Authors: C A Vincent
Then, of course, there was the very long talk he had with Liz. After an initial awkward bunch of minutes, when he was first back in his seat, struggling to eat cold toast, he and Liz worked through absolutely everything, including the division of the things they’d accumulated as a couple. He was more than happy to give the apartment and its contents to her, but she didn’t want it. With wry amusement, she admitted the only thing on her list of any importance was the crystal, or what was left of it. They both had a good chuckle over that.
As a peace offering of sorts, he also tried to give her the balance in their joint account. After choking on her water, she gave him hell and insisted she could take care of herself, “thank you very much!” They argued and in the end she relented and took half. It wasn’t much, but at least he knew she had a nest-egg to fall back on if she needed it.
Every now and again he started to feel guilty for leaving Alicia in the lurch. Whenever he did, Liz excused herself to use the restroom so he could call her. It was only the fact Alicia didn’t answer at all that kept him at the restaurant. He figured she was either sleeping or gone for a walk and would get in touch with him when she saw his number on her call display.
“Buy her some flowers,” Liz told him when they finally got up to head their separate ways. “Just don’t go with roses. I don’t think she’s a roses kind of person.” Even though it should feel awkward to have one’s ex suggest flowers for his new love interest, Nate didn’t feel uncomfortable at all. He couldn’t help grinning as he explained Alicia had already told him she preferred wild flowers picked by the side of the road. Since he’d already been gone for so long and going for a drive wasn’t an option, he settled for a mixed bouquet from a vendor.
Maybe I should buy out his entire stock,
he thought as he headed for Alicia’s room. Nate imagined the space filled with bright colors and glowing white candles of various sizes and very nearly turned back toward the elevators to do just that.
The sight of a maid’s cart across from her open door kept him going forward though, his good mood dying by quick degrees. There was only one reason for a maid to be working this late in the day and it was a reason he hoped wasn’t true.
The maid, a single ear piece blaring some form of heavy instrumental music, backed out of the room. She started when she saw him, her expression surprised. Then she saw the flowers and her eyes filled with sadness.
“Oh sir,” she said quietly, her accent strong. “She has checked out.”
Nate felt like he’d been sucker-punched. He almost staggered back a step as the maid went on to explain a friend of Alicia’s had died and she was responsible for getting his remains home. He heard what the woman was saying, but it wasn’t registering. Not fully. It didn’t make sense. If she could lean on him yesterday, then why not today? Especially after last night.
Oh God!
He swallowed a groan. Had he read too much into things? Had he imagined the connection between them? Nothing about her responses during or after indicated she was unhappy. He even replayed his departure from the room in his mind, concentrating on her face and features. There was no sign she was upset. None whatsoever. What the hell happened?
The question burned through his mind. Hell, it burned through his soul as he tried to figure out why she would leave without calling. She’d teased him and smiled and kissed him back with as much, if not more, passion than he’d let loose. He could have sworn she was happy.
Then why?
Reeling, he stood there like an idiot and wracked his brains for some kind of clue.
“Hey Nate. You forgot your – ” he heard Liz call out from behind him. She stopped short, realizing something wasn’t right, then rushed toward him. Seeing her concern almost snapped the thin thread of control he had on his emotions.
Holy hell!
he thought as the emotional extremes of the day coursed through him, one right after the other. The high of waking up with Alicia. The low of learning what Jared did to Liz. The relief and peace of getting his and Liz’ past straightened out so he could have a future unencumbered by emotional baggage, one he’d hoped would include Alicia. Learning Alicia up and left without contacting him at all, not even to tell him things wouldn’t work between them after all. It was all too much. Suddenly, Nate found himself wanting to hurl the flowers onto the floor and stomp on them while raging at the world.
“Nate?” Liz asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She had something in her hand. He was surprised he’d even noticed, or that he recognized the something as his credit card. He shook his head at her. It was the equivalent of telling her not to ask questions. Then he reached out for the credit card with the hand that held the bouquet of flowers.
His reaction was purely involuntary. As if they’d scalded him, Nate jerked his hand back, releasing the stems and blossoms. Liz let out a surprised squeak and tried to catch some of them before they hit the floor. Unable to look at them anymore, he stepped over the flowers and stormed toward his room. He remembered his credit card just as he reached his door and spun to go retrieve it. Liz squealed when he almost sent her sprawling onto her backside.
All of a sudden, images of the first time he met Alicia were playing through his mind. His body even reacted to the memory of the feel of her on top of him. Liz noticed the reaction and stepped back. To ease her mind and avoid her getting the wrong idea, he told her about the meeting.
“She came around the corner like the demons of hell were chasing her. This,” he said, gesturing between the two of them and signalling their near collision, “reminded me of that. She landed on top of me,” he finished hoarsely, his face flooding with color.
“Nate, don’t. You deserve better, okay. She – ”
“Don’t. Please. I – ah – We have a lot to deal with when we get stateside. I am going to pack. Call me if you need anything, okay?” Nate ground his teeth together, praying Liz wouldn’t demand he examine his feelings. If she tried to make him talk, one of two things would happen. Either he would break down and embarrass himself or he would lose it and start yelling at her to leave him the hell alone. If he went off, there was no telling what he’d bring up.
Thankfully, Liz did know him well enough to realize she shouldn’t push. With an understanding yet sad nod, she gave him his credit card and left.
Three months later…
“Come in, Miss Danvers. Sit, please,” Judge Michaels ordered. He might have used the word “please”, but his tone said “Do it now, or else”. Alicia swallowed a groan, as well as a not unsubstantial amount of bile and seated herself beside Joey Ostlund and his attorney. Her own attorney, Justin Mager, was already present and accounted for, as would she have been had she not been in the ladies’ room, heaving and convulsing over the toilet. She felt, and probably looked, like death warmed over.
