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“Right,” Elias said in response to Tig’s suggestion. “We’ll wait.”
Boston, Massachusetts
Caught up in the moment. That’s all it’d been. That’s all it could ever be.
Paula Starker massaged her temples and then drew her fingers through the plump dark ringlets that covered her head in a flirty bob. Silently, she ordered the words to take hold of her psyche and convince her of their truth.
Linus had just been caught up in the moment; that’s where all his...insane talk had come from. She began to tap her fingers to her forehead to convince the idea to take root. She couldn’t quite make it stick, and knew the girl inside her was to blame. That was what happened when a woman went to war with the girl she’d been.
Paula had been sensing that girl—her former self—creeping closer to the surface of her consciousness ever since she’d seen Linus at the hospital following Sophie’s accident during her investigation of a previous case. All it had taken was a look from him to have the girl clamoring back to the surface. When he’d taken her hand to shake it, the girl had nearly swooned.
Paula couldn’t begrudge the girl her desires. More than anything, she wanted to give in to them too. The woman in her though...the woman was who she was now. Back then, the woman had swept in heroically to save the girl from being consumed by waves of self-pity. While the girl had only cared about being back in the arms of Linus Brooks, the woman had wanted to know why Linus Brooks had crushed her heart and left it to rot.
“Stop!” Paula gave a violent shake of her head. She was making too much of this now. Besides, she’d pretty much set him straight before storming off that beach in Mexico anyway.
The woman wanted answers, but she was also just fine with keeping things as they were. Yes, she deserved answers about the night things had changed between them so long ago. If she got them though...if she got them and her heart melted for him again... Paula knew neither the girl nor the woman would survive that kind of hurt twice in a lifetime.
Resting her head against the seat back, Paula studied the house at the top of the long winding brick drive.
“Hope you’ve got some words of wisdom, Professor B.” She sighed and rolled her window down to speak into the callbox outside the iron gates securing the home of Dr. Miranda Bormann, Esquire. Paula’s former professor and mentor had been her go-to source for answers to life’s most perplexing questions.
Paula sure hoped the woman hadn’t lost her knack for issuing excellent advice.
* * *
She ascended the wide front steps with more confidence than appreciation. Paula knew her confidence was most likely due to the fact that Miranda Bormann had been the one to reach out to request a visit. While Paula had kept healthy contact with her favorite professor over the years, she was usually the one to connect with offers to get together for dinner or a quick chat over afternoon tea, or coffee as it were.
She smiled, flexing her fingers around the handle of the paper bag she carried. The package contained a tin of Bormann’s favorite French roast. As district attorney of a major city, it had been difficult for Paula to keep to a consistent schedule of visits, but she made a tremendous effort.
It was nice to be visiting by Bormann’s invitation, rather than by her own request. Still, the technicalities didn’t change the fact that Paula was in need of serious mentoring just then. Her troubled past and recent encounter with Linus Brooks weren’t the only things wreaking havoc on her mind now.
Paula was poised to ring the bell when the broad pine door opened before her. She laughed, surprised and delighted to be met by the hostess herself.
Miranda Bormann personified what it meant to retire well. One reason was because the woman considered herself a lifelong student. She’d taken to acquiring firsthand knowledge of the world around her once she’d resigned from her tenure as a renowned law professor. The various LISTSERVs and web groups Paula subscribed to often reported on what hidden corner of the world Bormann had travelled to.
Understated elegance was the phrase that often followed a mention of Miranda Bormann’s name. Her papers and lectures also graced the shelves of some of the finest libraries in the world.
Bormann, however, was no diva. She was happy whether she was speaking over commencement exercises at a major university or working tirelessly in her greenhouse or outdoor flower garden. When the woman answered the door now, it was obvious she’d been getting her hands dirty.
“Looks like I’m dressed for work.” Paula spread her hands to indicate her worn jeans, sneakers and the lightweight sweatshirt under her jacket.
“For a change,” Miranda Bormann scoffed, but her sky-blue eyes were sparkling playfully as she assessed the younger woman’s attire. “It’s usually Prada or Gucci with you. Get in here.” Bormann pulled Paula into a tight embrace, which was followed by a cheek kiss.
