Take Me to Court Page 3

  I scowled. “Oh my,” I stammered.

  “Hence the dumbfounded looks from my father and I at your congenial conversation with him.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about. Of all of the people in the room that I expected you to strike up a conversation with, he didn't even make the list!"

  “Of course, now that I know all of that I feel like I need a shower just from standing next to him.” I shook my hands as if something grimy was stuck to them and shivered.

  “Oh, I think you definitely need a shower,” he said into my ear, the tip of his tongue tracing the outside of my ear and his teeth nibbling at the lobe.

  I giggled and raised my shoulder up in a feeble and not at all serious attempt to make him stop. My heart was now completely in his hands.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  NATALIE

  The summer had flown by and we had managed to see each other every few weeks.

  After the initial white-hotness of our first weekend, things hadn’t exactly cooled, but with the long-distance thing, we were both trying hard to maintain the pretense that this was casual. His focus when not with me was his work and trying to get a seat before Congress to keep our National Parks system thriving as the current administration continued to slash funding.

  We were trying to figure out something fun to do at the end of July, some way to escape the heat for a couple of days.

  “I have some ideas, let me look into and call you later,” he said.

  “OK, sounds good,” I said.

  “I love you babe,” he said. The words dripped from his lips as if he had said them a thousand times before.

  "I love you too." I said, the smile on my face visible in my voice.

  We hung up not acknowledging the significance of what just happened, maybe we didn't need to.

  My phone rang again in less than 60 seconds.

  "I really do," he said softly as I answered.

  "Good, me too." Well, so much for casual.

  --------------

  He got word that he was going to have his session before Congress in the fall before everything shut down. And he wanted me there. His work was starting to gain some media attention certainly not hindered by his looks. Out of a suit he looked like nothing like a lawyer, and in it, well, he was stunning.and at 6-4 he commanded the attention of every room he entered.

  As the hearings drew near, I realized stupidly I had nothing appropriate to wear to be on his arm and potentially on camera before the media.

  "We are a very casual office and I just…"

  He laughed. "You and my credit card can go shopping when you get here."

  I hated that I couldn't fund this on my own, but he didn't bat an eye. He handed over the Amex. “Try to keep it under five figures,” he quipped.

  “Oh good God if I can't do that...”

  “Get what you want, but this is D.C., nothing is cheap...you might want to remember a coat too...I won't be freaked out by high four figures." He kissed me.

  “I feel like this is my version of Pretty Woman or something,” I laughed. I stopped caring about clothes decades ago. But there was still the girl in me excited about the prospect of buying a few very nice things to play dress-up with my suddenly very important boyfriend. I also knew I needed help in this department.

  “Hi Meredith, you interested in doing some shopping with a Centurion Amex Card?”

  “Oh my! Things with Mr. Hunky Ticket-Buyer must be going well!”

  I got a cocoa brown 3/4 sleeve sheath dress, dark gray pinstriped shirt dress, black pencil skirt and a red one with a pair of white silk blouses. Tall leather high-heeled boots and black pumps and red ones. And a camel colored wide-collared trench coat.

  And in Pretty Woman fashion, I bought a couple of ties for him and planned to be wearing only that when he arrived home, but I was just hanging my things in the closet when he surprisingly walked in the door.

  “I didn't expect you until late.”

  “I still have some reading I want to do, but I'd much rather do that sitting next to you than in my office,” he pressed his stubbly lips against my cheek.

  “Mmm, excellent answer,” I reached up and touched his face and kissed him.

  I made dinner, he changed into sweats and a long-sleeve t and plopped on the couch to re-read and edit his opening statement for probably the 100th time. I sat on the opposite end of the couch reading the statement as he passed pages to me. It was awesome. A really good read. As he handed me the final page, he started to grab the first one again and I stopped him.

  “Nope,” I took it from his hand. He raked his hand through his hair. “Let's go to bed, you need rest more than you need to read this again.”

  He agreed and then gave me a wicked grin. “You think we're really going to rest?”

  We hadn't seen each other in a couple of weeks and he had been at work when I arrived. With everything going on, we had barely kissed since I had gotten here.

  I could tell the sky was just starting to lighten when his fingers began absentmindedly playing in my hair. He was awake. His mind was racing. He was willing himself not to get up yet.

  “I'm awake,” I whispered.

  “Sorry,” he said. “You don't need to be.”

