Something True (Joel Bishop Book 2)

by Sabrina Stark

  "No. Something else."

  "Really?" I said. "What?"

  In what felt like a change of topic, he said, "I know this guy in Troy. Utterly ruthless."

  "Oh. What does he do?"

  "He's a lawyer."

  Of course. The legal kind. I should've guessed that. "You mean like a criminal lawyer?"

  "No." Joel gave a low laugh. "And yes."

  "Okay, now I’m really confused."

  "He's an estate lawyer." Joel paused. "And let's just say some of his clients are on the shady side."

  "How shady?" I asked.

  "As shady as they get, which means that sometimes, this guy's gotta get creative."

  "But you said he's an estate lawyer?" I paused. "Wait a minute. Are you thinking of my estate?"

  In a tone filled with humor, Joel said, "Well, I sure as hell don't have one."

  "So what are you saying? You talked to him about my situation?"

  "You might say that."

  "And?"

  "Like I said, the guy owes me."

  "For what?" I asked.

  "Trust me. You don't wanna know."

  I tensed. The last thing I wanted was to see him in trouble again. "But it wasn't anything illegal, was it?"

  Joel paused as if thinking. "Illegal? Couldn't tell ya. Unethical? No. Not in my book."

  The distinction wasn't exactly comforting. I was almost afraid to ask, "So, what did you do?"

  "Nothing that didn't need doing. But forget that. This guy's gonna look at your stuff. That was the deal."

  Now, I was more confused than ever. "But wait a minute," I said. "You said this happened during the last two weeks? We weren't even together."

  "So?"

  "So why would you bother? I mean, you had your own legal troubles, right?"

  "Me?" He gave a humorless laugh. "I'm a lost cause. But you? Shit, I had to do something. The way they were treating you…" Joel's voice hardened. "And what the hell were they gonna do next?"

  I didn't even want to speculate. And the way it sounded, neither did Joel.

  To my utter astonishment, he went on to tell me that the lawyer had already done some preliminary research and was confident that he could help me regain control of the estate.

  I could hardly imagine.

  When Joel finished, I said, "And you said he's really good?"

  "The best," Joel said, "especially if you're willing to fight dirty."

  I bit my lip. "How dirty?"

  "Lemme rephrase that," Joel said. "If you're willing to let him fight dirty." He paused. "With some help."

  "From who?"

  "Me."

  "But what would you do."

  "Whatever it takes."

  On the nearby side table, something vibrated. It was my phone again. I was almost afraid to look. Already, Derek had called me a dozen times, not that I'd answered.

  If I weren't expecting a call from Cassie, I would've turned off my phone hours ago. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option, because she might need me to work tomorrow, and with no other job-prospects, I couldn't risk missing the opportunity.

  I snagged my phone and checked the display. It wasn't Cassie or Derek. It was Mike of all people.

  I gave Joel a nervous glance and let the phone go to voicemail.

  Joel said, "Lemme guess. Derek?"

  "Uh, no. Actually, it's someone else." I was still holding the phone. A moment later, a short vibration announced a new message.

  Joel asked, "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing. Not really." I gave the phone another glance. "It's just that I know what that was about." I sighed. "And you're not gonna like it."

  At Joel's insistence, I gave him a quick rundown of the Mike situation. When I finished, Joel said, "That's it?"

  "Well, yeah," I said. "And now I don't know what to tell him."

  Even now, after relaying the story, I was embarrassed for a whole host of reasons. Not only had I promised Mike an autograph, I'd also supposedly promised some sort of meet-and-greet, involving burgers, beer, and who-knows-what.

  Next to me, Joel said, "If you want, tell him yes. Not a big deal."

  I blinked. "You don't mind?"

  "What I mind," he said, "is seeing you worry about it."

  At this, I had to laugh. "Of course I’m worried. The last time I asked, you practically flipped out."

  "Yeah. And you wanna know something?"

  "What?"

  "If he sends you anywhere dangerous again, I'll do more than flip out again. The guy's an idiot."

  "He is not," I said. "He graduated with honors."