“You always said clothes make the woman,” Paula noted when they pulled apart and she presented Bormann with the coffee.
“Ooh!” the noted professor cooed. She sniffed inside the bag as though the aroma of the freshly ground beans was wafting from the can.
“Nooo,” she said, her freckled nose scrunching in disagreement to Paula’s words. “I said perfectly pressed clothes make the woman. Invest in a good iron, and folks won’t know whether you’re in Coco Chanel or JC Penney. Now let’s see if this tastes as good as it smells.” Bormann hugged the bag close and led the way from the foyer.
“I was surprised to get your call,” Paula said as she followed. “I’m usually the one bugging you for a visit.”
“You never bug me! You keep me spry!” Bormann declared as she took the long corridor to her kitchen at a speed that had Paula sprinting to keep up.
“Glad to hear that.”
Bormann’s quick steps slowed, and she turned to eye Paula speculatively. “What’s that tone?”
Paula shrugged. “Life stuff.”
The playful sparkle in Bormann’s eyes turned sly. “A young man?”
Paula laughed. “We aren’t so young anymore.”
Bormann stuck out her tongue. “You’re a baby. Hank and I broke up four times before we were married and made a go of it for fifty-two years.” She raised thin, perfectly arched brows.
Again, Paula laughed. “It’s complicated.”
“It always is, my love.” Bormann turned and continued her trek down the corridor. “So...young man troubles and? Anything more to go on the day’s agenda?” She breezed into the airy kitchen that looked to be half the size of a football field.
Paula took her place on one of the cushioned high-back stools dotting the long wood-grained island that separated the cooking space from a cozy breakfast nook and sunken den area. “The rest is about work.”
“New case?” Bormann asked while scanning the labeling on the coffee tin.
“No.” Paula focused on the invisible design she traced into the island top. “And I’m thinking about keeping it that way.”
Bormann looked every bit the hard-nosed professor then as she eyed her former student. She set down the coffee tin and moved closer to Paula at the island. “Keeping it that way as District Attorney Paula Starker, or Paula Starker, Esquire?”
“I’m pretty sure District Attorney Paula Starker is history.” Paula slumped against the stool back. “I’m not running for reelection. As for Paula Starker, Esquire... I’m not sure yet.”
“That last case really got to you,” Bormann noted, and began toying with the end of her dark braided ponytail.
“In a pretty big way.” Paula saw no point in denying it.
There was no need to provide details. Paula’s last case had made front page headlines nationwide. The inner workings of the Philadelphia Police Department had been a hot topic for months following the news of a money laundering scandal that had brought down several members of the department.
“It’s not easy to prosecute cops you’ve worked with. I’ve bought Christmas presents for some of their kids and—” Paula couldn’t continue. Her thoughts went to top members of the brass and even police academy instructors.
“I almost lost my best friend in the mix,” she added, thinking of Chief of Detectives Sophia Hail-Rodriguez, who’d been targeted when she’d gotten too close to the truth. “That one hit way too close to home.” She shuddered while shaking her head. “I’ve had enough, Professor B. I mean I—I still love the law. I... I just don’t know what my place is in it anymore.”
“And how does your young man fit into this?”
“He doesn’t.”
Bormann smiled when Paula snapped the words.
Paula silently ordered herself to take it down a notch. “He’s a whole other pile of crap-drama, I mean.”
“Ah! So there’s love there.”
Paula looked confused. “Well, I just called him a pile of crap, so...”
Bormann seemed tickled. Clasping her hands, she grabbed the tin and turned for her coffeemaker. “We’ll discuss him first before we get to the real shitty part of the agenda.”
Paula noticed the woman was carrying a folder once she’d put the coffee on and turned back to the island.
“Before we talk about him, I’ve got no real advice to give about your political decisions other than to list all the pros and cons, weigh them dispassionately before you choose.” Bormann slid the folder across the wood-grain countertop to Paula.
“I can’t imagine what all it must take to be a DA,” she continued. “There are aspects to that job that can affect your decisions in ways I’m not capable of anticipating. As for your law career, I can tell you that there are all kinds of ways to serve. Maybe you need to find a new way.”
