Always My Own (Always Love Trilogy #2)

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Always My Own (Always Love Trilogy #2) Page 12

by Tawdra Kandle


  I’d winced. “Not sure I’m ready to show my face in the bar yet. Not after making a fool of myself so spectacularly.”

  Trent had just rolled his eyes. “Honey, if I can go there and work, after all the times I got wasted in that bar, you sure as hell can come over and hold your head high.” He’d winked. “C’mon, woman up.”

  Our conversation had lasted through dinner, into clean-up—Trent never let me wash dishes on my own—and well into the late night, when we’d sat at opposite ends of the couch as the room grew darker.

  Finally, I’d stretched and yawned. “I know you don’t have to get up as early tomorrow, but I’m exhausted. Apparently being a fucking bitch jailor takes it out of me.” I’d made sure that my voice had a teasing note, so Trent would realize I wasn’t serious.

  “Yeah, I know. Thanks again for doing that—for making sure she didn’t go out. I’d hate to have spent tonight tracking her down instead of having dinner with you.” He’d held my eyes, watching me, gauging my response.

  I’d stood up, smiling. “I agree. I wouldn’t have wanted to miss a minute of tonight.” And then, gathering up all my brave, I leaned over the sofa and kissed him.

  It was just a good-night kiss, brief, but it was somehow filled with promise. Trent brushed my cheek with the back of his fingers while he whispered to me.

  “Good night, Elizabeth. Sleep well.”

  I’d wanted to snag his hand in mine and pull him toward me, lead him down the hall to the bedroom he’d given up for me, invite him back to his own bed. But I couldn’t do it, not with his mother across the hall and everything still so unsettled. So I’d only nodded and walked myself to the lonely bedroom, leaving him on the couch.

  “No,” I repeated now. “Not again. We just talked until late. It was . . . it was good.”

  “I’m so glad, Elizabeth. I’m happy for Trent about his new job, too. Please pass on my congratulations.” One of the reasons I liked Cory so much was that I could tell she truly did care for Trent. She’d long ago looked beyond the defensive kid with the chip on his shoulder and seen the hurt little boy who pretended his mother made him cookies every day.

  “Enough about me.” I leaned back in my chair, staring out the window at the raindrops. “No news on the grandbaby front?”

  Cory groaned. “No, and I think Flynn’s about to drive Ali around the bend. Every time she sighs or makes a face, he’s sure she’s in labor. The other day, Bridget told me, ‘Grandma, Daddy’s a mess!’”

  We both laughed. I knew Cory was almost as anxious as her son, but she’d been through this process before. She maintained an air of calm that apparently Flynn couldn’t master.

  “You’ll keep me informed, though, right? Even if I’ve never met Ali and Flynn, I feel like I know them.”

  “Of course. And once the baby’s here and things get back to normal, I want you and Trent to come over for dinner and meet everyone. I talk about you to the kids, and I’m afraid they think Mom has an imaginary friend.”

  I giggled. “That sounds like fun. It would be good for Trent to get back in touch with his old friends, too.” The prospect of us doing something like that together, like a real married couple, made my heart sing.

  “I think you’re right about that. Oh, bother—someone just came in. I guess I have to go be a librarian. Talk to you later, dear.”

  “Thanks, Cory. Bye.”

  I ended the call and laid my phone on the desk. I had another fifteen minutes before the conference call with my clients, and I hadn’t had anything to eat yet. Maybe I could call over to Franco’s and see if they’d deliver a salad—

  “Ahem.” I jerked my head up to the doorway, which was now open. Gladys occupied all the space between the edge of the door and the jamb, regarding me steadily.

  “Yes? What do you need?” I picked up a pen and tapped it against the desk blotter. I didn’t like being short with her, but it seemed this woman couldn’t understand any other way.

  “Your conference call with Mr. Jacobs and Mr. Abercrombie is in—”

  “—fifteen minutes. I know. Thanks.” I pushed away from the desk and stood up. “I told you, Gladys. I don’t need reminders for these things. I’m an adult, and I’m capable of keeping my own schedule.”

