“Splendid. I look forward to seeing what she turns up.” Brown eyes mellowed, enhanced by the tawny color of his suit, the rich blue hues of his shirt, and the current of warm affection opened between them. “Do you regret your inclusion of Vic on the case?”
Startled, she blurted, “No—why?”
“Now that you know he’s closely involved with the target of your complaint,” Raul raised his brow, “you may feel he’s a liability.”
“Too close, you mean,” she said, quietly piecing together the significance of what he wasn’t saying.
“Yes. Now that you’re aware it’s his family involved.”
Which brought to mind the Marin-Marinelli cover-up.
“No,” she said. “Not really.” There was no way she could tell Raul the truth. That she didn’t have the heart to take this away from Vic. He was too consumed with closure. He deserved it, needed it and far be it from to her to deprive him of the justice he so rightly deserved.
But it did raise the question of Raul’s initial insistence. “I’m sure,” Sam said, grateful for the surge of strength in her voice. “Vic will be fine.” She paused, hovering over Raul’s expectant gaze. Seemed he knew more was coming.
Which she intended to deliver. “Why did you keep his real name a secret?”
“Because he asked me to. He explained the situation and I agreed.”
“Is that why you pushed him on me?”
Amusement danced in his eyes. “Pushed him?”
“Encouraged me to include him,” she modified. “Weren’t you concerned it might jeopardize our case? After all, winning should trump coddling every day of the week.”
Raul chuckled and he shook his head, a confident complacency softening his gaze. “I knew you’d remain lead counsel and the case would proceed as it should. I merely wanted to give him the opportunity. To be a part of justice.”
“I see...”
He laced fingers together and laid them to rest on the shiny black wood of his desk. An impeccable array of diplomas hung from the wall behind him, accompanied by photos of friends in high places. It proved a subtle reminder of who was boss around here. “I have full faith in you, Sam. I knew you’d be fine.”
But something hidden deep inside her hinted she was far from fine.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Jessica glanced up from the sofa as Sam opened the door to the condo. Buried in a corner cushion, she hugged a pillow to her chest. Maybe if she ignored Sam, the two wouldn’t have to talk.
“Have you spoken with Luke?”
But that would have been too easy, Jessica thought, and ignored the question.
“I said,” Sam raised her voice in competition with the music video blaring from the television screen, “have you spoken with Luke?”
“None of your business.”
“You made it my business when you landed on my doorstep.”
“Not by choice,” she replied and tried to remain calm.
“Drop the attitude. Answer the question.”
“If you’re referring to my confession,” she snipped, “then no, I have not. I’m going to run DNA tests, remember?”
“It’s called a paternity test and just how exactly do you plan on securing a sample from Luke for this marvelous test of yours?”
Jessica didn’t like the condescension in her sister’s voice. Worse, she didn’t like that she had a point. “I don’t know.” She shrugged. That was a problem she hadn’t figured out yet. It wasn’t like in the movies where you could scrape the goods from the glass of water he was drinking, or snag a piece of his hair. She actually had to get him to swab the inside of his mouth with a special applicator. “I’m working those details out.”
“Do you realize that while you’re ‘working those details out’ you are fast approaching your second trimester?”
“So...”
“So...” Sam angrily mimicked her sister’s response, “you will be too far along for a safe abortion.”
The one she couldn’t go through with?
“And regardless of the outcome, you need to tell Luke the truth.”
“I disagree.”
“He needs to know.”
“It’ll only hurt him.”
“Call him, Jess.”
Staring out the glass slider doors, Jess considered telling Sam that she had decided against the abortion. Thought she decided against the abortion. But every time she thought about a baby growing inside her until her belly reached the size of a basketball, she freaked. How could she do that? How could she walk around campus with a baby inside her and act as if everything was normal?
Everything wasn’t normal. Nothing was normal. She clutched the pillow more tightly to her chest. “No. We’ve discussed the pregnancy and that’s as far as it needs to go at the moment.”
From the corner of her eye, she watched Sam stroll over to the kitchen counter and smack her briefcase down.
“Bad choice. Call him now, Jess.”
Jessica whipped her head around to see the receiver held in the air between them. “You’re not listening! I’ve said we’ve already discussed it!”
“You call him now, or I will.”
“What?” She began to shake. “You can’t do that—this is none of your business!”
“You made it my business. You’re in my house, seeing my doctor, bending my ear. Now call him.”
When Jessica made no move to take the phone, Sam pressed the talk button.
Jessica’s heart leapt into her throat. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I’ve memorized his number. Shall I dial it for you?”
My God—what was she doing?
“Or for myself.”
“God no!” she shrieked and jumped up from the sofa. Making a dash for the kitchen she yanked the receiver out of Sam’s hand. “Give me that.” Her heart pounded. Her hand noticeably trembled but she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t imagine Sam calling and telling Luke about Brad! “I’ll do it, okay?”
“Good choice.”
Shocked by her sister’s stunt, she glared at Sam. “I didn’t have one—remember?”
“Make the call, Jess. It’s for your own good.”
