[Legal 01.0] Legal

by Bree Dahlia

  “I know, Jillian,” he repeated, “but sometimes I wish you would.”

  The sound of a phone roused me just enough to think it was part of my dream. All I saw was a haze around me. Slowly things came into focus, and I noticed the clock read 5:57 a.m. I wiped my eyes, remembering something about not being able to discern numbers in dreams. I didn’t know it that was true or not but realized I had to be awake if I was thinking about it.

  In the next breath, it hit me. Chase was not there, and the spot beside me in bed was cold. How long had he been gone? I can’t believe I never even stirred. The last thing I remember was falling asleep in his arms after making love. Making love.

  My heart sank. I didn’t know what felt worse—Chase not being there or allowing myself to get into the position whether I cared if he was there or not. It wasn’t long ago when I would have been pissed off if he’d stayed over. Now the fact that he hadn’t left me… empty. And that sucked. It sucked so bad that I wanted to erase all traces of the night.

  Even though it had been phenomenal.

  Dammit, Jillian, what is your problem? Chase had stuck to the two-hour time window, or close to it, and that’s what should’ve mattered. I curled into a ball and tried to go back to sleep. I had a client meeting later in the day, but otherwise, it wasn’t crucial for me to get out of bed early. I’d been working enough lately; I could afford to be lazy.

  I lay there for a while, lids shut tightly and annoyed that I was so awake, when I remembered the tone that had stirred me earlier. I’d forgotten to check if it was real or not. I reached over and grabbed the cell, scrolling through the missed calls.

  Chase. I held the screen to my chest for a moment, not sure how to proceed. He hadn’t left a message, and I didn’t know how I felt. Well, I knew how I felt, but I didn’t want to feel that way. I smoothed my hand over the rumpled sheets. I loved this bed. It was the very first thing I bought after the divorce. I needed a fresh start, something that was all my own since I’d decided to keep the house. When all this with Chase was said and done, would I have to go out and buy another one again?

  I was being silly and melodramatic. A seven-week fling could hardly be compared to a seventeen-year marriage. It wasn’t the amazing sex that counted; it was the intensity of the feelings when you weren’t having sex.

  Fuck, I was in trouble.

  As I was debating what to do, he texted me: Good morning. Well, that simplified things. Texting back was easier than calling. I was such a baby.

  Good morning. I didn’t hear you leave.

  God, why would I even mention that?

  You were out cold. I hope you slept well.

  I touched between my legs. He’d come inside me last night and every part of me still felt him. Dammit, I missed him.

  I did, I replied.

  How late are you working tonight? Can I see you?

  I felt a rush at doing this all over again. I was safe for another week, but just because I couldn’t get pregnant, did that really mean I was safe? I could have made a stupid, stupid mistake. I’d allowed him into my body in such a personal way, and it was obviously screwing with my sanity. We should have just stuck to hard fucking. Next time, it’ll be doggie-style. No kissing, no eye contact, minimal touching.

  I should be done by 6. What about you?

  Staying home all day working on the fall itinerary, he texted.

  Maybe I should stop over and help you with that, so you don’t get anything wrong.

  Shit. Was that too flirty-ish? But I was interested in the schedule he was planning for the upcoming school year. Would we still be sleeping together then, a whole month away?

  You should. These are impressionable young minds and I don’t want to mess something up. I need your help.

  I smiled. Okay, time to get back on track.

  My place 8-10?

  How about 6-8? It’s sooner.

  My heart skipped, but I wrestled it back. That sounds good. There’s no chance of falling asleep and extending the time, I told him.

  Right.

  “To recap, Mr. Reed—”

  “Please, call me Kurt.”

  I nodded. “Kurt.” I spread the papers out in front of him. “Your AUM is ten million. You are bringing over your book of five hundred twenty thousand. You will have a three-month initial period in which you will take home a base salary of seventy-five thousand per year plus commission plus bonuses. You will have an additional twenty-four-month production period in which you’ll receive your salary. However, once that period is over, your salary terminates, but by that time, you should be receiving a very decent residual income from your book revenue.”

