Binding Arbitration (11 page)

One of the perks of being a lawyer is the perfected direct stare. If you don’t have it down by the end of the first year of law school, you’re destined to be a tax attorney. I directed mine on Aidan. “I met Fletch when I was representing Johnny Buck, who hooked up with that NBA rookie, Albertson, for some ‘Bloomingdale Bidness’.”

Aidan raised a brow in question.

“They were selling ‘exclusive’ merchandise out of the trunk of Albertson’s Mercedes for drug money. He’s as hard-headed and as pimply as the basketball he dribbled into the courtroom.”

“John Buck, the real estate investor’s son?”

“Generations of Bucks have skillfully bent and stretched the length of the law in Chi Town.”

“And you’re their lawyer.”

“Fletcher was Albertson’s attorney.” I answered. “After a confrontation in the ladies lounge, where Fletch cursed me out, I lambasted him with a few choice words of my own.”

Aidan chuckled under his breath. “That’s it?”

“No, he said, ‘any woman with a mouth like mine he wanted in his bed.’ And I told him where to shove it.”

“Are you involved with anyone on a personal level, or do you consort solely with your clients?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Everything you’ve done is my business. You have my son, and I want to know about your lives.”

“My private life has nothing to do with this transaction.”

“This is much more than a business transaction.” He took a fork full of lettuce. “How old was Cass when he walked?”

“Ten months. Why?”

“Tell me all about him.” Aidan smiled. “I meant what I said earlier. I’m sorry, and I intend to set this straight.”

“Aidan, this is a lot more complicated than saying a few I’m sorrys. I have to think about Cass’ feelings and his future. He has no idea who you are.”

Although, it wouldn’t hurt for Aidan to see Cass once, his curiosity would be quenched. I reconsidered. “I’ll let you meet him, but you need to consider the seriousness of his condition. I don’t want to do anything that would upset him.”

“I’ve thought of little else since I saw you. Every boy needs a father, and I want to be a real father to him.”

“But someone who’s playing at fatherhood out of a sense of guilt can do more damage than good.” What little food I’d been able to get down, rolled in my gut, threatening to come up. I brought a shaking glass of water to my mouth. “You haven’t had a lot of time to think this through. The hardest part of being a parent is doing what’s right for your child, even if it’s not easy on you. Maybe you’ll discover that letting him go will be the best for him. It might even be the best for you.”

“This is going to turn my life into a circus. Granted, it’s one of my own making, but I’m willing to pay the price of admission into the fun house. You don’t like the idea of having to deal with me. This time you can’t disappear. I know where you live, where you work, and I will track you down, if I need to.”

“I can deal with you. It’s all the other stuff. Be realistic. You’re a public figure. You’re contract negotiations are a feature story on TMZ. You’re personal life is fodder for Twitter and FaceBook. I don’t want Cass put on display. And I won’t permit anyone making him part of your byline. He’s a little boy who’s been sick for several months, and he wouldn’t understand the sudden media glare.”

“People are going to find out as soon as they see us together. For crying out loud, he looks exactly like me. My mother said that, first thing.”

“Your mother?” I gulped.

“I showed them the photo you gave me. They offered to be tested. They want to get to know their only grandchild, too.”

“Why did you have to tell your parents? You didn’t even know if I would let you see him!”

“I knew you’d be sensible enough to give me what I want, since I am more than willing to give you what you want.”

“Cass thinks you’re dead,” I blurted out, keeping my eyes focused on the table.

“What?” The angry furrow in his forehead pinched.

I had seen him do that on the evening news, and once in the middle of a game, when he got a questionable call from a crusty umpire. Maybe the ump deserved it; I didn’t.

“Don’t you dare preach to me. As far as I was concerned, you were dead and buried. I would’ve never seen you again, and you would’ve never known anything about us, if Cass hadn’t gotten sick. I’m already sorry I brought you into this.”

His voice strained, deeper as he spoke in clipped tones. “Whether you like it or not, I’m going to know my son. You need to find a way to resurrect me immediately.”