  "I don't care if he's a brain surgeon," Joel said. "Sending you to that fight alone? Makes him dumber than a box of rocks."

  I bit my lip. "So you're still mad about that?"

  "Hell yeah."

  "But you'd still be willing to give him an autograph?"

  He reached out and ran a finger along the side of my cheek. "I would if it made you happy."

  Even as I leaned into his touch, I couldn’t resist pushing my luck. "And what about the cheeseburger thing?"

  He grinned. "Now, you're pushing it."

  "Is that a yes?"

  He gave something like a laugh. "You're lucky I love you."

  It made me think of Jake and Luna, and I couldn’t help but smile. "Yeah," I said, "I am lucky."

  "You know who else is lucky?"

  I was still smiling. "Who?"

  "Him."

  My smile faded. "You mean Mike?"

  "Hell yeah."

  "You mean to get your autograph?"

  "Nah. That's nothing. What I mean is, he's lucky that nothing happened to you that night." His voice softened. "And he's not the only one."

  Smiling again, I pulled up my voicemail and listened to Mike's message. Sure enough, it was exactly what I expected. Eager to seal the deal, I called him back and gave him the good news. The next time he was in town, he could swing by, and I'd make good on all of my promises.

  Maybe it was a little thing, but it was a big deal to Mike, and an even bigger deal to me, because it was just one more sign that Joel and I had finally put all that confusion behind us.

  And soon, we'd be married. Throughout the day, we'd been discussing lots of possibilities – ranging from a big formal affair to a quick getaway in Vegas. Either way, neither one of us wanted to wait.

  Joel was especially eager, which made everything that much more wonderful as we began planning for our happily-ever-after.

  I was so happy, I felt like telling the whole world. And first, I was dying to tell Cassie. But when I did, her reaction was nothing like what I'd been expecting.

  Chapter 22

  Cassie wasn't smiling. "Are you sure he means it?"

  It was early in the morning, and we were assembling trays of cookies in the back room of her shop. I stopped and stared at her across the prep table. "Of course he means it. What are you getting at?"

  "It just seems kind of sudden, that's all. I mean, he's gone forever–"

  "It wasn't forever," I said. "It was just a couple of weeks."

  "I know." She glanced at my empty ring finger. "But – I hate to say this – but it didn't seem like he really planned it, you know?"

  I almost didn't know what to say.

  So what?

  It had been spontaneous and wonderful. Even if I could, I wouldn't have changed a thing. Why couldn't Cassie, of all people, see that?

  I tried to smile. "You know, he wanted to shop for rings today, but…" Recalling where I was, I let the sentence trail off, unfinished.

  Across from me, Cassie spoke the words I'd been too polite to say. "But you had to work?" She looked toward the front of the shop. "If you wanna go, just go. I totally understand."

  I studied her face. She didn't mean it. And besides, I didn't want to go. Sure, I'd love to be out with Joel, regardless of what we were doing, but Cassie needed nearly a thousand cookies for some bridal show in a neighboring city.

  With tourist seaso
n long-gone, this was a big deal for her. In fact, it was probably the only reason she could justify having me work today at all. Technically, my seasonal job had ended weeks ago.

  But all of this was beside the point. Her reaction to my engagement stung. Oh, sure, she'd given me the perfunctory congratulations, but I could tell that her heart wasn't in it. And now, she was questioning Joel's sincerity?

  I didn't like it.

  She was my employer, but she was also my friend. Probably, she was my best friend, especially now, with everyone else gone away to college. And yet, she wasn't acting anything like the friend I thought I knew.

  If you wanna go, just go?

  As her words hung in the air, I recalled everything that she'd done for me over the past few weeks. She'd listened to me cry. She'd dragged me out for coffee, whether I wanted it or not. She'd cajoled me into smiling and handed me tissues when I couldn’t.

  Through everything, she'd been the one person who seemed to truly get it. And now, she didn't.

  Trying not to sound as hurt as I felt, I said, "I don't want to go."

  She gave me a dubious look. "Are you sure?"

  "Of course I'm sure. You do need the help, right?"

