Deception (12 page)

"I love you, Mom. I plan to stop by tomorrow. Have a good night's rest."

He taps Drew on the shoulder. "Take it easy. I'll catch up with you later. Call me if you should need anything." Drew stands and hugs him, and it makes me happy to see the two of them getting along so nicely. They got along really well when we were kids. They would always go fishing, and even to parties,while Travis and I were together. Drew never really created that bond with Ric
h—
they never seemed to be on the same page. This is refreshing.

"I'll see you out," I say, taking Travis' hand and walking out of the room. I rest my head on his shoulder when we reach the front door, not wanting to let go of him. "I wish you didn't have to go," I say, pouting.

He sighs. "I know. I have to go into work tonight after I pick her up too. We’re hosting a wedding tomorrow, and they want to decorate tonight. You could come with me."

"I really need to get a few things from my house. And I want to stay a bit with my mom after the afternoon she's had."

"It’s okay, I understand."

"Thank you for everything today. You've made my mom so happy. I can't explain to you what that means to me," I say, stretching up on my toes and kissing him.

"You mean so much to me, Sweets. And your mom means a lot to me as well. I know that seeing her this way is difficult, but we'll get through it together." He shakes his head and looks me in the eyes with so much passion. "I adore you so much."

I tighten my arms around him. "I…I adore you too," I say, trying to choose my words wisely. I really want to tell him that I love him, but I'm scared that it may be too soon. It may even push him away, so I decide to keep that bit of information to myself for now. But, boy do I love this guy.

He plants a soft kiss on my lips and then pulls away, scanning his eyes down my body. He shakes his head. "Hmm, that dress," he says, grinning. "I really have to go. That dress is dangerous," he adds, opening the front door.

I smile. "I'll make a note of that."

Once he leaves, I go in to see my mom. "It's nice having him around again," Drew says.

"Yeah. I've been enjoying it a lot."

"He's such a sweet guy," my mom remarks endearingly.

"I'm happy for you, Amy," Drew adds.

"Thanks."

I tell them that I’m going to get some more things from my house, and that I'll be back shortly. The moment I get into my car, my phone dings. It's a text from Travis:
I've figured out that it's not so much the dress that's dangerous, but it's those incredible legs.

I grin. I love that boy.

Chapter Twelve

Tuesday

April 30, 2013

1:42 p.m.

I tap Matthew on the shoulder. "You did great today. You nailed that opening statement. I couldn't have done a better job even if I tried. You’ve got this."

"Thanks, Amy. I hope you're right."

"You know my record of predictions. Trust me, you got this one. I'm proud of you," I say, hugging him.

For the past seven years I've predicted how the trial will go after the first day in court, and I've only been wrong twice. This case is Matthew's first big one as lead council. I've mentored him for the past three years. He's even become like my little brother in some ways. I was hesitant to put him as lead council, but after what I witnessed I'm certain that I made the right choice.

"I learn from the best," he says, shooting me a grin.

We pack up and meander out of the courtroom. "Attorney Silver," a woman calls out. I stop and scan the hallway to find a tall, blonde woman rushing in my direction. She looks like a reporter.

"Walk faster and don't look in her direction. Just walk toward the door," I advise Matthew.

"Attorney Silver," the woman calls again. "Excuse me, Amy, can I have a moment of your time?" I don't look in her direction but her voice gets closer. Suddenly, I feel a hand on my arm.

"Sorry, we don't do interviews," I say, continuing to make my way to the doors, without looking at her.

"No, I'm not a reporter. I'm from the School of Law at the University of San Francisco, and I would like a moment of your time."
USF? What would they want with me?
I stop and turn to her. Matthew waits for me.

"What can I help you with?"

"Hi, I'm Lisa Brighton and I'm the head of the faculty in the School of Law at the University. I'd love to have a moment to talk to you about a potential teaching position."

"Sorry, I don't teach."

"I know you don't have experience teaching in the classroom. But we've been following your cases closely with our students, and the faculty and I all agree that you’d be a great addition to our team. We'd like the opportunity to sit down and speak with you about it."

"Well, I’ve never thought about teaching. If you want to leave me your card, I could call you at some point if it's something I think I'd be interested in."