  Her mouth tightened. “Of course. Whatever you say. But you haven’t met these men, and they’re both sticklers for promptness. You wouldn’t want to run late.”

  “You’re right, and I won’t. Thank you, Gladys.” I turned my back, clearly dismissing her the same way I’d seen my dad do with soldiers all my life. I hated having to be like him.

  Once I heard the door close again, I picked up the phone and dialed over to Franco’s. The man on the other end promised he’d have my salad to me in ten minutes, which I figured would be just enough time to eat a little of it before I made the client call.

  As it happened, Franco’s delivery boy was actually at the office in five minutes. I complimented him on his speed and gave him a healthy tip as Gladys looked on in silent disapproval. She’d informed me during my first week that Clark had never ordered food to be delivered to the office. He ate lunch every day with his dear wife at their home. And when clients were involved, he always took them out to eat.

  Just to spite her, I left my door partially open as I enjoyed my salad. And out of the same motivation, I might’ve made some rather loud yummy noises as I crunched the croutons.

  In fact, I got so carried away that I nearly forgot my conference call. Wiping my fingers hastily on the paper napkin, I jumped up to close the door and then flipped through the files on my desk to find the right numbers.

  This conference call was the first one I’d made in my new job. Back in the Cove, all of my clients were so close that it was easier to just meet in person rather than to do something like arrange a joint phone call. And yeah, I should’ve looked a little more closely into what setting up a call like this entailed. But I’d figured that it couldn’t be too hard. I’d seen the button on my cell phone that said “three-way calling”. How much more difficult could it be on a landline?

  As it turned out, the answer was that it was very freaking complicated. I started out by dialing Mr. Jacobs’ number. As it rang, I searched frantically for the button that would let me add in Mr. Abercrombie. But there was no button. I turned the phone upside down and ran my fingers over every inch of it, but there was nothing.

  Meanwhile, Mr. Jacobs was answering the phone. “Well, I was beginning to wonder what was holding us up. Good afternoon, Miss Hudson. Darryl, how are you today?”

  I gritted my teeth. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jacobs. I haven’t been able to get Mr. Abercrombie on the line yet. Still getting used to the phone system, you know—if you’ll give me just a moment—”

  “Do not put me on hold.” He issued the decree as though he were God on high. “I don’t appreciate that one bit. Inane music without words and then half the time you’re cut off and no one’s the wiser.”

  “I won’t, I promise. Just let me see—”

  “Where’s the lovely Mrs. West? Why didn’t she put the call together today?” Mr. Jacobs persisted in talking, which was distracting me from solving our problem.

  “She’s, uh, she’s just down the hall at her desk, but don’t worry, I’m perfectly capable of doing this.”

  At that very moment, another button lit up on my phone. I was afraid that if I pressed it, I might lose Mr. Jacobs, which clearly was a tragedy he couldn’t handle. I sat staring at the blinking light, listening to the old man drone on, helpless to do anything. I wanted to cry.

  “Miss Hudson.” Gladys knocked on my door and leaned in. “I am terribly sorry to disturb your conference call, but Mr. Abercrombie just called in, wondering if he had the wrong time written down. He’s been waiting for you to call him.”

  I stared at her, hating with every fiber of my body the mean triumph in her glittering eyes, knowing that if I’d been a little more patient, a little less cocky, she would’ve told me how to do
the call and I could’ve avoided this mess.

  But it was too late now. I wasn’t backing down. I cleared my throat and covered the receiver in my hand. “Thank you, Gladys. Please tell Mr. Abercrombie to hang up and that I’ll be patching him in directly.”

  Once Gladys had closed the door again, I drew in a deep breath and spoke into the phone. “Mr. Jacobs, I am horribly sorry. I have this problem solved now, but unfortunately, it’s going to require us both hanging up so I can connect you into the same call.”

  Mr. Jacobs humphed and sighed, letting me know he was unhappy, but he finally did hang up. I picked up my cell phone and within a few minutes, I had both men on three-way calling. The quality of the call was not wonderful—Mr. Jacobs kept roaring, “What did you say, Darryl?” But we accomplished what we needed, and at the end, both men seemed pleased.

