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“Being predictable is overrated.”
“I’ve always thought so. What’s up? Need advice on women? I knew she had you all twisted up.”
I nearly denied. Or deflected. Both at the same time wasn’t out of the question. But Dexter had a way with women I would never have.
“I don’t like being a remedial student.” I gripped the arm of my chair until my knuckles were bone-white.
I expected Dexter’s quick bark of laughter. When it didn’t come, I waited.
“You’re kidding me, right?” His voice was surprisingly soft. “The great Preston Shaw, needing help at anything? You aced every class. Dated all the most desirable girls, until you moved on to the next. Now you’re one of the most successful divorce attorneys in New York. You collect fat retainers like candy.”
I was struck speechless. He couldn’t see me that way. I certainly did not.
“You’re the best, Pres. You always have been.”
I searched for my voice. “It takes all my time. I don’t know how to do anything else but work. It’s like I’m Dad’s machine. He pointed me in the direction he wanted me to go and I just…went.”
“He pointed you because he knew you wouldn’t let him down. He never even considered asking me.” Dex’s laughter was too sharp. “Good thing I never minded being in your shadow, because God knows I’m not destined to step out of it.”
“What are you talking about? Women flock to you. Your little black book is a phone book with extra pages stapled in.”
“Right. Because you can’t get dates if you really wanted them.” He chuckled. “Come off it, man. You give off an air of being too important for us mere mortals. Don’t blame people for noticing and giving you your space.”
When I didn’t reply, his voice dropped an octave. “Getting a little lonely up there in all that rarefied air you breathe in your house high on the mountain?”
“It’s not a mountain. Just a hill.”
“It’s a goddamn metaphor for all the rest and you know it.”
“No, I really don’t.”
He laughed again. “I live right in the center of the square.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
“Ah, there’s the irritation. You held out longer than I would’ve given you credit for.” He paused. “I need people around me. Especially women. I enjoy them. You always made fun of me for that. Actually, no, correction, you never spoke enough to insult me. Just gave me that famous cold-eyed sneer that is so effective in a courtroom.”
I put my phone on speaker and set it on the side table so I could lean forward and drop my head into my hands. My tie tightened around my throat so I dragged it off and let an article of clothing drop to the floor for the first time in my life.
Fuck Ralph Lauren.
Just fuck all of it.
“I didn’t want any of this,” I said when I could speak again. “I wanted to go to LA and live on the beach and represent drunken rockstars against their tyrannical record companies.”
“I suppose that sounds wild to you, but you know, most people want to be a rockstar, not their attorney of record.”
I had to laugh as I loosened the top few buttons on my shirt. The air against my still too hot skin made me think about kissing Ryan, wishing she’d seen more of me—and that I’d definitely seen more of her. I was wishing entirely too much tonight.
“You know, Pres, you can have that. You can just quit tomorrow. Get a place out there. Start a new firm and hang out your shingle, if that’s really what you want. Live, man. You only get one life, but you get a hundred chances to do it over.” He exhaled. “As for Dad, just fuck him. He never gave you the option. Repay the favor. It’s his fucking firm. Not yours. You don’t owe him shit. And if you ever did, you paid off that debt years ago.”
“I don’t want that old dream anymore. I don’t,” I repeated when he made a derisive sound. “But I do want something else. I need it.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “My buddy Jared from college needed help with a paternity case last year. He found out he had a little girl with a woman he’d had a fling with, and now she’s his legally. A happy ending, you know?”
“Yeah, I get it.”
“But in my line of work, I hold a blowtorch for people to raze everything around them.”
“Still could make for a happy ending,” Dex argued. “Staying in a bad marriage is worse than walking away.”
