Page 4 of Break Even


  Those were our goals. Now, they’re just his. I went to law school to make a difference. I wanted to help kids the state had left behind. Put away criminals that didn’t deserve to see the light of day ever again. What we do just helps the rich get richer; it does absolutely nothing for humanity. I could never tell him, though. I’d never ruin his dream even if it kills mine.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” I say, spinning my chair to peer out the window. “Sure you don’t want him back when you return from your trip?”

  He laughs quietly. “You can handle it. I know you can. Besides, once you get the zoning permit, you’ll be done with him. Shouldn’t last more than a couple weeks.”

  “What if it requires more trips to nightclubs?”

  “You will not be going to any more clubs with your client,” he replies sternly. I leave out the dancing, the drinks, and the encounter outside the club bathroom. “Well, babe, I need to get going. I should be home late tomorrow afternoon, and I was thinking we could head out to the cabin for the weekend.” That tone. It reminds me so much of how he was in those first several years we were together. I hear affection.

  “I’d love that. It’s been a long week.”

  “Pack tomorrow night. We’ll leave right after the office closes.”

  “Okay,” I whisper, wondering if this might be the weekend that finally mends our hearts. The one that works like glue to bring us back together.

  “See you Friday.”

  “Bye, Cole.”

  He’s become really good at this. Every time I want to give up, he pulls me back in. It’s as if he senses it—as if he knows me well enough to know my limits, but not enough to know how much it bothers me that he pushes them.

  Before long, Beatrice comes in with my sandwich. For the first time in two days, I relax for a few minutes, reading the national news while I devour every last bit of my club sandwich. I type up a deposition that isn’t due until tomorrow, then, out of curiosity, pull River’s name up in Google. It’s probably the worst mistake I’ve ever made; sometimes you can know too much about your clients.

  He was arrested twice in his early twenties for drug possession. He’s dated every woman in the country with long legs and big boobs, although he’s never been seen with one more than a time or two. He was named one of the nation’s Top 30 Under 30 a few years ago because of the mark he’s made on the club scene. He’s an innovator and a very smart businessman.

  The only thing that surprises me is how much he donates to charity, especially children’s charities. Maybe we have one thing in common.

  My phone beeps. “Mrs. Mason, your four o’clock is here.”

  “My what?” I ask, looking at my calendar.

  “Mr. Holtz. He said you set up a meeting last night for this afternoon.”

  Shit. So much for relaxation.

  “Go ahead and send him in,” I say, swiping the crumbs from my business suit.

  I count slowly in my head, waiting for the door to open. 1 … 2 … 3 … 4. When it finally does, I hear Beatrice laughing at something he must have said. The sound fades as I take him in, wearing faded blue jeans, a gray T-shirt, and a leather jacket—definitely not my everyday client.

  “You forgot about our meeting, didn’t you?” he asks, helping himself to one of the leather chairs at the front of my desk.

  “No. Of course not.”

  He smirks, relaxing into the chair. “Maybe I forgot to mention my ability to tell when someone is not being honest.”

  “Not only can you control everything, but you read minds, too? Impressive.”

  He laughs. “Get in line, sweetheart. The world can only handle one River Holtz.”

  “So what is it we’re meeting about since I seem to have forgotten?”

  “My new venture.”

  “Right. Now, do you actually own this one or does someone else? Or are you back to telling the opposite of the truth?”

  The smile slips from his lips. “You’re starting to frustrate me.”

  “You passed that point a long time ago with me.” I pull my glasses off, rubbing under my eyes. I’d be shocked if I didn’t pass out by nine tonight. “If you’d rather work with someone else, go right ahead. It would be opportune since we haven’t even started yet.”

  He shakes his head. “We’ve been over this. You’re the one I want.”

  “Then what exactly do you need from me because I don’t feel like we’re getting anywhere,” I say, sitting back in my chair.

  “Come out to the building with me. I want to show you a few things. It’s my understanding that the city has their next meeting Tuesday evening. Our arguments need to be complete by then.”

  “Our arguments?” I question, raising a brow.

  His hands fly in the air. “Fine, your arguments. I need you to prepare your arguments by Tuesday.”

  “When would you like to go, Mr. Holtz? You know, since you’re in charge and all.”

  “Now. I have a car waiting outside,” he announces, crossing his fingers on his lap.

  I sigh, thinking of the million things I have yet to do before the week is up, and Cole will be back in town Friday. He promised the cabin—wine by the lake, campfires, and hopefully lots of the things that our relationship has been missing. Friday will be five weeks and three days—the longest it’s ever been.

  “Can I take my car and meet you there? I’m trying to get home before the ten o’clock news tonight.”

  “Parking sucks, so that’s not an option, but I promise to have you back by six-thirty at the latest. I’d hate for you to turn into a pumpkin.”

  Standing from my desk, I push the button to power down my computer, and grab my purse from underneath. “Let’s get this over with, then. You kept me out too late last night, and I’m not going to be able to function tomorrow if I don’t get sleep.”

  “It’s a deal, unless you want to have dinner with me. I know this new Thai place in the area.” He stands, following my lead.

