Dream a Little Dream
Page 27
“You don’t understand.” Darcy glanced around in apparent surprise. “How can you not see that I didn’t earn this? How can you not think poorly of me after I confessed?”
“Because we disagree on principle.” Edith raised her hands toward the rafters. “Lots of friends don’t align on every opinion or every little thing. Take my friends, for instance. They love the strategy of poker and I hate it because I don’t think that way. Now, I could say, obviously, that they’re wrong for liking poker, but until they change my opinion or I change theirs, we have to respect each other.”
Bitsy and Edith exchanged smiles.
“I’ve told you before, Darcy,” Jason said gently. “I don’t think you cheated the system. And as for other disagreements we’ve had, I’ve been a rodeo man since I was eighteen, and I’ve seen my share of the winner’s circle, but I think I’ve got to hang it up. It’s time I accept that a man doesn’t have to prove his worth on the back of an ornery bull. A real man prioritizes what he values in life and tries to enjoy every moment with the ones he loves.”
“Is there a condition with this?” Darcy hugged Stogey, who belched. And for the first time, Jason realized she wasn’t wearing George’s wedding ring. “You’ll retire if I keep quiet and see out my term. Is that it?”
“No. There should be no conditions on love,” Jason said. “But I don’t think you need to go airing your dirty laundry. That’s nobody’s business but your own.”
“Dirty laundry?”
Darcy set Stogey on the floor and gathered her purse.
You’re losing her.
George…
George, of course! “George asked you to give up your dream when he got you that appointment as judge. All you ever wanted was to leave town and become a public defender. And all I ever wanted to do—when I wasn’t angry at the world—was be with you.”
Darcy stiffened. “That’s not true.”
“Which part?” Jason was ruing that he hadn’t changed the seating arrangements. He couldn’t get his legs free to climb over the table and stop Darcy from leaving. “Clarice, cut, will you? Don’t go, Darcy. Please. I’m being honest. I’m not retiring because of you or the twinge. I’m retiring because I can’t pursue other dreams I have if I don’t. I want to start a family. I’m ready to settle down. And all this…” He gestured around the room. “All this was to give you the opportunity to talk about the situation with George and the judgeship and for you to hear that it doesn’t matter.”
“The people in this room care about me. They’ll forgive me a mistake.” Darcy pointed toward the door. “But the people out there won’t be as forgiving. And yet they need to know the truth because I’m a public servant. And one way or another, I’m going to tell them.”
“No one is perfect, nor do they expect you to be. And nobody is liked and accepted by everyone they know,” Jason said, feeling desperate. “George gave you a break, Darcy. Everyone in this room has been given a break a time or two. Don’t think you can’t use a leg up just because your last name used to be Jones.”
It was the wrong thing to say. No matter how much she tried to separate herself from her family, she’d always identify as one of them. Darcy’s face shuttered, and she headed for the door.
Ken stood in her way. “Just a friendly reminder that everyone signed a nondisclosure agreement. Everything discussed here is covered in the purview of that document, from screws to nuts. Or in this case, from retirement plans to judicial appointments to marriage details.”
“What?” Darcy glared at Ken and then at Jason. “You’re saying I can’t talk about how George made sure I got his job? Not to anyone?”
“Not to anyone,” Ken confirmed.
“You could challenge the contract in court,” Jason said with a half shrug. She’d resent him for the legally binding agreement. Didn’t matter that he hadn’t wanted it to come to this. “But until then, maybe you should think about what a jury of your peers here today concluded about the past year—not guilty.”
“Hear, hear,” Mims said.
Darcy pushed past Ken but Mom was there to keep her from racing out the door.
* * *
“Not guilty,” Darcy muttered angrily, heading toward the yarn shop door.
“Oh, Darcy, honey. Have you seen these adorable berets?” Jason’s mother inserted herself in Darcy’s path.
Chest heaving, Darcy came to a halt. “NDA or not, I’m going to tell the truth.”
“Don’t worry.” Bitsy came to stand at Darcy’s shoulder, holding up a hand to keep Ken back. “We signed Ken’s thing. Our lips are sealed.”
