by Jill Shalvis
“Thank you. Now shut up.”
“Why don’t you take it outside, fellows-unless you just happen to like it here?” Sergeant Smartmouth suggested.
Andrew withheld comment until he and Eddie were out of the station and in Eddie’s car.
In the close confines of his sedan, Eddie wrinkled his nose. “Jeez, you stink. Did you sit too close to a drunk or what?”
“No, buddy.” That was a new name he’d learned to loathe this evening. “You’re smelling genuine dog urine. After Toto helped me body-tackle the policeman, he relieved himself on both of us.”
From the driver’s seat, Eddie made a choking sound. Andrew showed remarkable restraint in not finishing the job for him. He hated to render his only sister a widow and his niece fatherless.
Suddenly, bone weary, he laid his head on the back of the seat. “Edward, my life is out of control. My life has never been out of control. In the past three weeks I’ve been photographed publicly groping a woman, gotten married, had my eye blackened, had a room of three hundred think they heard me having sex with my wife, had my wife toss crystal at me like I was target practice before she left me, been double-crossed by my father, peed on by a dog twice and now arrested.” He didn’t throw in and fallen in love. It was too illogical for him to accept. “And do you know what I’ve done every night since Kat left?”
Eddie held up a hand to stop him. “I’d rather not know if you’ve been seeing Mary Thumb and her four sisters.”
Andrew shook his head. He’d resorted to several cold showers but not that. Not yet anyway. That couldn’t begin to compare to his memories of the taste, feel and smell of his wife that were driving him mad. “Oh, no. I go home after work every night and water her damn flowers.”
“Congratulations!” Eddie blew the car horn for good measure.
“What?”
“Congratulations on joining the real world.”
“Pull over.”
“Why?”
“You must be tipsy, and I’m not riding with anyone who’s been drinking.”
“Um, I think that’d be you. When I told you earlier tonight-or I guess last night now-to talk to Kat, I didn’t mean right then. But think about it. You’ve lived more since you met Kat than you have in your entire lifetime. And you just wait until the baby comes.”
Andrew recognized the truth when he heard it. But that didn’t mean that he had to like it or accept it. He countered, as much out of habit as conviction, “The law has always been my first love.”
Eddie pulled up in front of Andrew’s house. “That’s a load of bull! Sometimes I can’t believe you managed to graduate summa cum dummy from Harvard. The law is the law, whether you’re practicing at Winthrop, Fullford, and Winthrop or Lawyers ‘R’ Us. But you know what? There’s only one Kat Winthrop, and I believe they broke the mold with her.” Eddie reached across Andrew and opened his door. “Now get the hell out of my car, and try not to get arrested in the next twelve hours. I need my beauty sleep.”
11
K AT BURIED HER HEAD underneath her pillow and willed the pounding to go away. Another minute and she realized it wasn’t her head. Reluctantly, she pulled herself out of bed. Pushing her hair out of her eyes, she shrieked at the face pressed against the bedroom window. Her mother appeared unrepentant as she motioned for Kat to let her in the front door.
Kat made the increasingly familiar trek from bedroom to front door. She’d come to the beach house seeking solitude. This was more like Grand Central Station. At Thanksgiving. Maybe even Christmas. She opened the door.
“I knocked and knocked, and when you didn’t answer, I thought maybe you were dead or something, so that’s why I was looking in through the windows.” Her mother sailed past her, backed up and gave her a quick hug. “I’m glad you’re not.”
Kat hadn’t gotten back to sleep until Eddie had phoned her on his cell phone, assuring her that Andrew was home and the charge would be dropped. Sleep-and caffeine-deprivation scrambled her mother’s rambles. “Huh?”
“Dead. I’m glad you’re not dead, dear.”
Kat headed for the kitchen, or more specifically, the coffeemaker and hit the red On button. “Thanks. I consider that a bonus this morning.”
She opened a package of Fig Newtons and offered one to her mother. With practiced ease, Kat managed to fill two coffee mugs and replace the glass carafe under the streaming liquid with barely a spill.