"That would be wonderful," she says, reaching into her pocket and handing me her business card. "We have a professor that teaches criminal law who’s retiring next month, so please do call. I think we could offer you something reasonable."

"Thank you," I say, shaking her hand before turning and walking out.

"Teaching, huh?" Matthew says, intrigued.

"Yeah. Not sure why they think I'd be good at teaching," I say, chuckling.

"It's evident you know what you're talking about. And they'd be lucky to have such a successful lawyer on their faculty. I don't blame them for wanting you."

"Or, maybe it's as the saying goes, ‘Those who can, do. Those who can't, teach’?"

Matthew slaps me on the arm. "You know better than that."

"Ouch," I say, pushing him.

We arrive back at the firm, and Matthew gets the rock star treatment. The other attorneys already caught word about his great day in court. Going over to Julie, I see a huge bouquet of pink roses sitting on her desk. "Is it your anniversary?"

"Hi, Amy. No, those aren't my flowers. Those were delivered for you. And they came with this." She hands me a large manila envelope. "We’re dying to find out who they’re from.”

A card accompanies the flowers, so I open it to read:
Thank you,
and it's signed,
From Rich

"You can keep them. They look great on your desk," I answer back, laying the card down and strolling to my office.

"What? Why? Who are they from?"

"Rich," I shoot over my shoulder.

"Oh no. I don't want them," she says, exasperated.

Sitting down, I’m curious as to what kind of surprise he's presented me with in the envelop
e—
possibly another ridiculous contract? Or maybe it's an admittance of how big of a douche bag he is. I open it and take out a folded piece of paper that reads:

Amy,

I can't express to you how grateful I am that you allowed me to keep my firm. This is proof that I seriously don't deserve you.

Thank you,

Rich

I notice something else in the envelope. Reaching in, I take out a smaller envelope with,
Ames,
written on the top, and hearts drawn all over it. It's my mom's letter that she gave to me on my birthday. The envelope has been opened and resealed with tape. I shake my head. Opening it up, I read the letter on the top:

My sweet Ames,

I recently came across some information that I think you should be made aware of. Before you read the attached, please know that I love you so much and that’s the reason that I've decided to tell you. After you read this, please call me so that we can talk. I have more details that I think will help to explain.

You will always be my sunshine,

Mom

I force a smile. I'm going to miss her. Flipping to the next page, I see it's a letter from my dad to Rich, on the law firm's letterhead. I scan through it and notice that it's the same letter that I've already read. But the second page is the official contract that Rich agreed to, something I haven’t seen yet:

Official Contract

Mr. Richard Driscoll, known as "First Party," agrees to enter into this joint contract with Warren Silver Law Associates in San Francisco California and Reynard Enterprises in Cambridge, England, known as "Second Party" on June 10, 2011.

Invalidity or unenforceability of one or more provisions of this agreement shall not affect any other provision of this agreement. This agreement is subject to the laws and regulations of the state of California.

This agreement is based on the following provisions:

Mr. Richard Driscoll agrees to spend the sum of $5 Million Dollars (to be wired) over the next five years in gifts and vacations to be presented to Amy Silver on her birthday and other occasions at his reasonable discretion, to include but not be limited to the following. In return Reynard Enterprises agrees to continue business connections with Mr. Richard Driscoll.

I glance down the page, starting to feel nauseated. There are well over thirty―or maybe even fifty―bullet points. I don't even want to put myself through the displeasure of reading it. Did my dad really do this? And Rich signed this? What the hell. This is sickening, and downright unheard of.

Grabbing the contract, I scurry over to the shredder. I watch it as it turns into tiny strands of paper, making this ridiculous agreement now a distant memory. It's evident that Rich is a jerk, but what man does this to his daughter? I will never be able to see it in a positive way like my mom has tried to convince me.

I saunter back to my desk and fish into my purse for my phone, wanting to text Travis to see how his day is going. Reaching into my bag, I accidentally grab the business card from
Lisa Brighton, Esq.
Staring at it, I wonder what they have to offer and if I even want to teach. It's not something I've ever thought about. Flipping the card through my fingers, I lean back in the chair.

After a few minutes, I break myself from thought and decide to text my sister to see how my mom is doing instead.

