Page 38 of Keeping Denver

"Denver." Frances places a hand on my shoulder, and I turn to face her. "I'd like to offer you a place to stay. We have plenty of room."

"I don't want to put you out. A hotel is fine until I can figure something else out. I'll find another job and…"

Spencer cuts me off. "You can come work for me."

"What?"

"My assistant has gone on maternity leave and informed me the other day she has decided to stay home with her baby indefinitely. You'd be doing me a huge favor."

I think about it for a minute. "Are you sure?"

Spencer grins. "Hell, yeah." He rubs his hands together and smirks. "Not only will you be doing me a favor, but it will also piss off Callan."

I shake my head, "I won't accept the job as a way to punish Callan. That's not what I want."

"You won't be punishing Callan. I know you're too good to do something like that. I, however, am not." Spencer steps up to me. "Can you at least agree to stay with Frances and Richard? Just for a few days and think about my offer?"

I sigh. "Okay. I'll stay and think about it."

"Good." Spencer kisses the top of my head. "Now I'm going to go put this bullshit with Kelly to rest. I'll be back later when I have everything taken care of."

As Spencer walks out the door, I send up a silent prayer hoping he can fix my mess. I want to forget any of it ever happened and move on with my life. Even though imagining life without Callan feels like someone is ripping my heart from my chest.

15

Callan

I wake with a pounding in my head, and groan. "Fuck." Cracking one eye open, I realize I'm not in my bed. Instead, I'm face down on the living room floor with an empty bottle of Jack sitting next to my face. What the fuck happened last night? Rolling to my back, I stare up at the ceiling trying to gain clarity. It doesn't take long for the memories of yesterday's events to come rushing back, and close my eyes, as the vision of Denver's face stricken with fear and hurt flashes through the forefront of my brain. Bile rises in my throat. Picking myself up off the floor, I dash down the hall to the bathroom, lifting the lid of the toilet, where I proceed to empty the contents of my stomach. Shit. How much did I drink?

Stumbling to the sink, I wash my face, brush my teeth, and take in my reflection. "What the fuck are you doing, asshole." Bile threatens to rise in my throat once again when the gravity of my situation punches me in the gut. I've made the worst mistake of my life. Tamping down the urge to retch, I fly out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. Opening the closet door, I grab the first pair of shoes in reach and shove my feet into them. Looking up, my eyes land on the side of the closet filled with Denver's clothes. "Shit!" Denver is probably sitting in a cell right now scared out of her mind, and it's all my fault. Jogging out of the bedroom and down the hall, I stop at the kitchen island long enough to snatch my phone and the keys. The moment I fling the door open, I run into Spencer, standing there with his fist raised.

"Good morning, fuckface." His demeanor hints at his current mood.

"I don't have time for your shit. What do you want, Spencer?"

"Oh? And might I ask where you are rushing off too? It's certainly not to get your woman out of jail where she spent the night. I already took care of that earlier this morning, dumbass." Spencer breezes pass me, bumping my shoulder along the way. "Although," he continues, "I don't think you could call her your girlfriend anymore. Not since you tossed her aside like trash."

My fists clench at my sides. "You want to tell me what you're going on about and where MY woman is?"

"Well, after I posted Denver's bail this morning," Spencer walks into my kitchen, opens the refrigerator door, and grabs a protein shake. "And not because you need to know, but because I'm kind of feeling sorry for your hungover ass right now." Spencer opens the drink in his hand, then downs half of it before continuing, "I took her to Frances and Richard's house, because unlike you, the rest of us didn't turn our backs on her." He chucks the empty bottle in the trash can.

Anger has me rushing my best friend. I fist his shirt, getting in his face. "I made a fucking mistake." I push his back against the wall. "Joslyn ambushed me on the sidewalk outside my office yesterday. She started spewing bullshit about how I don't know Denver and how I'm too gullible when it comes to damsels in distress. She fucking got inside my head and put me in a piss mood. Then I walk in on Kelly accusing Denver of stealing. A second later, the police were there, finding not only Kelly's wallet but Frances' necklace in Denver's purse? The evidence was right there." I shake my head. "Then, all the shit Joslyn had said came rushing back. I started doubting us and how quickly I fell for her. For a split second, I wondered if Joslyn was right," I yell, shoving my friend once more.

Spencer breaks from my hold and pushes me, causing me to stumble back. "You fucked up, and you need to own that shit. You turned your back on Denver. I can't believe you let that bitch Joslyn get in your head. You fought your feelings for Denver since the first day you laid eyes on her, and then, when you finally have her, you pull some shit like this." Spencer stalks away. "Did you even take a minute to hear her out? To get her side of the story? You're a lawyer for Christ's sake, Callan. Yet you tossed her aside as if she were nothing. As if the past few weeks meant jack shit."

"You don't have to tell me this, Spencer. I'm aware of how bad I fucked up." Stepping into my personal space, Spencer levels me with a look I have only seen a handful of times from him.

"I don't think you do know, Callan. You weren't the one who saw the loss of hope in her eyes when I picked her up from the police station. And you sure as fuck wasn't the one wiping away Denver's tears as she sat on the bathroom floor asking why the man she is in love with doesn't feel the same way."

My heart sinks deeper and deeper with every word Spencer speaks. "Tell me what I'm supposed to do, man." I pull at my hair. "I need to get her back. I have to make her forgive me."

Spencer shrugs. "I don't know, Callan. It's not about you. It's about Denver. All I can tell you is that she's heartbroken and doesn't want to see you. Frances and I convinced her to stay over at her place for a while since she doesn't have a home."

"She has a home," I growl.

"Not according to her—a job either." Spencer gets a smug look on his face. "However, I remedied that situation. Denver now works for me."

"What the fuck, Spencer. What are you trying to play here?"