Before, I found modeling for an art class to be almost asexual. I’d thought about my Target shopping list. But this time, all I could think about was Jake’s hands on me, his lips on my skin, his fingers making me come. The caresses he gave me, the way he was thoughtful and honest.
Dammit.
I had to give him a second chance. Once this case was done, I was going to do it. But I needed to figure out a way to tell him.
In what seemed like no time at all, the professor called time, and I went back and changed. This time I hurried, and when I was done, half of the class, including Jake, was still putting away their art supplies. I walked straight over to him as he was putting his pencils in the box and packing up his bag.
“Hi,” I said, not knowing what else to say.
“Hey,” he responded, looking at me with an unreadable expression. I felt a little hopeful.
“Can we talk?”
He looked at me with heat and longing. My heart leapt. But then he shook his head and let out a sigh, picking up his art pad and his supplies. “It’s not a good time, Lucy.” And then he walked away from me.
When I returned from the art class, Georgie took one look at my face and knew what had happened. In an instant, she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and called Sara for emergency backup, and the two of them sat on either side of me while I cried.
Yet again. Dammit, now I was crying all the time. But I allowed myself this day of wallowing.
And then I tried to seal off my heart and move on. I’d done it before. I would simply toughen up again and set my emotions aside.
But I couldn’t help but hope that Jake and I would still get a second chance.
A week passed. I bought Christmas presents for Roberto, my friends, and my family. I saw things that would be wonderful for Jake—a blue scarf that would match his eyes, art supplies, books of photography of Santa Barbara. I didn’t buy him anything, but I kept thinking about him. Rob and I put up a little Christmas tree. We decorated. I went to Rob’s Winter Pageant, where he wore a Santa hat and sang “Jingle Bell Rock.”
But I never saw Jake. Each day, I heard him leave, following his regular routine of early morning workout, then early to work. But he came back later and later, and he never knocked on my door. I made sure never to go out when I heard him coming or going.
I missed him.
The guy in the car outside my house stayed parked there, watching my door most days. I was almost used to him now. It had to be pretty boring watching my door. Still, Carlos could spend his money however he liked, as long as he paid for his son.
About one o’clock on the Monday of the first day of Roberto’s winter break, my phone rang. I was sitting at the computer, writing, while Rob read a book. It was Amelia.
“Lucy, is there any chance that you can come in today? Carlos’s attorney set an emergency ex parte hearing for tomorrow, and we need to prepare.”
“What?”
“He filed a request for an emergency order that would give him custody of Rob over Christmas break.”
Why? Why would he do this? That asshole. “He goes twelve years without having him on Christmas and he wants him now? You can’t be serious.”
“I am. Can you come in?”
I thought for a second. I needed a babysitter. Yes, Rob was probably old enough to watch himself. I didn’t care. My kid, my rules.
But I couldn’t call my mom. She was at work and this was the busy season for grocery stores. Sara would be busy at Macy’s, working overtime. Georgie was going crazy at work doing year-end bookkeeping for the auto parts dealer. “I don’t have a babysitter. Can Rob come and wait in the lobby?”
“It’s probably going to be most of the day and into the evening. Let me see if Jake can do it. He just finished up a case.” Before I could stop her, she’d put me on hold. I stewed about my legal troubles with Carlos. I didn’t have time to think about Jake right now. I trusted him with my kid for a few hours. I just didn’t trust him with my heart.
“He’ll be over in a few,” she said. “I’ll see you when you get here.”
And before I could protest, she hung up. Shit.
About a half hour later, there was a knock on the door and Jake stood, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.
“I hear you need an emergency babysitter.”
I nodded. “Thanks. Come in.”
He walked in my home. I didn’t know what to say. The last time he was in my entranceway, I’d kicked him out. The time before, I’d fucked him.
I let out a breath. “You had time to change out of your suit?”
“I figured I shouldn’t watch Rob in a tie.”
After a pause I said, “Well, let me show you where things are.” I walked him around and showed him the cabinet with snacks for Rob, the paper with emergency phone numbers, and how to work the television, just like any other babysitter.
Unlike any other babysitter, however, he still looked like he belonged in an underwear ad, and worse, he’d hurt me.
“Roberto,” I called down the hallway.
He came padding out, wearing socks and sweatpants and a Minecraft t-shirt with a creeper on it. “Mister Jake is going to watch you while I go to a meeting, okay?”
“We’ll be fine,” he assured me. Then he turned to Rob. “Why don’t you show me what you like to do? Your mom says you like Minecraft. Why don’t you teach me how to play?”
I needed to get going. I had no time to worry about this. “Listen, call me if you need anything. Either my cell or, well, I’ll be at your office.”
Jake nodded. Rob looked uncertain.
“Okay, I’m going to go now,” I said uncomfortably, and picked up my purse and keys and walked to my car, past the guy sitting in the parked car.
He didn’t follow me. Weird. Maybe he wasn’t watching me at all. Maybe he was following someone else. I saw him talking on his cell phone as I took off.