Me:
How's mom?

Marla:
She's resting. She was able to eat some soup for lunch and has been able to hold it down so far.

Me:
Good. I should be home in an hour or so. Do you need me to pick anything up on the way?

Marla:
No. We're good. Maybe coffee would be nice though.

Me:
Sure thing.

I text my handsome boyfriend to see what he's doing.

Me:
Hey there, sexy!

My handsome boyfriend:
Hey there, beautiful! I was just thinking about you. Of course, had you written me any other time, I would have been doing the very same thing.
☺
How was court?

Me:
You know just what to say to a girl.
☺
Court was really good. Matthew hit it right out of the park.

My handsome boyfriend:
When are you coming home?

Me:
Home?
Do you mean my mom's house? I should be leaving work in an hour or so. Can you come by today?

My handsome boyfriend:
I'm already here.

Wait, he's at my mom’s?

Me:
What are you doing there?

My handsome boyfriend:
Just visiting, keeping her company.

Me:
You’re by far the sweetest man to ever walk this planet. What have I done to deserve you?

My handsome―and incredibly sweet―boyfriend:
You’re the one that told me this had nothing to do with luck, it is all fate. You and I were always meant to be, baby. Now get your incredibly sexy ass over here so I can smother you with kisses.

Me (giddy):
Since you put it that way, I’m leaving right now!

I turn off my computer. While reaching for my bag, the business card sitting on my desk grabs my attention. A part of me is curious to see what they have to offer. I never thought about teaching, but who knows, it might be what I need to spike my motivation again. Taking hold of my phone, I dial the number.

Chapter Thirteen

Friday

May 3, 2013

2:41 p.m.

I've spent the last few days engrossed in the case. And today was especially difficult since our client took the stand. Listening to her speak about the night that changed her life forever―how the boy, who sat at the table beside us, had not only taken her virginity unwillingly, but had robbed her of being able to trust any other guy again―sent uncomfortable chills right down the center of my back. I rarely let cases get to me, but when we’re representing a fifteen-year-old who has to recount details of being viciously raped, my body has a mind of its own. It's hard to separate yourself from it. And then I look over at the sixteen-year-old boy who did it to he
r—
who has been left partially brain dead from her fight back with a tire iro
n—
and it makes me want to cry for them all. I know I shouldn't want to cry for a boy who raped a girl―he got what he deserved―but it doesn't make me want to cry any less. Either practicing law is getting the best of me, or something inside of me is changing because I’m becoming more and more troubled by my clients' stories. I usedto disconnect myself from the
m—
especially in court. Maybe it's that I'm sitting second chair in this case and I'm able to listen more intently to the testimony. I don't know. But it feels different today. It feels sad.

"Good job," I say, patting Matthew on the shoulder. "You had a good week."

"Thanks. Let's hope we can wrap this up next week."

"Yeah."

We leave the courthouse and head back to the firm. I gather my messages from Julie, and slump down in my chair, spinning it around and around while staring into space. I have to snap out of this, it's so unlike me that I don't know how to respond to it. I need some cheering up and there is only one person that can do that for me right now, so I text Travis.

Me:
Hi

Travis:
Hi there, beautiful girl. What are you up to?

Me:
At work. Rough day in court. Needing some cheering up.

Travis:
Everything okay? Want to call me?

Me:
I’d rather see you. Seeing you would cheer me up. Where are you?

Travis:
At work. Can you leave work and come?

It is Friday, my day in court is over, the messages and emails can wait until Monday, and my aunt and sister are staying with my mom today. Nothing is standing in my way of going to see him. I could use a slice of the Love Shack right now.

Me:
Yes, and yes. I'm coming to you.

I gather my things and tell Julie to head home. Laura walks out of her office as I’m leaving. "Hey, I haven't seen you all week. How are things going?"

"Good. It's been busy here this week. We took on two new cases, and they should be good ones."

"That's great. How's everything besides work?"              

She shrugs. "Good, I suppose." It appears like she wants to say something more, but decides not to. I'm sure her sister has made her life interesting in ways I have no desire to know.

