Matthew's Children
C.J. Carmichael
For his children’s sake…Ever since his marriage ended, lawyer Matthew Gray has put his social life on hold to become a better father to his kids. But his gorgeous colleague, Jane Prentice, is difficult to ignore. And as they work together on a tough case, it becomes harder and harder for Matt to keep his distance.When she finds herself falling for him, Jane realises she has to tell Matt the real reason she’s been keeping her distance. And their relationship could be over before it truly begins once he learns her secret…
“In a firm this size, we can’t keep avoiding one another.”
“Really?” Jane said. “I thought we were getting damn good at it.”
Matthew laughed. Then sobered quickly. “Not that I ever wanted to avoid you. I hate that you were stuck in the middle of this.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“There are some who would disagree.”
“I can’t believe she actually spied on you.” Jane covered her mouth. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. But it’s just so wrong. You’re the most honest person I know.”
“I appreciate that. But I’m not sure it’s true. In fact, I know it isn’t.”
“Really? Who have you ever lied to?”
“The most important person.”
“Your wife?”
He shook his head. Despite her accusations to the contrary, he’d never deliberately told Gillian anything but the truth. His deceptions had gone much deeper than that.
“Myself.”
Hard to imagine a more glamorous life than being an accountant, isn’t it? Still, CJ Carmichael gave up the thrills of income tax forms and double entry bookkeeping when she sold her first book in 1998. She has now written more than twenty-five novels and strongly suggests you look elsewhere for financial planning advice.
Matthew’s Children
C.J. Carmichael
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
This book is for my youngest daughter, Tessa,
who is leaving home to start university this year.
I could not love you more, or be more proud.
Thanks To:
My writing friend and lawyer Elizabeth Aspinall,
Constable Chris Terry
and criminal lawyer Simon Lord
for taking the time to talk to me about
their areas of expertise.
Chapter One
IF JANE PRENTICE HAD SEEN Matthew Gray in the elevator, she would have taken the stairs. But as she stepped on board, she was reading case notes and didn’t spot him until the doors were gliding shut behind her.
“Hi, Jane.”
That voice. It still had the power to remind her she was a woman first. Lawyer second. She stuffed her papers into a side compartment of her briefcase, then looked at him. And away.
“Matt.”
An awkward pause followed. At least they weren’t alone. Two men in business suits flanked her, neither man familiar. When the elevator stopped at the twenty-eighth floor, only she and Matt stepped off.
“Going to the partners meeting?” Matt asked, as they headed in the same direction.
She nodded. Crap. Obviously, so was he. What was going on? Over the past year they’d become adept at avoiding each other. She’d requested an office on the opposite side of the building from his. By tacit agreement they’d begun attending alternate partners meetings. And she and Matt both avoided places they used to go together, like Sully’s Tavern and the deli downstairs.
Everyone at Brandstrom and Norton was in on it; even the managing partners no longer assigned them to the same cases.
A year ago the rumor had been everywhere. Matthew’s marriage is in trouble. And Jane’s the other woman…
“Russell dropped by my office this morning,” Matthew explained. “He made it pretty clear my presence was mandatory today.”
“I wonder why.”
“Some new case he wants me to work on.”
Jane sneaked a sideways glance at him. The year had taken its toll, adding some lines and a few gray hairs, but he was still handsome in that intellectual, Robert Downey, Jr, way of his.
“I was sorry to hear about you and Gillian.”
“Were you?”
She hadn’t expected him to challenge her, and wasn’t sure how to respond. A part of her was sorry, naturally. Matthew didn’t deserve what had happened. He was a good man, honorable in the old-fashioned sense of the word.
Yes, he’d spent too much time at work. Yes, he’d neglected his adolescent son and much younger daughter.
He wasn’t perfect.
But who was?
They rounded a corner, and the open door to the conference room was now in sight. Matt’s voice became coolly professional. “By the way, congratulations on the Laskin case.”
She could feel her cheeks grow hot. They may have avoided each other the past year, but he’d kept tabs on her. “I was lucky with the judge.”
“You’re too modest. The story in the Hartford Courant was pretty complimentary.”
The admiration in his voice was contained, yet unmistakable. She tried to meet his gaze again without losing her composure. But she couldn’t.
So she made her way into the room, where she headed for a vacant seat next to another of the junior partners at the firm. “Hi, Susan. How was your weekend?”
While Susan chatted about her three kids and husband, Jane organized her papers and located a pen.
“…and then Jeremy tells me it’s his turn to bring the morning snack for circle time! I had to leave Jack to handle breakfast and drive to the market to buy enough fresh fruit for twenty-five children. And when I get in the car, what happens? Jack’s run me low on gas again!”
Jane murmured a sympathetic comment, feeling anything but sorry for Susan’s predicament. Did her colleague have any idea how lucky she was? She and Jack had been married ten years and had three healthy children.
Finally, Jane found her pen amid the clutter at the bottom of her briefcase. She inhaled deeply and checked around the table. All the familiar faces calmed her. This was her family, and now that her father had moved to Texas, it was the only family in Hartford she had.
She’d been working at Brandstrom and Norton since she’d graduated from law school twelve years ago. Eve Brandstrom had hired her, and had become her mentor and close advisor.
Eve made a powerful ally. Some claimed she was too hard, too driven. But Jane had never found her so. Now she caught Eve’s eye and smiled.
I hope I look that good when I’m in my fifties.
Eve returned her smile, but her eyebrows were knit. When her eyes shifted in Matthew’s direction, her frown deepened.
Had Eve noticed them walk in together? That she might be keeping an eye on the two of them was more than a little discomfiting.
Eve, along with two junior lawyers from the firm, had been present at the restaurant last January when Jane and Matt had met for their disastrous, final lunch together. Eve’s party had been sitting at a different table, but in plain view.
All three of them had seen everything. The whole sordid scenario.
Jane wanted to believe that one of the other lawyers—and not Eve—had subsequently spread the rumors about her and Matt. But she couldn’t be sure. She and Eve had never talked about that day. Jane had hoped that eventually it might be forgotten.
The expression on Eve’s face told her it hadn’t. ALL THE USUAL SUSPECTS were in place as Matthew entered the conference room. Sensing Jane would prefer it, he headed to the other end of the table from her, putting as much distance between them as possible. Unfortunately, when he sat down he realized he’d selected a seat with a perfect view of her. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up staring at her throughout the meeting.
In an attempt to distract himself, he glanced around. The conference room was in the southwest corner of the twenty-eighth floor. Two walls were all windows; the other two were covered with paintings by New England artists. The room was impressive. The inlaid wood table was itself a work of art.
But he’d seen this room a hundred times before.
Whereas Jane he hadn’t seen in a year.
And now that he had, one thing was clear. She still hit him like a shot of caffeine—jolting him, making him feel more alive. How could she not? Besides being one of the most intelligent lawyers in the firm, she was also kind, compassionate, honest and decent.
Her attractiveness and beauty were all the more potent to him because of these other qualities. And it was precisely because of them—in particular the honesty—that he’d worked so hard to stay away from her.
That hadn’t been easy.
But to do otherwise wouldn’t have been fair to her. Rumors had buzzed around the office after the “lunch from hell”—as he tended to think of it. When he’d announced his divorce from Gillian, the gossip had started again. One of his coworkers had screwed up the courage to ask him, “Is this about Jane?”
“No,” he’d insisted, but his protestation hadn’t had much impact on the opinions at the office.
He’d wanted to protect Jane, but he hadn’t known how. The best he could do, it seemed, was keep his distance.
No doubt about it. This past year had been hell. For most of it he’d lived in an apartment full of rented furniture that he hated. He’d never felt more alone. His mother was busy with her new life in the seniors’ complex she’d moved to, and his two brothers were preoccupied with lives of their own.
