"Bullshit?" I crack a smile as I toss the word back at him.
"You were torn up on the phone." He taps his index finger on the edge of the desk. "You didn't call me because you two argued. It's more than that."
He's right. We both know it. The problem is that I feel like I'm betraying Jessica. I can't do that. Regardless of how much she shuts me out, I can't start sharing what's happening between us with just anyone. I can't do that to her. "It's more than that," I lie. "I lost a client this morning."
"I don't blame them," he chuckles. "I'd fire you too if you were my lawyer."
"Not fired." I shake my head. "My client died."
"Fuck." He pulls in a heavy breath. "That's rough man."
I turn my chair so I facing the bank of windows that overlook the city. He knows Mr. Wilkinson. Garrett is the one who recommended me to him. I don't want to get into the details of his death right now. "You never know when it will be the end. One day you're making phone calls, meeting with people, and living your life and then you go to sleep and never wake up."
"How old was he?"
"Older," I toss the word behind me. "He had great grandchildren."
I hear him shift in the chair. "He lived a long life. Not everyone can say that."
"You're right," I acquiesce. Mr. Wilkinson had lived longer than most people can expect to. He lived a life that was filled with love and family. He'd worked hard to provide for the people he loved and then at the end he died with the worry that it was all stolen from him.
"What happens to his case now?"
I stare straight ahead, my eyes locked on the streams of people filling the sidewalks. Each of them has a story to tell. They've all lost people they love. I'm going to lose the person I love more than anyone if I don't fix things now. "His case?" I parrot back the words.
"Your client?" He speaks slowly and clearly. "Nate, what happens to his case now?"
I turn quickly in my chair, pulling my suit jacket back on as I stand. "I get as much as I can for his family. I don't give up until I win." The words hold much more meaning than Garrett could ever realize.
Chapter 17
"She's really kind." Her voice completely matches her appearance.
"I think so too," I say as I tip my water glass towards her.
She picks up the menu from the table. "Have you been together a long time?"
I smile at her, my name scanning over her nametag. "Not long enough, Cindy," I offer. "I wish I'd met her the day she was born."
Her hand leaps to her chest. "That's so romantic. Jess is so lucky."
"No," I purse my lips together. "I'm lucky. Can you tell me how much longer until her break?"
She leans closer. Her hand darts to the side of her mouth as if she's going to share a national secret with me and wants to ensure that no one else in the vicinity hears it. "She already had her break but she said she'll finish up and be right out to talk to you."
My heart is pounding. I haven't been this nervous to talk to Jessica since the second night I saw her at the club. The first night, I fell asleep before I took her into my bed. I went back to the club again the following night with the hope that she'd magically reappear. She did. I knew when I saw her then, that I'd never let her out of my sight again. I can't. My heart can't take it. "I'll be waiting right here."
"I'll get your sandwich." She turns on her heel and walks towards the kitchen.
I use the moment alone to look at my phone. I've tried calling Pam Wilkinson twice and there's been no response. I'm actually grateful for that. I'm not sure what I can offer in terms of condolences. I just want to reiterate to her that I'm working as hard as I can to settle her grandfather's case. I am. I need to get my focus back into work. I can only do that if Jessica and I are in a good place.
"Nathan." Her hand brushes over mine as she takes a seat across from me. "You didn’t have to come here to see me."
I look up. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a tight bun. She's not wearing any make up. It only adds to how beautiful she is. She looks young, fresh and alive. Her chef's jacket is stained with a myriad of colors. I can tell she's been working hard. She has been for months now. Between her job here and her classes at school, it's a wonder she's made any time for me at all. "You're so beautiful." I don't plan for the words to escape from me, but I can't temper them.
"I look like shit," she whispers back with a small grin. "I couldn't sleep."
"The bed in the guestroom is made of rocks." I cock a brow. "You need to stop running in there when things get rough."