There was nothing like morning sex to perk a lady up. And Connor was really good at morning sex. In fact, she was learning he enjoyed it almost as much as he did evening sex. They’d fallen into a routine of morning sex and him fixing breakfast while she showered and got ready for work.
He didn’t lie about the house doing nothing. He’d been walking every day to strengthen his leg and keep the swelling down. And he worked at his computer on the drone plans, as well as doing more of the paperwork needed for his separation from the Navy. They met for lunch downtown for an hour, and then it was back to work for her.
Bernie rose and followed her into her office. “Look who’s come in looking like the cat who ate the canary for the fourth day this week. You’re not wearing that poor, injured man out, are you?”
“SEALs never give up. That’s what Connor told me.”
“Obviously even when they’re injured, they rise to the occasion.”
“I don’t kiss and tell.” She fanned her face.
“When you left here that first day, I thought you were going to send him packing.”
“I was hurt. He’d been back in the country for fifteen days and didn’t call. And I’d been heartsick and worried about him the whole time. Turns out his leg injury was very bad, and he had an infection. There was a chance at first that he might lose his leg. I know I was being emotional and petty, and after I calmed down, I apologized. He said he didn’t call because he didn’t want to dump all that on me.”
“He’s used to protecting his country and keeping quiet about it, Sloane. It would be his first instinct to try and protect you. Since you’d only known each other for a few days, he might have thought it was too soon to involve you in something so serious.”
“I know. I know everything’s moved fast.”
“Your open heart is what makes people love you so easily, Sloane.”
It hadn’t happened with Reed. But maybe it would with Connor?
He was trying to open up to her. Trying not to hold back.
She’d even suggested inviting his father to come have dinner with them one night before Connor had to fly out. He was open to it, they just hadn’t chosen the date.
She refused to look at Bernie for fear of what her friend might read in her expression. “I thought we’d knock out those letters I need to write for Sylvia Fulton first and get that off our plate.”
She worked steadily for nearly three hours, until nausea crept up on her and a cold sweat broke out down the back of her neck and seemed to spread to the rest of her body. She bolted from her desk to the bathroom, the urge to heave too strong to fight. Acid burned her throat as it came up in a rush. She didn’t realize Bernie was standing over her until she lifted her hair back off her neck and put a cool compress there.
After a few more unproductive heaves, the sickness began to recede. She staggered to her feet to rinse her mouth and blot the sweat from her brow.
Bernie flushed the toilet. “Is it something you ate?”
“I don’t know. I was a little nauseous this morning, but it passed.”
Bernie’s dark brows were twisted in a worried frown. “This isn’t the first time you’ve been sick this week, Sloane. You said the soup you ate on Monday made you sick.”
“It was a little greasy.”
“Tell me you haven’t had unprotected sex.”
“No.” But she had. “Well, only once. But you know my history, Bernie. I can’t be pregnant.”
“That’s what I said the last time, too. Even Paul kept saying it all the way to the drug store to get the test.”
“The doctor said I couldn’t conceive without medical intervention. My fallopian tubes are too scarred and my cycle too irregular for it to happen. It isn’t unusual for me to skip periods or have painful ones.”
“How long has it been since you’ve had a period?”
“Since a week or more before our trip to Hilton Head.” Her heart pounded in her ears.
“If tab A fits into slot B and swimmers are ejected, you can be pregnant.”
Sloane would have laughed had the subject not been so painful. “I do know how it works. It would be a million-to-one chance if it happened the natural way. A miracle.”
She couldn’t be pregnant. She wasn’t. It would be finger of God stuff.
“Hey, your guy’s mister super-swimmer. Maybe his swimmers are too.” Bernie smiled at her and smoothed back her hair like she would one of her children. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to hit a drug store to get a test. Just in case. I can go out and get one for you now, and you’ll know for certain. Because of all your issues, you’ll want to know right away.”
Her face felt a little numb. Was she going into shock?
“I think I need to sit down.”
“I think you need to lie down. You look a little white.” Bernie urged her to the small couch just beneath the window. “Just rest until I get back. I’ll drive down to CVS. It’s the closest drugstore.”
She went into the bathroom, returned with a cold compress, and laid it across Sloane’s forehead. “But first I’ll fix you a cup of hot tea and bring you some crackers. They should help settle your stomach.”
“Thank you, Bernie.”
Bernie’s rushed exit left the room entirely too quiet. Disjointed thoughts tumbled through Sloane’s mind. How would she handle this? How would Connor? He’d lost a child. Though it had been six years, he might not be ready to risk his heart on another. He carried around so much pain. The way he talked about his Livy… Everything was moving too fast.
Maybe it wasn’t so. Maybe it was just a bug.
Bernie brought the tea and crackers, then left again with her purse over her shoulder.
Fifteen minutes later the door opened, and she turned to see who had come in without knocking.
Reed stood over her, his expression shuttered. “Hung over?”
“No. I think I have a stomach bug. If I were you, I’d keep my distance. I might throw up on you.”
Uneasy with her vulnerable position, she sat up, and her stomach pitched. She placed a hand against it. Once it settled she asked, “What do you want, Reed?”
“I want your woman scorned routine to end, Sloane.”
She studied him for a moment and released her breath on an exhausted sigh. “It’s been a year and a half, Reed. I was hurt for a while, but then I realized you’d done me a favor by dumping me. I’ve moved on. I have someone else in my life. So there is no ‘woman scorned routine.’” Get over yourself, asshole.
His jaw flexed and his hands knotted into fists. A chill rushed up her spine. This aggression from him frightened her.
