by Nadia Lee
“Oh yeah, I know. Don’t worry, she’s doing fine. She has Ethan, the prototypical over-protective husband, plus her sister- and mother-in-law fawning over her. Barron, too.”
“I almost feel sorry for her,” Justin said. “Barron must be impossible to deal with.”
“I think Ethan’s doing a pretty good job of handling him.” Nate tapped his lip. “It’s going to be you next, you know.”
“Me?”
“Baby.”
Justin narrowed his eyes, wondering if Nate suspected something.
“You’re the Heir Apparent, so it’s your duty, hahaha. Barron’s already muttering about it. Carry on the family legacy, and all that. I’m not interested, of course. Gonna be single forever and leech off my inheritance.” Nate smiled like a cat with a bowl of fresh cream. “Anyway, I’m leaving now. Got a party to catch.”
Which explained why he was in San Francisco.
“And if you want to keep your little affair a secret,” Nate leaned in from the doorway and affected a stage whisper, “you might not want to expense the trips.” He left, waving a hand.
Justin cursed. Rita generally took care of his expenses—personal and otherwise—and she’d probably assumed his trips to L.A. were work-related. Besides, her default mode when it came to his expenses was to assign them to Sterling & Wilson. He made a mental note to talk to her about that. Hopefully Barron was too distracted to read the auditors’ report carefully. He didn’t want his great-uncle wondering what he was up to.
* * *
“So tell me how you have the time to join us for yoga,” Hilary asked, doing a final stretch on her mat. Sweat from the session glistened on her skin.
Jane nodded. “Yeah. I thought you were the career-minded one.”
“Oh, I am.” Vanessa sat up. “But now I’m on strict orders not to work more than forty hours a week. And everyone at the firm hates me.” Well, not quite everyone, but it was pretty close. And the feeling wasn’t always hate. Many of them pitied her, convinced she was going to get screwed in July. She shared the sentiment, despite what John had said.
“Why can’t you work overtime?” Hilary asked.
“No idea.” But the work had gotten a bit more challenging. Now she was writing a series of articles on some of the finer points of sexual harassment.
“That’s weird,” Jane said. “But Iain told me you work too much, so maybe your firm is trying to help you not burn out.”
“Hah. It is to laugh. Believe me, Highsmith, Dickson and Associates doesn’t care about burned-out associates.” Any associate who burned out was welcome to leave. If they didn’t leave on their own, the firm “counseled them out”—a nicer term to describe a pink slip.
“Is this a subtle hint to get you to do more pro bono?” Hilary asked.
Vanessa snorted. “Doubtful. The partners think I do too much volunteer stuff as it is, except they don’t say that out loud because they don’t want to sound like jerks. The second I pick up a juicy pro bono case is one half-second before they dump an important ‘one hundred and twenty hours a week’ case on me.” She sighed softly. “It doesn’t matter. At least I got a good workout with you guys.”
“Definitely.” Hilary nodded. “And hey, I think it’s great that you’re working fewer hours. You positively glow these days.”
Vanessa forced a smile. If they only knew! “Hilary…do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”
“Go ahead.”
Vanessa hesitated. It seemed a little rude to bring up the past, when Hilary had run the other way from Mark, but this was important. Now that she had so much free time, all she did was google Justin’s old girlfriends and dates and mull over those gorgeous women, thereby proving the saying about idle hands true. But she couldn’t help herself.
She knew, intellectually, that she was pretty, thanks to her mother. But all the others who buzzed around Justin had won a similar genetic jackpot. How could he resist all those beauties? Her father hadn’t been able to, not when he was married to one of the most gorgeous women of her generation, not when he’d professed to love her.
Swallowing, Vanessa chose her words carefully. “Mark’s reputation’s always been pretty bad when it came to relationships…”
Hilary laughed. “That’s putting it mildly.”
“So… what made you sure he’ll be different with you?”
“He loves me.”
“That’s it?”