Paula glanced at the folder and smiled. “Will I find a way in there?”
Bormann shrugged. “Maybe a career in private practice could be your calling. If so, consider that—” she tapped the folder “—my request to become your first client.”
Paula’s smile vanished when her jaw dropped.
Chapter 2
He should’ve waited. He should’ve waited before pressing her to talk or to let him talk—explain. He had pressed though, and what had that gotten him except her telling him where to go? She’d reminded him with scalding efficiency of just how much he’d hurt her.
Now, three weeks later, that moment still maintained prime position in his head. She’d pretty much told him he had no chance with her, and yet he’d spent the better part of his time since the ill-fated encounter on the beach assuring himself that this wasn’t over.
He couldn’t fathom why he was so sure of that now, when they’d been out of each other’s lives for ages. Linus knew why, of course. Paula had never been out of his head. Not really. Such a thing wasn’t possible when she was the district attorney in the city he lived in.
Paula Starker was a frequent presence on his TV screen when a new case required her input for the evening broadcast. Not only that, but as a public figure—a beautiful public figure—her private life was also prime fodder for the rumor mill.
Linus could’ve done without all the buzz on the latest athlete, actor or musician she’d been seen on the town with. Still, when the odd occasion arose where they wound up at the same event, he managed to make himself scarce. He made himself scarce when what he really wanted was to rip out the intestines of the latest idiot who thought to claim what was his. What used to be his, he reminded himself.
Such torture, however, didn’t stop him from tuning in for the gossip. The celebrity involvements rarely lasted beyond a date or two. When she’d been caught out with someone he didn’t recognize and those outings numbered beyond four...those were the times his heart seized in his chest. Those were the times he feared she was lost to him for good.
The fact that she wasn’t lost to him for good gave him hope. Seeing her on that beach, though...witnessing the sheen of tears in her eyes not spilled...
He’d hurt her in the past, badly. Regardless of how much he assured himself that all wasn’t hopeless between them now, there was no going forward until he told her why. He’d lost it that night, demolished the place that was meant to signify a defining moment in their futures. It was the place he’d planned to ask her to be his wife.
Linus sensed a numbness along his forearm and saw that his drawn fist was to blame. He had long since triumphed over the anger—the rage—that had ruled him. There were times, however, when he believed he hadn’t triumphed at all—that the demons had only lain in wait for the perfect thing to destroy.
It had been that way when he’d found Paula. He’d gone years without an episode, even joined his best friends on a completely bold venture to revamp an already successful and revered company. Linus had been the outspoken visionary behind Joss Construction when he met the ambitious new lawyer with future designs on turning the Philly political scene on its ear by becoming the city’s first black female DA.
Life had been good then, and their chemistry had been explosive. Now, Linus’s appetite for women had little to do with conquests and more to do with hope. It was the hope that a woman out there could make him forget Paula Starker. He didn’t think such a woman existed. Their emotions had delved far beneath the shallow physical allure to collide with something far more powerful. The surface attraction, however, had done a total number on him. The confident lawyer with the nonstop curves had had him cold.
Linus had wanted Paula in the most desperate way, but he’d wanted more than the delights her body promised. He’d sensed a kinship—a connection of the spirit that surpassed the physical—and he had wanted to see where things could go between them. Such was not to be, and the blame for that rested right at his feet. He wanted—needed—to make it right. More than that, he wanted her back, wanted her to be his, the way she always should’ve been. His and his alone.
But what of the demons? The demons had waited ever so patiently to unleash their havoc-wreaking frenzy until he had been literally days away from securing a future with Paula. Giving her an explanation for that night and then just walking away wasn’t an option for him. Neither was hurting her again.
Besides that, giving her an explanation—the one she deserved—meant revisiting a place he had sworn he was done with. A place that made him feel like nothing more than the scared kid he’d been instead of the accomplished man he’d become.
There was a sound on his office door that barely passed for a knock. Linus turned to see his partners hovering just past the threshold. Their wary expressions brought a much-needed smile to his face. Despite the smile, he had to wave them in before they moved any farther beyond the doorway.
“Este says you’ve been in here all afternoon.” Tig referred to Linus’s assistant, Estella Mays.
