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“Are you blaming me for your marriage too?”
The audacity of this woman.
I shake my head and scrub the tears away with the back of my hand. “No. Marrying Rob was my choice. But if dad were alive, and if he saw bruises on my body, he wouldn’t have told me that every marriage has its struggles. He would have fought tooth and nail to get me out of there.”
She gives me nothing but a stony stare.
I don’t know why I’m surprised.
“But I guess I should thank you.” Her eyes widen in surprise. “For teaching me everything a mother shouldn’t be.”
She stands there, mute and unfeeling when I turn my back. She remains like that as I get in the car and drive away.
Her silence is deafening.
It’s in her silence, I finally break.
Seven
My heels are the loudest thing I’ve ever heard as they clink against the marble tiles of the lobby. Tiles that are so perfectly polished I can see my reflection in them.
That has a sexual harassment suit written all over it.
Blowing out a steadying breath, I right myself as my heels continue to pound.
Jake is waiting by the elevators, standing tall in his signature custom suit. I wonder if that man wears a suit to bed.
“Hey,” I say.
“Ready?”
No warm smile or friendly hug from the man that has become more like an older brother to me in the last two years. Today he’s wearing his business face. Dark chocolate hair styled to perfection; his mouth is set into a hard line. The man exudes confidence without even trying.
Thankfully, he’s on my side today.
The elevator doors open as I square my shoulders and ignore the sweat breaking out at the nape of my neck.
“I think so.”
He holds the elevator door while keeping his stare on me. “I’m going to ask you again. Are you ready?”
I take a deep breath knowing once I’m inside that elevator there’s no backing out. Ellison & Smith law firm is on the third floor.
“I’m ready,” I tell him as we both step inside the elevator.
The doors close, and the air escapes my lungs in quiet gasps.
“Okay, I might be a little nervous,” I admit, not daring to look at him. I feel crazy. I don’t need to see it reflected in his eyes when he looks at me.
“Nerves are good.”
They don’t feel good to me.
“Aren’t you nervous?” I ask.
A sidelong glance is my only answer.
Right, Jake doesn’t get nervous.