  When I hung up, I was a sweaty mess. Who knew that a conference call was such a high-anxiety deal? I made a few notes in the file and dropped my head to the desk. It was my own damn fault. I should have just swallowed my pride and asked Gladys to set it up for me. I would’ve had to deal with her supercilious smile, but the clients wouldn’t have been affected, and I wouldn’t be sitting here, wiped out by talking on the telephone.

  I sat up and glanced over the other papers on my desk. Nothing was pressing; while nearly all of Clark Morgan’s clients had made the transition to me, I’d learned pretty quickly that he’d maintained a light load. Gladys acted as though everything that came through the office was a matter of life or death, but in reality, most of what I saw were property transfers, wills and the occasional traffic violation. If I’d thought practicing law in the Cove was low-key, Burton’s legal activity was practically comatose.

  I finished a few last minute things, signed a letter and glanced over the calendar. No court dates were upcoming. The days and weeks stretched out in a long line of monotony. Sighing, I stood up and slung my purse over my shoulder. It was only mid-afternoon, but I didn’t have any good reason to stay in the office. I wasn’t sure where I was going, but I needed to get away.

  I intended to walk past Gladys without saying a word, but apparently she had other plans. She cleared her throat.

  “Well, that was a fiasco.” Her hands were folded on the top of the desk. “You may very well have lost two of the most important clients this office has. This is typical of you, isn’t it? You don’t take anything seriously. You’re going to run this practice into the ground, and it doesn’t matter to you, of course, because you can just go off on your merry way. But if this office goes under, I lose my job. And I’m not ready to retire yet, not by a long shot. Perhaps it’s time for you to think about someone other than yourself.”

  She spewed her poison at me all the while her face stayed calm and serene, as though another voice was speaking through her façade. I paused, turning to face her.

  “Gladys, I took care of the call. Was there a better way? Yes, I’m sure there was. But regardless, I made it happen. Mr. Jacobs and Mr. Abercrombie were both fine. They’re not leaving the practice. I’m not running anything into the ground.” I stopped to take what I hoped would be a calming breath. “I understand that how I do things isn’t how you would. I know I’m not Clark. But believe me, I know what I’m doing. However, when you undermine me at every turn, it makes both of our jobs so much more difficult.”

  “Undermine? I haven’t done any such thing.” She rolled her shoulders. “If anything, I’ve gone out of my way to make sure that this transition runs smoothly—”

  “Bullshit.” I hissed out the word. “You’re sitting up here like a spider in her web, just waiting for me to make a misstep so you can pounce. I don’t understand why, though. If you’re so worried about losing your job here, I’d think you’d do anything possible to help me succeed. I can only think that despite what you say, proving you’re in control is more important than making sure we both do well.”

  “That’s a fine way for a lady to talk,” Gladys huffed. “This office has always been one of decorum and class. I, for one, plan to uphold that standard, even if you do not. As for everything else you’ve accused me of doing, I’m not going to justify that with a response. I don’t need to lower myself to your level.”

  I don’t know precisely what happened next. Something in me popped, as weeks of her constant sniping and my simmering resentment bubbled to the surface and exploded like a shaken can of soda.

  “My level?” I bent over the front of her desk, my fingers gripped the edge. “Seriously? I’m the one who agreed to keep you on here for a year, out of the goodness of my heart. Did you know Clark put that in the contract? And I agreed to it? Believe me, lady, if I’d known you beforehand, I’d have run in the other direction. I’m doing the best I can here. Do you think it’s easy to come into a new town, where I don’t know a soul, and where I’m fully aware people are talking about me, because I’m living with Trent Wagoner? It isn’t. I’ve been moving all my damned life. I’m used to pretending everything’s peachy when it really sucks. I can put up with so much shit, it’d make your head spin.

  “I’m used to the mean girls, the ones who talk about you out of spite and have a mission to make your life miserable. You know what? That’s what you are. Nothing more than a big overgrown mean girl who’s been stupid enough to let this fucking law practice become her whole life. You’re scared shitless that I’m going to force you out of here, and then what’ll you have? Nothing. Because you’re a horrid person.”