  I took a deep breath. “Sound good so far, Kurt?” He nodded, and I continued. “Your first quarter goal is ten thousand. You will receive a quarterly cash bonus based on assets, a yearly stock bonus, and an incentive bonus based on anything brought in over and above your goal. Oh, and you’ll receive full benefits starting from day one.”

  Kurt picked up the pen. “Perfect, Jillian.” I pointed out all the places for him to sign and glanced around his tiny apartment kitchen. Based on his performance so far, he’d be moving out in no time if that’s what he chose. He was a new and upcoming broker, and he was killing it.

  He handed me the signed papers, and I stacked them up. The deal was done, and so was my work there. I held out my hand. “Congratulations. Keep pulling in those kinds of numbers and you’ll be wildly successful.”

  Kurt shook my hand, holding it a bit longer than I felt comfortable. “So, we are officially finished?” he asked.

  “Yes.” The negotiations had come to a close, along with any future dealings on my part with Kurt Reed. He was now in the fine hands of Barclay Schmit Investment Firm. “Mr. Morgan will be expecting you on Monday. Congratulations, again.” I collected my things to leave, gathering all my copies and sliding them into my bag. I’d organize them later at home.

  “Would you like to grab a drink or coffee sometime?”

  I picked up my head. Seriously? He was very attractive; I couldn’t deny that. He’d also be rolling in money soon, if that type of thing mattered to me. Which it didn’t. I could make my own. He was in his late twenties, which automatically ruled him out, but it wouldn’t have changed anything if he were late thirties. It was flattering, but no.

  “No, thank you,” I said. “I’m seeing someone.” Even though Kurt and I were no longer working together, I still had to keep it professional. ‘Seeing someone’ sounded like the most reasonable reason for a date rejection.

  “Goes to show that I can’t win at everything.”

  “Yes, well, have a nice evening, Mr. Reed.”

  He smiled. “Likewise, Ms. Hudson. You know where to find me should you change your mind.”

  No chance in hell, Kurt.

  I went back to my car, relieved to be done for the day. It was almost five, and before I knew it, Chase would be over. I sat in the seat, thrumming my fingers on the wheel. I was contemplating the best route to drive home, considering rush hour on a Friday night.

  I dug around in my purse for some lip balm and pulled out the pink key chain. I’d forgotten to show it to Chase. I saw it at one of the mall kiosks yesterday and bought it without a second thought. It was perfect, a pink guitar that played “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.” Very unusual and very cool. Of course, Hazel had instantly come to mind, not that she’d have any use for a keychain at her age. Perry had raised her eyebrows at that one—me buying something for one of Chase’s kids—but she was too busy telling me I’d freaking lost it because of the clothes to say much about it.

  As I pondered between the freeway and side streets, I became very aware how close I was to Chase’s place. I twirled the key chain between my fingers. He was right on my way home if I took that direction. Which I probably should, since it’d be the least congested.

  It couldn’t hurt just to pass by and check if his car was out front. I really wouldn’t mind taking a peek at that itinerary; plus,
we were scheduled to meet soon enough anyway. I sent him a quick text to warn him. I wasn’t a fan of the pop-ins.

  I was driving down Oakland ten minutes later, spotting the Ford in the driveway. I pulled over to the curb and parked, checking my phone. No response yet.

  I walked up to the door and rang the doorbell, my butterflies having a field day. This was so unlike me, coming over when I knew there could be others around. No big deal, though. We’re just a couple of friends. Until six o’clock. Then we were fuck buddies.

  “Whatever you’re selling, I’m buying.”

  A guy stood in the doorway, hair dripping into his bloodshot eyes. I didn’t recognize him; it wasn’t one of his roommates. I guess I did look a little salesy in my suit and heels.

  “Is Chase here?”

  He held the door open, and I stepped inside. The air was thick with smoke, the acrid stench sticking all over me. Great. I glanced around and saw two guys and a girl passed out on the grimy-looking couch; her shirt pulled halfway off. A bottle of Jack was wedged into the arm and leaking onto the carpet. Really? The weekend had barely started.