  I rolled over on top of him and looked into his eyes. He smiled, brushed my hair back and kissed me. “You got this,” I said. “This is your day.”

  He smiled again, wrapped his arms around me and rolled over on top of me...we made love, slowly and quietly and he held me against his chest for a while before making his way to the shower.

  I opted for the brown dress and red pumps today. I had given him a red tie with the small black feathers and gold dots on it. It was the one he picked for today.

  He did a double-take as I exited the bedroom.

  “Wow,” he said.

  “Right back at ya,” I smiled.

  My 3-inch heels only got me marginally closer to his chin, but it was still a fun change.

  He had called a car-service for this. We sat in the back, his hand resting on my thigh, my hand on his hand as he looked out the window quietly. When the car came to a stop. He squeezed my hand and took a deep breath.

  “I'm really glad you're here,” he said as the door opened. “Here we go.” he winked and helped me out into the blazing sun. He held my hand as we walked down the block toward the handful of cameras waiting, not just for us, but his was the biggest news of the day. He politely waved and declined to talk until after. His dad appeared seemingly out of nowhere and slipped in next to us taking a seat next to me.

  Watching him, listening to him was mesmerizing. He was calm, collected, engaging, had an answer for everything they threw at him. He was never defensive, never stumbled on his words, yet his passion was clear and ever present and he did not sound scripted. He may say he's not a politician. But he was made for this.

  Suddenly I started to feel like an imposter. This man’s brain operates on an entirely different level than mine. I went to interior design school. I can’t talk politics. I know how to file a personal injury claim for a plaintiff in state circuit court. But this, these laws and referendums and history he was citing. This was way over my head. My heart started pounding. It’s only a matter of time before he realizes this and dumps me.

  At the end of the day, several questions were asked that he did not have research in front of him to back up, but he knew where it was. He said if they would be willing to let him speak again the next day, he would have their answers.

  “We could give you more time than that.”

  “I don't need it,” he said without an ounce of bravado. Eyebrows were raised and they agreed.

  He packed his things into his briefcase and spoke to his two associates seated in the front row behind him. Then he looked over at me, raised his eyebrows and gave me a little smile. Something in those final questions meant something to him, something very good. At the very least it meant he was being heard.

&nb
sp; “I'm in for a bit of a long evening,” he said as we got into the car and he asked to be taken to his office. “You OK just hanging at home?”

  I smiled inwardly at the 'home' reference, but the demons in my head were swirling around madly. He was way out of my league. “Of course,” I said. This is what I do. I call it self-preservation, but in reality it’s a ridiculous pattern and it does not prevent any pain.

  ---------------

  I heard keys in the door as I was folding my things and putting them into my duffle bag.

  “Hey, you’re early…” I stopped just at the top of the staircase. It was not Joel.

  The face that peered up the staircase at me was attached to a very tall blond wearing a trench coat, high heels and not much else from what I could glean when she let the coat fall open.

  “Oh, hi,” she said, not at all perturbed by my presence.

  “Who are you?” I asked, heart pounding up into my skull.

  “I’m Kaitlyn, on paper I’m the ex-wife,” she cooed. “In reality, I’m the one he calls when he needs urges taken care of by a real woman.”

  “And he called you tonight?” I said, my heart shattering all over the floor, even though my head was trying to shout, she has to be lying.

  “Well, no. I just figured after the day’s events, we could share in his accomplishments together. But I see he has that taken care of for tonight.”

  I said nothing. I just stood my ground.

  “No worries honey, you enjoy yourself, just don’t think he’s going to settle down with you. Joel will always return to his first love. He always does, every few months.”

  I had no witty retort. Every few months? Had he been with her since we started seeing each other? I just stood there dumbfounded. She had a key. She never shared this house with him. He bought it after their divorce. Yet, she had a key.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  JOEL

  I’ll never be sorry that I met you, but I can’t give you what you need, you deserve so much more than me. Knock them dead tomorrow, I know you will.

  Natalie

  I read the note several hundred times it seems searching for answers that weren’t there. My chest physically ached from the knife she had stabbed into my heart. What had I missed? This had come from nowhere.

  I paced around the bedroom, then thought to check the closet. The clothes she had bought remained in the closet. A sign she was coming back. No. More likely she felt they weren’t really hers to take.