  My hands were shaking as I pushed back away from the desk. My heart was pounding, and there was a tinge of red around my vision. I swallowed hard and lobbied my last fatal blow.

  “No wonder your husband ran out on you. He probably couldn’t stand to be near you one minute longer.”

  I had the fleeting satisfaction of seeing her face go white and her eyes widened. Humiliation and hurt filled them, and immediately any vindication I felt gave way to horrified remorse.

  “Gladys—I’m sorry—I don’t know why I said that—” I managed to stammer out a few words before she pushed herself to stand and fled down the hallway, where she wrenched open the door to the restroom and disappeared inside.

  Tears filled my eyes. God, how could I have been so cruel? One thing I’d prided myself on all my life was never responding, never lashing out against the people who’d made my life difficult. I didn’t like Gladys; I hated how she acted, but I had no right to say what I did.

  I knew she wouldn’t want to see me now. Nothing I could say would take away the pain I’d caused. My sight still blurry, I wrenched open the door and stumbled out into the main foyer.

  “Elizabeth?” Will Garth stood in the doorway of his own office space, frowning. “Everything okay? I thought I heard shouting.”

  I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes to staunch the flow of tears. “That would have been me. Sorry. Things got a little out of hand with Gladys, and I’m afraid I lost my temper.” I tried to draw in a deep breath, but it came out more like a sob.

  “Hey.” Will came to my side. For a moment, I was afraid he was going to reach out to touch me, but he didn’t, instead rocking on his feet as he stared down, his brows furrowed. “Want to talk about it?”

  I shook my head. “No. Thank you, but—no.” The last thing I needed was a complication in the form of Will. I’d seen him with a fair amount of regularity over the past weeks; we’d pass in the entry way or out on the sidewalk. It hadn’t amounted to more than small talk or exchanged pleasantries, but there was an undercurrent of interest on his part that made me uncomfortable. I liked Will, but my life was screwed up enough without introducing another man into the midst of it.

  “You sure?” This time he did reach out and lay a hand on my shoulder. “Let me take you over to Kenny’s for a cup of coffee. My treat.” He smiled, and part of me wished I could say yes. Will was sweet and easy, and I had a feeling that being with him would be the same way. There wouldn’t be any of the angst and uncertainty I felt in my rela
tionship with Trent. I’d have stability and dependability. Maybe the passion and fire would be lacking . . . and if I were another woman, that might be okay. But I wasn’t. As it turned out, I thrived on the passion. I needed it. I didn’t know where or how Trent and I were going to end up, but I wasn’t ready to give up the chance to find out.

  “Thanks, Will.” I patted his hand and then ducked out from under his arm. “But I don’t think I’m very good company right now. I’m going to get out of here for a little bit, try to get my head on straight. I’ll see you later.”

  Before he could catch up with me again, I pushed open the front door and sprinted down the steps. My BMW was down the street, parked against the curb; this part of Burton didn’t have much in the way of public parking other than street side. I climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition. The rain had slowed down to a drizzle, but I turned my wipers on intermittent anyway before I pulled away.

  I hadn’t done much exploring beyond the immediate borders of town. Now I followed the main street past the shops and churches and turned onto the highway, where I opened her up.

  Forgetfulness, total mind-numbing amnesia was what I was seeking. I didn’t want to remember the words I’d said to Gladys or the ugliness Donna had spouted at me the night before. I didn’t want to think about the confused mess of my feelings about Trent or the way Will had looked at me. I wanted to pretend legal briefs, filings of motions and the past month didn’t exist.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a gold blur coming from the shoulder of the road. Before I could react, a sickening thud hit the side of my car. Braking as hard as I could, I swerved and came to a halt.

  “Oh my God, oh my God.” I couldn’t stop shaking or chanting the words as I grappled for the door handle. When the door opened, I almost fell out of the car in my haste to see what I’d hit.

  In the middle of the road, several yards from where I’d stopped, a golden retriever lay. The dog’s sides were heaving, and even from where I stood, I could hear a soft whining.

 

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