Her mother gestured to a behavior modification tape. “What’s that?”
Desperate, she now listened to several a day. “My new best friend.” Was that a problem when you became excessive with your moderation tape? She was too tired to think about it.
Joining her mother at the table, Kat sipped the hot, strong brew. “Aah, nectar of the gods. Would you like to tell me why you’re here, Mother?”
“Jackson spilled your beans, dear.”
“I’m already not speaking to him for the rest of this life. He just screwed up the next one as well.” Kat paced to the deck door and back. “Can you request a particular reincarnation? I’d like to be a bulldog with rabies just so I can bite Jackson in the ass.” And she was only partially teasing. The idea held great appeal.
“That’s blasphemous. I think.” Without blinking an eye, her mother picked up Kat’s coffee cup and emptied it down the sink. “Anyway, he did what he thought was right.”
Kat’s mouth gaped open at her empty cup. “Why’d you do that?”
“You’ve got to lay off the high-test if you’re pregnant.” Her mother opened the refrigerator, filled Kat’s coffee cup to the brim with milk and placed it on the table. “Now that’s just what our little zygote needs.”
Kat shrugged in resignation. Sometimes Mother did know best. Would her little zygote think the same one day?
“Kat, since you were a teenager I’ve tried not to meddle in your life. And maybe that’s been a mistake on my part. For years, I’ve felt guilty that I didn’t try to do anything about Nick. I knew he was wrong for you. And sure enough he wound up hurting you.”
“Mom, you couldn’t have changed anything.”
“Maybe not, but we’ll never know. But this time I’m not going to stand by and say nothing while you make another mistake.”
Kat dunked a fig cookie into her milk. “Mom, I know Andrew’s a mistake. That’s why I’m here.”
“Andrew’s not a mistake. That’s why I’m here.”
“If Jackson spilled all my beans, then you know he, Andrew and Eddie deliberately deceived me. I need a straight answer, Mom. Are men genetically incapable of the truth? Or is there a sign on my back that says Fool- Play Me?” Tears threatened to spill over. Kat yanked herself up by her Fig Newtons. She’d never been the weepy sort. She’d made it through her Nick fiasco without shedding a tear.
Her mother gentled a strand of hair behind her ear, much like she’d done when Kat was a small child. “It felt like the thing with Nick, didn’t it?”
Kat nodded, managing a single word. “Worse.” Anything more and her waterworks would start up. No need to ruin a perfectly good breakfast of milk and cookies with salty tears.
“I think Andrew’s taking the heat for Nick, too.”
Kat opened her mouth to protest and shoved a cookie in instead.
“You came home one day and Nick was simply gone. You were left with a public and private mess you had to deal with on your own. You never even had the chance to confront him.”
How many times had she fantasized about throwing the contents of the china cabinet at Nick’s lying face? How much of the Waterford pitched at Andrew had also been intended for Husband Number One?
“Maybe.”
“Andrew’s not like Nick. Nick used and abused for his financial gain. And, honey, that bad karma’s gonna crawl all over him one day.”
“I don’t care.” The words emerged without rancor and she meant them. She felt the tremendous weight of her anger at Nick slip away, freeing her. Kat jumped up and danced a jig around the
table. Nick had been a pimple on the ass of her progress-and he’d been a very big one-but she’d finally let it go.
Her mother’s smile echoed her own joy. “I do believe you mean it. Andrew just wants to protect his child. And I don’t care about all the contracts in the world, you and that young man love each other. It was plain as day to me and Vince. You and Andrew just need to figure it out.”
Her elation over Nick vanished in light of her situation with Andrew. Deflated, she plopped back into her chair. “I have, but I think it’s too late. He reads the Wall Street Journal and even his blue jeans have creases. But last night I wouldn’t open the door and then he started to sing and I didn’t know what to do when the police took him away-”
“The police?” Her mother interrupted her babbling with a screech.
Kat gave her mother a rundown of the predawn debacle. “So, now my Harvard-graduated-soon-to-be-prestigious-law-partner husband has a police record. I’ve made a shamble of things.” The last syllable ended in a wail.