Before she sat down, she removed her blazer, not giving a good God damn if she looked indecent in her spaghetti-strap tank top and skirt. She’d barely walked into the small, cramped office and she was already over-heating. The judge, nonplussed, looked like he was about to tell her to “show some decorum”. It was one of his favorite phrases. Then, for some reason, he grunted and sat back in his chair.
Everyone watched as he stood, made his way through the maze of journals, magazines and books piled in precarious stacks throughout the back portion of his office. By the time he reached the window and cracked it open, everyone was holding their breath. An audible sigh went up at the same time the window sash did, only to be sucked back in as he made his way back to his desk. The relieved exhale released upon his return to his seat was much quieter.
“Let us begin,” Judge Michaels stated, once again all business. Alicia could swear she saw a glint of humor in his eyes as he began to read the document on his desk. For whatever reason, it, along with the frigid air coming in through the open window, helped her to relax and concentrate on the contents of Phillip’s will, rather than her rolling insides and flu-laden misery.
* *
“Did you know?” she asked Mager, completely beside herself with shock. Justin shook his head “no”. It seemed he was just as upset as she was. “How could Phillip possibly have amassed so much money? Don’t get me wrong. I know he had a knack for investments, but the numbers Judge Michaels was reading were staggering. I mean, I’ve seen his place. State-of-the-art, top-of-the-line – everything. No expense spared.” She started to shake her head in disbelief then thought better of it. The last noggin bob sent her to her knees over the trash can beside the judge’s clerk’s desk.
“Joey will contest,” was all Justin said as he held the door open for her. Alicia, about to answer with a very caustic, “Duh, ya think?” stopped short as her friend-cum-lawyer’s jaw went slack. He was looking at the front of her top. More specifically, he was looking at her breasts. With his total, almost stalker-scary devotion to his wife, this sudden aberration from his normal practice of looking all women in the eyes made her incredibly self-conscious. Just as she started to look down at herself, he hissed at her. “Jesus Christ, Alicia! Put your jacket back on!”
Her brain nearly stopped functioning entirely when she heard Justin say the words “Jesus Christ” with so much force and anger behind them. His wife, since her bout with cancer, was very religious and, by extension, so was he. It was unheard of to hear him using the Lord’s name in vain, or his son’s for that matter.
All Alicia could do was stand there, open-mouthed and staring as he glared at her. Of course, when she didn’t move fast enough for his liking, he took her blazer from her and worked her into it with enough brute force to make her snarl.
“What the hell, Justin,” she snapped. He didn’t answer. Instead he dragged her out to the ancient elevator and stabbed the “down” button. His face was puce. “Red” didn’t do it justice.
She watched as he started to pace, a common sign of agitation to be sure, but with Justin, it was different. When he paced, his whole upper body bent forward so he looked like someone had stuffed an over-long pole up his backside. He acted like it too, if anyone dared to break his concentration. Aggravated, she crossed her arms over her chest, scowling at the discomfort she felt there, and waited for him to speak his mind. It didn’t cross hers to look down at her shirt to see what the big problem was.
Justin barely took half a dozen steps before he rounded on her and got into her personal space. Alicia squealed and backstepped and he followed, his face hovering mere inches over hers. All of a sudden, her five feet five inches – two of them provided by the heels she wore – seemed extremely insubstantial, compared to his six feet, six inches. Only when she came up against the wall did he stop.
“I know Eileen and I have asked you this before,” he whispered harshly, his face a mere inch from hers, “but are you absolutely sure this three-month flu you’ve been fighting isn’t something much bigger? Like pregnancy?”
“What? No!” Alicia squeaked. She shook her head to emphasize her answer and groaned as a wave of nausea washed over her. Fearing the possibility of losing the few sips of water she’d managed since her last bout of heaving, she let her knees go weak and slid down the wall. Given how furious he was, throwing up on Justin didn’t seem like a good idea at the moment.
“Does brow-beating a pregnant woman make you feel important, Mager?” Judge Michaels asked as he stepped from his offices. Alicia shook her head “no” again, wondering why, all of a sudden, everyone was saying she was pregnant. Sure she and Nate had unprotected sex, but she was on the pill. She’d been on it since she was sixteen. Her doctor suggested she stay on it, even when she wasn’t sexually active in order to regulate her cycle. She tried to tell the men that but a wave of nausea hit, just as she was about to speak. It was all she could do to keep from gagging, let alone talk.
Judge Michaels helped her to her feet just as the elevator reached their floor. As the doors opened before her, terror shot through her hot and intense. The thought of stepping into the small cramped box with two other people damn near made her wet herself. With a shriek, she tore out of Judge Michael’s firm yet gentle grasp and bolted for the stairs.
“After her,” the judge yelled. “Make sure she doesn’t fall.”
Alicia blew out the side door of the old courthouse building like steam from a geyser, almost taking out a hapless pedestrian as she went. If Justin hadn’t been hot on her heels – a bad choice of footwear in the middle of winter – she would have slipped and skidded into the alleyway and into the path of an oncoming delivery truck.
“What the hell, Alicia?” he snapped, yanking her backward. He pinned her roughly against him and held her there as the driver of the truck reacted badly to her sudden appearance. His vehicle fishtailed the rest of the short distance to the main artery and barely managed to stop before colliding with a city bus. The near miss wasn’t what had her attention, however.
No, instead her mind was riveted on the fact the front of her body, beneath her jacket, felt wet and cold. Her blood turned to ice in her veins as terror unlike anything she’d felt in her life swept through her. It made her heart pound painfully in her chest and her brain short-circuit. With a groan, she fainted dead away.