  As I made my way downstairs my heartache and sadness quickly shifted to anger. The most important week of my career and she dumps me in the middle of it with a note! A cryptic note no less. Maybe I didn’t know her as well as I thought. But I deserved answers, real ones and in person! Jesus this is the behavior of 20-year-old, not a 40-year-old.

  I grabbed my phone, looked her up in my contacts and wavered between calling her and then doing the other childish thing, deleting her. Instead I just tossed the phone across the room where it skidded off the table and clattered onto the hard wood floors.

  “Shit!” I screamed. In less than 8 hours I would be back in front of Congress. I can’t do this now. I held onto the anger because that kept the searching questions at bay. “How dare she do this to me!”

  -----------

  I hoped it wasn’t as obvious on the outside that I hadn’t slept as it was deep in my bones. I gave my dad a brief shake of the head to deter his questioning look. He squeezed my shoulder. I took a deep breath and got on with the business at hand.

  ------------

  I knew she wouldn’t answer the phone, but I hit the button anyway. I called twice and then rejoined my dad and associates to celebrate what we deemed to be a very successful week.

  Another relatively sleepless night. I rolled over and got a whiff of the sweet citrus of her hair lingering on the pillow. My heart seized. I gave up on sleep and crawled out of bed looking out the windows at the driving rain and howling wind.

  I know she won’t answer my call, but I know someone who will. I waited until 7:00 am and called Olivia.

  “Joel, I’m sorry. She does this, she feels like she isn’t worthy and she either bails of finds other ways to sabotage things before she gets hurt. She will call it self-preservation. I told her I thought it was different this time, but then when your ex-wife showed up…”

  “What?”

  “Your ex-wife showed up, she apparently had a key and waltzed right in.”

  “Holy fuck, that bitch…pardon me…there is a reason she is an ex…God dammit! Thank you, Olivia.”

  “Joel, she won’t make this easy...”

  “She’s worth it,” I said cutting her off.

  I called my assistant, Maggie, no longer paying attention to the time. “Maggie, I need a personal favor, please.”

  “Of course, anything hon,” Maggie had actually worked for my dad and then for me while I worked for my dad and then she followed me to my firm. She knew more about me than anyone, maybe even my dad.

  “I need a locksmith over here right now. Every single lock needs to be changed and I want the security system completely redone. I would make these calls myself but I have something else to deal with.”

  “Oh my sweetie, what has happened?”

  “Kaitlyn. Kaitlyn happened.”

  ------------------

  The restaurant would be getting slammed at this hour and that’s fine. I needed to make sure I had plenty of witnesses for this little chat. I drove over to the little café I’d given her as the divorce settlement. To her credit she had turned it into the place to go for breakfast, lunch and Sunday brunch and kept it thriving for more than a decade. No small feat for a restaurant in Georgetown.

  I did not enter quietly and every head turned when I busted into the door, the bells slamming against the heavy wooden door and reverberating around the room bouncing off the brick walls and tile ceilings. I barely recognized the fury building within me. I’d never had the desire to hit anyone, much less a woman, as much as I wanted to smack the smug smile off of Kaitlyn’s face.

  “Joel,” she said.

  “How dare you?”

  “What on earth has you so worked up? Let’s go in the back.” Her eyes were sparkling.

  “NO! We do this right here.” I shouted. I stood close enough to feel her body breathing against mine. “You are NEVER to come to my house uninvited, EVER!” I clenched my jaw and felt my hands clench into fists.

  “Ah, did your little bimbo of the moment not appreciate your wife stopping by?”

  “My EX wife. EX wife Kaitlyn. Stay out of my house and out of my life. We all know the reason you suddenly stopped by, I finally put myself under that spotlight you crave so much and you can’t stand that. You wanted it so badly when we were married and now I’m what this town is talking about and you aren’t included in the conversation. Maybe you should have thought about that before you hopped into bed with my brother.”

  Her smile finally vanished and found its way to my lips.

  I swung my arm out and swept the neatly placed flower-filled vases along the bar crashing onto the floor as I strolled out. Completely out of character for me, but damn it felt good.

  The weather had not changed. If anything, the conditions were deteriorating and I knew the answer before I asked, but I called Brian anyway.

  “I’d love to Joel, but we are grounded for at least a few more hours as this N’oreaster blows through. Do you want me to call when I can get clearance?”

  “Nope, I’ll drive. I can’t put this off any longer.”