“But so are mine!” Oh, Darcy was mad. Lesson learned. Never sign anything without understanding it fully. And never, ever sign anything handed to her by Ken Tadashi. She gave him a dark look before hurrying out the door.
Ken followed her out, stiff as starch. “I feel like I should tell you that this wasn’t Jason’s idea.”
“But he ran with it, didn’t he? He keeps telling me that I have nothing in my past to be ashamed of but then he traps me into silence.” Stogey sat on her foot and stared at her as if she could do no wrong.
“Darcy…”
She scowled at Jason’s agent. “What?”
“I’m sorry the marriage wasn’t real.” Ken actually appeared remorseful. “You guys are great together.” He touched her shoulder, like a soft attaboy. “Don’t be mad. Like Jason said, you wanted an audience, one that would judge you, and we gave you one.”
It wasn’t the right audience. “This isn’t over.”
“By all means, engage a lawyer. Bring it to a judge.” Ken had his hard-bargain face on.
“I have to go.” Darcy swung her purse at Ken, missing him by inches.
Before she succumbed to the urge to swing again, she scurried down the sidewalk with Stogey at her heels.
Stogey was probably wondering when he’d get his next meal.
Darcy was wondering where she was going to find a lawyer to represent her.
* * *
“So, that was fun.” Ken entered the yarn shop’s storeroom, which had cleared out except for Jason.
Darcy and the widows had left several minutes before. In the main store, Mom was helping Kristy Brooks select a pattern for a baby sweater.
Jason still sat on the bench next to the wall of yarn. His elbows were on the table. His chin in his hands. His heart in the trash. “Define fun, Ken.”
“Anytime I can inch my clients closer to their dreams, it’s fun.” Ken sat on a folding chair, as prim as a choirboy.
“Did we gain anything?” Jason scoffed. “Do you think we can hold Darcy off until the bachelor auction?” That was the Widows Club plan B. Stall and hope, in the meantime, that Darcy would come to believe she wasn’t the villain here.
Like I am?
I hope you don’t plan to haunt me the rest of my life, George.
There was a sound in Jason’s head, much like an old man’s chuckle.
That didn’t bode well for the rest of Jason’s life.
“It’s hard to say if the NDA will stand up to a legal challenge, even if we only need it to hold until the Date Night Auction on Saturday.” Ken shrugged. “Did you get a chance to review the partnership documents for Mr. King?”
“Yes. Have I told you that I don’t speak legalese?”
“Many times.” Ken’s phone buzzed. For once he ignored it. “I should probably tell you there will be no broadcasting career. And this little ensemble will not be picked up by any web channel. That was a red herring.” And from his tone, he was having regrets.
“I thought there was something fishy about that.” Jason plucked a pink skein of yarn from the shelf and threw it at Ken. “Why the ruse?”
Ken caught the yarn, using it like a floppy pointer around the room, from tripod to folding chair to Jason. “Because this…It got you shook. And sometimes when you’re used to being top dog, you need a little shake.”
Disapproval heated Jason’s veins. “Yo
u’re lucky I like you, Ken.”
His agent tossed the yarn back. “And that I make you decent money.”
“That too.”
“It was amusing, though.” Ken got to his feet, half smiling, testing the waters between them with raised brows that invited Jason to the same wavelength. “Edith and Iggy could take that show on the road.”
Jason groaned. “Please don’t tell them that. Iggy would love to be state-fair famous.”
Ken sighed. “They would have been a good act at small venues.”
“But they would have tested your patience.” Jason stood and edged clear of the table. What was left of his heart was heavy from the continued loss of Darcy. “Any word from my favorite cattle rancher?”
Ken held the drape aside, clearing Jason’s path to the exit. “Tom has decided to counter. A refund and a double order of product from Samson, the collection of which he will supervise.”
Dang, that was smart. “Approved.” It was no less than Bull Puckey Breeding deserved.
