He woke her when he got up the next morning at five. He showered and shaved, and she had coffee and toast waiting for him in the kitchen when he was dressed. She knew he ate breakfast on the plane. He was hopping a ride on someone’s corporate jet that morning with the people he’d been at the meeting with the night before. The others had stayed at a hotel, but he wanted to stay with her. And in previous years she’d enjoyed it, but not now. She wasn’t sure why, whether it was him or her, or time had just caught up with them. Shelter Island had been fun when she wasn’t working, but this wasn’t, when she had so many cases to deal with.
“Is something wrong?” he asked her as he sipped his coffee. “I feel like we’re missing something. We were both tired last night,” he said and she nodded. “Are we played out?” he asked, wanting her take on it, and she wasn’t sure either.
“I don’t know. I have a lot of work right now,” and family problems galore.
“Relationships like ours have a shelf life, you know,” he said calmly. “We may have hit our expiration date. I’m getting that feeling. Six years is a good run, if that’s where we are now.” He didn’t seem sad or emotional about it, he just wanted to know, in case he needed to change his route and make other arrangements for his free time.
“I don’t know. Maybe we have hit our expiration date,” she said, surprised to hear herself say it. But the sex didn’t feel right anymore. It was sex and nothing more. It had never been love, but it had been real affection for a while. She had felt something change that summer in Shelter Island too, and tried to ignore it. And she’d been upset about Claire. But it wasn’t getting better. If anything it was worse, with the pressures of their real lives. It didn’t feel cozy between them now, just mechanical and a little cold, which wasn’t what she wanted. She didn’t just need to get laid, she wanted to feel somewhat loved, even at her age and in her circumstances. At fifty-five, she wasn’t totally ready to give up on tender feelings for a man she slept with, and he seemed to have none for her. Just respect and companionship and appreciation of her body, which was all he had to give. It had never been different, only a little warmer and more fun. But lately, with her family falling apart, she needed more emotional support. He didn’t even know about it, and she wasn’t inclined to tell him.
“I think we’ve kind of done it, Kate,” he said as he finished his coffee. He hadn’t had time to eat the toast. “I’m going to miss spending time with you, but I hate dragging things out once they reach this point. We should quit while we’re ahead and still like each other.” She nodded agreement, and was startled by how quickly he was willing to shed an alliance they had shared for six years. He was ready to toss it in the trash like a used condom, and she didn’t stop him, which startled her too.
Two minutes later, he stood in the doorway, his overnight bag in his hand, smiling down at her, and kissed her.
“Thank you, Kate,” he said, which was meant to encompass six years of sex, weekends, nights, conversation, and a few vacations. “You’re a great woman. Stay in touch. It was fabulous,” he said with a wave and a smile and got on the elevator, and that was the end of Bart Mackenzie. She wasn’t even sure how she felt about it, sad or nothing. It had ended within a matter of minutes. At the first hint of autumn in the air, he had shut it down, and moved on. It told her how little she had meant to him, but she had never really let him into her life either. This was all it was ever meant to be. A casual affair with a handsome senator who lived in another city. There was no real substance there and never had been. She closed the door behind him, and went back to her desk. She had two hours to spend on the work she’d brought home from the office.
She wondered if she’d ever hear from him again, and decided she probably wouldn’t. They would be friendly when they met by coincidence somewhere. She had seen lots of women do that with him, and now she was one of them. She was a woman he had slept with for a while. He had taught her one thing, that if she slept with another man one day, which was never a sure thing at her age, she wanted it to be someone she loved and who loved her. Sleeping with a man she didn’t love, even in a comfortable arrangement like hers with Bart, just made her feel cheap. It was funny how, at every age, in the end, love always mattered. It was the only thing that did. The rest was just smoke and mirrors.
