Authors: Dianne Venetta
“When are you going to do it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You can’t wait.”
If I hear someone tell me I can’t wait one more time, I’m going to scream, Jessica thought. But she didn’t. She didn’t do anything. She didn’t have the energy.
“You don’t have to do this, babe.”
That’s what she wanted to talk about. Not Brad, not her infidelity, but that—her options. Though she wasn’t ready to reveal as much to Luke, she was afraid she couldn’t go through with an abortion. She hung her gaze onto his. “Don’t I? What choice do I have?”
“You can have the baby.”
“And do what with it?” This was the clincher, the deal closer. If she had it, what would she do with it?
“If you don’t want to be with me, if you don’t want to take care of it yourself, then give it up for adoption.”
“Adoption?”
“Yes. Let someone else take care of our child.”
Our child
.
“Just don’t kill it.”
He made her sound like some psycho-murderer—which she
wasn’t
. Sam’s version of her was much better than Luke’s. She was a young woman. A caring, loving young woman who made a mistake. Foreboding fired through her veins. Except for the tell-all part. “I’m not.”
“You’re not?”
She shook her head as the admission escaped, “I
can’t
.”
“Does that mean...?”
Hope tiptoed into his gaze, though she noted he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. “I don’t know what it means, Luke. All I know is when I picked up the phone to call the doctor, I couldn’t.” She couldn’t speak, she couldn’t move.
She couldn’t go through with it.
“We can do this,” he urged, as though infused with new energy. “Together we can make this work. I know we can.”
There he goes again, she thought, fear skating up her spine. The “we can do anything” spiel. She peered at him through the silence, and the gnawing returned. Until you find out the truth, then there won’t be a “we” to it!
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sam and Vic arrived at the office together. It was a weird feeling, this concept of spending so much time together. They worked together all day then wound up together at night. Over and over again. Like a married couple.
A shudder scurried up her spine.
Married couple.
Marriage
.
Sam slapped the pen to her desktop and fixated on the thought.
Where the hell did that come from
? Her gaze seized onto the red lounge chair in the corner, the one she hadn’t used in months. Smooth and supple, shiny and clean, the leather gleamed with non-use. Why hadn’t she sat there lately, to ponder life, work, the obstacles in her current case?
Because her days and nights were filled with a man, with no time to think? The walls closed in. Because she was too consumed with her sister as opposed to her case? The recent failures of her expert witness crowded in.
Had she allowed herself to slip? To become dis-tracted?
And why would her mind even venture near the concept of marriage? Forget that she and Vic were miles away from the ritual, she wasn’t interested! Never had been.
Sam swiveled around in her chair and sent her gaze flying out the window. Dotted with boats, littered with sunshine, the water stretched out before her, bordered by small luxury islands, home to millionaire estates boasting a tropical flair. Miami was a city with energy—heat. From the beaches to the skyscrapers, the Caribbean in its backyard, this city was the picture-perfect place to live, much like her life. Everything she wanted she had; freedom, power and success her life was picture-perfect.
Hell—she didn’t want to get married any more than she wanted to jump out her window! Her heart came to a thundering stop.
Did Vic
?
As though she were practicing a foreign language, she lost all ease of thought, the concept uncomfortable to the tongue. They were lovers, friends... Sure, they said the words, enjoyed the deeper level of connection... But that’s all it was, right? A connection, a feeling... It didn’t meant anything, didn’t change anything.
Did it
?
“Hey, boss.”
Sam jumped at the sound of Maria’s voice and whirled around. “
Mare
,” she said in a rush of breath.
“What’s the matter?”
“What?”
“You.” Dressed in bright yellow, gold hoops dangling at her ears, she glanced around the room. “You okay? Did I interrupt something?”
“Of course not,” she replied, thankful her paralegal couldn’t hear the pounding in her chest.
Maria walked up and plopped down a stack of files. Her eyes grew sharp. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Of course I am. I’m fine,” she insisted, and rolled her chair back in under her desk and asked, “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You look kinda, you know,” heavily-lined black eyes turned accusatory, “flustered.”
Sam smiled at the dramatic tone. “I assure you, I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.”
Except these insane thoughts I’m entertaining
. But she wasn’t going there. Not in
this
lifetime, anyway. “Is Raul here, yet?”
“He just called. Wants you in his office,
rapido
.”
She leapt up with a grin, relieved for a change in course. “Just the news I’m waiting for. Thanks, Mare.” Relieved to have a new line of focus and escape Maria’s scrutiny, Sam headed for the door, Maria close at her side.
Marriage. My God—the mere thought was insane!
Sam hurried out of the office. The girl was too close to her to miss the signs.
The signs of love
. She groaned inwardly and picked up her stride.
More space. I need more space. Her emotions were playing tricks on her mind. They tempted her to daydream and lose focus from the tasks at hand.
Which would not do. She was going to have to get a grip. She was an attorney—a shark—a high-powered defender of justice!
Not
some sappy teenager who had nothing better to do than think about her boyfriend all day.
Barreling through her rationalization, Sam picked up her stride as thoughts ripped and tore. She was marked for partner in one of Miami’s most prestigious law firms. She didn’t have time for this mind mush.
Sam breezed into Raul’s office and came to a halt behind one of his blue-covered chairs. “You have news on Scaliano?” she asked, intent on shifting gears.
“I do.”
She grasped hold of the chair back and gently pressed her grip. “Good news or bad?”
“Good. DA says he wants to hear more about our evidence against the CEO.”
A flood of relief swamped her. “Wonderful.”
“Have a seat, Sam.”
She did as he asked and crossed one leg over the other, pulling the coral linen hem over her knee.
“I have a contact,” he said, and something wavered behind his eyes, “who assures me we’re poised for success.”
“Really?” She settled in for details. “Who?”
Raul pulled back. “I’d like to keep that confidential for the time being, but trust me when I say he’s more than reliable.”
Okay. She was used to confidential sources. She leaned back into her chair, studying his expression more fully. It still felt like he was holding back. “What did he have to say?”
“The DA wants everything we have on the man. Perry Fitness, Regency Hotel, and anything else we may know. Do I remember correctly, you mentioned your bartender friend knows of another incident involving Mr. Scaliano?”
“Yes,” she replied with a suppressed smile. And he’s not my bartender friend Sam wanted to add, though she understood it was Raul’s way of glossing over any extracurricular activities she may have involved with the man.
But then again, Raul didn’t know about her and Vic. Nor was it any of his business, though she suddenly wondered if it would matter. Would Raul care that she had taken up with Vic? Would he frown upon the liaison? She’d never really been serious with anyone before. “Gateway Suites,” she replied, abandoning the new track of thought her mind was taking. “Maria’s working up a file on them as we speak.”
“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?”