“Katrina Anastasia Hamilton Devereaux Winthrop, pull your hormones together. I’ve always admired your grit. If you wanted something, then, by golly, you went after it. If you want this marriage to work, give it your best shot.”
Kat reached for the last fig cookie. “You know I’ve never mastered that moderation thing.” The empty cookie container lent its own silent testimony. The tapes on the table stared at her in silent accusation. “And yes, I want him. To excess. Because that’s the way I do things. It’s either all or nothing and I can’t settle for nothing from him.” Despite her bravado, her heart thundered in trepidation. She wouldn’t allow herself to even consider the nothing alternative. She’d taken that route this week and it stank.
Her mother tossed the empty cookie wrapper in the garbage with a smile. “That’s my girl. I checked before I came over this morning and tomorrow’s numbers showed something special.”
Kat walked her mother to the door, her brain racing like a runaway locomotive. “I think I’ll give my husband today to recover from his jail time and hangover. But tomorrow morning, he won’t know what hit him.”
Her mother threw out one last piece of advice. “Honey, invest in one of those home pregnancy tests. I believe I’m gonna be a grandma.”
ANDREW LEANED AGAINST the stucco wall and aimed the shower of water at the profusion of pots flanking the front door. His reconciliation attempt with Kat last night had wound up an exercise in humiliation. Eddie’s words echoed in his brain like a litany. The life he’d had and the future he’d envisioned before Kat no longer meant anything. She’d turned his house into a home. She’d brought him into the land of the living. With gusto. The best sex in his life was mere icing on the cake-although he’d developed quite an affinity for icing.
And if Kat turned out to be pregnant, he’d make the best damn dad any kid could want. Juliana and Toto liked him well enough, and weren’t kids and animals supposed to be the best judges of character?
That was all just damn great except for the niggling detail that she wouldn’t even talk to him.
He squinted against the afternoon sun as a car turned into his driveway. Claudia. And he’d thought the past twenty-four hours couldn’t get any worse. Even if he turned the water hose on himself he wouldn’t drown before she got to him. Too bad.
He ignored her as she climbed out of her car and swayed down the walk. “You look like hell.”
Aside from trading his dog-marked pants for a pair of shorts, he still had on the previous night’s clothes. He hadn’t shaved in two days. Nor had he combed his hair today and he knew his eyes were bloodshot. “I look better than I feel. I don’t know what you’re doing here, but go away, Claudia,” he growled in no uncertain terms.
Claudia’s practiced pout came into play. “There’s no need to be nasty, darling. A.W. told me he thought your, um, circumstances were about to change. Then Mamie Prewitt told me she’d seen her out at the beach house all this week. I just wanted to let you know I forgive you for marrying that dreadful woman. I’m ready to stand by you.”
Andrew fought to keep his expression neutral. Kat had more going for her in her little finger than Claudia did in her entire phony package. “Just satisfy my curiosity. How much is A.W. paying you?”
“Now darling, don’t be that way. He’s just concerned about you,” she purred. Stepping closer, she trapped his arm in the valley between her silicone mountains. Her eyes narrowed to slitted seduction as her tongue licked suggestively along her lower lip. The perfected moves of a courtesan. “I believe I could satisfy much, much more than your curiosity.” She trailed a red nail down his chest to the waistband of his shorts.
The thought of touching or being touched by any woman other than Kat repulsed him. He took a slight step back, eyeing Claudia cagily. She, in turn, took a larger step forward, wrapping her fingers around his arm, a seductive smile stretching her mouth into a red slash.
It cheered him immensely to realize that Kat was the only woman for him. He offered Claudia a genuine smile, deciding her jets needed cooling.
Turning his entire body to face her, the stream from the water hose caught her square between her jutting hipbones. Her shriek could have woken the dead.
He strove to appear contrite as he redirected the water hose. “Sorry. You just shook me up there, Claudia.” That much was true. She didn’t have to know she’d revolted him.
He watched with amusement as she strove to contain her anger. A.W. must have really sweetened the kitty. “I suppose I’m flattered I have that effect on you, darling.”