They said goodbye to his mother and went outside, where the sunshine and bright green of the town square tried unsuccessfully to chase Jason’s cares away. He hoped Darcy was all right. He hoped she’d think about how many people in one room found no fault with her journey to a judgeship. But they were deflated hopes.
Ken glanced up and down Main Street. “You know, I have to leave town soon. I have other clients with problems just as devastating as yours.” He sounded like he might miss Sunshine.
“But you’ll stay for the bachelor auction?” Jason’s big effort to get Darcy back.
“I’ll stay till the end.” He clapped Jason on the back, surprisingly hard.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Armed with coffee and still-warm scones from Olde Time Bakery, Darcy knocked on Rupert’s office door Monday morning.
Jason and Ken had outmaneuvered her. Not guilty? She expected Jason and her friends to understand her decision. But Rupert and Oliver? Not a chance.
She’d spent most of Sunday night tossing and turning, trying to decide what to do. By morning, it was easy. Stick to the original plan—leave Sunshine and Jason and start fresh elsewhere. She was a Jones. She wasn’t above fleeing town with Stogey before the lawsuit was settled. Although she wasn’t a die-hard Jones. First she had to confess the truth about her marriage and its benefits to someone who wouldn’t consider her innocent.
Her heart felt empty, but she was determined to start over with a clean slate. The brisk morning air swept past her ankles beneath her long skirt and chilled her toes, which were in her wedge sandals. Stogey pressed his nose against the glass, wagging his tail when he saw Rupert approach.
Rupert opened the door but didn’t let them in. “Did you have an appointment?”
“You know the answer to that question.” Darcy raised the cardboard tray with two coffees. “I brought caffeine and scones. Are you going to let me in or not?”
He hesitated, stroking a hand over a very expensive-looking teal tie that would be a classy accent underneath a judge’s robe.
Darcy touched the piece of turquoise holding one of George’s bolo ties in place at her neck, suddenly unsure.
With a put-upon sigh, Rupert stepped aside. “You aren’t going to make this a habit, are you?”
“No.” Darcy followed him, moving slowly, still wrestling with second thoughts. “Unless you hurt her.”
“Who? Pearl?” He led her into a nicely appointed conference room.
“No. Bitsy.” Darcy dropped the end of Stogey’s leash on the floor, put the bakery tray on the table, and deposited her purse and laptop bag on the floor.
Rupert dropped heavily into a chair, as if he’d stumbled in the act of sitting.
“Let me get to the point.” Darcy settled more gracefully into her seat. “I need legal advice.”
Rupert’s eye roll indicated his disbelief. Or perhaps he was scornful of Stogey, who’d managed to tangle his leash around the wheels of Rupert’s chair. He bent to unclip Stogey’s leash.
“Please don’t roll your eyes.” A month ago, Darcy wouldn’t have had the courage to talk to her stepson like that. She removed the coffees from the cardboard carrier. “You’re the one who told me I needed a good lawyer.”
“You need a lawyer for the situation with Pearl.” Rupert sat back up, smoothing his pretty tie before picking up one of the coffees. “I’m not giving you legal advice beyond that.”
“We’ll see.” Darcy hoped to appeal to his curiosity. She broke off a piece of scone. “You can advise me on a different matter, especially if I settle out of court with Pearl.”
“And, of course, you need advice today. Right now.” His tone suggested he’d expect no less from her.
Darcy drew her typed offer from her laptop bag and placed it upside down on the conference table. “I have my offer right here. Can you advise me or not?”
Rupert’s entire being seemed centered on the paper on the table. “As long as your need for counsel doesn’t pertain to the animal in question. By the way, we’re not settling for anything less than full custody of Stogey.”
She shook her head. “My plan is to keep Stogey—”
“Unacceptable.”
“—and give you and Oliver the main house, along with George’s money, but only if you allow Pearl to live in the cottage rent-free.” She handed him the contract she’d drafted to do just that. “If that’s what she wants.”
Rupert took a moment to review the document and then set it down on the conference table. “You’re trying to buy a judgeship. You think giving us this will keep us from running against you.”
“I was actually planning to resign and let you two boys duke it out for the appointment.”
