They separated. Fox pulled out his cell phone to contact Shelley. There, at least, he'd worked out his approach. As he talked to her about coming into the office, listened to her latest idea of retribution on Block, Derrick Napper passed by in his cruiser. Napper slowed, grinned, and lifted his middle finger from the steering wheel.
Fox thought, Asshole, and kept walking. He closed the phone as he reached his office door.
“Morning, Mrs. H.”
“Good morning. How was the meeting?”
“I suggested the image of a naked Jessica Simpson as the new town symbol. It's currently under consideration.”
“That ought to get the Hollow some attention. I'm only in for an hour this morning. I called Layla, and she's fine coming in early.”
“Oh.”
“I have an appointment with our real estate agent. We sold the house.”
“Youâwhen?”
“Saturday. A lot to do,” she said briskly. “You'll handle the settlement for us, won't you?”
“Sure, of course.” Too fast, he thought. This was happening too fast.
“Fox, I won't be coming in after today. Layla can handle everything now.”
“Butâ” But what, he thought. He'd known this was coming.
“We've decided to drive out to Minneapolis, and take our time. We've got most everything packed up, and ready to ship out. Our girl's found a condo she thinks we'll like, only a few miles from her. I've drawn up a limited power of attorney for you, so you can handle the settlement. We won't be here for it.”
“I'll look it over. I have to run upstairs. I'll be back in a minute.”
“Your first appointment's in fifteen minutes,” she called after him.
“I'll be back in one.”
He was true to his word, and walked straight to her desk. He put a wrapped box in front of her. “It's not a going-away present. I'm too mad at you for leaving me to give you a present for that. It's for everything else.”
“Well.” She sniffled a little as she unwrapped the box, and made him smile at the way she preserved the paper, folded it neatly before opening the lid.
They were pearls, as dignified and traditional as she was. The clasp was fashioned as a jeweled bouquet of roses. “I know how you are about flowers,” he began when she said nothing. “So these caught my eye.”
“They're absolutely beautiful. Absolutelyâ” Her voice cracked. “They're too expensive.”
“I'm still the boss around here.” He took them out, put them around her neck himself. “And you're part of the reason I can afford them.” His credit card had let out a single short scream on being swiped, but the look on her face made it all worthwhile. “They look nice on you, Mrs. H.”
She brushed her fingertips over the strand. “I'm so proud of you.” Rising, she put her arms around him. “You're such a good boy. I'll think of you. I'll pray for you.” She sighed, stepped back. “And I'll miss you. Thank you, Fox.”
“Go ahead. You know you want to.”
She managed a watery laugh and rushed to a decorative wall mirror. “Oh my goodness! I feel like a queen.” In the glass her eyes met his. “Thank you, Fox, for everything.”
When the door opened, she bustled back to her desk to log in his first appointment. By the time he escorted the client out again, she was gone.
“Alice said you and she had said your good-byes.” Understanding shone in Layla's eyes. “And she showed off her pearls. You did good there. They couldn't have been more perfect.”
“Stick around a few years, you may cop some.” He rolled his shoulders. “Gotta shake it off, I know. Listen, Shelley's coming inâa quick squeeze-in.”
“Are you going to tell her about what happened with Block?”
“Why would I?”
“Why would you?” Layla murmured. “I'll pull her file.”
“No, I'm hoping we won't need it. Let me ask you something. If you loved a guy enough to marry him, and he screwed up big time, would that just be it? Say you still love him. One of the reasons you fell in the first place was because he wasn't altogether bright, but pretty affable, and he loved you back. Or would you give him another chance?”
“You want Shelley to give him another chance.”
“I'm Shelley's lawyer, so I want what she wants, within reason. Maybe what she wants is marriage counseling.”
“You asked her to come in so you can
suggest
she might want to try counseling.” Studying him, Layla nodded slowly. “After he beat the crap out of you?”
“Extenuating circumstances there. She doesn't want the divorce, Layla. She just wants him to feel as crappy as she does and more so. I'm just going to give her another option. The rest is up to her. So, would you give him another chance?”
“I believe in second chances, but it would depend. How much did I love him, how much did I make him pay before giving him that second chance. Both would have to be a lot.”
“That's what I figured. Just send her back when she gets here.”
Layla sat where she was. She thought of Alice's damp eyes and beautiful pearls. She thought of Fox bleeding in the kitchen, and the pain that leeched every drop of color from his face. She thought of him playing guitar in a noisy bar, and running toward a burning house to save the dogs.
When Shelley came in, eyes glittering with fury and misery, Layla sent her back. She thought a great deal more as she answered the phone, as she finished the Monday morning business Alice had begun.
When Shelley came out again, she was weeping a little, but there was something in her eyes that hadn't been in them when she'd come in. And that was hope.
“I want to ask you something.”
Here, Layla thought, we go again. “What is it?”
“Would I be a complete fool if I called this number?” She held out a business card. “If I made an appointment with this marriage counselor Fox said is really good? If I gave that idiot Block a chance and saw if maybe we could fix things between us?”
“I think you'd be a complete fool if you didn't do whatever it takes to get what you want most.”
“I don't know why I want that man.” Shelley looked down at the card in her hand. “But I guess maybe this could help me find out. Thanks, Layla.”
“Good luck, Shelley.”
What was the point in being a complete fool? Layla asked herself. Before she bogged down in what-ifs and maybes, she pushed back from her desk and marched straight back to Fox's office.
He hammered at the keyboard, brows knitted. He barely gave her a grunt as she stepped to his desk.
“All right,” she said. “I'll sleep with you.”
His fingers paused. He cocked his head up, aimed his eyes to hers. “This is excellent news.” Swiveling, he faced her more fully. “Right now?”
“This is so easy for you, isn't it?”