When I got to the law firm, Amelia greeted me warmly and handed me a stack of papers. “Mr. Castro has petitioned for the Court to allow him extra time with Roberto over winter break because he says that since Roberto is out of school, he has more time to spend with his father.”
“That’s ridiculous. Carlos is working. He just wants to get a precedent set so that it looks like Rob spends more time with him.”
“That’s what I think, too. We need to prepare your testimony for the hearing tomorrow and plan our defense.”
Four hours later, we were still going through documents. We’d ordered food and worked in a conference room, practicing my testimony, coming up with new strategies, and preparing my case. No wonder Jake worked such long hours. It took a lot of time to get it right.
Another hour and a half later, I pulled up in my dark parking lot at home. No PI in a car.
I opened my door, figuring that Roberto had played Minecraft the entire time and Jake was bored out of his skull wanting out of there.
My living room looked like a hurricane had hit it. A complete disaster area. Cushions piled up on top of chairs and propped against each other, all over the place. Jake sat on the floor underneath the table, doing something with a blanket. Rob kneeled, surrounded by cushions in another part of the room, connected to Jake with pillows and blankets.
They’d made a fort.
Jake was playing with my son.
The top of the table was covered with construction paper, crayons, scissors, tape, glue, and drawings. It looked like they had created all of the characters of Minecraft in three dimensional paper sculptures. There were several pizza boxes next to it and a two liter bottle of soda.
Rob was building, playing. In heaven.
I’d never felt more relieved. And like the Grinch, my heart grew several sizes.
Jake clambered up from underneath the table, looking sheepish. “I’ll, uh, just help clean up. We were making a village in Minecraft.”
“Stay. Have a drink with me.” Then I said to Rob, “Time for bath and bed, mijo.”
Rob nod
ded. “Thanks, Mister Jake. It was fun playing with you.”
And my heart grew another size.
Rob padded down the hall, and I heard him turn on the shower. Jake and I put the living room back together, setting cushions back on the couches and folding blankets, putting them back in the hallway closet. He took the pizza boxes outside and threw them away, and I put the craft supplies away. I left the art projects out, though, displaying them on the mantle next to the Christmas stuff. So my house wasn’t going to be in a magazine. Who cared? My son was more important.
I heard the shower turn off. I went in, and once Rob was dressed, I tucked him in bed.
“How was your babysitter?”
“So cool. We played Minecraft, then made the village, and made the zombies and the creepers and Steve and everything.”
I leaned over and kissed him, pulling up his blanket. “Good. I love you, mijo.”
“Love you, Mom.”
Turning off his light, I paused in his doorway and looked at him, all cuddled in his bed. Then I went back out to Jake, who was now sitting on the couch, which had returned to its normal status.
“Want a drink?”
“Yeah.”
I went into the kitchen and opened a beer for Jake and poured a Skinny Girl margarita for me. I may have kept Jake’s favorite 805 beer on hand. Then I went out to the living area and handed the bottle to Jake, sitting in the arm chair next to him. I took a sip of my drink.
“How was watching Roberto?” I asked, trying to be casual.
He smiled, but it was his sad smile. “It was fun.”
I looked at him, questioning.
He took a drink of the beer and leaned closer to me. “Here’s the truth. I see a kid like that and I think it’s Ethan. So it’s hard for me to be around kids. When I first got here, it was a little weird. He reminded me of my brother. I’m never going to get over that.”
“Oh, Jake.”
“But then I realized that I had a living, breathing kid here now and we had fun.”
Yay.
Just then there was a knock at the door.
Since Jake was in my house, it had better not be a process server. I opened the door. It was the private investigator-type guy who’d been sitting in his car for days looking at my door.
“Is Jacob Slausen here? He wasn’t next door.”
“Who’s asking?” I said, my hand on my hip.
“I’m here to serve him with a subpoena to testify tomorrow at an ex parte hearing in the matter Carlos Castro versus Lucinda Figueroa—”
“Give me that,” Jake interrupted, grabbing the papers.
Shit.
The Santa Barbara courthouse, a historic, 1920s Spanish-style edifice, took up most of an entire city block. It was built with the traditional red tile roof and white stucco, but very grand, not humble. You walked on large, terracotta tiles to your courtroom, heels clicking and echoing in the corridors. The ultimate indoor-outdoor building, with virtually no security because many of the downstairs hallways lacked a wall on the inside, instead opening to a courtyard in the middle. In keeping with the style, heavy, dark wood furniture, massive doors, and signs painted in the distinctive Santa Barbara font served as decoration. Centrally located, tourists visited to see old murals and tapestries or walk in the gardens with lush landscaping. This was all very nice.
But if your fucking ex who didn’t care about the welfare of your child forced you to go here during Christmas break, it sucked balls.
I walked up to the courtroom with Amelia, who was pulling a wheeled black briefcase behind her that clacked over the mortar of the terracotta flooring. She looked tough, no nonsense, in a dark skirt suit. I felt proud and confident that she was my lawyer, but I was still fearful of what was going to happen today. She gave me instructions.