  With a shrug, she turned away, heading toward the storage area. When she disappeared behind a row of packed shelves, I returned my attention to the cookies. They were shortbread cookies, decorated to look like flowers – wedding flowers, obviously.

  I wanted to smile, but my heart wasn't in it. So far, Cassie had been the only person I'd told. Aunt Gina was still in France, and we'd been playing telephone tag over the last day or so. I was beyond eager to tell her, but not by email or text.

  My aunt was a walking bundle of energy. I wanted to hear her excitement and listen to her squeal in surprise, like she always did when she received happy news. And this was happy news, wasn't it?

  I felt my jaw clench. Yes. It was, regardless of Cassie's reaction. When she returned a few minutes later, I asked, "Is something wrong?"

  She gave an irritated sigh. "There is now."

  Bracing myself, I asked, "What?"

  Frowning, she pointed toward the front of the shop. "You've got company."

  Chapter 23

  I turned and peered around the corner. And sure enough, there he was, Derek, standing just outside the front entrance. He was peering in through the glass door, as if searching for activity inside.

  It was early. We were still closed. But of course, that never stopped him, did it?

  I glanced at the clock on the far wall. It was only nine-thirty. Even if I did want to talk to him, which I didn't, I couldn’t justify taking a break just yet. I said, "Maybe if we ignore him, he'll go away."

  "Or maybe," Cassie said, "he'll pound on the glass 'til it breaks."

  Was that a joke? Just in case, I tried to laugh, but it didn't come out quite right – not that it mattered, because soon, just like Cassie had predicted, Derek was banging ferociously on the glass.

  I bit my lip. Cripes, maybe it would shatter.

  Looking more irritated than ever, Cassie said, "Just so you know, if he breaks the door, I won't be the one paying for it."

  Color rushed to my face. "Of course."

  At something in my expression, she sighed. "I wasn't talking about you. I was talking about him." Under her breath, she added, "Ass-hat."

  Choosing to believe she was referring to Derek, I said, "Do you want me to get rid of him?"

  "From the looks of it, you'd better." Her mouth tightened. "And if you need to, grab the bat."

  We kept a baseball bat behind the front counter. Although the thought of clubbing Derek was oddly satisfying, I skipped the bat and marched straight to the door.

  When I pulled it open, he barged in and said, "What the hell is going on?"

  From the back room, Cassie called out, "We're making cookies, dipshit!"

  Derek stopped and looked around. From where he was standing, he couldn’t see Cassie, but he'd obviously heard her just fine. He lowered his voice. "Was she talking to me?"

  Cassie called out again. "You see any other dipshits in the store?" Her head poked out from around the corner of the back room. "And just so you know, that door you were banging on? It was four-hundred bucks."

  Derek frowned. "So?"

  "So, you break it, you buy it." Without waiting for a response, she pulled back, disappearing, once again, into the prep area.

  Derek turned and gave me a questioning look.

  Was he expecting sympathy? If so, he was looking at the wrong person. "Listen," I said, "we've got a lot of work to do, so whatever you're gonna say, just say it and get it over with."

  "Or what?" he said. "You'll tell me to fuck off again?"

  From the back room, Cassie called out, "If she doesn't, I will."

  Derek turned and glowered in her general direction. "What's her problem?"

  I didn't answer. Obviously, there was a problem. Maybe the problem was me. But that was none of Derek's business.

  I asked, "Why are you here?"

  Now, he was glowering at me. "Well, I can't exactly go to your house, can I?"

  Obviously, he meant because of Joel, who'd made it perfectly clear that he'd be the one dealing with Derek from now on, because he didn't want me stressing about it.

  It was sweet, even if it was a little overprotective.

  "Well?" Derek demanded. "Don't you want to say something?"

  "Like what?"

  "Like you're sorry, for starters."

  Now, it was my turn to scoff. "Why would I be sorry?"

  "For what you said."

  "You mean cursing you out?" I wasn't sorry, and I saw no reason to pretend. "You totally had it coming."

  "I did not," Derek said. "And while we're talking, a thank you would be nice."

