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“Why were you so anxious to get here? I know it wasn’t all me,” Trish said. She leaned her head on my shoulder, and I pulled her closer. God, she smelled good. Like sugar. Or vanilla. Maybe cinnamon too.
“After I found out about you, that was mostly the reason.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I had a victory of sorts today, but it feels hollow.”
“Why’s that?” Trish angled her head with interest.
“For the first time, I’m kind of ashamed of my career.”
I blinked at him. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Wish I was.” He dropped down onto the step beside us. “I’m not supposed to say this, but I don’t like my client being free.”
“If you were more discreet, you wouldn’t be in this position,” I said.
Trish looked back and forth between us, question marks in her eyes.
“I can’t turn down the case,” Patrick said by way of explanation. “And I can’t not do my job to the best of my ability.”
“You’re a lawyer?” she asked, but I couldn’t make out what the odd sound in her voice meant.
“Yeah. You need one?”
She stilled, and I stroked her shoulder. “He’s the best.”
“I thought you were the best.”
I smiled at that. “We both are in our respective areas of expertise.”
“Now that I’ve crashed the party, where are we off to?” Patrick showed off his skill of changing the subject when it ventured to a topic he didn’t wish to discuss. And if he didn’t want to talk about what a great attorney he was, he was really in knots over this case.
“I should be going,” Trish said, moving to stand.
“Already?” I didn’t bother to hide that I didn’t want her to leave.
“Oh, don’t leave on my account.” Patrick patted her thigh. She flinched and moved closer into my body. He looked contrite. “Trish, if I’ve offended you, I’m truly sorry.”
“No. Not at all.” Her tone was light, but she stayed tucked against me. Concern niggled in my brain, but before I could dwell on it, she pushed off my leg to stand. “I need to get my bag.”
“Right,” I said, trying to remain a gentleman. “Thanks a lot,” I mouthed to Patrick.
He lingeredbehind as we returned to my house, following us into the kitchen.
“Can I tempt you with coffee? More cake?” I sounded pathetic, but I wanted her to stay.
Patrick snorted behind me. Trish didn’t acknowledge the noise.
“I really have to go,” she said softly. She kissed my cheek. “I had a fantastic time. And thank you for dinner.” She stood, but stopped abruptly. “Oh. I want that recipe.”
“Right. Let me get it.” I opened the cabinet and retrieved a worn wooden recipe box, thumbing through it until I found what I was looking for.
She looked at me strangely. “Mrs. Norris had one just like it.” Trish pointed at the recipe box. “I have the recipes, but I never found the box after she passed away.”
Her expression turned sad, and I hated it.
“It’s the inside that counts,” I said quietly. That seemed to satisfy her. “I’ll run make a copy in my office.” I nudged Patrick as I passed. “Behave.”
I foundit odd that Trish didn’t call the woman who had raised her “mom.” There were a million possibilities as to why she wouldn’t. I imagined at the top of that list was she feared getting too close and losing her. Which inevitably happened. Whatever her reasons, it didn’t set well with me that she had no family.
How could a person who’d survived spending a good deal of her life unwanted be so bright? She left an impression on every person who was lucky enough to encounter her. I’d witnessed it countless times at the food truck. And I didn’t believe she had any idea how much just her smile touched others.