  “Not happening. We’ve already crossed the line I draw with my clients. I’m not doing it again.”

  The smile is back. “We’ll see,” he remarks, holding the door open for me.

  Beatrice is on the phone. I feel him behind me as I wait patiently to tell her I’m heading out for the day. He’s too close. He’s always too close. When she hangs up, her eyes find me, then do a double take when they see who’s standing behind me. Right behind me.

  “If anyone calls, put them to my voicemail. Mr. Holtz and I are going to go check out the property before I take off for the day.”

  Shock shows on her face like a fireworks display. “Would you like me to come with to take minutes or anything?” She never takes minutes for these sorts of things.

  “I’ve got this one handled.” I nod toward River, rolling my eyes so only she can see.

  “We’ll see you in the morning then.”

  “Goodnight, Beatrice.”

  His fingers brush my back as we step in the elevator. I burrow myself in the corner to avoid any more of those accidental touches. But his hand grips mine to carefully guide me out when the door opens. I attempt to free myself from his grasp, but he’s too strong.

  “You’re crossing that line again,” I say as he opens the door to his black SUV.

  “I don’t live within lines.” He grins as he shuts the door and goes around to the other side. That’s stating the obvious.

  For a few minutes, we just drive in silence. I catch him looking over at me from time to time when we’re sitting at a stoplight. I do my best to ignore it.

  “Where did you grow up?” he asks.

  “Is this pertinent to your case?”

  “It’s called conversation. Every once in a while I like to have them,” he explains, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

  Fine. I’ll play. “Minnesota.”

  “And how did you end up in Miami?”

  I shrug. Florida wasn’t even a thought before I met Cole. Love changes everything. “My husband?
??s father ran the firm before we took it over. It was a no-brainer for two twenty-somethings just out of law school.”

  “Do you think you’ll stay?”

  “My whole life is here now. I mean, my dad died of a heart attack my freshman year in college, and my mom passed away the year after I got married. They were older when they had me. They never had another baby after me.”

  He nods, tapping harder against the steering wheel. Talking about them just reminds me how much I miss them. There’s so much of my life that they’ll miss out on … that they have missed out on.

  “Where are you from?” I ask, wanting to take some of the attention off myself.

  “I grew up in upstate New York. My dad and I used to come down here a lot, though. We had a condo by the ocean.”

  “Is this where you live now?”

  He shrugs, sneaking a glance in my direction. “I float. I can’t really say I live anywhere.”

  I believe it. Not everyone needs roots.

  “If this new club goes through, are you staying here?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. I’ll probably stick around long enough to make sure it’s successful, and then move on to the next one.” The more I learn about River, the more questions I have. Puzzles this complicated are impossible to put together in just a few days.

  We drive a little farther, passing blocks of city buildings before coming to a stop in front of a three-story brick building. The neighborhood is a mix of new and old—up and coming.

  “This is it,” he says, putting the SUV into park.

  “And why don’t they want a nightclub here?”

  “It’s zoned for shops and restaurants. They don’t like the fact that I want to turn it into a club after ten.”

  I unbuckle my seatbelt. “Can we go inside?”

  He grins. “Well, that is why I brought you here.”

  Once inside, I’m amazed. The building has been stripped bare, exposing the original brick and pipes. I envision what it could be, and it actually excites me.

  “Do you realize what you could do with this place?” I say, losing myself in possibility. I imagine a place where the girls and I can have wine night.

  “Are you going to give me legal advice, or are you going to tell me how to design my club?” He tilts his head, staring at me with those eyes. A nun could be talked into sex with those eyes.

  “Design. What if you made this an after-hours club for business professionals? Give it a loft feel. High profile. Your wait staff would wear more than they did last night, the drinks would be higher priced with more of an emphasis on wine, and the décor toned down, but I could see it actually working.”

  He takes a couple steps in my direction. “And why would I want to do that?”

  I pull at the neck of my blouse. It’s hot and humid in here. “There’s not another place like it in town. There are plenty of clubs. There are plenty of bars to sit and enjoy a bottle of wine, but there’s nothing like what I just described—a high-end club for those who are over their college years. Singles would still mingle, but for a different purpose. You just might become a Miami matchmaker.”

  Something on the ceiling catches his attention momentarily. “That would require me to throw out the plans I paid six figures for.”

  “It was just an idea. And the city might take better to it, if you think about it.”

  His eyes catch mine again. “I’ll think about it. I can’t say I hate the idea.”

  For a matter of seconds, we stay like that. Locked. I look people in the eyes every single day, but somehow what I feel when I look in his is different. I just can’t put my finger on why. “Think about it. I’ll need to know exactly what you want to propose by tomorrow so I can start working on your request over the weekend.”

  He nods, sliding his thumb over his lower lip before walking past me—breaking the contact. “I should probably get you back so you don’t miss the news,” he jokes.

  “Cinderella appreciates that.”

  I can’t see him, but I hear him laugh.

  That’s a problem with Cole. I rarely hear him laugh, at least not with me.