Hilary shrugged. “That’s all I need to know.” She leaned closer. “Why? Are you having issues?”
“No, not at all.” Vanessa wasn’t telling Hilary and Jane about her secret marriage. “Just wondering if you had some kind of concrete proof. I mean, how can we know for certain what’s in people’s hearts?”
“Sometimes it’s just a matter of trust. If I didn’t believe him, I wouldn’t be with him, no matter how many times he told me he loved me.”
Vanessa scraped her bottom lip with her teeth. Hilary spoke so beautifully and bravely. But unlike her, Vanessa didn’t have the courage to make that leap of faith. The sweeter and more magnetic Justin acted, the greater her fear grew—the day might come when she wouldn’t be able to derive a drop of happiness without him. Would she become one of those women she saw in her pro-bono work—the ones who put their men’s approval and happiness over everything else, including their own children’s welfare? Cold terror brushed her as the possibility unfolded in her mind. To be so…dependent… “I’m going to get some water and go home. How about you?”
“I’m heading out too. I have a lot of work to do tomorrow,” Hilary said.
“Ditto,” Jane said.
Hilary worked for one of the richest and busiest men in the world, and Jane was becoming better known as a private chef. Vanessa stopped herself from asking how Hilary could have faith in Mark, knowing his history as an impossible playboy. Even though Hilary was the perfect person to talk to about her doubts, Vanessa didn’t know how to broach the subject while keeping her own marriage secret.
She waved them good-bye and went to the water fountain. She peed more now, but was also thirstier than usual. Her doctor had advised her to make sure she wasn’t dehydrated.
Vanessa waited for her turn. A willowy brunette in front of her started to put water into a bottle. She turned around. Freckles dotted her face, and her nose was just a tad too large for the rest of her features. “Hi. Sorry, my bottle’s sort of big.”
Vanessa smiled. “No problem. You were in the yoga class, right?”
“Yeah. I figured I’d join to meet some people. I’m new in town.” The brunette’s plump pink lips curved into a shy smile. “I’m Peggy Teeter.”
“Vanessa. Where are you from?”
“Provo. In Utah? I got a job in L.A., so I moved out here about three weeks ago. It’s so different here, and it’s not always easy to make friends.” She flushed. “Oh my gosh, look at me babbling. Sorry.”
“Not a problem. I know how it can be when you’re new.”
Peggy moved aside when the bottle was full.
Vanessa started filling hers. “My brother just got engaged. Next time, I’ll introduce you to his fiancée. She’s not from around here either, and I’m sure she’d appreciate a friend.”
* * *
Watching Vanessa leave the studio, Peggy drew in a long, steadying breath. She’d thought Vanessa would be spoiled and snotty given how she’d grown up and what Stan had said, but she was actually really nice. Peggy had wanted to ask to talk with her privately, but for some reason hadn’t been able to. Nice or not, something about Vanessa intimidated her.
Peggy recalled Vanessa’s look of pure concentration when they’d been doing the yoga. She was all class and money and unbelievably beautiful. Even without any makeup post-shower, she was still stunning. If she hadn’t become a lawyer, she could’ve been in fashion magazines. Nobody would believe she and Peggy had anything in common.
But there was something. Even if Vanessa had everything Peggy didn’t.
She swallowed bitterness. Ceinlys thought she could be stingy and get away with it. She’d soon learn otherwise.
* * *
Justin was home by the time Vanessa returned from the yoga studio. He was in a dress shirt and slacks, his tie loose. She smiled to herself at how sexy and handsome he looked, then she pulled back and tried to study him with a more objective eye. No matter how hard she searched, there was no hint of meanness, just solid security and something that was too big and deep to be called mere affection. He would love his child to pieces and… And just maybe he’d love her one day too.
“You seem to be in a pretty good mood,” he said.
“I got to exercise with Hilary and Jane.”
“Nothing too strenuous?”