Chapter 12
September and October were every bit as busy and hard as she had expected them to be and sometimes more so. Trials to prepare, depositions to do, discovery to study, witnesses to do research on, new cases, old cases, conferences, meetings, her partners to consult. Work rained on her like a hailstorm. She loved it, but she had no time for anything else, and even worked on the weekends. It gave her no free moments to think about Bart Mackenzie, and after a few weeks, she realized she didn’t care. He hadn’t called and she’d thought he wouldn’t. She was part of his archives now, no longer “active.” She barely had time to talk to her children, although they all seemed to be fine. Stacey’s being introduced to the family had deepened their relationship, according to Tammy. Stacey still had to meet Tammy’s siblings, but she had met her mother and grandmother, which was the most important.
Claire’s pregnancy was advancing, and she said it was beginning to show in October. Kate made a point of calling her regularly, to demonstrate some interest, and Claire was still being cool and bratty. Kate was hearing very little from Anthony, but he sounded happy when she did. Her mother spent three weeks in Palm Beach with an old friend, which alleviated Kate’s guilt about not having time to see her, but she knew her mother understood.
The rest of the time, every waking moment was spent on work. They heard depositions in October for the case being handled by Jack Hirsch and Scott White, who was continuing to be a thorn in her side, and was visibly enjoying it. He interrupted her depositions constantly with objections and tried to get away with everything he could during his own. Jack Hirsch was lazy and old, and happy to let Scott run the case. That irritated Kate too since she could run rings around Jack, but Scott used some of the same tricks she did. It was like a game of chess, and they were equally matched. She always made a point of dressing well for depositions, to intimidate the people they were deposing. Sometimes it worked. She wore six inch heels, and Chanel suits she bought with Tammy’s discount. Jack Hirsch was overweight and his suits were old, and Scott White showed up looking like the cover of GQ. She was sick to death of him and couldn’t wait until the depositions were over. She knew there would be settlement battles after that. She had depositions in other cases scheduled in late October and November. She could easily see herself working like a slave until Christmas. She was used to it, but after a while it became wearing, and the strain started to show. She was tired, and hoping to wrap up several cases by the end of the year.
The last day of depositions in the case was November first and Scott bowed with a little flourish in her direction when they had heard the last one. It ended at six o’clock. At least that was done, and she hoped to see less of Scott White in future until the settlement conferences started. She was sure they would let her sweat it for a while before Scott contacted them. She had plenty of other cases to deal with in the meantime. She nodded at Scott and Jack, walked out of the conference room, and went back to her office.
She left at six-thirty with a briefcase crammed full of work, and when she got to the lobby she saw that it had been snowing all afternoon. She hadn’t noticed it. She hadn’t worn boots since the weather forecast had said it wouldn’t snow until the weekend. All she had was a pair of running shoes in her desk, and the six inch heels she was wearing. She was too tired to go back up to her office and put on the running shoes, and all she had to do was cross the street in front of the building, to hail a cab going in the right direction. She could manage that in heels, and decided to brave it.
When she got through the revolving door, she realized the temperature had dropped dramatically, and the streets were covered in ice wi
th snow on top of it, and salt sprinkled here and there to keep people from slipping. It was like walking on an ice rink, as she crossed the street with the light. She was glancing around for a cab, and as she approached the curb, she didn’t see a sheet of black ice. She slid across it at full speed, and fell knees first onto the curb, as her shoes, briefcase, and handbag went flying. The pain in her knees was excruciating, and she couldn’t stand up in stocking feet. She didn’t even know where her shoes were, and hoped that no one would steal her purse, as she felt powerful arms lift her off her knees and help her hover over her shoes which someone had put next to her. She was fighting back tears and trying to catch her breath when she put her shoes on, and looked up to see that Scott White, her archenemy, had rescued her and was holding her up. When she glanced down again she saw that her knees, shins, and the palms of her hands were bleeding. The pavement and the ice had torn the skin, and the salt she had fallen onto had ground itself into the skinned areas. Both knees were bleeding profusely, with salt lodged in the wounds.
