivering it, ma’am.” He held out a clipboard for me to sign. I scribbled my name on it and looked to see who it came from, but there was no return address information. “Can you tell me who sent it?”
“Nope,” the guy said and laid
the box on its side and then turned to leave. He couldn’t be older than twenty-one.
“How about a lesson in manners?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the guy said as he took off.
I bent down and picked up the box. It wasn’t heavy. I closed the door behind me and brought it to my small kitchen table. I pulled a chair out and took a seat. Staring at the box, I had a sinking suspicion it came from Chase. The ball was coming soon.
“He would never do something like this.”
I scooted out my chair and looked around my quaint kitchen. I’d decorated it with flying pigs. I loved the idiom when pigs fly.
I grabbed a set of scissors, went back to the box, and slid the sharp edge under the tape. I sat the scissors down and then slid the box open. I looked down on black tissue paper. It had a silver label over the middle that read Prada.
I chewed on my bottom lip. Prada? I’d never owned anything Prada and definitely couldn’t afford it. I bought anything designer off the Poshmark application on my phone. Since discovering this little piece of heaven, I’ve been able to buy shoes and handbags from major designers at a fraction of what they’d cost in a store.
With a tentative finger, I broke the Prada seal and pulled the tissue paper apart. Inside was a folded dark-crimson dress made of satin and tulle. I lifted it from the box and found it had one shoulder. The other was bare. It had a line of roses adorning the one shoulder and a zipper along the side of the dress. It was fitted on top and flowed out from the waistline. It was absolutely stunning—and probably the most expensive piece of material I had ever held in my hands. And that included the title to my car.
I laid it back in the box and noticed a note in an envelope and a black shoebox, again labeled Prada.
Inside was a pair of black peep-toe stilettos that slipped on and had a diamond bowtie over the outer side of each shoe. They were gorgeous, and I was scared to wear them for fear of getting them dirty.
I laid the box to the shoes back down and picked up the note. I didn’t see a name or anything inscribed on the outside. I opened it and pulled out a small slip of paper. I recognized the handwriting immediately.