  The ride home is longer this time because of thick traffic. I don’t mind it really, and the company isn’t bothering me much either.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “You changed your mind about dinner and want to know if we can go back?” he asks.

  “Lines, Holtz.”

  With his foot planted firmly on the brake, he lifts his hands in surrender. “What you got for me, Mason? I’m assuming you’re not going to ask to go dancing again tonight.”

  “Hell no,” I say, chills running down my back when I think of last night. “Why do you donate so much money to CASA for the children?”

  I watch him swallow hard. “How did you know about that?”

  “Your file was pretty thin, so I did some extra research,” I admit. “It’s not common so I was just—”

  “Wondering why an asshole like me would give so much to a charity?” His voice vibrates with anger.

  “That’s not what I was going to say. It’s just not a well-known charity. How did you pick that one over all of the others?”

  We come to a stop in front of my building. “Lines, Mason.”

  I wonder why his charity work is a line. The more secrets he keeps, the more I want to know about him. For every few pieces of the puzzle I put together, another goes missing. I curl my fingers around the door handle and without another word, I step out onto the sidewalk.

  “For the record, I don’t think you’re an asshole,” I admit before I close the door and walk toward the parking garage. Two more days, and I’ll be deep in the Georgia woods with my husband.

  No worries.

  No distractions.

  No River.

  OUR CABIN IS TUCKED AWAY in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Georgia. It was just another one of the gifts that Cole’s dad left us when he passed away a few years ago. It’s a plane ride away so we don’t get up here as much as I’d like. Especially with Cole’s schedule.

  “The weather is perfect,” Cole says, wrapping his arms around me from behind as I stand on the deck overlooking the mountains.

  “We couldn’t have picked a better weekend.”

  He pulls the strap of my tank down, kissing my shoulder. “Do you know what the best thing is about being out here?”

  “Hmm?” I moan, leaning my head back against his shoulder.

  “It’s just me and you for miles.” The other strap slips from my shoulder, his palms sliding them down my arms until I’m exposed down to my bra. “I can have you wherever I want you.”

  The cups of my bra are yanked down, his fingertips deftly working my nipples.

  “Cole—” I say, wrapping my arm back around his neck as I gasp for air. We haven’t been like this in a few days. But I desperately need him everywhere. He teases my skin with his lips and fingertips. My neck. My breasts. The center of my back.

  “Turn around, baby.”

  I comply, aching for him. Standing on my tiptoes, I press my lips to his, yearning to sink deeper, but he grips my hips and sits me on the railing. I lean in for another kiss, but he stops me, kissing down my neck instead. I’ve yet to see those deep blue eyes—to feel the connection that comes when I stare into them. My skirt is pushed up to my hips, then his hand reaches between us, unzipping his shorts.

  “Kiss me,” I beg, needing to feel more. The relationship everyone once admired seems like nothing more than hungry sex. I need reassurance. I need the Cole who I existed with a few years ago.

  The one who made me believe in love shouldn’t also be the one who makes me doubt it.

  With his eyes closed, he kisses me once, tugging my lip between his teeth before he pulls back. “I need to be inside you, baby.” He slides my panties to the side and sinks into me slowly.

  “Did you miss this?” he whispers against my neck before he kisses his favorite spot. Since the first time we were together, he’s made his m
ark on the most sensitive spot below my ear.

  “God, yes!” I yell, relaxing into his arms. They’re the only things keeping me steady.

  “What did you miss most?”

  “Seeing you … touching you. I’m so close, Cole.”

  “Did you think about this while I was away? What I would do to you out here?”

  “Yes,” I answer, placing my hand behind his neck to pull him in closer. Just a little more, and I’ll be gone. Completely gone.

  “I want to feel you squeeze around me. Can you do that, baby?” His voice trails off, and seconds later, I’m pulsing around him as he releases into me. It’s a sliver of what I needed. I’ve been starved for so long, once isn’t nearly enough.

  “I love you,” I say, wrapping my arms and legs firmly around him.

  “Not as much as I love you.”

  Tonight, I don’t doubt it. Maybe we’re finally crawling back out. Maybe we’re over the bump.

  Saturday mornings used to be spent in bed. We used to roll around naked from the time we woke up until our empty stomachs couldn’t take it anymore. Work replaced that. He’s tucked away in his little office in the back while I sit outside by the wrought iron table with my laptop and a cup of coffee. It’s not that this bothers me so much as time changes everything, but this was our weekend—our time to rejuvenate and be us. Instead we fall into our routine.

  “Hey, babe!” he yells through the patio door. “I’m going to run into town and get a charger for my phone. Do you need anything?”

  “No!” I yell back, lifting my lips from my coffee cup.

  Seconds later, he’s kneeling next to me, pulling my chin between his fingers. “I’m sorry I have a few things I have to wrap up from this week, but we’ll head out on the boat after lunch.”

  He winks. I know exactly what he has in mind. My mind is on other things. Like how we used to talk for hours about nothing at all. How the mere sight of him used to make my stomach flip. There’s not much I wouldn’t give up to have all that back. The money and success aren’t worth it.