“You would garner more cooperation, if you learned to ask me rather than demand.” I moved before he had a chance to put his talons on my skirt. “Don’t call me, I’ll call you.” I pulled out a few bills and dropped them on the table before making my way through the dining room.

But apparently, Aidan still had the ability to silently stalk his prey. I didn’t know the vulture was hunting, until the elevator chimed open and he circled in right on top of me. He held the doors open for two older ladies already on board. He smiled at them all charm, before saying, “Ladies, would you mind letting us ride downstairs alone? I need to flesh a few words out with this gorgeous gal, and they might not be something you could stand hearing.”

“Aren’t you that baseball fellow from the Cubs?” The lady with the blue-grey hair cackled.

“Yes, I am.”

Both of the ladies eyed me. I prayed they wouldn’t leave me alone with the human time bomb. They shuffled off. “You aren’t going to hit her are you? Cause you look madder than Hell.”

The other cawed, “It takes two flints to strike a fire.”

“I won’t hit her. You have my word.”

“I saw you in
People
magazine with that tramp Vanessa Vanderhose.” The other old lady spoke. “My first husband liked hussies like her. Couldn’t tell a good woman when he saw one.”

He flinched. “I’ll take that under advisement.”

The blue-grey haired lady leaned on her cane heavily. “You scratch the other cheek if he gets fresh.”

She continued to mutter other oaths at him as the elevator doors slid shut. He stood next to me in the elevator like a granite image with his arms crossed across his taut torso. I could feel his angry reflection radiating off the polished door as it shut. I would have jumped out behind the little old ladies if I thought he would let me get away. I counted seven seconds before he pushed the emergency stop button, and we came to a jolting halt.

9

LEAVE THE GENTLEMENS AGREEMENTS ON THE FIELD

All I want is my case to be heard before an impractical decision-maker. Pete Rose

Aidan 8:07 p.m.

“Elizabeth Tucker, rule number six.” I closed the gap between us in the jolting elevator. “You do not walk away from me, when I’m not done with you."

“Aidan Palowski, I will walk away any time I damn well please. You taught me how.”

“Fine,” I grimaced. “If you’re doing whatever you want, then I’ll do as I please.” I caged her in the corner, searching her eyes, and when she didn’t submit, my lips, of their own volition, descended. In reflex, I claimed her, my lips branding us together like tobacco to the inside of a bottom lip.

The kiss was gentle only for a second, before I parted her lips, and took her tongue. A soft cry whimpered in her throat. My arms wrapped around her, pulling her against me with force. When I sensed her surrender, I drew her bottom lip between my teeth and nibbled, much tastier than nicotine, but just as addictive. I struggled to pull away. “You curse at me, walk away from me, or do anything to irritate me, and I’ll do this again,” I whispered. “You’d better believe I’m going to take it a little further every time.”

My angry tirade had turned into a seduction. I couldn’t think straight, my lips tingled, and Libby was shaking.

“Now, I’m going to let you go. If you don’t want to end up flat on your back on this elevator floor, you’ll behave.” She didn’t respond and I squeezed her hip.
How had my hands gotten there?
“I’m going to be a gentleman, and take you home.”

I stared, hypnotized by her blazing green eyes. I took my time untangling her body from mine. I set the elevator on its way and straightened my jacket, as the car descended. I handed her a handkerchief from my pants pocket. “Your lipstick’s everywhere.”

“Seriously, a handkerchief.” She took the square of monogrammed linen reluctantly, and dabbed at her swollen lips. “I don’t like you, Palowski.”

I smiled, like a boy who got caught with tobacco stained fingers in a no smoking zone. “I know, babe, I know.”

After all this time, after all of the other women, I was stalking the one girl I forbid myself to think about. I tried in earnest to recall one other beautiful face, but all I could see was Libby’s soft features and swollen lips. The scent of her, in the confined space, throttled my sanity.

I held the elevator door open. “Let me call for my car.”

“I’m going outside for some fresh air.”

“Trying to ditch me?”

“The thought had crossed my mind.”

“You can run, but you can’t hide. Not anymore.”

“Oh right.” She crossed her arms, fending off the chill. “You’re the one who runs away. How silly of me to forget.”