  He lit up a joint and handed it to me. I started to regret coming there. I didn’t have time for this shit. I shook my head, ready to leave when Trevor sauntered into the room, zeroing in on me. He looked even worse, an over-baked weed brownie. His smell filled my nose in a room that was already oversaturated.

  “Hey, I know you. You’re the chick from the park.”

  “Yes, hi. Can you get Chase, please?”

  I’d been in that house before for a quickie session, but it was dark, and Chase’s hard cock was a major distracter. I hadn’t paid much attention to the surroundings. But being there now was a bucket of ice water in the face, followed by a jagged brick. It threw a huge amplifier over our differences. This was how many young twenty-somethings acted until they got their shit together, and I was not in that place anymore.

  “He’s not here.”

  “What? Yes, he is. His car’s out front.” Do not piss me off, Trevor.

  “Nope. Grabbed his guitar and took off in Ric’s. In a hurry to see someone and couldn’t take the time to fill up his car. With gas.”

  Guitar? His speech was slow, and it annoyed the hell out of me. I gritted my teeth. “No, that can’t be right. He’s meeting me soon.”

  Another kid walked in, hands in his front pockets. “Hey, Ric. Where’d Chase go? She don’t believe me.”

  Ric shrugged. “Ran off to meet some young chick or something.”

  Trevor turned to me and waved his hand. “There ya go.” I frowned. No, that didn’t even make a bit of sense. “If you ask me, he made a mistake.” His breath was stinking up my personal space. I swiveled toward the door, but he caught my wrist. “You don’t have to leave. Join the party.” He locked both his arms on either side of my head, boxing me against the wall. “We can play naughty babysitter.”

  I pushed aside my frantic heartbeat and looked him in the eye. “Put your fucking arms down. Now.”

  A slow smile spread across his face, and he lowered them. “A firecracker.”

  I hightailed it out of there, and when I made it back to my car, I let out an enormous breath. I really should consider taking some self-defense classes. That could have turned out much differently.

  I barely remembered driving home; my mind was a tangled mess, and coming into my driveway was the rotten cherry on top of the melted sundae. I wanted to scream. I pulled into the garage, stepped out of the car, and slammed the door behind me.

  “What are you doing here?”

  My ex held up a key. “Returning this as promised. I forgot to leave it the other night.”

  I snagged it and put it into my purse. “Thank you, but you do still have one of the garage door openers.”

  “Oh, right. I’ll get that back another time.” He leaned in and sniffed me. “When did you start smoking again?”

  “God, Mike. Do I look like I’m high to you?” I shook my head. “Is that all you wanted?”

  He didn’t say anything for a time, and I got the sinking suspicion he was trying to make something up. I felt my frustration level rise. “Hey,” he said, pulling out his cell. “Did you see Daniel’s new pictures?”

  “Yes, Mike. You know that he sent them to me too.”

  He started scrolling through them, laughing. “What did you think about the one of him at Rossi’s? Pretty funny, huh?”

  “It was Luini’s.”

  “No, I don’t think so. Look.”

  I turned out to be right, but the damage was done. He’d already sucked me in. We stood there pouring through all the photos, and I couldn’t stop until the last one. Man, I missed that boy.

  I checked the time: 6:17. Chase was never late. Never. Something was up. “I really have to go and change out of these clothes now. Thanks again for dropping off the key.”

  I was halfway up the front walk before I noticed he was following me like a puppy. “Hey, you need any help decluttering or something?” he asked.

  Are you fucking shitting me? What was up with the men today—was I giving off an ‘I have meaningless sex’ vibe?

  I turned to face him. “What’s going on, Mike? Is this about Candace again?”

  “Well, now that you asked….”

  I righted forward and went into the house. We’d barely spoken since before the divorce, and now he was my bud? I kicked off my heels, then made a beeline directly to the bedroom to peel off my suit. To no surprise, Mike was waiting for me in the living room when I came out.

  I sat there physically listening to him ramble on about his commitment angst, but the rest of me was somewhere else. Close to seven, I got a text.

  I’m so sorry I missed you, Jillian. I’ll be there later to explain everything.

