Our deeds determine us, as much as we determine our deeds.
― George Eliot
“You up for a road trip?” Evan’s voice startled her, causing Cici to place her hand to her racing heart as she sat back in her desk chair.
“Sweet Lord, Evan. I didn’t hear you come in.”
“That’s because your gatekeeper is away from her desk.”
“Be nice,” Cici chastised.
Evan raised his light brown eyebrows. “That was nice. I didn’t call her a harridan or—”
“Evan.”
He leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, popping the button on his suit coat. His blue dress shirt gleamed, crisp, behind his cobalt tie. Evan’s skills in the courtroom included the ability to dress the part of a powerful, confident attorney.
“Wait. Isn’t today Tuesday?”
“Sure is,” Evan said.
“Why are you here? Weren’t you supposed to be in court?”
“I was. My case was settled this morning—got my guy a few million.” He winked. “And he doesn’t even have to pay me for the full trial.”
“Because you’re an amazing attorney,” Cici said.
“Damn straight.”
“You want to come in and sit down?”
“Nah. I have some errands to run.”
“Okay. I wish I’d known. I would have waited for lunch. We could have eaten together. I’ve missed you the past couple of weeks.”
He’d been deep into his case, though Cici thought he might also be processing her marriage to Sam. While Cici knew he was happy for them, he still must grieve her twin’s death. Those emotions had to batter at him, and Cici planned to help him through the onslaught.
“That’s part of why I’m here. I have tomorrow free. So, I thought I’d see if you’d like to drive up to the Navajo Nation. I figured it would take your mind off of Sam and give you a chance to meet up with the elders.”
Cici pursed her lips, a hint of excitement starting to bubble in her chest. “I finished my sermon, and I don’t have any pastoral calls planned…”
Of course, that didn’t mean ones wouldn’t come up. They always did.
But spending the day with Evan and returning the artifact from Chaco—no longer having that weighing on her conscience…
“Let’s do it.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
Cici nodded.
Mrs. Sanchez popped her head into the room, causing Evan to step back. He grimaced but chose to keep his mouth shut.
“Everything okay? I was just checking in with my son and grandson.”
Cici stood and stretched. “Everything’s fine.” She wiggled her toes in the boot. “Only two more weeks in this thing, and it’s gone. I can’t wait.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Evan said as Mrs. Sanchez pushed farther into the room.
“Sounds good,” Cici replied, then said to Mrs. Sanchez, “I’m going to meet Sara Lopez at her mother’s nursing home.” She pulled out a deck of cards and slipped them into her bag. “We might play some canasta.”
“Where do you think you’re going with Evan?” Mrs. Sanchez asked as she closed in on the desk, her glare baleful. Clearly, Cici’s attempt at changing the subject hadn’t worked.
Cici shut down her computer and limped around her desk so she stood near her secretary. The older woman only reached her shoulders, but Mrs. Sanchez’s presence wasn’t in her height. And now, irritation wafted from her.
“On an errand,” Cici replied. “It’s overdue.”
Mrs. Sanchez sniffed. “I don’t condone you going off with this man. He isn’t your husband.”
Cici lifted her eyebrows. “You’re mad I haven’t told you what I’m doing. And my husband is at work.”
Mrs. Sanchez opened her mouth but slammed it shut again, her double chin quivering.