His ex-wife considered him a cheating liar. And while his three-year-old daughter still loved him unconditionally, his adolescent son didn’t want anything to do with him.
On top of all that, he had lost his valued friendship with Jane.
“Coffee, Matthew?” Davis Norton was the oldest senior partner and the only surviving founder of the firm. He was approaching seventy and rarely took cases. Still, he never missed a partners meeting.
“Thank you.”
Davis filled a bone china cup with steady hands and passed it to Matthew, then returned the carafe to the sideboard and settled in his place at one end of the table.
Sitting at the other end of the rectangular table was Russell Fielding and, next to him, Eve Brandstrom.
Russell was one of those men who had finally grown into his looks in his fifties. With his steel-gray hair, strong jaw and broad shoulders, he had the sort of distinguished presence that juries loved.
Eve, also, had developed an air of distinction as she’d aged. Thick, dark hair framed a face grown more attractive with the sculpting hand of age. As she peered over stylish, turquoise glasses, her eyes were clear and sharp, as was her mind.
Although the firm bore her family’s name, Eve’s preeminent position here had little to do with nepotism. She’d never married and seemed to live for her job, having few outside interests. Since her father had passed away two years ago, she was determined to do his memory proud.
In addition to the three senior partners, there were six junior partners at Brandstrom and Norton, including Jane and Matthew. All were in attendance today. Each had nodded at him earlier, but not one would meet his eyes now.
Something was up.
Matthew felt a surge of adrenaline. Just what was this case Russell wanted him to handle?
He checked his BlackBerry. One minute before nine. Russell, who usually chaired these things, was a stickler about starting exactly on time.
Matthew’s gaze slid over to Jane. He just couldn’t stop himself. He noticed details he’d been too flustered to pay attention to in the elevator. She was wearing a black suit, impeccably tailored, and a slim-fitting shirt. The thin red stripes in her white shirt brought out the color in her lips and on her cheeks.
She wasn’t looking at him. Wasn’t looking at anyone in particular, really. She nodded when Davis offered her coffee, and when he’d finished pouring, she brought the cup to her lips with a steady hand.
Matthew gave her credit. She had to know everyone in the room had watched them walk in together. The curiosity in the air was almost palpable, yet she affected the utmost nonchalance.
As she set the cup back on the saucer, Matthew’s attention moved to the long, fine bones of her fingers. Her gold watch dangled on her elegant wrist. As if she could feel the spot where his gaze lingered, she pushed the watch higher on her forearm.
She looked around the room, let her gaze rest on his briefly, then carried on. Jane was one of few who had resisted the lure of the BlackBerry, and she set a pad of paper on the table and clicked her pen to release the nib. She was ready.
Russell cleared his throat. “Good morning, colleagues. I trust you all had a pleasant weekend. Before we discuss new business, we’ll go around the table with our usual updates.”
Though he hadn’t expected to be at this meeting, Matthew was prepared when it was his turn to speak. Most of his cases were minor, not worthy of discussion in this forum. But he’d be going to preliminary hearings on a manslaughter case next week. He summarized the facts, answered a few questions, then leaned back in his chair as the spotlight shifted to the coworker on his right.
Again Jane’s gaze sought him out. This time several seconds passed before she glanced away.
His heart was drumming so loudly he almost didn’t hear Russell as he proceeded to the next order of business—assigning new cases.
Two phrases leaped out at him, though.
“…sexual misconduct involving a minor…soccer coach…”
Matthew’s mind stopped wandering as he noticed everyone was looking at him again. Was this the case?
“I realize no one in the firm will be clamoring to handle this one.”
Russell had that right. Sexual misconduct involving a minor. You couldn’t get much uglier than that. Usually, such cases were assigned on a rotating basis. Who had handled the last one? Matthew knew it hadn’t been him.
“According to the schedule, this one is Jane’s.”
Matthew, like everyone else in the room, turned to her. Jane’s face paled, but she showed no other reaction.
“However, in this instance,” Russell continued, “our client has requested a specific lawyer. Matthew Gray.”
Matthew felt sucker punched. “Who is this guy? Did he give any reason for requesting me?”
“He’s the coach of your son’s soccer team. He says you met at the season start-up party for the Blazers.”
Matthew did his best to organize his thoughts. “You must be talking about Wally Keller.”
“That’s correct.”
“What, exactly, is Coach Keller alleged to have done?” Please let it have nothing to do with Derrick.
“The police are investigating him for sexual misconduct with the twin sister of one of the boys on the team.”
Matthew only knew of one guy on the team who had a twin sister. Right now, he couldn’t remember either of their names. “Do you have a name?”
“Sarah Boutin.”
His memory quickly provided him with an image of the girl. An outgoing blonde, tall and thin like her brother. Matthew recalled the boy’s name now; it was Robert. The Boutins lived in the same neighborhood as his ex-wife and kids. He had a dim recollection of Robert and Sarah coming over to play with Derrick when they were younger.
“Is she okay?”
“She’s at home with her mother, so physically she must be fine. But she has claimed sexual abuse, and medical examination has confirmed this. We don’t yet know the details of what transpired.”
Details. Matthew’s stomach turned. “And she said Coach Keller was responsible?”
“That’s right.”
He swore. “I don’t want anything to do with this case.”
“None of us does, Matt. But the client is asking for you. He told me you seemed like a decent guy and he wanted your help with this.”
Damn it. Why had Keller done that? Matthew would have been pleased to refer him to several excellent attorneys.
With all eyes on him, Matthew shook his head. “Isn’t it obvious I can’t do it? I have a conflict of interest. My son is on his soccer team.”
“That makes it a gray area, I agree. Which is why I’ve decided to put two lawyers on this one. You’ll be on the team primarily to hold Keller’s hand, walk him through this. You know how tough these cases can be.”
Hold his hand? Walk him through it? “I’m a pretty expensive babysitter.”
Everyone chuckled, including Russell, but the senior partner didn’t back down. “I have no doubt you’ll provide the client with good value. Besides, this is an excellent career opportunity for you. This case has the potential to be high-profile.”
“What if I’m not that ambitious?”
Again there was laughter. No one in the room considered it possible that he wasn’t joking.
Actually, one person didn’t laugh. Jane’s gaze met his, warm with sympathy, but also a hint of apprehension. Matthew thought he understood why.
As if he could read Matthew’s mind, Russell nodded. “You’ll be working with Jane on this one, Matt. That’s who I’ve decided should be lead lawyer.”
“But—” He and Jane objected at the same time.
Russell held up his hand. “I know the two of you haven’t worked together in a while. But we’re a small team here and that can’t go on forever. Eve and Davis agree with me.”
He said nothing more, and neither did Jane nor Matthew. But as soon as the meeting was over, Matthew intended to have a strongly worded chat with Russell. From the grim expression on Jane’s face, so did she.
Chapter Two
“THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE, Russell.” Jane sounded calm. The only sign betraying her agitation was the end-over-end rotation of her pen as she jabbed it again and again on a blank page of her notepad.
Matthew recognized the nervous habit from years of observing Jane in court. It was something she fell back on when she felt cornered.
The three of them were alone in the conference room now. The other partners had scattered at the official closing of the meeting. Jane and Matthew had moved to sit on either side of Russell.
“She’s right,” he said, hoping his composure was a match for hers. “We can’t work together.”
“Aren’t you being dramatic? A year has passed, guys. The divorce is behind you, Matt. We can’t do anything about that now.”
Russell made it sound so cut-and-dried. From a legal standpoint, Matthew supposed he was correct. But emotional wounds couldn’t be healed with a court document. A year had passed but they were all still hurting.
“Come on, Russell. You’ve made Jane the lead lawyer. She might as well handle the case on her own. I’ll just get in her way.”