“Yoga. Not that bad.” She kissed him on the mouth. “Have you eaten?”
“No.”
“Let’s get some Chinese then.”
“Again?”
“What can I say? I’m craving sweet and sour pork with fried rice.”
Justin raised a hand in surrender, pulled out his phone and ordered Chinese for two.
She cleared her throat. “I have something to show you.” She dug through her purse and found the print-out of the baby. “Here. From the visit from this afternoon.” She handed it over and shifted, leaning close.
As he looked at the tiny dot, awed happiness suffused his expression. Her heart squeezed, and she almost couldn’t breathe.
“I can’t believe how small he is,” he whispered, his voice full of reverence. “And…he’s such a handsome dot.”
He reached for her and held her tightly. She hugged him back, her eyes closed as she savored the sweetness of the moment.
“Dr. Silverman said everything’s progressing well,” she murmured.
“How good is this doctor?”
“Very. She delivered Gavin and Amanda’s baby.”
Justin nodded. Gavin Lloyd was a billionaire who insisted on nothing but the absolute best for his wife. “I wish I had been able to go with you.”
Vanessa squeezed his hand. Her phone beeped, but she ignored it. Probably just work. She sighed, wondering if she was being overly insistent about her promotion being all on her own merit. At the same time she couldn’t help but mull over the fact that John put her on a series of odd assignments. Perhaps he was testing her to see if she’d use her connections to make him stop or something.
If she’d brought in her family’s or the Sterlings’ business, maybe he would quit driving her insane. On the other hand, she didn’t want to get promoted based on that. She never wanted anybody to wonder if she had become successful because of her family. She’d worked too damn hard to allow that kind of talk.
“Who spat in your soup?” Justin asked.
“What?”
“You looked like somebody spat in your soup.”
“It’s nothing.”
She didn’t want to talk about it with Justin in case he decided to “help” by intervening with her partners. He’d become extremely protective recently. The one good thing about only working forty hours was that it preempted Justin from calling the firm and telling the partners that they were driving her too hard. A sudden thought crossed her mind, but she dismissed it immediately. Not even Justin would be able to make Highsmith put a perfectly good associate on a forty-hour week schedule. If the mystery client wanted to pay a hundred hours for only forty of real work, Highsmith would have had her put in the remaining sixty on other cases. There was always something to do at the firm.
“Really. I’m fine,” she added when Justin looked skeptical.
“Okay. Hey, have you thought about moving?”
“No… Why?”
“The place is too small for a family of three. And I know we haven’t talked about it, but I think you should get someone to come in for housekeeping. Maybe once a week or so.”
She made a face. “You’re risking the couch, you know, with your thinly-veiled criticism.”
He laughed. “Just thought it’d make your life easier. It’s going to get harder and harder for you to move around.”
“Let me think about moving. But in the meantime, I guess we can have housekeeping.” Actually Vanessa had been wanting to scrub the place from top to bottom. She just never had much time after work and yoga, and she didn’t want to waste her evenings with Justin.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it? We’ll find a trustworthy service that can come in, clean and do the laundry and so on while you’re at work.”
“Perfect. You think of everything.”
“Somebody’s got to.” He kissed her. “You have no idea how anxious it makes me that we can’t announce to everyone we’re married already. If I had it my way, you’d be on leave from the firm to rest with your feet up all day long.”
“You’re sweet when you get all protective. But the doctor said it’s okay for me to work. Apparently it’s actually good that I get out and not bore myself to death. The baby can feel my moods. I don’t want a bad one to affect it.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m going to quit worrying. You don’t know what you and this baby mean to me.”
When he spoke like that, she could almost forget her doubts about their future and impending motherhood. She snuggled close to him and held his hand. Was this what a good, loving relationship was supposed to feel like? She tightened her grip on him. “I’ll be careful, Justin.”