“How unexpected.” Rupert had a good courtroom face. He didn’t so much as blink at her announcement. He took a sip of his coffee, leaning back in his chair. She could practically see the wheels spinning in his head. “What new legal trouble have you gotten yourself into?”
“Are you accepting my case?”
“My retainer is high.”
He needn’t have told her. Darcy could tell by the fancy furniture in his office and his expensive taste in everything, including the engraved pen on the table.
“I don’t care. I need a lawyer and client confidentiality.” And closure for this chapter of her life. “Can you give that to me? Now?” She couldn’t carry out her court duties and fight this case.
“I have a boilerplate contract you can sign but I’ll only offer it to you if you agree to one stipulation.” He almost smiled. “I need you to stay in your position until I say so.”
“I get it. You’ve got some jockeying to do with Oliver. Let’s just do it the old-fashioned way and shake hands for now.” She thrust out hers.
He met her halfway. “What is this issue that requires such urgency?”
“For obvious reasons, I’m a public relations mess.”
“And…”
“And the man I thought was my husband has blocked me from telling the world the truth about my appointment.”
Rupert dribbled coffee on his expensive tie.
* * *
“Mama, are you okay? Where’s the fire?” Bitsy hurried inside the cottage. She’d been so hopeful that Mama was doing better but Mama had called and demanded Bitsy come over right away.
“Rupert’s coming over.” Mama sat knitting in front of the television, her cat in her lap. “Do you think Darcy caved to pressure and is giving me the dog?”
Bitsy wasn’t sure she wanted to take a guess or hear the answer. Besides, she was twitchy from the news that Rupert was coming over. She was wearing a sweater set today, with shoulder pads. And her hair was pulled back with her favorite big black velvet bow. Shiitake mushrooms! She was too retro for a younger man.
“I loved George for decades,” Mama said. “And for decades I didn’t expect anything.” She set her knitting aside and got to her feet. She was slower now that the anger wasn’t driving her, caref
ul with her steps. “I didn’t want anything from him either, just the pleasure of his company. And then everything went sideways. His marriage. His death.” She glanced at her hand and—
Darcy’s wedding ring!
“Darcy is giving you Stogey, isn’t she?” Bitsy didn’t need to ask the question. She knew the answer. “Look, I know you think you need Stogey to fill the place where George used to be, but you and I, we’ll take care of each other, no matter what. You don’t need George’s dog. Let Darcy have him. She needs his love.” Darcy was willing to bear the blame for every action George had taken. Until she shed that remorse, she’d never follow her heart and accept Jason’s love.
“Pfft.” Mama pushed away from her. “And who will take care of you when you spend your life savings caring for this old bag of bones? Where’s my lawyer? He should’ve been here by now.”
“Mama, when Rupert gets here, you have to tell the truth. You’re not a dog person. George knew that. He wanted Darcy to have Stogey.”
“Pfft. I know what George wants. It’s like he’s in my head.” She walked toward the back of the house. “It’s you who needs to face some truths.”
“What?”
“Hello.” Rupert knocked on the doorjamb. “Can I come in?”
The back door banged closed.
“Yes.” Bitsy hurried to greet him at the door, noting his bright-blue eyes, their color brought out by the green hue of his shirt and tie. “You look ready to hit the town and attract a lady’s attention,” she blurted, immediately adding, “Ignore that. I meant you look very nice today, ready to go someplace nice. Like court.” Her cheeks felt like they were on fire. “I’m going to stop talking now.”
He smiled at her warmly, the way a man smiles at a woman he finds amusing. “I’m not dating anyone, if that’s what you were getting at.”
Bitsy froze. “You’re…uh…” Recover! Recover! “You’re a fine, fine young man. You should be dating…perhaps someone your own age.”
His smile expanded. “Age is just a number.”
Her whole body heated the way it used to when she went through the hated menopause. “I didn’t mean to pry. You just…” Cover. Quickly. She raised her chin as if she were Edith and didn’t care a whit what outrageous thing she said. “You just look very handsome today.”