“Wally Keller is scared, Matt. Can you imagine how it feels to be accused of something like this? What do you suppose he’ll tell his wife? His kids? He knows you and he trusts you. Can you blame him for wanting a familiar face on his team?”
Matthew paused, thinking about how Wally had gone out of his way to help his son at the beginning of the season. Unlike most of the other boys on the team, Derrick hadn’t started his adolescent growth spurt yet and was self-conscious about his size. At the team’s first practice, the coach proposed a strategy for dealing with the bigger boys on the field. His suggestions had given Derrick a whole new confidence in his abilities.
“If Matt has to be on the case, then let him handle it on his own,” Jane insisted. “Or assign another lead lawyer.”
“No one else has the time right now. And since your Laskin case wrapped up last week, Jane, you’re the obvious choice. Besides, it is your turn.”
She bowed her head, acknowledging the logic of his argument.
“Matt. Jane. Let’s be reasonable adults here. We can’t let a bunch of ugly rumors—and I have no doubt they were just rumors—destroy two excellent careers. Everyone remembers how well you two used to work together. Your skills complement each other, and I have every faith in your ability to provide Wally Keller the best defense this firm can offer.”
With that, Russell rose from his chair. He slid a file to the center of the table. “This is all I have so far. Mr. Keller is scheduled for an initial consult at one o’clock tomorrow. I’ve taken the liberty of booking the small conference room for your meeting.”
He left the room, diplomatically closing the door behind him. Matthew fixed his gaze on the folder. As he watched, Jane reached for it and pulled it across the table.
Their eyes met.
“I suppose Russ has a point,” Matthew began tentatively. “In a firm this size we can’t avoid each other forever.”
“Really? I thought we were getting damn good at it.”
He laughed. Then quickly sobered. “Not that I ever wanted to avoid you. I hate that you were stuck in the middle of my personal disaster.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“There are some who would disagree.”
“I can’t believe Gillian actually spied on you.” Jane clapped her hand to her mouth. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. But it’s just so wrong. You’re the most honest person I know.”
“I appreciate that. But I’m not sure it’s true.”
She gave him a doubtful glance. “Who have you ever lied to?”
Acknowledging the churning feelings inside himself, Matthew knew the answer. “The most important person.”
“Your wife?”
He shook his head. Despite Gillian’s accusations to the contrary, he’d never deliberately told her anything but the truth. His deceptions had gone much deeper.
“Myself.”
BEFORE SHE’D MET Matthew Gray, Jane had assumed that men like him didn’t exist anymore. Regardless of the progress women had made in the workforce over the past few decades, she still encountered sexism on a regular basis: biased judges, condescending prosecutors, and clients who thought only a man could handle the job. Jane had seen it all.
Matthew displayed none of those prejudices. From her first day at the firm, he’d treated her with the same respect he accorded all his colleagues.
His underlying gallantry had nothing to do with male dominance, but was simply a manifestation of his good manners and consideration.
It hadn’t taken long for him to become her favorite lawyer to work with at Brandstrom and Norton.
She’d always known he was married, and it had never occurred to her that that might cause any problems. Unlike some of her other married colleagues, he did not flirt with women, not even in so-called harmless ways.
Jane had felt perfectly safe putting in late hours with him, and had never expected that the real danger didn’t lie with him, but with her.
She still couldn’t pinpoint the moment she’d fallen in love with him. Maybe it was when she’d seen how tenderly he’d interviewed a scared young mother fighting for custody of her child. But it might just as easily have been as Jane watched him shred the testimony of a prosecutor’s star witness who’d traded away the freedom of Matthew’s client.
Now, as she tried to focus on the case notes in front of her, she wondered if it truly was possible for the two of them to work together again.
She cleared her throat. “So what do you know about this guy?”
Matthew seemed surprised, then amused. “That’s how you want to handle this? Straight to the business at hand?”
“Do we have another choice?”
“You could tell me what’s been going on in your life over the past twelve months.”
Through various internal channels he would have heard about the professional stuff. “You mean my personal life?”
“Well…yeah.”
Her cheeks turned hot. She was blushing. How ridiculous was that? His interest meant little. Matthew probably felt a measure of responsibility for her happiness. Not that he ought to, but he was that sort of man. Probably he wanted reassurance that her life hadn’t fallen apart the way his had.
And of course it hadn’t.
You needed to have a personal life in order for it to fall apart. And she didn’t. She hadn’t had a serious romantic relationship in years. The last one had ended so badly it had taken her over a year to recover. And then, just when she’d been ready to start dating again, she’d realized she was falling for Matthew, a married man.
Ever since, work had been her only safe outlet.
But she couldn’t tell him that.
She struggled to think of something to say. “I joined a health club last September.”
He laughed. “That’s your news?”
“Hey, it was a big step for me.”
“Do you ever go?”
“To use the sauna and the hot tub,” she confessed.
“I joined a health club, too.”
“The Executive Club downstairs?”
“Yes.”
“I thought I saw you there the other day.” She’d gone to unwind in the sauna after a grueling day in court. As she’d headed for the change rooms, she’d noticed Matthew running laps, his face so tense she’d ached for him.
“We’ll have to meet for a workout sometime.”
She nodded, assuming they wouldn’t. “How are your brothers?”
“Nick’s still busting his butt, hoping for that promotion to detective. And Gavin’s living the small-town dream in New Hampshire, with his new wife, Allison, and his daughter, Tory.”
Though she’d never met anyone in Matthew’s family, Matthew talked about them a lot. She had a soft spot for Gavin, who had lost his daughter Samantha, Tory’s twin, in a terrible accident about two years ago. “I heard that Gavin remarried. That’s good.”
“Yeah, it is. Allison’s been great for him. And for Tory. Even Mom likes her.”
“And how’s your mom? Is she handling the changes in your life okay?”
“She’s not happy about the divorce. But since she sold the house and moved into a condominium for seniors, she’s doing a lot better. She’s made friends and isn’t so anxious anymore.”
Matthew gave her a speculative look tinged with sympathy. “How’s your dad? Have you visited him lately?”
“Two Christmases ago.” Back in the days when she and Matt had worked together often, she’d confessed how ambivalent she felt about her dad’s second marriage. She was glad he was happy, but his life was so full now he didn’t have much time left for her.
Oh, boo-hoo, Jane. You’re an adult. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. She straightened her back. “So. Are we all caught up now? Can we finally discuss our case?”
Matt laughed ruefully. “Back to business, huh?”
“You said you met Coach Keller at a party for your son’s soccer team. So you know him quite well then.”
“Not really. This is the first year he’s coached Derrick’s team. It’s a volunteer position.”
She flipped a page in the file Russell had left for them. “The notes say Wally Keller is new to Hartford.”
“That’s right. His family moved from Maine for the start of the school year.”
“We’ll have to find out why.” Any hint of scandal behind the relocation wouldn’t bode well.
“Yes. He told me he was transferred through the accounting company where he works, but of course we’ll need to check that.”
They went through a list of discussion points regarding their new client. He’d been married fifteen years, had a son Derrick’s age and a younger daughter. His work history was solid, and he had no priors.
“He sounds like your average upstanding citizen,” Jane concluded at the end of half an hour.
“Let’s hope appearances aren’t deceiving.”
When they left the conference room, it was almost noon. In the old days they would have gone to the deli downstairs for a quick sandwich.
But times were different.
They stood in the hallway looking awkwardly at each other, before Jane finally broke away to catch the elevator. She thought Matt was watching her, but when she glanced back, he was gone.
He was probably planning to eat lunch in his office. That was what he seemed to do most days.
Down in the lobby she picked up a chef’s salad at the deli. But as she sat at a small table for two and tried to eat, her stomach refused to cooperate. She set down the plastic fork and gave up the effort.