“Are you okay?” Scott asked her with a worried look. He continued to hold her up with one strong arm around her, and the other supporting her elbow. He had a solid grip on her and could feel her shaking.
“I’m fine,” she said in a trembling voice, and he could see that she wasn’t.
“I’m not letting go of you,” he said in a firm, reassuring voice. “Do you want to go back to the office?” She shook her head trying not to cry, as people gathered around them and stared at her. She had made a spectacular landing on all fours. Someone handed her her purse, and another person put her briefcase next to her. Her knees hurt like hell, but she didn’t think anything was broken since she was standing. She suspected that if Scott hadn’t been holding her up, she might have fallen to the pavement again, or fainted. “We need to take you somewhere to clean you up,” he told her. “If I hold on to you, do you think you can make it around the corner? There’s a small hotel where I meet clients before our depositions with you.”
“Yes…really…I’m fine…this is so stupid…thank you…” She didn’t care that she had wanted to strangle him all afternoon and for the past several months in the depositions. He had saved her, and he was being very gallant about it.
They inched their way along on the treacherous ice, while she kept her hold on her briefcase and purse in one bleeding hand. She almost slipped again, but he had a strong grip on her, and just around the corner was the tiny hotel she had never noticed. They had cleared a path with salt on it, and her legs were still shaking as he led her into the lobby and deposited her in an overstuffed leather chair. They both surveyed the damage. There was blood everywhere from her knees to her feet, and the palms of her hands were bloody too. It was all over the beige cashmere coat she was wearing.
“I think it looks worse than it is,” she said, embarrassed.
“I hope so,” he said. “You look like someone tried to kill you.”
“I didn’t know it was snowing and had gotten so icy.”
“The shoes look great on you. It was almost worth it.” He smiled at her. “Now, don’t move, we’ll get you patched up in a jiffy.” He acted as if they were long lost friends, instead of fierce opponents, but she was grateful to him. She’d still have been lying on the street if he hadn’t been there to help her. He disappeared for five minutes, as people walking by glanced at her sympathetically, and a clerk at the front desk came to ask if she needed a doctor or an ambulance. She assured him that she was fine, and her friend was helping her. Scott came back then, with a roll of bandages, some cloths soaked in warm water, and antiseptic.
“You look like you’re about to deliver a baby,” she said, slowly regaining her composure.
“I hope not, although I could if I had to. I was a paramedic in the Navy before I went to law school.” He quickly and gently got rid of the excess blood with the damp cloths, her sheer stockings had literally been torn to shreds and disappeared. He applied the antiseptic, and expertly bandaged her badly skinned knees where the blood was coming from, and her hands. The bandages were neat and well done, and she stood up unsteadily but gratefully when he was finished. He went to dispose of the cloths in the men’s room. He’d gotten what he needed from the hotel employees’ first aid station and was back two minutes later. “Can you walk?” he asked her. “You looked pale when we got here.”
“I’m feeling a little wobbly, but I’m okay. Scott, really, thank you.”
“I don’t think you broke anything, but you may need to get the wounds cleaned. There’s some salt in them, but I didn’t want to mess with it without gloves,” he said and she thanked him again. “You had a nasty fall. How do the knees feel?”
“They hurt a lot,” she said with a sheepish expression. “I feel really stupid.”
“Don’t. It can happen to anyone. Can I take you home?” he asked, looking both helpful and hopeful at the same time.
“If you put me in a cab, I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll have the doorman get one. It’s still snowing.” It was the first big snowfall of the season. Scott spoke to the doorman, and ten minutes later, he had a taxi and helped Kate back out to the street, with his arm around her. He carried her briefcase for her and helped her gently into the cab. She smiled up at him.
“I can’t thank you enough.”