Sloane reached for the cup of tea with a trembling hand and took a sip. “I think I’m feeling well enough to go back to work.” She took the teacup with her in case she needed to use it as a weapon, giving him a wide berth as she moved past him and went to her desk. She felt safer with the barrier between them. But not safe enough to sit down.
“I want to be able to work with you without this coldness between us.” Meaning he wanted her to share her clients with him.
She cut to the chase. “Get out and network and find your own clients.”
His frustration was palpable. “You’re just doing this because of what happened between us.”
“I’m doing this because I have a duty to protect my clients’ interests. As long as I’m physically able to serve them, I’m the only lawyer they need. Mr. Johnson worked extensively with me this past year on the trial, and I got the impression he was going to do the same with you for a while.”
“Was it your idea?”
She shook her head. “Do you really think I’d have that much influence with him? Especially since I brought a lawsuit against the firm?” Because of you. She took another sip of the tea. “I suggest you work to expand your client base if you want him off your back. If you’re busy with your own clients he won’t have any reason to look over your shoulder. Send out some letters to local businesses. Pass your card out every opportunity you get.”
A tap came at the door, and Bernie shoved it open, a bag in her hand. On seeing Reed, her features stiffened into a polite mask. “Can I do something for you, Mr. Alexander?”
“No.” Reed turned and stalked out of the room.
“You have to tell Mr. Johnson he’s harassing you, Sloane.”
“This is only the second time he’s spoken to me.”
“There’s something more there when he looks at you. He isn’t right. There’s a kind of desperation about him.”
Bernie was right, but there was nothing she could do about Reed right now. Her thoughts focused on the bag in Bernie’s hand.
Having a baby was one of her dreams. A dream she thought was forever out of her reach. It would be a gift if she was pregnant.
But if she was, it would change everything between her and Connor. He might feel trapped. He might not even believe it was his. After all, they’d been apart for seven weeks. If he walked away now, she’d never see him again. Or if he didn’t, it might be only because of the baby. Having their relationship change so drastically could be devastating.
She looked up at Bernie. “Should I wait until in the morning, or should I do it now?”
“How many weeks would you be?”
“Seven almost eight.”
“Do it now.”
She started to tear up. “I was teasing Jona down at Johnson’s office that I was going to do something I’d never done before once a month. I mentioned skydiving.”
“You’ll be covered for the next seven and a half months,” Bernie said, her tone upbeat as she broke open the box and took out the stick. “All you have to do is pee in this cup,” she held up a paper cup, “then dip in the stick. It’ll take a few minutes. A plus sign means you are, a negative means you’re not.”
Sloane took the cup and the pregnancy test into the bathroom. Stalling, she brushed her teeth first.
As she came out, loud voices came from outside in the hall, She and Bernie moved together to the door and peered out. Two police officers were half-marching, half-dragging Reed down the hall toward the elevators.
“Keep it up, asshole, and we’ll add resisting arrest to your charges.”
“This is all a mistake,” Reed insisted. “I’ll sue you for false arrest.”
Behind them Clay Johnson followed their progress while other office staff and attorneys stepped out into the hall to gawk.
“I want to call my lawyer,” Reed sounded strident. With a desperate lunge, he jerked loose from one of the policemen and grabbed his gun, backhanding the other one in the face with it.
A scream came from down the hall, and people scattered. Reed pointed the gun at the cop who remained standing and backed toward Sloane’s office.
“Put the gun down,” the cop ordered.
Bernie jerked Sloane back, and she twisted the new lock they just installed before they rushed through her office into Sloane’s and shut the door. Sloane locked that door as well. The two of them backed away and huddled near the bathroom.
A crash came from Bernie’s office, and they both jerked. Bernie caught her breath.
The lock sprang like it was made out of tissue paper and the door banged against the wall.
Reed pointed the gun at Sloane. Her legs turned to water and her stomach hollowed. After seeing Connor’s thigh she understood the damage a bullet could do.
“Get over on the couch, Sloane. You too, Bernie.”
He shut the door, though the lock to keep it closed was useless. He dragged the small table next to it over to block it. The books on it tumbled to the floor, and he kicked them out of the way.
Sweat ran down Reed’s face, and his breathing sounded ragged.
She and Bernie reached for each other and clung.
The phone started ringing. Reed jerked it off her desk and threw it against the wall. Sloane flinched at his violent reaction, and felt Bernie’s shudder.
He paced back and forth like a caged animal, his large feet eating up the narrow strip of floor space in front of the desk.
“What’s happening, Reed?” Sloane asked, purposely pitching her voice low.
“They’re arresting me for extortion and blackmail.”
She wished she was surprised, but she’d suspected he was holding something over Clay Johnson’s head to get his position back.
“I’m being investigated by the state bar for ethics violations, and I was evicted from my apartment yesterday.”
Three hard punches. It explained his air of desperation. “Call your lawyer, Reed. And ask him to come here.”
“I don’t have one. I don’t have the money for one.”
“Maybe Simon Stewart would take you on as a professional courtesy. He’s worked with you in the past, and he used to do criminal law. Just call him. My cell phone’s on the desk.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Why are you trying to help me?”
Nausea rolled over her again, and even swallowing the saliva in her mouth made it worse. She wanted to live. She wanted to tell Connor she loved him. “Because I want to get out of here in one piece. I want all of us to do that. If the police come in here, guns blazing, none of us will.”
Though he’d had the gun down by his side he jerked it up and pointed it at the door.
At least he wasn’t pointing it at them.
He leaned back against her desk. “Bernie, come here.”
Bernie remained where she was, her face pale with fear. “What do you want?”
“I want you to call Stewart and ask him to represent me.”