Her career meant everything to her, and it hung in the balance. Russell Fielding had been tactful, yet he’d made it clear that this past year had put a strain not only on her and Matt, but on their coworkers, too.
For twelve months she’d been resisting the truth, but now she faced it. If she couldn’t get past this thing for Matthew, she would have to find another job.
AFTER THE MEETING with Jane, Matthew ordered a sandwich to be delivered to his desk. Work had been his sanctuary in the past, he certainly needed the escape today. He opened the top file from a stack and stared at lines of type that blurred into illegible scratching.
How did Jane feel about working with him again? Was any part of her, however small, happy at the prospect?
He was divorced now, so it wouldn’t be the same as before. He wouldn’t have to hide his admiration…or fight his attraction.
Yeah, right. Who was he kidding? After all he’d put her through, he was lucky she’d consented to work with him. Let alone anything more.
His phone rang. A client was in trouble. He’d been driving under the influence of alcohol when he’d had a traffic accident. His second that year.
Silently, Matthew swore at the stupidity of some people. “Here’s what you need to do…” he said.
Hours later, Matthew was talking to another client, this one in an even deeper mess, when he noticed the time. Ten minutes to seven. He scrolled down on his BlackBerry, then groaned. Derrick had a soccer game tonight, at seven-thirty.
In the past, Matthew had missed a lot of Derrick’s soccer games. But no longer. He’d vowed that this spring he would catch every game he possibly could.
He offered his client one last piece of advice, then scheduled a meeting for the following day. Quickly, he closed down his computer, then left the office. Derrick hated it when he came to the games dressed in his business attire, so he took the time to change at the Executive Club in the basement. That he might see Jane here crossed his mind, but he didn’t.
Finally, dressed in casual jeans and a sweater, he rode the elevator to the parking garage. Once he was behind the wheel of his Audi, he punched the address of the soccer field into the GPS.
Now that his son was in the league for older kids, he was expected to play all over Hartford. Matthew wasn’t familiar with most of the fields anymore, and the GPS had kept him from arriving late more than once.
As he drove past a burger joint, he realized he was starving. Hours had passed since that sandwich at noon. He longed to stop, but was afraid that if he did, he’d miss the opening kickoff. In the end, he arrived at the game five minutes early. The spring sky was cloudy, but rain didn’t appear imminent. As he headed for the bleachers, he spotted Gillian amid a group of other soccer moms. He settled on a bench as far away from her as possible.
He didn’t want his relationship with his ex-wife to be hostile—it wouldn’t be healthy for his kids. Yet he felt powerless to change things. Every conversation he tried to have with Gillian ended in an argument, with her making the same accusations and drawing the same—erroneous—conclusions as ever.
She hadn’t reacted to his arrival, yet he knew that somehow she had seen him. If ever he missed a game, she would be the first to call him on it.
His son’s team, the Blazers, was wearing blue-and-yellow uniforms. He searched for lucky number six, Derrick’s number, and spotted him goofing around with another kid, rough-housing on the sidelines.
Stuff like that never went on when Coach Keller was in charge, but of course Wally Keller wasn’t present today, and neither was his wife, Leslie. Andy Crosby, another of the soccer dads, was attempting to fill in. Judging by the flustered expression on his face as he jogged from one boy to another, giving instructions that were largely ignored, he wasn’t finding the job easy.
Coach Keller’s son, Daniel, was among the boys on the field, but Robert, Sarah Boutin’s brother, was absent. Matthew watched as Daniel, a large, athletic boy, took shots at the net. Matthew wondered if he’d been told what his father had been accused of. Did the other kids on the team know, too?
The referee blew his whistle and play began. The Blazers came out disorganized and weak, and five minutes into the game the opposing team scored. The team was hurting without their usual coach.
But something else was going on, Matthew realized. One of the Blazers’ midfielders went out of his way to jostle Daniel, who was playing center.
Well, that answered his question about how much the kids knew.
Poor Daniel.
By halftime the team was down two goals. The sun was low on the horizon and Matthew decided to use the short break in action to run to his car and grab his sunglasses.
To his discomfort, his ex-wife followed him.
Chapter Three
“HAVE YOU HEARD about Coach Keller?” Gillian asked. Her voice was stiff and censorious, as if somehow Matthew was to blame for the situation.
He slipped on his sunglasses. “Yeah, I have. Where’s Violet?”
“With a sitter.” Gillian sounded impatient. “Who told you about Keller?”
He wasn’t about to reveal that Wally Keller was now a client of the firm’s. “Who told you?” he countered.
“The soccer association sent out an e-mail. I didn’t see your address on the distribution list, though.” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“Maybe you could ask them to add it for me. I would appreciate receiving e-mails about Derrick’s team.”
“Fine.”
He guessed she would have argued if she’d had any basis to do so. But since she claimed to want him more involved with Derrick’s life, how could she?
“Have you heard how Sarah’s doing?” he said. “I noticed Robert wasn’t here.”
“Neither of the Boutin kids was at school today, according to Derrick. I heard they were receiving counseling.”
“That’s good.”
Gillian shook her head. “I still can’t believe this could happen in our neighborhood. We need to screen our coaches more thoroughly from now on. It makes me sick to think that I trusted Wally Keller.”
“Maybe Keller isn’t responsible for what happened to Sarah.”
Gillian rolled her eyes. “Innocent until proven guilty.”
She’d heard him say the phrase so often the words had no meaning to her. Matthew couldn’t blame her. Most people he met felt the same way. Maybe because not that many of them had ever been accused of a crime they hadn’t committed.
“Please don’t tell any of the other parents you think Sarah is lying.”
“I didn’t say I thought Sarah was lying, Gillian.” But…it was possible.
In the course of his career, Matthew had seen it happen often enough. Children who were hurt or scared sometimes lied or made up scenarios for reasons that adults didn’t always understand. While Sarah’s sexual abuse seemed irrefutable, he wouldn’t automatically condemn Wally of the crime.
And he certainly felt sympathy for the Keller family. Leslie and her children didn’t deserve the grief that this was bringing them.
He didn’t like to think that Wally deserved it, either.
AFTER THE GAME, Matt waited on the sidelines for an opportunity to speak to his son. The boys lined up to shake one another’s hands, then each team huddled around their coach for a postgame wrap-up.
Due to his smaller size, Derrick was easy to pick out in the crowd. He appeared despondent after the loss, and left the field with his head low.
“Nice effort.” Matthew clasped Derrick’s sweaty shoulder. He referenced a play late in the second half when Derrick had set up the center for a goal. “That was a beautiful pass.”
For a second his son’s eyes gleamed. Then he shrugged. “We still lost.”
Unfortunately, that one goal hadn’t been enough.
Matt bit back the platitudes. You can’t win them all wasn’t something he wanted to hear after a bad court case. Neither was There’s always the next one or At least you gave it your best.
The truth was losing sucked. “You must be tired. I noticed you were playing shorthanded.”
Derrick nodded. “Some of the guys are thinking of quitting the team.”
Matthew needed a second to figure out why. “Because of Coach Keller?”
Derrick nodded. “Now we have to find a new coach.”
“What about the father who filled in today?”
“He doesn’t know a thing about soccer. He just stepped in at the last minute so we wouldn’t have to forfeit the game.”
“Oh.” Matt slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Derrick shot him a quick look, then grabbed his soccer bag.
Silence stretched between them, and Matt realized that his son was waiting for something. Oh, cripes. Derrick wasn’t hoping Matthew would volunteer for the job, was he?
“I wish I could help, but my work is too unpredictable.” He was making most of the games, but no way could he handle practices, plus all the prep work in between.
“I know that.” Derrick sounded angry. “I didn’t ask you to, did I?” He swung his soccer bag over his shoulder and started toward Gillian’s car. His mother was sitting in the driver’s seat, waiting.