“No matter what happens, I don’t want you to have any reactions to what Carlos says. I don’t want you to roll your eyes or sigh or do anything like that. Remember that the judge is watching you and you want to be on your best behavior.”
I nodded, but it was going to be difficult to do what she said. The challenge arose immediately because Carlos stood outside the courtroom, to the left of the door, presumably waiting for his attorney. Jake stood to the right of the door. The league of men in my life.
Thirteen years after we’d dated, Carlos remained very good-looking, although now he gave off the aura of a used car salesman. He had always dressed nicely and today was no exception. Clearly wanting to impress, he wore a shiny, light gray button-down shirt, with a matching tie and black slacks. He reeked of cologne, with a sharp haircut and a slim physique.
Following Amelia’s instructions, I ignored him. That was hard to do. I really wanted to tell him that he had no right to do what he was doing. That I thought he had an ulterior motive. That I didn’t believe him. That he had not shown one iota of interest in Roberto until recently, and that this was just a ploy to stop paying child support. I held my tongue, though.
While Carlos looked like a snake, Jake, on the other hand, was really imposing. He always wore suits as if he’d been born in them, but today, he was a statesman. Cufflinks shiny, stylish watch exposed, just the right amount of cuff showing at the sleeve. He shook Amelia’s hand grimly, but barely acknowledged me. Amelia had made me sign a written consent for Jake to testify, which I’d done early that morning. But it felt so strange to have him here when I’d hardly talked with him. I took a deep breath and crossed my fingers, hoping that it would turn out well, reminding myself that I had my excellent attorney and my regal neighbor on my side. I wasn’t alone.
At least I assumed Jake was on my side. I hadn’t talked with him about the testimony. Last night, Jake took the papers, stared at them, and then muttered, “Goodnight,” closing the door behind him before I could properly thank him for watching Roberto. I went to bed dreading the next day. While if I lost, it didn’t mean that I lost Roberto forever, it would mean that this Christmas, I wouldn’t have him with me and my heart could not take any more bruising. And it could be precedent to losing him forever.
No. That couldn’t happen. I wouldn’t think that way.
The bailiff unlocked the courtroom and we filed in. Our hearing was the only matter that morning so we immediately sat at the tables in front of the judge. Since Jake was a witness, he did not come in with us. Carlos sat at the other table with his attorney, an older man.
And the clock ticked.
Carlos whispered in his attorney’s ear and his attorney whispered back.
The clerk shuffled papers.
Amelia sat, calmly waiting.
My heart rate went up.
I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to cry. I wouldn’t cry. I would not let him see me cry.
After an eternity, the judge, a woman thank God, took the bench.
“Castro versus Figueroa. Are the parties ready to proceed?”
“Yes,” said Carlos’s attorney.
“Yes, Your Honor,” said Amelia.
“Proceed,” said the judge. “I have read the parties’ briefs. I am not convinced that this is an emergency requiring ex parte notice, but I understand that the holidays are coming up. Do the parties waive opening statements?”
Both attorneys said yes. I had almost no idea what they were talking about. After the first few minutes that felt like an eternity, now it felt like an eternity in a few minutes. It was all going so quickly now. The judge continued, “First witness, counsel?”
Carlos’s attorney spoke. “We would like to call Carlos Castro to the stand.”
I didn’t want to have to listen to him. But I did it.
For the next half hour, Carlos told the court how much he wanted to be with his son, and how he had rights as a father, and how he just wanted to spend some time with his son and I wouldn’t let him. Guided by his attorney, Carlos testified that he was employed but he wanted Rob to spend more time with his family.
If any of that were true, I wouldn’t have a problem with it. The th
ing was, it was complete bullshit. Carlos didn’t care about Roberto. If he had cared, he would have been there when Rob was young. This was about money, not about Rob.
God, exes. If only they would go away and you never had to see them again. But Carlos just kept ripping the wound open again and again.
His attorney asked him about the years that he’d not spent with Roberto. Yeah, I wanted to know that, too.
With crocodile tears in his eyes, Carlos said, “After years of not having it all together, I’m now, you know, in a place where I really want to see my son. I want to be a part of his life. And I think he wants to be a part of mine. And it’s in his best interest to spend more time with me. Because his mother is nothing more than a nude model, which is not wholesome for my son in any way.”
An indignant squeak came out of me and I wanted to stand and give him a piece of my mind, but Amelia put her arm across my chest like she was bracing me for a crash and said, “Objection, nonresponsive, move to strike.”
My heart pounded. Seriously? It was art. They couldn’t use it against me. What if the judge believed him?
“Sustained.”
What did that mean?
The judge asked Amelia if she had any questions for Carlos, but she said, “No questions at this time, Your Honor.”
Finally Carlos got off the stand and his attorney said, “Petitioner would like to call Jacob Slausen to the stand.”
The bailiff went out to the hall to get Jake.
Not looking at either me or Amelia, Jake strode confidently to the witness stand, was sworn in, and sat down.
“Mr. Slausen,” said the attorney, “isn’t it true that you are Lucinda Figueroa’s neighbor.”
All the Waters of the Earth (Giving You ... #3) Page 8