"Good. Well, have a good weekend. Call me sometime so we can chat. I miss you," I say, hugging her. Since telling me about her sister and Rich, she's been distant. I imagine it must be difficult for her. I hope she knows that I still consider her a good friend, regardless of what happened.

Under an hour later, I walk into the Love Shack and a sense of relief washes over me. I never imagined a place―a bar none-the-less―could do this to me. Seeing my boyfriend talking with customers at the bar, I wander over. He's too busy talking to see me, so I sit a stool at the end of the bar, admiring the man before me. This is certainly what the doctor ordered to get me out of my slump. His laugh alone is the right medicine.

The bartender greets me, placing a napkin in front of me. "What can I get you, ma'am?"

"A red raspberry martini with Chambord, please.” Travis instantly turns his head in my direction, his eyes meeting mine. A beautiful smile plasters his face, and it sends my heart racing around the track of the Daytona 500. He quickly ends his conversation with the customers. "I got this," he tells the bartender.

He prepares my drink, while holding his gaze on mine the entire time, looking away long enough to pour the martini into the glass. He grabs a bottle of beer from the cooler, and walks to me with our drinks in hand. Making his way around the bar, he cocks an eyebrow and tilts his head, motioning for me to follow him. I oblige without hesitation. His gaze is mesmerizing. I'd follow him to the ends of the earth.

He leads us to my table on the patio. After setting our drinks down, he quickly turns to me, wrapping his arms around me. "I missed you," he whispers, brushing his lips against mine. I breathe him in and kiss him passionately.

"Aren't I the lucky girl to be kissing the boss," I remark, slowly pulling away.

He smiles. "That's how we treat all of our VIP guests here at the Love Shack," he says, with a sly grin. I laugh.

"I don't even know the story behind why you called this place the Love Shack."

"Well, I’m hoping you don’t want some grand love story because it's quite a boring reason. That was the name of the place before I bought it. I didn't change it because a lot of the residents in the area seemed to like it. I also wanted to continue hosting weddings out on the beach, like the previous owner did, so I thought it was appropriate. Sorry. Boring story, I know."              

"It may be a boring reason, but listening to you tell it is just as satisfying," I say, reaching up and kissing him again.

"Maybe I could change my story now though."

"What?" I ask, not following.

"I could say that the reason it's called the Love Shack is because this is the place I reunited with the love of my life," he responds, tilting an eye up and grinning. Wait a minute, did he just say he loved me without actually saying the three official words? I mean, is saying you're the love of my life, the same as saying I love you? I don't know, but it sounds nice coming from him.

"I love that story much more.”

Pressing his lips to mine, consuming my mouth, I melt in his arms.

He pulls my chair out. "Court wasn't good today?"

"The case is going goo
d—
really good. But I had a tough time listening to my client on the stand. This case is really affecting me personally, for some reason."

"Given the case, I can see why. You’re only human for having an emotional response to it."

"I suppose you're right, but I've never reacted like this before," I say, dragging his chair close to mine and grabbing his hand. "I'm feeling better now, though."

"I'm really glad you’re here. I actually have to be somewhere at four-thirty, and I would love for you to come with me." I look at him, squinting. He winks in return.

"Where are we going?"

"I have to go see something in Half Moon.” My heart sinks in response to his words. His parents lived in Half Moon, and I’m not sure what he would want to go there for after all that has happened.

"Oh―Kay," I say hesitantly.

"No worries, Sweets. I can sense what you’re thinking. Where we’re going is all good," he consoles, rubbing my arm.

"All right. I'll go wherever, as long as it's with you.”

We finish our drinks, while enjoying the breeze of the ocean in each other's arms. Getting up from the table, Travis takes my hand in his and we walk over to the bar. He tells some guy that he's leaving for the day and asks him to call when he locks up tonight.

When we get outside, he holds the car door open for me and then climbs into the other side behind the wheel.

Twenty-five minutes later, we’re in Half Moon. We pull up to a beautiful house that has a for sale sign in the large front yard. I look at him, narrowing my eyes. "You're buying a house?"

He grins. "Possibly."

"This looks like a really nice place," I say, peering out the window. It looks to be an old restored home, with a lot of character on the outside. I'm taken aback because you don't find many of these types of homes in California. It's quite breathtaking.