Chapter Thirteen
Vanessa went to the office the next morning. Justin had left early, promising to come back as soon as he could. Now that she couldn’t work weekends, he’d reintroduced the idea of flying to Mexico for a getaway. She’d agreed. She was going stir-crazy without anything to do at the firm.
“Hi, Zoe,” Vanessa said to her secretary, but Zoe didn’t even raise her head to say hi back. She was staring at her monitor in rapt absorption. “Zoe?”
“Oh my gosh! I didn’t see you.” Zoe put a hand on her chest. “Did you hear the news?”
“What news?”
“There’s been an accident. A private jet lost control and skidded off the runway in San Francisco and crashed into a crane.”
“A crane? At the airport?”
“It says they were doing some expansion work.”
A cold dread formed in her belly. “Whose plane?”
“Justin Sterling’s.”
Spots swam in front of her. Her knees buckled, but she caught herself against a filing cabinet. They’d just kissed each other good bye only a few hours ago. She couldn’t believe it might have been their last one.
Zoe jumped to her feet and grabbed Vanessa. “Are you all right? Vanessa?”
She blinked, trying to clear her vision. “Did anyone…were there any survivors?”
“So far only one seriously injured, and two with minor injuries. They didn’t say anything else.”
“Nobody…died?”
“I guess not. I don’t know.” Zoe’s face was filling her vision, looking concerned. “Here.” She handed Vanessa a tissue. “Wipe your tears.”
“Oh.” Vanessa hadn’t realized she’d been crying.
“Do you know Justin?”
Vanessa nodded.
Zoe’s face tightened. “I hope he’s all right.”
“Thanks.”
Vanessa managed to drag herself to her office, locking her door. She was shaking so violently that she finally collapsed on the carpeted floor, feeling like she was going to throw up. Was it Justin who was seriously injured?
Hands over her belly, she rolled onto her side. This was all her fault. She’d been so resentful of his high-handed act in Chicago that she’d insisted on keep their marriage secret, claiming she didn’t want her in-laws to affect her career. Now that she thought about it, she could’ve just told her partners she wouldn’t be used to bring in her in-laws’ business either. If her refusal to persuade her family to bring its business to the firm hadn’t hurt her, a refusal to get the Sterlings for Highsmith, Dickson and Associates wouldn
’t have either.
Her fault, her fault.
She pressed a fist against her mouth, trying to muffle a sob.
My god…Justin…
She should google for updates on the accident. But every time she tried to sit up, nausea hit her. She lay back on the floor and prayed harder than she’d ever prayed before.
* * *
Justin paced in the hospital. His pilot was seriously injured, while he and the cabin attendant had some bruises. There would be an investigation into what had actually caused the accident, but he was certain it was due to the poor visibility at the airport with thick and heavy fog.
He wanted to call Vanessa, but he’d forgotten to charge his phone the night before, and there was no juice. And now they were keeping him at this damn hospital.
“I’m fine,” he told the doctor again.
“We have to make sure,” the man said. A pair of rimless glasses sat on his long, pale face. “You may feel okay at the moment, but you might have other injuries you may not be aware of.”
“People are going to worry.”
“We notified your brother, Mr. Sterling. And I’m sure your family will be just as relieved to hear you were a model patient.”
The doctor was smiling, but Justin wasn’t in the mood for levity. Nate didn’t know about Vanessa, and she would undoubtedly hear about the accident. Hopefully she wouldn’t worry too much. “Fine. Make it quick.”
The doctor scheduled an MRI and CAT scan among other things. Justin wanted to bang his head against the wall, but he couldn’t blame the man for being thorough. He knew who Justin was. If anything happened to Justin because of medical negligence, Barron Sterling would descend upon the hospital with a horde of lawyers. Everyone knew what a vindictive asshole Barron could be.
It wasn’t until noon that the doc finally told him what he already knew. “It’s a miracle.” Still the doctor prescribed some painkillers, just in case Justin felt sore, and discharged him.
“To your office, sir?” his chauffeur asked.