“Actuallyâ”
“Just âsure, let's go.' ”
“I feel, under the circumstances, I shouldn't have to point out that yes, I am a guy.”
“It's not just that.” She threw out her arms as she whirled into a pace. “I bet you were raised to think of sex as a natural act, as a basic form of human expression, even a physical celebration between two consenting adults.”
He waited a beat. “Isn't it?”
Stopping, facing him, she made a helpless gesture with her hands. “I was raised to think of it as an enormous and weighty step. One that carries responsibility, that has repercussions. That because sex and intimacy are synonymous, you don't just go around jumping into bed because you want an itch scratched.”
“But you're going to sleep with me anyway.”
“I said I was, didn't I?”
“Why?”
“Because Shelley's calling a marriage counselor.” And now, Layla sighed. “Because you play the damn guitar, and I know without counting that there's another dollar in that stupid jar even though Alice is gone, because you said fuck. Because Cal told Quinn you wouldn't press charges against Block.”
“All of those sound like fairly good reasons to be pals,” Fox considered. “They don't sound like reasons to have sex.”
“I can have any reasons I like to have sex with you,” she said, just prissily enough to make him fight off a grin. “Including the fact that you've got a great ass, that you can look at me and make me feel like you've already got your hands on me. And just because I want to. So I'm going to have sex with you.”
“As I said, this is excellent news. Hey, Sage, how's it going?”
“Really good. Sorry to interrupt.”
With her stomach already sinking to her knees, Layla turned. The woman who stood in the doorway had a big O'Dell grin on her face. Her hair was a short sweep of fiery red around a pretty face made compelling by a pair of golden brown eyes.
“Layla, this is my sister Sage. Sage, Layla.”
“Nice to meet you.” In snug jeans tucked into stylish boots, Sage stepped forward to offer a hand.
“Yes. Well. I'm just going to go out to reception and beat my head against the wall for a few minutes. Excuse me.”
Sage watched her walk away, then turned back to her brother. “Very nice package.”
“Cut it out. It's too weird to have you checking out the same woman I am. Besides, you're married.”
“Marriage doesn't pluck out the eyes. Hey.” She spread her arms.
He rose, walked into them, and banding her with his, lifted her off her feet for a quick swing. “I thought I was meeting you at Sparrow's.”
“You are, but I wanted to drop by.”
“Where's Paula?”
“She's taking the meeting that gave us the excuse to come East. In D.C. She'll be up later. Let me look at you, Foxy Loxy.”
“Looking back at you, Parsley Sage.”
“Still enjoying small-town law?”
“Still a lesbian?”
She laughed. “Okay, enough of that. I guess I should come back later, when you're not having sex with your office manager.”
“I think that's been postponed due to acute embarrassment.”
“I hope I didn't screw it up.”
“I'll fix it. Mom said you weren't clear about how long you're staying.”
“I guess we weren't. It sort of depends.” She blew out a breath. “It sort of depends on you.”
“You and Paula want to practice small-town lesbian law, and want to go into partnership with me in the Hollow.” He got them a couple of Cokes.
“No. Partnership might be a factor, depending on your definition.”
He handed her the Coke. “What's up, Sage?”
“If you're busy, we can talk about this tonight. Maybe have a drink.”
She was nervous, Fox noted, and Sage was rarely nervous. “I've got time.”
“Well, the thing is, Fox.” She tapped her fingers on the can as she wandered around the room. “The thing is, Paula and I have decided to have a baby.”
“That's great. That's terrific. How do you guys do that? Do you call Rent-a-Penis? Sperm R Us?”
“Don't be an ass.”
“Sorry, there are jokes here waiting to happen.”
“Ha ha. We've thought about it a lot, talked it through. We actually think we'll want a couple of kids. And we decided, for the first one, Paula will get pregnant. I'll, you know, take round two.”
“You'll be great parents.” Reaching out, he gave her hair a quick tug. “The kids'll be lucky to have both of you.”
“We want to be. We're sure as hell going to try to be. To take the first step, we need a donor.” She turned back, faced him. “We want it to be you.”
“Sorry, what? What?” The Coke, fortunately not yet opened, slipped right out of his hands.
“I know it's big, and strange.” Smoothly, she bent to retrieve his Coke and hand it to him while he simply goggled at her. “And we won't hold it against you if you say no.”
“Why? I mean, lame jokes aside, there are, like banks for this kind of thing. You can make a withdrawal.”
“And there are very good places, where donors are very well screened, and you can select specific qualities. That's an option, but far from our first. You and I are the same blood, Fox, the same gene pool. The baby, the baby would be more ours because of that.”
“Um, Ridge? He's already proven himself in this department.”
“Which is one of the reasons I don't feel right asking him. And, while I love him like crazy, both Paula and I zeroed in on you. Our Ridge is a dreamer, an artist, a beautiful soul. You're a doer, Fox. You're always going to try to do the right thing, but you get things done. And you and I are closer personality-wise, physically, too. Same coloring.” She tugged on her hair herself now. “I went red, but under the dye, my hair's the same color as yours.”
He was, he realized, still stuck back on the term
donor
. “I'm a little weirded out here, Sage.”
“I bet. I'm going to ask you to think about it. Don't say yes or no yet because it's a lot to think about. After you do, if it's no, we'll understand. I haven't said anything to anyone else in the family, so there's no pressure there.”
“Appreciate it. Listen, I'm oddly flattered that you and Paula would, ah . . . want me to sub for you. I'll think about it.”
“Thanks.” She pressed her cheek to his. “I'll see you at lunch.”
When she left he stared down at the Coke in his hand, then crossed over and put it back in his little fridge. He didn't think he needed any more stimulation. One thing at a time, he decided, and went out to Layla.