If you only knew.
“Perhaps I could come inside and dry off.”
Over my dead body. But it wouldn’t come to that. Andrew made a slight move with the water. She jumped back like a scalded cat. “Let’s not rush anything. I’ve got a meeting with A.W. in the morning. Why don’t you join us. Nine-thirty. His office,” he instructed. He planned to get his proverbial house in order before he began his courtship of his wife in earnest.
Premature satisfaction swept away Claudia’s annoyance. “I’ll be delighted.”
If you only knew.
KAT TUCKED THE HOME PREGNANCY stick into her purse and vowed not to look at it again until she reached Andrew’s office where they could check it together. The box specified first thing in the morning. Something about concentration of hormones. Exhaustion had claimed her the night before and she’d overslept this morning so concentration shouldn’t be a problem.
Odds were that she and Andrew weren’t on their merry way to parenthood. She’d always thought she’d magically, mystically feel different when she conceived.
Nothing.
Nada.
Zippolo.
Oddly enough, she felt fine at the prospect of not being pregnant. She still wanted a baby-her and Andrew’s child. But it was no longer a mission. Winning Andrew came first.
She tossed a suitcase into Charlemagne. As she opened her door, Toto settled into the passenger seat. Nine o’clock. Half an hour to the esteemed offices of Winthrop, Fullford, and Winthrop. Half an hour until she laid siege to her husband.
“Come on, Toto, we’re going home.”
ANDREW HUNG UP THE PHONE, satisfied with his conversation with Eddie. A new sense of purpose and determination had claimed him following his arrest. He pressed the intercom connecting him with his secretary.
“Gloria, I’ll be leaving for my nine-thirty with A.W. You and I need to meet afterward. See if you can set up a lunch meeting with Joey Chalmers. I’ll be out of the office this afternoon. Oh, yeah-and see if you can’t find some boxes.” He straightened his tie.
One last stab at the intercom.
“Also, have a dozen Waterford crystal tumblers delivered to my beach house before noon.” He briefly indulged in a smile before he regrouped. He wouldn’t allow himself to think of Kat now. He had to get this meeting over with.
Andrew left his office through the side entrance leading to the partners’ hallway. His her
itage flanked him. Ornately framed generations of somber, sober Winthrops watched as he made the trek down the long hall. Nodding at his father’s secretary, he let himself into A.W.’s office.
His father sat planted behind his desk. Claudia draped herself on the leather sofa lining one wall, an inordinate amount of leg showing.
Andrew stepped forward.
Closed the door behind him.
And embraced his destiny.
“Father. Claudia. I’ve reached a decision. As you know, the law’s always been my first love…”
KAT EYED THE LOBBY of Winthrop, Fullford, and Winthrop with affection. Why, she’d used that very sculpture to stake out Andrew! Toto strained in that direction. Tugging on his leash, she redirected his attention. “Come on, Toto. Let’s go see Daddy.” She tried out the name for practice. It had a nice ring.
A uniformed guard stepped into her path. “Excuse me, ma’am. The dog’s not allowed.”
“Dog? What dog?”
The guard’s pointed look zeroed in on the leash clasped in her hand.
Kat scooped up Toto in the best interests of the man’s pant leg. Covering his canine ears with her hand, she bluffed. “Oh. This dog. We don’t use that word. He doesn’t think he’s a d-o-g, and it upsets him to no end.”
The man eyed her as if she were a nut case. “Oookay. He still can’t come in.”
Kat didn’t want to waste her time arguing with this man. She had a mission. In for a penny, in for a pound. “His grandfather’s going to be very disappointed. Perhaps you know him, A.W. Winthrop.”
Mr. Lingley-that was the name on the badge-snapped to attention. “Certainly. Mr. Winthrop. He…that is…” The poor man stumbled around the concept of A.W.’s attachment to a dog.
“He just adores him.” If he knew Toto, he would, Kat justified to herself. She offered Mr. Lingley her most engaging smile.
Moving aside, he pressed the Up button on the elevator. “Sorry to bother you, ma’am. Have a nice day.”