“I’m sorry it happened, but I’m glad I got to talk to you. I hate all this warlike posturing. There should be a time-out for lawyers, so we can shoot the shit with each other. It’s all bullshit and playacting anyway. I’ve been wanting to talk to you since we started,” but it wouldn’t have been proper, so he hadn’t. Now he had the perfect excuse. “If you need to have the bandages changed, call me. I do house calls,” he said and she laughed. She was surprised by how friendly he was, and how easy to talk to. She had pegged him as an arrogant son of a bitch, with strong narcissistic tendencies, but he didn’t seem like that now. “Seriously, I hope you’ll be okay, and it doesn’t hurt like hell tomorrow.”
“I’m usually tougher than this,” she said, still embarrassed.
“You don’t need to be. I thought you were very brave.” He stepped back then and waved, and the cab took off toward her address, moving cautiously on the icy streets, with snow tires. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the seat. She felt slightly sick, but a lot better than she had when she was on her knees on the pavement. She was still thinking of Scott White and how nice he had been.
She was even more surprised when he called her the next morning. It was Saturday, and she was hobbling around the house with her bandages. Her knees and hands still hurt a lot.
“I’m calling to check on my patient,” he said cheerfully. “Do you need a bandage change? An amputation? A Mickey Mouse Band-Aid?” She laughed when she heard him.
“I’m fine. It hurts like crazy, but it’s okay. I’m going to take a hot bath and soak my wounds. I went straight to bed last night. I was still kind of shaken up when I got home.”
“I’ll bet you were. You had a nasty fall. You’re lucky you didn’t break an arm or a wrist. It was nice having a chance to talk to you, like human beings. You’re a noble opponent, Counselor,” and a beautiful woman, he didn’t add. He’d been admiring her since he first saw her. “Would you have a drink with me sometime?” He went straight to the point, and she hesitated. She felt as though she owed him a debt now, and he was much nicer than she would have expected. But he was still the opposing counsel in a lawsuit.
“I don’t think we should. We don’t want either of our clients accusing us of a conflict of interest. How about a raincheck for when it’s all over?” She tried to sound natural about it.
“I’ll hold you to it,” he said seriously. “I hope it’s over soon. Our client is such an asshole. At least yours is a better guy. I hate cases like this. They waste everybody’s time. It’s all about ego and greed, vengeance and showi
ng off. It’s a waste of our collective talents,” and he thought hers were considerable.
“I know. It’s a lousy case. I keep hoping he’ll drop it, but I can tell he won’t,” Kate said with a sigh.
“You’re right there. I’m going to hold you to that raincheck. And park those shoes until next spring, or at least don’t wear them outside.”
“Believe me, I won’t. Strictly snow boots from now on. See you at the settlement conference, Scott.”
And then he thought of something else. “Do you need anything? It’s a mess outside. You shouldn’t go out and risk falling again.” He sounded sincere and she was touched.
“No, thanks, I’m all set. I’ve got enough food here to get me through the weekend.”
“Call if you need anything.” He gave her his cell number. “The Mickey Mouse Band-Aids are kind of cute. I have Cinderella too.” She was laughing at him. He was an entirely different person from the sarcastic, supercilious attorney who had made the depositions a living hell. It reminded her that you really never knew who people were in their private lives.
“You can show me the Cinderella ones at the first settlement conference.” They both laughed at the thought.
“Our clients would love it, especially mine. He eats children for breakfast. See you soon.” They hung up and Kate smiled, thinking about him for a minute. It was nice hearing from a man, even about something as innocuous as this. It had been well over a month since she and Bart had parted ways. It was for the best, and he was right. It had played out, but she missed him occasionally, and a little male attention. Although Scott White certainly wasn’t an option. He was a rival attorney in an active suit and younger than she was, but he had been an efficient rescuer, and it had dissolved some of the animosity and tension surrounding the case. He was human after all, though she was sure he would still be a fierce and aggravating opponent when they met again with their clients. It was his style. But hers wasn’t warm and fuzzy either. It was all posturing, as he’d said.
Child's Play Page 14
