Chapter Thirty-One
It had been two weeks since Saoirse had told him about the prick who had assaulted her. Of course Arthur had figured out who the jackass was with a quick internet search and was developing a plan to get this guy behind bars or at least lose his job at the law school and never be hired to teach ever again, hopefully lose his license to practice law. He was absolutely incensed and vowed that Mark Teufel would get his just deserts. Or as close as he could get without murdering the man.
In the meantime, he’d been more cautious with Saoirse while trying not to make it seem as though he thought she was fragile. She’d rip him a new one, and frankly he wanted to save his skin for when hedidn’tknow he was going to set her off.
She’d also requested after two weeks had passed that she be allowed to not be little from when she got up from her afternoon nap until dinner was over. Which was a good idea if she was going to go back to law school in the fall. It’s not as though she’d be able to fill out all the necessary paperwork and make arrangements while huddled in her blanket fort hugging Ziggy and wearing her spreader pants.
A couple of times this week she’d changed her mind because she couldn’t deal, and that was fine too. He’d always be there for her in any capacity she needed him to be. And as hard as he tried not to let her know it because again with the rage, Arthur always thought of Saoirse as his princess, his darling girl.
Right now he was working on some of his cases while she was taking her morning nap. Sweet little thing was curled up in her crib holding Ziggy with her paci still tucked in her mouth. It was hard to believe sometimes that she was the same woman that would sit down to dinner with him, have a glass of wine, and argue the fine points of how legal precedence should work or recent supreme court rulings. But that’s why he loved her; she was brilliant and articulate and sophisticated while also needing to be spanked and bound and bottle-fed. Perfect.
His cell rang andNikolina—Officeflashed across his screen. He hadn’t talked to her since she tore him apart on that call with Vance and he hadn’t expected to hear from her again until he either went back to work and they formed some sort of truce or she made another push for him to sell his stake in the firm.
A pang of urgency in his chest made him swipe to answer with “Nikki, is everything okay?”
“You’re a worrywart, Arthur. Everything is fine.”
He could’ve pointed out that he thought it must be important since she hadn’t spoken to him in almost three weeks when it had literally been years since the last time they’d gone without talking for a day. But he wasn’t a stupid man and he didn’t feel like provoking one of the other toughest women he knew to scratch his eyes out.
“I’m glad. Do I owe you something for a case, or…”
There was a sigh on the other end, which was curious. Nikki was not the sighing type. She was the fire-breathing, limb-rending type.
“I actually owe you something. An apology to be precise.”
Arthur felt his brows edge halfway up his forehead. “Okay?”
“I still don’t think it was responsible for you to play rehab with Saoirse. But Vance said she’s doing well and I’m sincerely glad she’s recovering. I like to think if her issues had proved to be too much for you that you would’ve checked her into a program to get the help she needed.”
“I’d like to think so too,” he responded, because yes. He hoped he wasn’t the kind of man who would put his own pride and stubbornness before the health and safety of the woman he loved.
“The thing is…”
He could hear Nikki tapping her pen on her desk, could see her doing it in his mind’s eye as well. A nervous and infrequently exhibited tic of hers.
“As soon as you said you’d be going on leave to take care of her, I knew. I knew she was your little. And I…”
Nikki blew a long breath out her mouth and he wished he was in the same room with her, could see her. She was one of his best friends and he adored her, he didn’t want her to be as uncomfortable as she sounded now. He wanted to fix it but it wasn’t clear that there was anything for him to fix.
“I was jealous, okay? I was jealous of Saoirse and I was angry at you so I lashed out because I wanted to hurt you. And we’ve been friends for so long I know how to get under your skin. That’s why I said what I said and I apologize. It’s been shitty managing without you here but not untenable and I shouldn’t have said those things about buying you out or about Saoirse, well, you know.”
He did recall Nikki implying that Saoirse would drive drunk and kill at least herself in the process, likely someone else as well. It had stabbed him straight through the heart and Vance had been appalled too.
“I know it’s been a while since you’ve had a partner, Nikki. But you’ll find someone. You’re an extraordinary woman and any woman out there would be lucky to have you. I know it’s not easy to find a mommy but I know you will.”
“Mmm, yeah. I wasn’t just jealous of Saoirse because she had found a caregiver. I…I was jealous because it was you.”
There was a record scratch sound in Arthur’s head. What? That didn’t make any sense.
“But you like women. You want a mommy. I don’t understand.”
“Imostlylike women. There have been exceptions few and far between and you happen to be one of them.”
Being dumbstruck wasn’t a frequent occurrence in Arthur’s life, but he was stunned silent now. Nikolina saying she’d been interested in him was tantamount to her saying she was rooting for the Yankees when in fact he knew with absolute certainty she’d been a diehard Red Sox fan her whole life.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Not that he’d ever thought of Nikolina like that but then again he’d never had reason to. Above all she was his colleague, and besides, she’d always identified as a lesbian. Telling anyone they were wrong about their own sexuality was rude, insulting, and downright disgusting.