  My jaw almost hit the floor. Over the past few weeks – no, months – he'd caused me nothing but misery. If I weren't so irritated, I might've laughed in his face. "You can't be serious."

  "Sure, I am. You owe me."

  "For what?"

  He gave me a what-the-hell look. "You did get my message, right?"

  I tried to think. And then it hit me. On my way back from seeing Jake and Luna in Detroit, Derek had called to tell me that he and his dad wouldn't be trying to get Joel arrested for violating the terms of that suspended sentence.

  But of course, by the time I'd received that message, I'd discovered something that had changed everything. The suspended sentence was toast.

  I had to wonder, did Derek know? And if he didn't know, should I tell him?

  No, I decided. Definitely not.

  The less Derek knew, the better. I gave him a thin smile. "I shouldn’t have to thank you for living up to your promise."

  "Oh, that's funny," Derek said. "What about your promise?"

  "To give up Joel?" Now, I smiled for real. I didn't have to give him up, and I wasn't planning to, ever. Feeling suddenly cheerful, I said, "That's none of your business."

  "Are you forgetting, we had a deal?"

  What a joke. "You mean the deal you tried to break?"

  Derek stiffened. "Well, I'm not breaking it now. So you're gonna get rid of him, right?"

  I smiled. "Nope."

  Derek stared at me. When I said nothing else, he said, "Nope?"

  "That's right," I said. "And I might as well tell you, this interference, or whatever it is, I'm not having it, not anymore. Joel's staying." I lifted my chin. "And there's nothing you can do about it."

  Derek gave me a nasty smile. "Wanna bet?"

  I smiled right back. "Sure."

  Derek blinked. "What?"

  I made a breezy motion with my hands. "Bet away. Knock yourself out."

  His eyebrows furrowed. "Knock myself out?"

  From the back room, Cassie called, "If it helps, we've got a bat!"

  Derek glanced in her general direction. "What does that mean?"

  I looked toward the door. "It means I've gotta get back to work." When he d
idn't move, I added, "That's a hint, by the way."

  He still didn't move. "But we're not done talking."

  "Oh, we're done," I said. "And that goes double for your dad."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean, go ahead. Sue me, kick me out of my house, whatever. I'll work it out." As I listened to my own words, spoken out loud for the first time, it suddenly struck me that I meant everything I was saying.

  What was the worst thing that Derek or his dad could do? Have me physically evicted? Drag me to court and make a giant spectacle of this whole sorry situation?

  Well, my life was already a spectacle. And if he booted me from the house? Well, I'd find a way to get it back. I wasn't alone anymore, and I was tired of being bullied.

  Derek's gaze narrowed. "It's because he's back, isn't it?"

  Maybe. But it wasn't the only thing.

  I'd been only sixteen when my parents had died. I'd been a scared teenager, looking for guidance from the people I knew. But I wasn't a kid anymore, and it was long past time for me to seize some control.

  Feeling suddenly inspired, I said, "And by the way, that endowment? I'm making sure that Joel gets it."

  Derek's mouth fell open. "The art endowment?"

  As if he didn't know. I smiled. "That’s the one."

  "But you can't."

  "Sure, I can," I chirped. "Remember? I refused to give his slot to anyone else."

  It was true. And it wasn't only due to sentimental reasons. Joel was by far, the most talented painter I'd ever seen, with the possible exception of my dad. None of the other candidates had a prayer of filling Joel's shoes, and I saw no reason to pretend otherwise.

  I thought of my dad and all that he'd been able to accomplish in the fifty-plus years he'd been on this Earth. He'd been amazing – as a dad and as a painter.

  But Joel was just starting out. What could he accomplish if he focused on it full-time? Suddenly, my heart felt lighter than it had in forever. Thanks to the endowment, Joel would finally have that chance.

  Feeling embarrassingly smug, I said, "Oh well. The cookies are waiting." I made a little shooing motion with my hands. "Off you go."

  Derek was staring again. "What's gotten into you?" He leaned closer to study my face. "Are you on something?"

  Yes, I was. And his name was Joel.