Matthew didn’t want the evening to end this way. “How about we grab a slushy? I’ll drop you off at home later.”
Derrick paused. He seemed tempted. But then he shook his head. “I’ve got an English assignment due tomorrow. I’d better go straight home.”
“Sure.” Matthew swallowed, but the hurt didn’t go anywhere. It stayed lodged in his throat, its favorite hangout.
He was being dissed, but he couldn’t blame Derrick. How many times had his son asked him for a little time, and Matthew had put him off because of work? It was such a cliché, the workaholic father, the needy son. Yet the pattern had been set and he didn’t know how to change it.
All he could do was keep trying. “Okay. Get your schoolwork done and I’ll see you on the weekend.”
“You mean next weekend, right? I’m at home this one.”
“Actually, no. Check the calendar, son. You were with your mom last weekend, so it’s my turn.”
“Fine.” Derrick nodded curtly, then upped his pace to a jog. Matthew watched him go, wishing he’d been able to give his son a hug. But there’d been no opportunity.
Or none that he could find.
“I CAN’T FREAKIN’ BELIEVE this.” Wally Keller had refused a chair, and was pacing the small meeting room. He had a broad face, stocky body and intelligent but now frightened-looking eyes.
An average dad, Matthew thought. In terrifying circumstances.
It was Tuesday afternoon, one o’clock. Jane had offered Wally Keller coffee at the beginning of their meeting, and when he’d refused, she’d poured a cup for herself. She was leaning against the sideboard now, mug in one hand, eyes trained warily on their new client.
Matthew didn’t blame her for being cautious. Keller was radiating tension and anger. Innocent people tended to behave that way when they were falsely accused of a crime. Unfortunately, guilty people often reacted the same way.
“You think you’re doing a good thing, coaching your kid’s soccer team. A lot of parents can’t be bothered. They drop their sons at the field, then drive off to run errands or go back to work.”
Matthew glanced down at his notebook. Guilty as charged. Not so much now, but in the past he’d definitely been one of the parents Wally Keller was describing.
“And this is my reward.” He stopped moving and gripped the back of a chair with enough strength to drain the blood from his knuckles.
For a moment Matthew trained his eyes on those hands. They were average-size for a man, but to a kid they would seem mighty intimidating. For a moment he found himself speculating. Was Keller guilty?
But that wasn’t a productive line of thought.
“This must be hard, Wally.” He and Jane had agreed that since Keller knew him, Matthew would lead the conversation.
He wanted to begin by offering a bit of hope. “Just because the police called you in for questioning doesn’t mean that charges will be laid.”
“God, I hope you’re right.”
“But we still have to be prepared,” Matthew continued. “We have a lot to cover. Why don’t you sit down.”
Wally hesitated, then nodded. Once he was seated, Jane took a place at the table, too. With a subtle nod in Matthew’s direction, she picked up her pen, indicating that she would keep notes, leaving him free to concentrate on the questions.
She’d always been able to anticipate where he was going in a way none of his other colleagues managed to. He smiled appreciatively then turned to Wally.
“We need to establish your relationship with Sarah Boutin.”
“There was no relationship!” Wally’s face reddened.
“Would you know her if you saw her?”
“Well, sure. Her twin brother plays for the Blazers. She used to watch all the games and often showed up at practices, too.”
“The practices?” That was unusual. Mostly, it was just the players who attended those. “Why?”
“She said girls’ soccer was boring and she liked working out with the boys better. I used to let her join in on some of the drills and exercises.”
“So you treated her just like the other kids on the team?”
“Well, not always. Sometimes she would follow me around and try to talk.”
“Did you have time to do that?” Jane seemed surprised.
“Not really. When you’re running a practice, you’re pretty busy. Setting up exercises, watching the kids, providing feedback.”
“What did Sarah like to talk about?” Matthew asked.
“I didn’t pay that much attention. Like I said, I couldn’t. But I do recall that she talked about her dad a lot. Her folks split up not that long ago. I gather her father left town. It was pretty obvious she missed having the old man around.”
Matthew nodded. At the preseason soccer party Sarah and Robert’s mother, Claudia Boutin, had cornered him. She’d told him that she, too, would soon be divorced. There had been a few awkward moments when he’d wondered if she was hitting on him.
He’d been rescued from potential embarrassment when Wally had asked for a volunteer to barbecue burgers. Matthew had practically raced out to the deck.
“It was pretty obvious the kid missed having her dad around,” Wally continued. “Frankly, she was disruptive, and I was often tempted to send her home, but I felt sorry for her and I didn’t.”
From his expression, he clearly regretted that decision. So did Matthew.
“Were you ever alone with her?”
“I’ve been thinking about that, and I can only think of one time.”
Damn. He’d been hoping there’d been no times. “What happened?”
“A thunderstorm brewed up during practice last week. I had the kids phone their parents to pick them up.”
Matthew remembered that night. Gillian had been busy with Violet’s gym class, so she’d phoned to see if he could get Derrick. He’d been at a meeting on the other side of the city, too far to reach the field on time. So he’d called Derrick and suggested he catch a ride with a neighbor.
“Did Sarah and Robert’s mother show up to get them?”
“No. I didn’t realize it, but Robert had accepted a ride home from a teammate who lived on the same block as the Boutins. I guess he forgot about his sister. When the storm hit, she was the only kid left on the field. The lightning seemed close. It was safer for the two of us to wait in my car. But her mother never did show up, and eventually, I drove Sarah home myself.”
Matthew glanced at Jane and saw the same dismay in her eyes that he was feeling. It was an emotion he did his best not to reveal as he asked, “How long were you and Sarah alone together?”
“Fifteen minutes, maybe twenty. If you count the drive home, half an hour.” Wally seemed to understand the potential danger in this, because he exploded with anger again. “What was I supposed to do? There was lightning, for God’s sake.”
“Where was the assistant coach?” Matthew wondered.
“Gone home.” Keller’s voice was little more than a growl. “He’d checked off all the boys’ names, so he decided he could leave.”
“Didn’t he realize Sarah was there?”
Keller shrugged. “You’ll have to ask him that. I sure as hell did.”
“Right.” Matthew got up from the table. “I’m going to grab a coffee. Changed your mind, Wally?”
The man hesitated, then nodded. Matthew left the room. This would give Jane an opportunity to question Wally without appearing to interrupt him. When he returned, Walter was in the middle of an answer.
“We were settling in okay before this happened.” He accepted the coffee with a faint thanks.
Good. She was filling in some of the background info. Matthew sat back in his chair and let Jane continue. She asked their client about his job and how the kids felt about the move. When she was done, Matthew had some more questions about Sarah. Over an hour passed before the meeting was finally concluded.
Together he and Jane escorted Keller to the elevator. Just before he got on, Wally turned to him.
“Thanks for helping me out, Matt. Three nights ago I met with the board of the soccer association. I could see the doubt on their faces when I told them I was resigning and why. Half of them have already decided that I’m guilty. But I’m not.” He stared Matthew straight in the eyes, his expression sincere and earnest.
Then the elevator arrived and he left.
“Do you believe him?” Jane asked quietly.
“Yeah. I think I do.”
Jane gave him a skeptical glance before sinking back against the paneled wall with only partly feigned exhaustion. “That was tough.”
Emotionally, yes, it had been. But Matthew’s adrenaline was flowing. He hadn’t felt so up for a new case in a long time. He didn’t kid himself why.
It was great working with Jane again.
“Want to go for a drink?”
She looked surprised, but her voice was collected. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“I’m not married anymore, Jane. I believe it’s allowed.”
