Love Proof (Laws of Attraction) (10 page)

“I don’t know,” she heard him say to whomever he was talking to.  “At
least another day, maybe two.”

He listened, then said, “I can’t talk about that right now.  I’ll send
you an e-mail.”

“What did you tell people?” Sarah asked when he hung up.  “About why
you’re still here?”

“I said I wanted to get in some skiing.”

“You don’t ski, do you?”

“No.”  Joe dialed his phone and asked for a lawyer whose name Sarah
recognized.  She took another sip of tea, then leaned back against her pillow
and closed her eyes.

“You’re going to have to talk to Luke about that,” Joe said to the
person on the phone.  “He’s taken over all my cases for a while.  I’m on the
road now.”

Sarah opened her increasingly-heavy eyes and peeked over at Burke.  He
was hunched over the desk now, elbow resting on the surface, his forehead leaning
against his hand.  “Yeah, well, there’s a lot going on,” he told the person.  “I
can’t talk about it right now.  Call Luke.  He’ll get you what you need.”

He set his phone down and stared glumly at it.  When he looked over at
Sarah again, she gave him a small smile.

“Purgatory?” she asked.

Joe nodded.

“Feel like sharing?”

“Not really.  How was breakfast?”

Sarah laid her hand on her stomach.  “It’s staying down, so that’s
good.  But I think I need another nap.”

“Do you mind if I work in here?”

“No.”  In fact, Sarah was surprised by how much she wanted that.  She
liked hearing his voice in the background.  She liked feeling him close by.

Which should have been reason enough to tell him to leave.  But she
wasn’t feeling up to that.

Sarah slid back down to horizontal and closed her eyes.  But then she
turned to her side again and looked over at Joe.

“Are they trying to push you out?” she asked.  “At your firm?”

“Yes.”

“So why don’t you quit?  I’m sure someone like you could find a job
right away.”

As opposed to someone like me,
Sarah thought, with the stain of the FBI raid and all
the partner indictments following her everywhere on her résumé.

“I will,” he said, “eventually.”

“But why would you keep doing this?” Sarah asked him.  “I can
understand me, but not you—”

Joe’s phone rang.  He looked at the screen and answered the call.  “Joe
Burke.  Yeah, thanks for getting back to me, Todd.  I heard Judge Lewis issued
an order, and I wanted to let you know that Luke Tanner is handling that for me
now . . . ”

Sarah’s eyes drifted closed again while Joe’s familiar voice carried on
in the background.  One of the last things she thought before giving in to the
tired was that she missed this—missed him, missed having him around.

It wasn’t your choice
, she reminded herself. 
You could have gone on
like that forever.

He’s the one who broke your heart.

But it was getting harder and harder for her to stay angry about it.

Now all she felt was the loss.

***

When she woke again, Joe was gone.  He left the drapes closed and all
the lights off, so once again she wasn’t sure of the time.  The clock said
12:42, and she guessed it must be afternoon, since she couldn’t imagine
sleeping sixteen hours straight.  Still, it was worth checking.

Sarah climbed out of bed, testing her legs.  They felt better, less
shaky.  Her stomach felt better, too, and in fact growled a little with
hunger.  Sarah pulled back the heavy drapes and let the light shine in.  The
sky was a brilliant blue, and looked particularly beautiful against the snowy
white peaks of the mountains.

This place really was stunning, Sarah thought.  She would have loved to
stand outside and breathe in some of the fresh air.  But the only clothes she
had were her suit, which may or may not have survived the vomit, and the
workout capris and T-shirt she brought along.  She had packed pajamas, too, one
of her nice satin sets she bought during the period of
Flourish
, but
none of those clothes in combination gave her an outfit she could wear
outside.  Maybe she could use the hotel robe as a coat.

But Joe had already thought of that.

Resting on the low table in front of the couch was a bag.  And inside
were a sweatshirt and matching sweatpants, both with “Utah” written across
them.  He also bought her a pair of fuzzy socks, the kind with little plastic
circles dotting the bottom to keep the socks from slipping on the floor.

Sarah sank onto the couch and examined the loot.  Why was he being so
nice to her?

She had the chance to ask him when he returned within the hour carrying
two sacks of food:  a burger and fries for him, hot oatmeal and a banana for
her.  He also handed her a cup of tea.

“Burke, what is this?” she said.  “The clothes, the food, the knight in
shining armor . . . ”

“Just doing my duty,” he said.

“What duty?” she asked, almost afraid of his answer.

“Taking care of opposing counsel.  I think it’s somewhere in the
rules.”

“Right,” Sarah said, but she didn’t press him any further.

She opened the lid on the Starbucks oatmeal and shook out the brown
sugar packet on top.  She left the nuts and dried fruit alone—she thought they
might be too rough on her recovering stomach.

Joe sat on the couch and laid his own feast out on the table.  Then he
started scrolling through his phone.

“Thanks for the clothes,” Sarah said.  She had noticed Joe’s the minute
he walked in.  He wore jeans—button-down Levi’s—which was unfortunate.  Because
she always thought he looked particularly great in jeans—the way they hugged
his backside just perfectly.  For some reason they always made him look
especially masculine.  Or maybe it was just because he’d been wearing them the
night she always thought of as the beginning of everything between them.

Along with his jeans this time he wore a fleece pullover on top,
charcoal gray over a white T-shirt.  And sturdy sneakers that might have
qualified as hiking boots.  It was a good look, overall, Sarah thought.  It
made him look strong and tall and outdoorsy.  Like a man who had just come in
from chopping wood.

“You really need to start packing for the weather,” Joe told her. 
“It’s going to get colder the next few months where we’re going, not warmer. 
You should always have something as backup.”