  I stared down at the screen. I don’t think so. Sure, we were casual, but that didn’t mean he could blow me off for someone else and expect me to wait patiently while he did it. I’d be a slut long before I’d be some guy’s doormat.

  “Something wrong?” Mike asked.

  “No, it’s fine.” I set the phone down and rested my head back. I hated that this affected me, but what did I expect? “And I still don’t understand why you’re telling me this stuff and not the person you should be.”

  “You’re easier to talk to.”

  Like that made a lick of sense. I rubbed my eyes. Between last night and today, I was drained. It wasn’t much later before I received an incoming call, which I declined, and then another text.

  Jillian?

  Mike gave me a look. “There is something wrong. Does this have to do with your, uh, friend?” I didn’t respond; he was the last person I’d talk to about Chase. “Did I mention that I saw him today at St. Mary’s?”

  My head snapped sideways. “What? No. When?”

  “At least I think it was him. He was running in as I was leaving.”

  “Fuck, Mike. When?” Those frustration levels were nearing their peak. He’d waited until now to say something?

  “Settle down. I don’t know. Before I came over. Around five maybe?”

  I jumped up and stuffed my phone into my purse, pulling out my car keys. “Up, Mike. Now. I have to leave.”

  St. Mary’s was approximately fifteen minutes away. I dialed Chase on the way. My heart was battering in my chest as I waited for him to answer.

  “Jillian.” His tone was one of relief, and I felt like the biggest bitch who’d ever lived.

  “Chase, are you at the hospital?” I blurted out quickly.

  “Yes, how—”

  “Why? What’s happening?”

  “I’m here with Hazel—”

  “Oh, my God.”

  “Jillian, it’s fine. She’s fine. Her grandmother will be here soon, and then I’m leaving to come over. I’ll explain it all then, but I have to get going now.”

  “Chase, I’m already on my way there.”

  I managed to get the room number even after he told me it wasn’t necessa
ry to make the trip. I was almost there anyway. He told me she was fine, but I still had that pit in my stomach. She was such a sweet little girl, and I hated the thought of her lying on a hospital bed.

  I rushed to the children’s wing and searched for room 205. Was it even visiting hours? I didn’t care, and no one was stopping me. I heard the strumming first before I found it. The door was ajar, and I peeked inside. Chase was in a chair pushed beside the bed, guitar in his lap, playing a Guns N’ Roses song.

  “Is that appropriate?” I asked, stepping inside.

  His smile took up his entire face. “She requested it.”

  “Jillian!”

  I went to Hazel’s side and gave her a once-over. She appeared okay. “Hi, sweetie.” I pushed her bangs off her forehead. “How are you feeling?” I had so many questions.

  “Good.”

  I suddenly remembered the key chain lounging around in my bag. Perfect. I reached in for the pink guitar and pushed the button, activating the music. Her face lit up as I handed it to her. “This is for you, Hazel.”

  “Oh, thank you. I love it!”

  Such a simple thing, but it seemed to make her happy, and that made my heart swell. Her grandmother, Linda, came in then, all flustered and harried. I didn’t hear what Chase said to her, but after a hello and a dozen thank yous, we left the room with Chase waving.

  “Bye, Hazelnut,” Chase said, and she waved to both of us. As soon as we were in the hall, he set down his guitar case and pulled me close. “That was awesome of you, Jillian.”

  “What, the little key chain? It was just—” He kissed me then, and I let all the weight dissolve. Everything that had piled on me from the day. What was left was pure guilt, and I pulled back. “Chase, I’m so sorry for not responding before, I—”

  He placed his finger over my lips, silencing me again. “It’s okay. I love that you’re here now.”

  “What’s wrong with Hazel?”

  “Come, let’s walk.” He picked up his case and took my hand. “It’s nothing that isn’t expected from time to time. She has a kidney condition and suffers relapses. Linda’s husband died a couple years back, so she’s Hazel’s sole supporter. She can’t afford to leave her job all the time or she’ll lose it. That’s when I step in. I stay with Hazel until Linda can get there. I will never let her be in this place alone if I can help it.”