Chapter Four
SULLY’S TAVERN WAS A HALF flight of stairs below street level, just off Bushnell Park, and though it was a favorite haunt of trial lawyers, Jane hadn’t been there for over a year. She felt Matthew’s hand at the small of her back as she descended into the familiar, dimly lit haven. Matt guided her to one of the booths and her black skirt slid smoothly over the leather seat.
The music playing in the background was too subtle for her to place. She glanced around. Fewer than half the seats around them were occupied. She tented her hands on the clean, cool tabletop and waited until Matt was seated, too.
“It’s so quiet,” she said.
“Yeah. It’s weird to be here on a Monday.”
In the past they’d frequented Sully’s at the end of the work week. A bunch of them would gather here from Brandstrom and Norton—not just the partners but all the lawyers, and some admin staff, too. On Fridays the tavern was packed, the music loud and raunchy.
“It feels like a different place.”
“Too quiet?” Matt half rose. “We could go somewhere else.”
“This is fine.” The truth was she would feel uncomfortable wherever they went, because she hadn’t been in a social situation with him for a very long time.
She’d avoided Sully’s this past year in order to avoid him. In her heart she knew the reasons for his divorce had nothing to do with her. Yet, her conscience demanded that she keep her distance while he was going through the process of ending his marriage. Just knowing how she felt about him—and that her feelings had the potential to become much deeper if she let them—had been reason enough.
A server came and they placed their orders. Jane’s emotions steadied now that she had a drink in her hands. She swirled the glass and watched the ice cubes jostle in the translucent amber liquid.
Sometimes, when she was playing dangerous “what-if” games with herself, she wondered what would have happened if she and Matt had met each other much earlier—before Gillian. Jane was pretty sure he found her attractive. And she knew he liked her. So was she crazy to believe they might have ended up together?
Yes. She had only to recall the two failed relationships in her past for her answer.
“You’re avoiding eye contact.” Matthew sounded amused.
She lifted her head, glad he couldn’t possibly be aware of what she’d been fantasizing about. She tried to keep meeting his gaze, but eventually, she had to blink. The blue of his eyes was such a piercing shade. “You should be a judge. You would be impossible to lie to.”
“Is that what you’re planning to do?”
She smiled. “No. But admit it. Being alone like this. It must seem as strange to you as it does to me.”
All amusement drained from his expression. “I don’t want it to feel that way, Jane. I want us to be able to work together. To be friends.”
She swallowed. It didn’t sound like much. Yet it was. “It’s difficult not to remember the last time we were…”
Matt’s expression turned grim. He finished her sentence for her. “The last time we were alone in a public place together?”
“Yes.”
“I’m so sorry about that, Jane. I can’t tell you how sorry.”
His regret was deeply sincere, and it only made her respect him more. The scene hadn’t been his fault. It hadn’t been either of their faults. On the afternoon of their fateful lunch together, they’d been discussing business, a case that was before the court, when Gillian Gray had found them.
Jane could still picture the surprise on Matthew’s face. The gallant way he had immediately stood, reaching for a third chair so his wife could join them.
In those first seconds he hadn’t noticed Gillian’s fury. But Jane had. Because it had been directed at her.
“What are you doing with my husband?”
Nothing, Jane had been about to say. But before she could utter a word, Gillian Gray had grabbed a goblet from the table and hurled the white wine it contained into Jane’s face.
She would never forget the shock. The intense humiliation.
“Madam.” A server had been at her elbow almost immediately, leading her to the women’s washroom.
Behind her, she’d heard Matthew speaking to his wife. “Are you crazy?”
Not the right words to appease. Gillian had raged at him; she’d really let him have it. At the door to the ladies’ room, Jane had paused, unable to stop listening until Gillian—finally out of foul words and insane accusations—turned on her heel and marched out of the restaurant.
From across the room Jane had met Matthew’s gaze. She’d seen the abject apology in his eyes before he’d raced after his wife.
All of that would have been terrible enough. But Eve Brandstrom and two other lawyers from the firm had witnessed the entire debacle. Jane still didn’t believe Eve had said anything to anyone else.
But the other lawyers hadn’t been so discreet, and soon the story was circulating Brandstrom and Norton. Jane couldn’t go anywhere without being confronted with the speculation and curiosity in her coworkers’ eyes.
She had reacted by keeping her mouth shut and avoiding Matthew as much as possible. Since he’d done the same, it wasn’t difficult.
Now she couldn’t believe she was across the table from him again. She still wasn’t sure this was wise. He might be an unmarried man legally, but he would never be “available” where she was concerned.
“I should have apologized at the time,” Matthew said. “But I was afraid it would only feed the gossip at the office if anyone saw me talking to you.”
“I understand. I imagine you had enough to handle at home.” Jane had heard about Gillian’s subsequent obsessive calls to the office. If she couldn’t reach her husband, she would yell at the poor receptionist. A few weeks later, word got out that Matthew had spent the night sleeping in his office, on the couch.
Soon after came the announcement that Matthew and Gillian Gray had separated.
A year later, the divorce became final.
And now that the marriage was at last over, Jane had to know the answer to the one question that had puzzled her for so long. “Why did Gillian think we were having an affair?”
Surely, in this day and age, his wife had expected some of Matthew’s colleagues to be female. Why assume the worst?
Was it possible that Gillian’s feminine intuition had sensed Jane’s attraction—an attraction Jane had worked so hard to stifle—and had reacted instinctively against it?
“By that point in our marriage, Gillian was on the lookout for things to fight about. She noticed your name on my BlackBerry a few times, heard us talking on the phone, and it raised her suspicions.”
“But why?”
“Things hadn’t been going well between us for years. Opposites may attract, Jane, but they shouldn’t always get married. Especially not when they want different things from life.”
“You and Gillian were opposites?”
“In many ways. She was a drama major when I met her, and I found that exotic at the time. But after a while her incredibly emotional nature became draining.”
“I know what you mean by emotional.”
“Gillian could turn almost anything into an argument. That, too, was draining. Gradually I began staying later and later at work. After Derrick was born and Gillian opted to be at home full-time our problem became worse. Without the creative release of her career Gillian grew more restless and unhappy.”
“Did you consider hiring a nanny?”
“I’d just talked Gillian into that when she unexpectedly became pregnant with Violet.”
An old pain surfaced, but Jane refused to focus on it. This wasn’t about her. “How about you? Did you want a second child?”
“Secretly, I was thrilled, but I couldn’t admit it to Gillian or she would have accused me of getting her pregnant on purpose—which wasn’t the case. At any rate, when Violet was born, Gillian loved her as much as she loved Derrick, of course. She just transferred all her anger and resentment to me.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “The fights got worse. I began avoiding home even more, which only made Gillian angrier.”
A sad story, especially when Jane considered the children and how confused they must have felt. Still, she was reassured to hear that the Grays’ marital problems went back so far. It relieved some of her guilt. Not all. But some.
“Gillian resented my long hours at work. At the same time, she pressured me for money for home renovations and a family vacation in Europe. I guess I took the easy way out, opting to spend more hours at the office rather than deal with her moods at home. I figured once I had my promotion to partnership life would get easier.”
“But it didn’t.”
He shook his head. “As you know, they only pile on more cases once you make partner.”
“That’s true. But you can set boundaries,” she added gently. She’d never heard of Matthew turning down a case or refusing to work on a weekend.
“Gillian had legitimate complaints,” Matthew acknowledged.
“Did you guys consider counseling?”
“I was willing. She wasn’t.”
Jane grimaced.
“It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for the kids.” He skated his glass over the slick surface of the table.
He kept a photograph of his son and daughter on his desk. Jane had noticed it this morning as she’d passed by his office on her way to the supply room, which she no longer avoided.
“How are Derrick and Violet doing now?”
“Violet’s fine. She’s young and the new situation hasn’t upset her routine very much, since she always sleeps in her own room. But Derrick’s pretty angry.”