"Yeah, wait until you see the inside.”

When we exit the car, a woman approaches Travis. "Mr. Cashman, nice to see you again," she says, shaking his hand. Travis introduces us, and then she leads us up the long stone walkway and up the stairs onto a wide, stone porch that wraps around two sides of the house. A green wooden swing hangs on one side and thoughts of spending time swinging with my grandmother on her porch as a kid flood my memory.

The woman unlocks the door and motions for us to go in. Standing in the entryway, I’m left speechless. The most gorgeous wood lines the floors and the walls are painted in a clay color, giving off a calming feel. The living room is lined with large windows, inviting the sun through them. "This is really nice, Travis," I say, awe-struck.

"I can’t wait for you to see this kitchen," he says, tugging on my arm. We walk in and my jaw drops. The kitchen in my house pales drastically in comparison. Stone covers the wall around the large stove, and the rest of the walls are lined with beautiful cream cabinetry. Even the floor is stone.

"Wow," I say, excitedly.

"I'll leave you two to wander around. I'll be outside if you should need me," the woman says.

"Thanks," Travis responds, nodding.

I walk around the kitchen, running my fingers across the marble counter tops in complete amazement. I never imagined I'd be drawn to a house like this before. "Come check out the upstairs," he says, reaching out for me to take his hand.

Standing at the top of the stairs, I look into the bedroom. Large windows line the back wall that overlooks a large backyard, with nothing but woods beyond it. On the wall to the right is a beautiful stone fireplace. And the floors are lined in hand scraped hardwood. It's stunning.

He takes my hand and leads me to the master bath. The entire room is in white, with a stone lined shower and matching floors. And in the corner sits a beautiful claw footed tub.

"This is incredible."

"I'm glad you like it because I bought it," he says, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

"You did?" I say, shocked and impressed.

"I'm signing the papers on Monday."

"What made you decide to buy a house in Half Moon? I mean, your bar is in Pescadero and I thought Amanda liked it there?"

"Yeah, but she's been missing her friends in Half Moon. She's been spending a lot of time here lately, and she's expressed that she'd like to come to high school here next year so―"

"Well, that makes sense."

"And it's closer to San Francisco," he says, grinning.

"You'll be closer to me. That's always a plus.”

"And, well, maybe someday, you would want to move in," he says, shrugging and attempting to gauge my reaction. His words both scare and comfort me―at least that's what I think these emotions are that I’m feeling. "Does that scare you?" he inquires hesitantly. I contemplate his question, and realize that it's not fear I feel, it's more uncertainty.

"No, not scared. But I can't help but think what moving in with someone resulted in for me. I can't say that I've had a good experience with moving in with a guy," I respond, looking down reflectively.              

He places a hand on both sides of my head, tilting my eyes up to his. "Don't ever think that you and I will turn out like you and him. I know that you may be scared of what may come of us, but we share something that people rarely get the chance to experience in their entire lives. If life has reunited us after all of these years, you have to know that we’re meant to be." His words reach into my chest and speak directly to my slow beating heart. He whispers into my ear, "I love you, Sweets." My heart jumps out of my chest and starts doing the cha-cha right there on the beautiful stone floor. I swallow hard.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear what you said. What was that?"

"I love you so much, Sweets. I've loved you since I can remember, and I will love you for eternity," he whispers, not moving his head from my ear.

Chills run up and down my body, causing goose bumps from both his words and the feel of his breath on my ear. I'm filled with so much desire and love for this man holding me. I turn my head to his and can see the passion flood his eyes. "I'm glad you said that because I was afraid I was the only one feeling that way. I've wanted to tell you that I love you for a while, but I was scared I'd push you away. But hearing those words spoken from you makes me want to yell it on the roof tops. I love you, Trav. I love you so much."

He puts his lips to mine and kisses me with so much hunger. This kiss feels different than all the others before them. I push up against him harder, feeling like he's not close enough―like I need to jump inside his body or it won't feel close enough. Our hands explore each other, our mouths consume each other, and our breathing is in sync with each other’s. I’ve missed this man so much that I don't want to live another day without him.

"I love you, Travis Cashman. I love you," I say in panted breaths.