Pulse thumping between her ears, Jessica’s chest became tight. It wasn’t fair. What Sam was forcing her to do wasn’t right. This didn’t impact her, yet she was inserting herself in the middle. She had to get away from her. She had to get some space.
Shooting her the nastiest look she could muster, Jessica hurried to her bedroom and locked herself inside.
Sam stood outside her door and announced her presence. “I’m listening.”
Jessica couldn’t believe it. Staring at the phone in her hand, she couldn’t believe her sister was acting this way. Her first instinct was to lie. To make it sound as though she was calling, but never dial the number. She glanced at the closed door and thought, Sam would probably check up on her. Knowing her, she would probably call Luke her-self just to be sure her weak little sister had actually done it.
Jessica’s gaze drifted back to the phone in hand. She had never felt a bitterness for her sister, not like the one she felt now. It was a mistake to come here. She should have stayed in Tallahassee. She could have handled this alone and then Sam would never have been involved. Why she ever thought her sister would understand was beyond her.
But the problem remained. She ran her fingertips over the keypad. She had to call Luke. One way or another she had to tell him.
Tears filled her eyes. Sweet Luke. He wanted this child and was prepared to marry her. He believed they could make it work.
Until he found about Brad. Her side cramped. Then he would never speak to her again.
Holding her stomach, images of that one night with Brad filled her mind. He didn’t care about her. He just wanted to have sex. She could have been a stranger and it wouldn’t have mattered. He was a con, but she fell for it. Shame poured into her heart. And so easily. She had bared her body to him and why?
Jessic
a dropped her head forward. She thought it wouldn’t mean anything. They were having a good time, flirting… She’d always considered him good-looking. She thought Luke wasn’t the one after all.
Maybe it was true. Maybe she didn’t really love Luke. Maybe she wanted to play the field. Maybe she was just a cheat. How else could she have done something so horrible to him?
She jerked up when she heard Sam test the door knob. Her heart stopped. She wasn’t going to try and come in here, was she?
Waiting for Sam to demand entry, Jessica held her breath. Then, footsteps. Relief flooded out with a huge sigh. But the calm was fleeting. Looking at the phone, she knew she couldn’t avoid it any longer. Her limbs felt weak. But how? How am I going to break it to him?
Especially now that a part of her wanted him, wanted the gallant guy who offered to marry her, the sweet hopeful guy who was still in love with her, the responsible one who would do the right thing.
But was she really in love with him? Or did she just want someone to save her...
Jessica’s breathing grew shallow. She softened her focus on the receiver in hand. She didn’t know what she wanted right now, but one thing was for certain; none of this was fair to Luke.
# # #
Across town, in the shelter of her best friends’ home, Sam mulled over the situation. “I don’t know what she’s going to do Jen.” She studied the stemless glass of Cabernet in her hands, the deep burgundy liquid shimmering in the soft lighting of Jen’s living room. It nearly matched the décor. Walnut floors, cherry furniture and throw pillows the shade of wine mellowed in the lamplight, the amber colored walls quieting to a golden yellow.
Lulled by the Spanish instrumental flowing from the speakers, Sam marveled at how the sound seemed to caress her soul. Music was something she and Jen shared in common and at the moment, she was grateful for its inclusion. Tonight, she needed all the tranquility she could get.
“It’s as though Jess has completely disconnected herself from reality. Almost as if she ignores it, the whole thing will go away.”
“She’ll do the right thing, Sam,” Jen said, sitting beside her on the sofa.
“She hasn’t yet.”
“She will,” Jen encouraged. “She has you for a guide. Just give her time.”
Sam looked up, a renewed sense of urgency gnawing away at her. “She doesn’t have time, that’s the problem.” Jen was a doctor. She knew what was at stake. And that stupid paternity test. As if Luke was the biological father, her troubles would be solved.
Sam’s heart splintered. At least part of them would.
“She’ll come through, Sam. And you’ll be there for her every step of the way.”
Sam sighed. “I’m not sure about that one.” At this rate, they were barely civil.
“Trust me. Jessica loves you, she’ll find her way back to you.” Jennifer paused and extended a comforting smile between the two. “Perhaps this pregnancy was a cry for love and there’s no one better to answer that call than you.”
Sam balked. “I don’t get that connection, but okay.”
“It’s very simple. When a young woman seeks a mélange of partners, it’s usually an attempt to fill herself with love, attention.”
“I beg to differ. I’ve had many lovers and they weren’t for lack of attention. They were for sexual gratification.”
Jen frowned. “Maybe. But for some young women it’s an attempt to replace the one love they never truly felt.”
“Stop,” Sam said, whipping errant curls from her face. “Lovers can be purely for desire and not an attempt to replace anyone.”
“We’re not talking about you.”
Sam lifted away from the sofa back and sat ramrod straight. “I realize that but I’m telling you, sex can be about pure sexual gratification—nothing more and nothing less.” Irritation cracked and popped. “Listen, just because you take on a variety of partners doesn’t mean you’re trying to fill some subconscious need for love.”
Love. Need. Sam gulped back a swallow of wine. Vic had nothing to do with this conversation.