“At you?”
“Yeah. He definitely views me as the culprit. He rolls his eyes every time I mention anything to do with work. I’m struggling to achieve a better balance in my life, but sometimes my efforts seem futile. Especially when my son makes it obvious he’d rather be with his mother.”
“Matt…” It wasn’t like him to be so negative.
“Sorry. We’ve been talking about this too long.” He leaned over the table. “What’s new with you?”
She hadn’t expected the conversation to turn so quickly. “I joined a health club,” she offered weakly.
“So you said. Anything else? Are you dating anyone?”
The question was thrown in as if meant very casually, but to Jane Matt’s eyes burned as he waited for her response.
“Not right now.” She met a lot of men in her line of work, so there were always opportunities for dating. None of the men she’d gone out with this year had held her interest, though. They all fell short compared with Matt.
The truth was there had never been a man who affected her the way Matthew did. Not even her first love, in university; or the man she’d almost married five years ago. Even now she felt like a nervous teenager on a date rather than a competent professional sharing a drink with a colleague.
“We haven’t discussed the case yet,” she realized.
“We aren’t here to discuss the case.”
“We aren’t?”
“No, Jane, I hope—”
He stopped talking when his BlackBerry buzzed loudly.
“I thought I’d switched this off,” he muttered as he reached for the thing.
Jane assumed that was what he was about to do now, but a glance at the number changed his mind.
“It’s my son,” he said, rising from his seat as he spoke. “I have to talk to him. Can you give me a minute?”
“Sure.” Her lips felt stiff, but she forced a smile, averting her gaze rather than watching him walk away from the table.
She couldn’t help but think back to that other time over a year ago. This interruption was far less dramatic, but it was an equally effective reminder that where Matthew Gray was concerned, she had to guard her emotions very carefully.
MATTHEW WOULD HAVE interrupted his conversation with Jane for only two people in the world. Since Violet was too young to use the phone, that left Derrick.
“Hey, son. What’s up?” He strode through the pub and out the door. Lingering by the stairs, he plugged his free ear to block the traffic noise.
“I’m calling about the game on Friday.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Don’t bother.”
“Pardon?”
“We still don’t have a coach.”
So none of the other parents had volunteered. As the silence stretched out between his son and him, Matthew tried to think of some way he could volunteer himself. But to commit to practices, as well as games, was more than he could manage.
Surely saying no was better than promising something he couldn’t deliver.
“I wish I could help you out, son. But—”
“Yeah. You have to work. I get it.”
He sounded so jaded. Matthew felt both defensive and guilty. “It costs a lot of money to send you to Mountain View Academy. And to buy you and your sister all the latest—”
“I said I got it, Dad. You probably don’t know enough about soccer to coach it, anyway.”
That was true, which only made him more frustrated. “I’m sure I could learn.”
“What’s the point? You’re too busy, remember?”
Matthew inhaled deeply. Reminded himself he was the adult here. “I’m sure you must be disappointed, but the soccer association will find you a new coach soon. Hopefully, one who actually understands the strategy behind the game.”
“Yeah. Right.” Clearly, Derrick wasn’t holding out any hopes.
Matthew longed to say something that would make his son feel better. But there was no quick fix to this situation. Not for any of them.
“I’ll phone the president of the soccer association and see what their plan is.”
“Don’t bother.” Derrick hung up, as miserable as he’d been at the beginning of the call.
Matthew was left with the knowledge that he’d disappointed his son yet again. He sighed, then pocketed the BlackBerry, this time making certain to turn it off first.
He met Jane on her way out and could barely contain his disappointment. “I thought we might have a second drink.”
“One was enough for me. And don’t worry. I covered the bill.”
Her gaze barely skimmed his face before she glanced away. Why was it so darn hard to get her to look him square in the eyes these days?
And he hated that she’d paid for their drinks.
He fell into step beside her as she headed back to the office. “This was supposed to be my treat. You know what that means?”
She raised her eyebrows questioningly.
“I pick up the tab next time.”
“Next time?”
“Damn right next time.” He let himself touch her elbow as they crossed the street. It was all he could do to let go of her once they reached the other side.
“Jane.” He stopped her before she entered the revolving door that led to the lobby of their building.
“Yes, Matt?”
Ever since his phone call she’d been so cool and distant. He wished he could make up the ground that had been lost.
“I’m glad we had this talk.”
Her expression softened. “Me, too.”
“And we will do it again. Right?”
She hesitated. “Maybe.”
And then she quickened her pace and disappeared into the building. He watched and wondered what she would have said if he’d told her the truth.
That Gillian thought they’d been having an affair because during one of their arguments he’d admitted that although he wasn’t having an affair with Jane, he was more than halfway to being in love with her.
Chapter Five
ON WEDNESDAY EVENINGS from seven to ten, Gillian taught drama at night school and Matthew went over to her house to take care of the kids. When he and Gillian had split up, Violet had been only two. Much too young, Gillian said, to be away from her mother at night. So while Derrick could spend every second weekend with his father, Matthew was able to see his daughter only on day visits.
The trouble with that was that he never could be the one who helped her with her pj’s, who tucked her in and sang her lullabies. Now she was almost too old for that, which only made the routine all the more precious to him.
Last summer, when Gillian had told him about the teaching opportunity, he’d jumped at the chance to look after the kids on that night. Now, every Wednesday, Matthew was able to be a part of his children’s everyday life. Exactly what he wanted—and missed—the most.
On this Wednesday, Matthew read three of Violet’s favorite books to her, then made her a snack of sliced apples and cheese.
Derrick was out with his friends. According to the note Gillian had left on the kitchen table, he was supposed to be home by eight to do homework. Matthew checked his watch. It was ten to now. He glanced out the front window.
Hurry home, Derrick. He was eager to see his son and discuss the soccer coach situation. He’d been talking his dilemma over with one of the young lawyers on staff, who was also a father with kids who played soccer. Tim had suggested he work out a team coaching arrangement with one of the other parents. That way, if work interfered with a particular game or practice, he’d have some backup.
Matthew wanted to ask his son what he thought about the idea. If Derrick seemed keen—hell, if he seemed mildly supportive—Matthew planned to start working his way through the team phone list to find a coaching partner.
“I’m s’posed to brush my teeth now.” Violet had finished her snack and was gazing up at him with her huge blue eyes.
He scooped her into his arms and carried her toward the bathroom.
“I can walk, Daddy. I’m a big girl.” She slithered from his arms and scampered ahead of him. Once there, he helped her to squeeze a tiny bit of paste on her princess toothbrush.
She set to work, brushing vigorously, while with her free hand she held on to his shirt as if to prevent him from going anywhere. He wished she didn’t have to worry, that she would know she could count on him being here whenever she needed him.
During those first months in his own apartment, after he’d moved out of the house he’d shared with his family for thirteen years, the hardest times had been coming home from the office. Every night he would open the door to silence. Only, in his mind, he would hear the sound of running footsteps and little voices calling out, “Daddy! Daddy’s home!”
Derrick had been beyond that stage by the time of the breakup, but not Violet. Matthew remembered setting down his briefcase so he could scoop her into his arms, and the giggles when he placed her on his shoulders and galloped around the dining-room table.
Gillian had claimed he was a workaholic, but there had been happy times, too. He wished that instead of letting his work drive a wedge between Gillian and him, she could have helped him understand how much he was missing.
But blaming Gillian for his obsession wasn’t fair. His father’s untimely death wasn’t responsible for his compulsive work ethic, either. According to his mother, he’d always been an A-type personality.
When he had a job to do, he felt like he was in a tunnel. He couldn’t focus on anything but the deadline in front of him.
His brother Gavin couldn’t understand. But then Gavin was one of those guys born to be a dad. Even though he, too, had a demanding job, as an architect, he’d had no trouble fitting in lots of time with his twin girls.