“Thanks for the advice,” she answered dryly.  But she bit back anything
more in favor of eating the soothing food he’d brought her.

“Something else,” Joe said, getting up.  He went to Sarah’s bag resting
on the luggage cart.  She realized he must have gone through there to know she
hadn’t packed anything warm.  But before she could complain about that, Joe
reached into her bag and pulled something out.

“What are you doing with this?”

Sarah’s face heated up.  And not with fever this time.

“It’s none of your business.”

“Sarah, are you crazy?”

She stared at the hair iron in Joe’s hand.  Not only was it an Atheena,
it was the exact make and model that had lit all those women’s hair on fire.

“I know you’re not stupid,” Joe said, “so why are you being so stupid?”

“I believe in the product.”

“Cut the crap,” Joe said.  “Have you not been listening to every one of
my clients?  This thing is dangerous, Sarah.  I should have thrown it out when
I found it.”

“Don’t you dare,” Sarah said, getting out of bed and grabbing it away
from him.  “I know what you think, but this is the best product I’ve ever had. 
You wouldn’t understand—you’ve never had to deal with hair like mine.”

He looked at her frizzy mop.  “I like it the way it is—right now.  Why
do you have to do anything to it?”

“Right,” Sarah said, shoving the hair iron back into her bag.  “What do
you have to do to your hair, Joe?  Run a bar of soap over it and you’re done? 
You wouldn’t understand.”

“You called me Joe.”

“It was an accident.”

“Sarah, please don’t use that thing anymore.  You may hate your hair
the way it is right now, but it’s a hell of a lot better than burning it all
off.”

“That’s not going to happen to me.”

“How do you know?” he asked.

“Because I have a theory.  And it’s none of your business. 
Counsel.
”

It was true, she did have a theory, and it wasn’t one she was ready to
share with him or even her new boss yet.  She knew she might be grasping for an
answer, simply because she couldn’t bear giving up something that really had proven
to be a miracle for her hair.  But if she was right, it could mean a dramatic
shift in the case.

Sarah scooped up the plastic bag that held the sweatshirt and
sweatpants.  “But thank you,” she said.  “For these.  I can finally get out of
my robe.”

“What do you wear to bed?” Joe asked.

“Excuse me?”

“I was looking for some warm flannel pajamas or something.  You looked
like you were freezing last night.”

Sarah paused on her way to the bathroom and pulled out the satin pants
and camisole she would have worn to bed if she’d been lucid the night before.

“Oh, I thought those were . . . never mind,” Joe said, shoveling in a
few more fries.  He waved for Sarah to continue on to the bathroom.

“Thought they were what?” she asked.

“You never used to sleep in anything like that.”

“I couldn’t afford it,” she said.

“You didn’t sleep in much at all,” he said, making sure to look her in
the eye.

“Ancient history, Burke.”  She stepped into the bathroom and shut the
door behind her.  Then stayed where she was for a moment, leaning against the
wood, eyes closed as she tried to block out the image Joe had just planted in
her mind.

He didn’t sleep in anything, either.  And it had been cold then, too.

But neither of them had seemed to mind.

Twelve

It took two flights to get them to Carbondale, Illinois, to the law
school where the competition was held.  It was the first week in November, and
already temperatures were below freezing at night.  Sarah had underestimated
the weather and brought only a light jacket in addition to the suit she would wear
for the actual oral argument. 

It was the same suit she’d saved up to buy for the competition the
previous year.  Even though that particular day had ended so badly with her
partner practically having to be carried from the room, Sarah still had faith
in the outfit to help her win this time.  Besides, she hadn’t gotten her wear
out of it yet, and for what she spent, she’d better.

She wore jeans, a cotton sweater, and her jacket on the plane, but as
soon as she stepped into the Carbondale airport she knew they wouldn’t be
enough.  Even in that closed environment, she was already freezing.  She
couldn’t imagine what it would be like once they were outside.

“Let’s get the car,” Ellen told them, and marched off toward the rental
counter.  She had taken it upon herself to make all the travel arrangements for
the group, and as treasurer for Moot Court, she was very budget-conscious.  She
announced that morning when they met at the L.A. airport that the men would be
sharing one hotel room, the women another.  Sarah had been very sorry to hear
it.

As an only child, she wasn’t used to having to sleep in a room with
anyone else.  Even when she went to college, the Cal State San Bernardino campus
was close enough that she could still live at home rather than in a dorm.  And
the place she rented while she was in law school was a tiny guest house in
Westwood, too nice for what the owner charged her, but the woman took pity on Sarah
the first time they met.  Sarah knew some of her classmates had
roommates—sometimes multiples—and she couldn’t imagine having to deal with all
that distraction.

So she wasn’t looking forward to having a roommate even for the three
nights they would be there.  Especially not that night, when she wanted to make
sure she was fresh and well-rested for the oral argument the next day.

“Yes, Ellen Kiptar,” Ellen told the person behind the counter.  “I’ve
reserved a compact.”

“A compact?” Mickey said.  “Joe and I are both over six foot.”

“It’s cheaper,” Ellen said, waving him away.  “And it’s just a short
drive.”

Sarah stood off to the side, trying to warm herself.  Her jacket had
pockets, but she wished she brought a hat and gloves.  None of the others seemed
to be as cold as she was.  Joe Burke wore just jeans and his UCLA hoodie, and
he looked perfectly comfortable with his hands buried deep in the single
pocket.

He must have noticed her look of longing, because the next thing she
knew, he was standing in front of her, reaching for her hands.  Without a word,
he covered them in his own warm ones and brought them back with him into the
cocoon of his hoodie pocket.