“I wasn’t ready to grow up then, but that doesn’t mean I’m not a grown man now.” I took off my sports coat and draped it over her trench, holding onto the lapels as it brushed the top of her knees. “I know you’ve never screwed up, but you have to realize: the longer I let it go, the harder it was to face you.”

The wind lashed around the corner, ripping strands of her hair out of their knot and swiping them across her angry face in violent torrents.

I continued: “Do you think it’s easy to face you, when you’ve made such a success of yourself? With a kid on your own, and all I have to show for myself is wins and losses in a record book somewhere?” The smell of fall swept off the lake, hinting at the frosty weather that would soon lock us up until spring training. But when I examined her from head to toe, I closed my eyes, warming unexpectedly.

David pulled up in front of the hotel and exited the car. He pulled his cap down, as he opened the door. I ushered Libby toward it. She halted, resting her hand on the door frame, and met David’s downward gaze. “I know you.” She paused for a moment more. “You’re one of the bad baseball boys.”

David cringed. “Where you always this hot?”

“Yes, but my I.Q. excluded me from your dating pool.”

“Little Libby can still dish it out.” David chimed in before she could finish.

“I hope you drive—-She glared giving the limo a once over—-“better than you grovel.” Libby slipped into the backseat.

As I started to sit down, David muttered. “Hot damn, Palowski, maybe you do know how to judge raw talent.”

Taking advice from the guy who was benched for academic under achievement?
The ump saluted me in the rearview mirror.

Libby removed her glasses and cleaned them on the hem of her pencil skirt. When she stared over the top of the black horn-rimmed spectacles, her vibrant eyes challenged me to learn what was going on inside that pretty head of hers, even more than her evasive answers.

“Drop me at the L,” she ordered.

“I would rather take you to my car and then take you home.”

“Whatever.” She positioned her briefcase between us before she started twirling a strand of her hair around her finger.

David slid the glass up, leaving us in a silent cocoon. I rested my hand alongside hers on her briefcase, brushing it. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to graduate? We spent a lot of time together.”

“You saw me at the library with a book bag.” A ragged breath slipped past her lips. “You should have figured it out. Ours was a secret dalliance, which didn’t require truths or obligations. The imaginary universe existed only in our minds.”

My thumb brushed the back of her hand, hoping to get her to look at me, see me. “You think I pursued you a year and a half just to get you into bed?”

“I think you were Romeo chasing after Juliet until you’d invested too much time to give up empty-handed. But I wasn’t some pitching record you could capture, and then sit on in glory. I was a person with thoughts and dreams that weren’t an extension of yours. That was the error between us—you were focused on a goal, and I had my heart set on dreams.”

“You could’ve told me.” I rubbed her chilled hand, letting the electricity course through me. “What was your dream then?”

“Harvard law,” she sighed. “I lost it the day Cass was conceived. It seemed so important, but it hardly matters now.”

That wasn’t the dream I’d anticipated her having, but somehow it was more important. “You were going to Harvard?”

“I planned on it, but I was wait-listed, by the time I got in, I knew I couldn’t go to the east coast with a newborn.”

“You gave it up, so you could keep the baby?”

“Yeah, I didn’t have enough of your single-minded determination. You were going to the majors. Nothing was getting in your way. I’ve never seen anyone more determined on a path that he pays no heed to anything else.”

Just when I started to feel complimented she cleared her throat and continued.

“At first, I respected you for it.” She replaced her glasses but wouldn’t look at me. “Then I hated you for it.”

“I never disregarded you.” I sighed. “After I found out I was going to the majors, I begged you to come with me.”

“In exchange for aborting my child.” She turned and glared at me. “Is that what you’re still angry about? That I didn’t choose to follow you around and forfeit my child’s life?”

“Up until I received those papers, I assumed you would’ve hunted me down and insisted on my financial help. It’s what most girls would have done”

“I’m not most girls. I’m the product of forced affection between parents who could barely stand each other.”

“I didn’t know where you came from or how that would have any bearing on your decisions. But that’s not all my fault. I always listened to you, Libby.”

“I did what I had to do. You did what you wanted. Nothing can change that.” She brushed her fingertips across her brow.