And Gavin’s life hadn’t been a picnic. First the mother of his girls had deserted them. Then, when the twins were in first grade, one had been killed in an accident on the street.
For the sake of the daughter he still had, Gavin had relocated his small family to New Hampshire, where he was now happily remarried.
Whenever Matthew was in a pinch with his kids, he always asked himself what Gavin would do. Now, as he settled Violet into her bed precisely at eight o’clock and Derrick still hadn’t shown up, he found himself once again wishing for his brother’s wisdom.
Violet had always been a sound sleeper, and her eyes were closed by the time he had her covered. “Sleep tight, sweetheart,” he whispered. He kissed her cheek, then left her room with the door ajar.
The view out the front window was disappointing. No sign of Derrick. He called his son’s cell phone—last year’s Christmas gift—only to be put through to messages.
“It’s after eight, Derrick. You should be home by now. Please call as soon as you get this.”
Matthew riffled through the newspaper, but he couldn’t concentrate. An ad for watches caught his eye. Wasn’t that the same brand Jane wore? He felt a rush of pure sexual desire as he pictured the gold band slipping up and down her slim, elegant wrist.
He imagined pressing a kiss to her wrist, then trailing his mouth along the length of her arm until he reached the delicate skin of her neck. Would she moan? Sigh? How did Jane react when she was aroused?
He stopped the fantasy before it could go further. He had no right thinking of her this way. No right to wish for anything more than the possibility that they could be colleagues again. Friends.
He located the remote control for the television and cruised through the channels, finding nothing that could hold his interest. Resisting the urge to phone Jane, he started to pace.
The door to Gillian’s bedroom was open, and as he walked by, he noticed a pair of men’s shoes on the floor.
He paused. It was none of his business. He knew Gillian had been dating. But was the guy also spending the night?
For Matthew not to go into the bedroom to look around took a lot of willpower. He was especially curious about the master bathroom. Would there be an extra toothbrush in the holder? A razor and some shaving gel?
He didn’t begrudge Gillian a sex life. But what impact would it have on the kids when their mother’s boyfriend showed up at the breakfast table? Violet was too young to think much about it, but Derrick would understand what was going on.
The last thing Matt wanted was to start a fight with Gillian. But he would ask her about this, he decided. Surely he had some rights as a father.
His concern about Gillian’s boyfriend faded, though, as another fifteen minutes went by and Derrick still wasn’t home.
There were some numbers by the phone, and he recognized the names of two of the boys on Derrick’s soccer team. He called both of them, but neither of the mothers who answered had seen Derrick this evening.
Hell. Now what?
Matthew was considering phoning Gavin, or even Nick, whose connections on the police force might be useful right about now, when finally the back door opened.
“Derrick.” Thank God.
His son kicked out of his runners, then headed for the fridge without saying a word, or even glancing in his direction.
Don’t jump to conclusions, Matthew counseled himself. It was what he imagined Gavin’s advice would be if he were here. Keeping his tone calm and reasonable, Matt pointed out to his son, “You were supposed to be home forty-five minutes ago. Did something happen?”
“I missed the bus.” Derrick poured himself a tall glass of juice.
“You missed the bus,” he repeated. Did Derrick know how lame that sounded? Or perhaps that was the point. “Maybe you should have showed up at the bus stop five minutes earlier.”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
Matthew couldn’t help it. His anger rose. “At the very least, you could have phoned.” He checked the impulse to say that he’d been worried, that he’d even been thinking about contacting the police.
“The batteries in my phone were dead.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” Derrick’s eyes met his and they were so full of defiance that Matthew knew he was lying. As if to prove it, his son’s cell phone let out a burst of music, signaling an incoming call.
The chime repeated four times. Derrick ignored it. He was still staring at Matthew as if daring him to do something. Options ran through Matthew’s head, most of them out of the question. He didn’t want his first words to be spoken in anger. He struggled for calm.
One. Two. Three.
“You were supposed to be home by eight, Derrick, and you weren’t. You don’t have a good reason, so there will be consequences.”
Derrick smirked.
Again Matthew had to rein in his temper. “You’re grounded for the rest of the week—and that includes no cell phone.” He held out his hand until his son passed it over. “Plus you won’t see any friends this weekend.”
His words hit their mark. The pressure on his chest eased as uncertainty flickered in Derrick’s eyes.
But a moment later, the arrogance was back. “Fine. Ground me. Mom won’t stop me from going out.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Matthew was so disappointed he was practically choking on it. He’d been thinking about the conversation he wanted to have with his son all evening, and none of this had been part of the script.
He cleared his throat. Tried to make a fresh start. “Now, about your soccer situation—”
“If you’re talking about the coach, don’t worry about it. Like you said, the soccer association found us a new one.”
Damn. Could nothing go right for him and Derrick tonight? “Good,” he said weakly. “I guess this means the game on Friday is a go.”
“I guess.” Taking the glass of juice with him, Derrick disappeared into his bedroom.
Matthew groaned with frustration, then picked up the newspaper one more time. He’d read through the business section and sports by the time Gillian arrived home.
She entered through the back door, too, and set down a bag stuffed with what looked like a batch of test papers. She’d taught drama between acting gigs before they were married, but she’d never really loved the work. It was something she did for the extra cash and to get out of the house.
She glanced around the kitchen, her eyes alighting on the plate he’d used for Violet’s snack.
Feeling as if she’d caught him out, Matthew grabbed the plate and stacked it in the dishwasher. “How was class?”
“Not bad. I’ve got a decent group this semester. Some of them even have talent.” She bent over to move Derrick’s sneakers out of the way. “Did Derrick finish his homework?”
Matthew felt his shoulders tense. “I’m not sure, but I doubt it. He wasn’t home until almost nine. He’s been in his room with the door closed since then.”
Gillian rolled her eyes, as if this was nothing new to her. “I wish you would talk to him.”
“I did. I told him he was grounded for the rest of the week.” He remembered the men’s shoes in her room. “By the way, is your boyfriend staying the night now?”
“What?”
“I saw a pair of men’s dress shoes in your bedroom—”
“You were in my bedroom?”
“I was walking past your bedroom.”
“Whose shoes are on my bedroom floor is none of your business, Matt. Or who is in my bed, for that matter.”
“When it comes to my kids—”
“This has nothing to do with Derrick or Violet.”
“I don’t want strange men spending the night.”
“Bruce doesn’t spend the night, okay? He’s a doctor and he works shifts, and sometimes he needs to shower and change after we’ve gone out.”
His ex was dating a doctor. That stopped Matt cold. Of course, he’d assumed that eventually Gillian would move on with her life. But what bothered him was that his kids had a new man—a permanent man—in their lives.
“How long have you been seeing him?”
“That’s not any of your business, either. I don’t ask you for an accounting of your dating life.”
“Well, maybe you should.” Matthew was about to elaborate, when Derrick walked into the room. As earlier, he headed for the fridge.
“Derrick. Your father tells me you were home late.”
“Yeah. He grounded me,” Derrick said, as if it were some kind of joke.
“I don’t understand why you find that so funny.”
Derrick just shrugged and looked at his mother. Then he grabbed a soda from the fridge and left again.
“That kid,” Matthew muttered. “You better watch that he sticks to the grounding I gave him.”
“Really, Matt. And how am I supposed to do that?”
“Tell him to come straight home after school, that’s how.”
“And when he shows up at six, saying he missed the bus? Or at seven because he had to stay late to work on a school project?”
Matthew wondered how long these problems had been going on. “I guess you’ll have to pick him up after school and drive him home.”
“That easy, huh? And what about Violet? Nursery school ends at three-thirty, the same time Derrick gets out of classes. How am I supposed to be in two places at once?”
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