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I nodded. “They are.”
She took a drink of fizzy water and furrowed her brow. “Thinking about copyright cases, there was one instance, gosh, it was early RI days when your daddy had to outwit a few shady characters… it was actually an inter-band dispute.”
She lifted her goblet to her lips, tipped it toward me with an arched brow. “That is what you’re interested in, isn’t it?”
She knew. Fuck, she knew I wasn’t minding my own business. She knew all about Drake and Jay. Of course she did.
“Tell me, sweet daughter of mine, why on earth are you taking on Graphic Temple’s case when you’re already working your tail off? You know those lawyers are perfectly capable.”
I didn’t want this conversation. Mom had done so well in rehab, which had served mostly as therapy, since fortunately, her brain and body hadn’t become deeply dependent on alcohol. She’d only been home for such a short time, so I didn’t want to bring any new drama into her life. I didn’t want to bring up Drake, a subject she’d avoided, too.
As far as she knew we were broken up, it was by my hand and I was “fine” with it. Damn, it was always hard to even pretend to be “fine” without shedding a tear.
My pause had been too long. I didn’t want to lie but I couldn’t possibly tell her I was out for blood. “I’m just trying to learn something new.” That was both the truth and a deflection. One that didn’t work.
“Are you really now? Maeve, don’t make me wring it out of you. Are you back with Drake? You can tell me. I’m not going to self-destruct. Mama’s back.”
What more could I say? I wasn’t down to tell my mom just how hot this vengeance burned inside. I kept it simple. “Okay, so I’m trying to learn, but also, you know when you just don’t think someone deserves even an inch? Drake and I aren’t together, but what I know about Jason Fry is that… he doesn’t deserve a settlement. He’s a bad guy who betrayed his friend in the worse way. I don’t want RI to pay a single dime to that guy and I know that’s what’ll happen. Maybe I’m just trying to be too clever…”
I lowered my eyes, thinking my mom might think I was being too big for my britches. Thinking I had more knowledge than the partners at a huge firm like RI. Her hand landed on mine. I raised my eyes and found hers.
“You got more from me than my brown eyes and small feet.” A mischievous smile tugged her lips upward. “Revenge has always been my brand of retaliation.” She took her hand back, lifted her fork, and ate another bite of dinner.
As she chewed, she clearly searched her mind for answers. “So, if I recall correctly, there was a situation once upon a time, like I said, early RI days, inter-band conflict. I’ll tell you what you need to look into. It worked once, could work again if all the details fall in line.”
What my mom told me next could answer every burning need aching in my chest. She told me about a past case that RI had won. Not only had they not paid out, they’d countersued and won punitive damages. This was the answer.
When I went to bed that night, writing up notes for Hunter, hoping he’d actually execute on my suggestions, a shimmer of hope sparkled. I’d felt so guilty for all I’d put Drake through. Since the moment I’d met him, he’d shown me nothing but unconditional support. Unconditional love. My life had been full of drama after drama, and he’d held me up every step of the way.
I couldn’t regret what I’d done in breaking up with him. The weeks with my mom in rehab had consumed me, and I’d had nothing to give anyone. People who didn’t worry couldn’t possibly understand how debilitating worry could be. My boss had asked me twice in that time if I needed some time off; my focus just wasn’t there. I’d never been good at splitting my attention.
I couldn’t regret it. No. But I sure as hell wanted it to be different now. I never wanted Drake to think I hadn’t loved him.
I’d never been good at talking about my emotions but I could be good at showing them. I’d be there for Drake always. Fighting behind the scenes. Loving him invisibly.