“Yeah,” was Linus’s only confirmation.
Tig looked helplessly to Eli, and both men appeared to be holding out little hope that their friend’s mood had improved.
“So how’d the rest of the meeting go?”
Linus’s query seemed to be the olive branch Tig and Eli needed. Noticeably more comfortable, they moved a little farther into the office.
“All went well. Everything seems in order,” Tig said.
“Any pop in here, Line?” Eli asked on his way to the mini fridge.
“Yeah, help yourself.”
Eli gave a nod and sent Tig a sly look across his shoulder.
“So it looks like Maxton’s cool with us taking as much time as we need at the villa.” Tig moved into the roomy living area that occupied over a third of the office space.
“Sounds good,” Linus said, joining him.
“Me and E were thinkin’, since we’ve got so much work to do with going over the rest of the proposals, it might be a good idea to just keep this strictly a business trip.”
“Right.” Linus settled into his preferred recliner. The smile curving his mouth gave away the fact that he was all too aware what had prompted the change in plans. Still, he pretended to be confused. “What about playtime with playthings?”
Tig cast aside the idea with a wave. “Sophie’s already taken three weeks of her eight-week leave. Best to save the rest for when we come up with our master getaway to pay back Rook and Veev for Mexico.”
“Mmm-hmm, and what about Clarissa?” Linus asked Eli, who was on his way to the living room with three bottles of soda in tow.
Eli smiled at the mention of his girlfriend, Clarissa David. “She’s already feeling guilty for leaving Ray with so much of the workload—first the getaway to Cortina and then Mexico for Tig and Sophie’s wedding. She’s trying to get the woman to take some time for herself.” Eli referred to Rayelle Keats. In addition to being Clarissa’s best friend, Ray served as general manager for her late aunt’s franchise of gentleman’s clubs that were transitioning into dance studios.
“Trust us, it won’t be all work,” Tig said. “We’ll take Rook and Bark along. Since Rook’s new job keeps him up to his ears in snow for most of the year and if the weather guys get it right, we’ll be getting our fill of it in a few weeks, so I don’t think it’ll be hard to convince Barker. We could make it a guys’ getaway—hell, we’re entitled to those, same as the girls,” he added.
“Sure we are.” Linus gave a half shrug. “Thing is, guys’ getaways are a lot more fun when girls participate. No offence, but Rook and Bark aren’t exactly the playmates who’d put that fun in motion.”
“Yeah, well, it wouldn’t be much fun if everybody didn’t have a playmate,” Tig observed.
Linus grinned, the gesture sparking his faint dimple. “You know, I won’t have trouble finding one of those to bring along.”
“Mmm, but not the one you want.” Eli held his bottle poised for drinking while regarding his friend with quiet amusement. “Who is she?” he asked.
Linus’s grin remained, but the gesture appeared just a tad forced. “Do you really need me to talk about my list of conquests now?”
“No. Just the one who’s got you in this mood.”
The grin vanished. In its place was a series of muscle twitches along the jawline. Linus left his recliner and began to pace the living area.
“We don’t mean to pry, man.” Tig winced. “If you don’t want to talk—”
“It’s okay.” Linus shook his head. “I should’ve told you guys about her a long time ago.”
“Girl from your past?” Tig guessed.
“Way past,” Linus confirmed.
“We know her?” Eli asked.
“Yeah.” Linus turned then, folding his arms over his chest while he leaned against a wall. “Paula Starker.”
Tig and Eli exchanged looks.
“Paula?” Tig blurted.
“DA Paula Starker?” Eli emphasized.
Linus’s lazy grin returned. “Yes and yes.”
“Get the hell out of here!” Tig ordered, after silence had held the room in its grip for half a minute.
Eli roared with laughter. “Damn, man, if you didn’t want to talk about it, you could’ve said so!”
“It’s not a joke,” Linus insisted, though he fully understood his friends’ disbelief.
“She’s the DA.” Tig apparently felt the need to reiterate that fact.
Linus only smiled. “She wasn’t always.”
“How is this possible?” Eli wanted to know. “We’ve been friends since the crib.”
Linus laughed heartily then. “Does that mean we have to know everything about each other?”