“Sam,” Jen replied in a gentle tone. “You’re a special, unique woman, this is true.” She tendered a smile. “But your father was unavailable for much of your youth, much like he was for Jessica’s.”
Sam planted her glass on the table and replied point-blank, “He worked a lot, sure, but he was there for us when we needed him.” A man of few words, he thought his eldest daughter a bit of a flake. A productive one, but a flake nonetheless. Which didn’t bother her. Not really.
Not anymore, anyway. The man didn’t understand chi. Was it his fault?
Sitting in a chair alongside her spot on the sofa, Jennifer gave a slight tilt of her head in her quiet you’re-not-fooling-me mode.
Sam’s nerves drummed. “Fine, he worked a lot and could be a little distant, but he was still there for us.” Jen knew that better than anyone and she wouldn’t let her turn this around. “It wasn’t like he’d abandoned us on a doorstep.”
“But he wasn’t there emotionally,” Jen said, her mouth drawn in a faint frown. “You and I both know that, too.”
Well-versed in the Rawlings family dynamics, Jen knew the man was hard to please, narrow-minded and cranky, not to mention tired as hell and sharp-tongued. He was tough. Tough on the kids and what he expected of them. But it didn’t mean he didn’t love them.
Flakey. Sam felt the boot hit her backside. He just didn’t understand them.
Met with a sharp look of reproach, Sam grabbed her wineglass and brought it to her lips. Great. So it’s her dad’s fault her sister is pregnant. Perfect. Was it his fault she fell for Vic, too?
Jen reached over and patted her knee. “She’ll be okay, I’m sure of it. Now let’s talk about brighter subjects. Tell me, how are you and Vic doing?”
“Fine.”
With the look she received from Jen, you’d have thought she kicked a puppy. “What? But I thought you two were doing so well?”
“We are.” Sam’s chest tightened. Until he found out Jess was pregnant. That the kid had slept with more than one guy—probably her fault somehow and oh yes—his mother can help.
Where Sam couldn’t.
Jen leaned forward and asked, “What happened?”
“Nothing happened.”
“Sam,” she tempered her tone. “Please.”
Staring down relentless blue eyes, Sam decided she might as well blow the stacks. “He thinks I should counsel Jess to put the baby up for an adoption.”
“What’s wrong with that idea?”
“Are you serious? What about school?”
“What about it? She could have the child, place it with a good home and then move on.”
Sam grunted. “You make it sound so easy. Nine months carrying a child around is not easy.”
“And you would know, how?”
“I don’t have to personally experience every detail in life to know something’s hard.”
“No…” Jennifer’s voice fell away.
“He thinks I’m not giving good advice to Jess.”
“What?”
Sam looked at Jen. “He’s making a judgment call and I don’t like it.”
“This is about his sister,” Jen murmured more to herself than Sam, and protectively secured her wineglass in her lap.
“No, it’s about my sister and my role in her securing a scarlet letter.”
“He actually said that?”
“In so many words.” Not to mention he didn’t ap-prove of her potential support for an abortion. Though truth be known, Sam was glad for the insight. Helped put things in perspective for her, set her emotions back on track.
“I’m sorry.” And the genuine look of sadness filling her eyes deflated Sam’s resentment. “I know how much you care for him.”
Jen didn’t know the half of it! Sam’s pulse skittered. She had yet to divulge the two had exchanged the “L” word or that it was disturbing her thought process, interfering with her ability
to work. Or how she was slipping into a chasm of chaos, struggling against a renegade of emotion.
Jennifer said nothing. She simply allowed the moment to pass.
Sam watched as her friend lifted her glass, sipped a small amount of wine, seemingly content with the music drifting between them, the pause in conversation.
The woman was so predictable. She was digesting the information, running it through that analytical brain of hers, certain to come up with some sage bit of advice, some goal to aim for. Tamping down the race of her heart, Sam savored a private smile. It was one of the things she liked best about her friend. Goal-driven, eager to listen, she could always count on Jen when she needed to talk.
After several more minutes Jen posed her question, “Have you given any thought to what he’s going through?”
“Yes.” No. Sam glowered into her glass. Not really.
“And?” Jennifer cupped her hands around her wine glass.
“And what?”
“He’s hurting, Sam.”
“We’re all hurting.”
“It’s different. It must be hard for him to watch you help your sister work through the trials of life when he cannot do the same.”
She knew that, but it didn’t alleviate the sting from his comments, or ease the havoc running rampant through her body and soul. “So? We’ve all got problems.”
Jennifer stopped short. “What’s going on, Sam?”
“Nothing’s going on,” she shot back. “I just don’t like being told I’m the cause of someone else’s grief.” Which was true, albeit only half the truth. She didn’t like feeling as though she were the cause of someone else’s grief.
“Did he actually say that?”
Sam remained mute.
“That’s what I thought,” Jen said, her disappointment pointed. She shook her head. “You’re putting words into his mouth and you know better.”
“He might as well have said it. Look—I appreciate what he’s been through and continues to go through every day of his life, but I don’t like feeling responsible for something I had nothing to do with in the first place.”
Lust on the Rocks Page 24
