“I’m off. I’ll see you guys this weekend,” Carter said as his cell rang. He answered while rising and giving a kiss to my mom. “Hang on,” he told the caller and stared down at my mom. “You guys be safe. Let Beau drive. He does it for a living.”
“Absolutely,” she said in the same playful tone as before. “Beau’s doing all the driving.” Carter chuckled and waggled his eyebrows at me while lifting the phone to his ear. He left us with long strides out of the room.
“Come on, babe. I’ll have this loaded up. Let’s be on the road early so we don’t hit traffic,” my mom said, sliding from the bench seat. I stayed in my spot, finishing my cup of coffee. Nomatter what she said, it’d take her another hour before we ever managed to load into the SUV and start driving down the road.
19: The Pintail
Dash/Beau
Dash
One week later
The click of the camera’s lens drew my attention back to reality. Overwhelmed by the emotions assailing me, I glanced at Chandler to see his phone in his hand and him snapping my photo. He sat in one of the two comfortable chairs that Beau and I used while staring out at Lake Michigan. Those were happier times, when I was home more, and life’s joy came from being in the other’s company.
Tonight was meant to be a celebration. Chandler was the only one to make time for me after another case ended in my favor. The multi-million dollar gangbuster trial ended in a fizzle before we ever made it to the courtroom. But wins weren’t the same without Beau here to listen to me regale him with all the details. Though, honestly, it had been a couple of years since I’d included him in my successes, putting the firm above my guy. Shame closed my eyes for a few long seconds.
“It’s a good look on you,” Chandler remarked, his finger air tracing the outline of my body. I assumed he meant the black-on-black slacks and turtleneck sweater I wore and not the shame I’d just had coursing through me. I brought my scotch glass to my lips, doing my best to savor the rich flavor as it lingered like the warmth of the alcohol. Too bad I’d never grown to appreciate the drink.
“Be honest with me,” I said. “Why’re you here?” I stared directly at Chandler. “Are you here on my father’s behalf?”
Chandler was in the depths of his drinks, edging on his way toward drunk, and gave a slight pause, confirming what I suspected. At this point, no matter what was said, I knew the truth, but I needed a friend, even if it came by way of a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
I stood, my mind swirling with concern and anxiety over Beau. I barely thought of anything more than my man. Beau needed to get back here and stop this ridiculous fighting. I’d be celebrating with him tonight, certainly not Chandler. Never Chandler. I headed for the bottle of scotch to top Chandler’s glass off to help his words flow more freely with intoxication.
“Your father suggested I contact you about a position,” he said with a slight slur.
“What did he want to know?” I asked as if he’d answered a different way.
“He didn’t ask for anything,” Chandler said. The bottom of his nose gave the smallest flare revealing his lie. Lessons learned after over twenty-five years of knowing someone. “He was hopeful that you were taking care of yourself and living a happy life.”
Yeah, right. My father never cared if any of his children were happy in their lives, only that they toed the family line. “I find that hard to believe. So, what have you told him?”
“That you’re a badass and I wasn’t going to engage in whatever game he wanted me to play.” His tone changed slightly as that explanation rolled off his tongue as if rehearsed.
I nodded, feeling it was time to retreat and reassess.
“Dash, I’ve never possessed the ‘it’ factor. But you do. That firm we work for could be yours one day.”
“Are you here to stir up trouble for me at the firm?” I asked.
“What? Of course not.” Chandler answered, affronted by the insinuation.
I nodded. “Have you betrayed Joy for her help all those years ago? I suspect she’s firmly on my father’s side now, I haven’t heard from her since then.”
“No, of course not. I assure you. That would incriminate me as well,” Chandler said. “When I arrived in Chicago and saw your success, I was proud of you. I wanted to be a part of it.”
“If you provide my father with proprietary information, it’ll be traced back to me. I’ll lose everything. I’m placing my trust in you.” I delivered the lie without a hint of emotion and with no change in my expression. While I wanted Chandler to leave for the night, I also feared the depth of my longing for Beau. How low could I go?
“Understood,” Chandler remarked.
I nodded, peering down at the condensation from my cocktail glass. “I don’t want to appear rude, but it’s time you headed home.”
“There’s no need to be worried about him…”
“Thank you for your honesty, Chandler.” I cut him off and replied firmly. “I need to be alone. It’s been a long week.”
He didn’t utter another word as he rose and left through the front door in my final test of the night. The Chandler I knew was never compliant with anything. His sassy mouth made sure of that. The low level panic I managed to tamp down most days, surged. This time I took a larger drink of my watered down scotch, my face scrunched under the taste.