Eli shrugged. “I’d say everything else pales in comparison once you know someone crapped their pants up through first grade.”
Laughter exploded between the old friends.
“Lies!” Linus roared. “That only happened when they served that green pudding for lunch.”
“I gotta agree with E, man.” Tig’s tone brought a touch of seriousness back to the conversation. “Soph and Paula are best friends. She’d have mentioned it.”
Linus grew more serious then too. “Guess she’s done as good a job keeping it from her friends as I have from mine.”
Eli leaned over to set his bottle on an end table. “What happened?” he asked.
“Lost my temper.” Linus knew it wouldn’t take much more than those words to give his friends a good idea of how things had derailed. Questions remained, however.
“Did you hit her?” The gold flecks in Tig’s dark eyes glinted with unspoken disapproval.
“No.” Self-disgust had sent the faint amber hue of Linus’s gaze diluting to its molten chocolate state. “But I didn’t much care where the furniture landed when I threw it. She wasn’t touched, but she could’ve been.” Linus reclaimed his seat on the recliner. “Touched or not, she got hurt just the same. I said things...called her names.”
“What names?”
“The bad kind.” Linus sent Eli a humorless smirk. “She’s got every right to hate me, and she’s made it clear that she does over the few times we’ve seen each other lately.”
“In Cortina?” Eli shifted a meaningful look at Tig while referring to the recent trip they had taken to Rook Lourdess’s home.
“Hmph, yeah.” Linus shook his head in spite of himself. “Then there was Mexico.”
Tig winced. “So I guess all the love and adoration that’s been goin’ around has been hell on you.”
“You’ve got no idea, T.” Linus managed a weary grin. “She should have been my wife by now. The night I lost it, I was gonna propose.”
“Jesus, Line...” A measure of Eli’s own temper surfaced then. “It was that serious and you never told us?”
“Nothin’ personal, E.” Linus shrugged weakly. “It was just so good for so long between us and I didn’t want to do anything to set them off.”
“Them?”
“My demons,” Linus said in reply to Tig’s query. “They’d been quiet for so long before that night. I thought maybe...maybe they were gone. That somehow I’d defeated them. It took that night to see there was no defeat, no triumph ’til I turned and faced them.”
“Looks like you have.” Tig spread his hands in an encompassing gesture. “We haven’t been witness to any furniture-throwing outbreaks lately.”
“Paula hasn’t been in my life lately, T. Sometimes I think all my so-called progress is a joke. It won’t be real until I turn and face her—apologize for what I did.”
“So what happened that night?” Eli queried, his expression a tad guarded. “To make you do what you did?”
“That’s not the point.” Linus’s features visibly sharpened as well. “The point is I did it and I need her to give me the chance to tell her how sorry I am.”
The looks exchanged between Eli and Tig were laced with uncertainty again.
“An apology for what you did might go over better if you tell her why you did it,” Tig noted.
Linus’s features remained set. “Why doesn’t matter.”
“It might to her,” Tig challenged.
Linus leaned forward then and held his head in his hands. Silently, he agreed.
* * *
“But that’s for later. First, I want to hear about this young man.”
Paula sent strongly worded mental orders to her brain to pick her jaw up off the ground. She watched Miranda Bormann with a mix of humor and disbelief.
“You can’t just lay something like this on me and expect us to go back to talking about my love life,” she said.
“Ah, so you are in love with him?”
“Professor B—”
“Humor an old woman, love.”
“Okay. Where is she?” Paula countered.
Miranda Bormann’s gaze sparkled slyly. “Nice try, but flattery won’t help. I want to know about your young man. Let’s start with when you met him.”
“Alright.” Paula anticipated the woman’s surprise at what she would say next. “A few weeks before I got my law degree.”
Miranda Bormann was indeed stunned. “You met him then, but I’ve never seen you with a diamond on a certain finger. What gives?”
“Remember that drama I spoke of? There was a ton of it.”
Bormann blinked. “Still?”
The inquiry had Paula wincing. “It kind of carried over—it was hard to run from.”
“Such are the ways things tend to be when it comes to drama with the one we love, and don’t try telling me you’re not in love with him. If you could see your face, you’d know that’s what’s written all over it.”