A Man To Count On

“You can’t come out here.” She didn’t need a mirror to know she looked like death warmed over, the last of her makeup just washed off, her eyes bloodshot from strain as much as from fighting tears the entire day. Dylan would be a dangerous mix of gentle strength and undeniable masculinity. Too tempting.

“All right. Not tonight…if you’ll promise to have a hot bath and go to bed. Whether you sleep or not, your body needs to stop,” he continued as though sensing her protest coming. “You’re too exhausted to reason clearly. You’re aware of that, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Good. We can debate things further tomorrow if you insist, as long as you understand that I am serious about being there for you. Try not to file that away under D for denial, okay?”

“Getting Mount Rushmore’s support could be a coup,” she said, feeling a need to give him some ground.

“Who were you considering to handle your divorce? Or do you see the potential for reconciliation?”

E.D. almost choked. “That’s not remotely funny.”

“Stranger things have happened,” he said with no inflection whatsoever.

“Well, it won’t here.”

The anger in her voice made her wince, but on the heels of that rushed certainty: her marriage had been suffering for a good while. She’d been delaying looking at the possible reasons, aware that inevitably she’d contributed to some of the problems between her and Trey. But his conduct was offsetting any guilt she had been willing to accept.

“Have you heard of Alyx Carmel?” she asked. “She’s risen to be one of the best divorce attorneys in the South.” And as luck would have it, they’d belonged to the same sorority at UT. E.D. hoped that would help her to negotiate some financial compromises as she worked out her financial bird’s nest.

“I’ve heard of her,” Dylan replied. “Didn’t she win a tough suit a few months ago for some widow-real estate heiress?”

“Benton versus Benton, that’s right. The stepkids were so power hungry they attempted to even dig into assets derived by the stepmother’s first husband.”

“Unusual. There wasn’t a trust? Those are difficult to invade.”

“That bottom line fell just below the requirements. And thanks to the new and ferocious generation of legal minds, many previously solid wills are considered breakable.”

Dylan sighed. “Dare I hope you don’t have to navigate those tricky waters?”

“Who knows what else Trey has up his sleeve? Let’s just say that imagining the attorney fees reminds me that I’m in the wrong side of this business.”

“Your problem is that you were never a bottom line person, though I must admit it’s another thing I admire about you. After you talk to Mount Rushmore, call me.”

“All right.” E.D. wanted him to know one thing. “You’re wonderful, you know that?”

Before he could reply she disconnected.

Energized by his support, she reached for her cell phone.

Chapter Three

E.D. waited for the phone to start ringing. Dylan was right; she was the wronged party and she knew of no judge who would look into this situation and not wonder, “Why?”

Almost immediately Trey came on the line with a curt, “You shouldn’t be harassing me.”

E.D. opened her mouth to define exactly what harassment he deserved, then considered that he might have a recording device handy. Editing herself, she replied, “It’s barely past eight, Trey, and you know we have things to discuss. But first I’d like to speak to the kids.”

“You know how restraining orders read. You can’t.”

“How you managed that I don’t know, but understand this, you are doing more damage than you can imagine.”

“I’m only protecting my daughter and son.”

“Our children, Trey. And you know damned well I know nothing about this mess with Dani. If anyone should, it’s you, since you see her more than I do.”

“How long does it take to negligently sign something she shoves under your nose?”

His condescension made her empty stomach burn. “I told you last night that I did nothing of the kind, and when that hack photographer is ordered to produce my signature in court, your apology won’t be enough. The fact that you so easily believe him over me is beyond insulting.”

“I believe my daughter.”

That was what had made her physically sick earlier, the assertion that Dani supposedly claimed E.D. had signed the document. Tonight, she was desperate to determine why her child would say such a thing. “She couldn’t possibly have said that.”

“Oh, stop pretending. You haven’t been a wife or mother in longer than any of us can remember. I had no choice but to conclude you were so preoccupied with your career that you’d approve anything just not to be bothered.”

E.D. cringed. She had shortchanged her kids due to her workload. But unlike her kids, Trey had no business judging her. “Has the reason for that crossed your mind? How else are the bills to be paid? We can’t both sit at home and languish in a fantasy world.”

“Smart move insulting my misfortune.”

“Dani is the only victim in this house. No one owes you a writing career. Either you produce something people want to read, or you face reality and get a day job like everyone else. The kids are old enough to manage on their own an hour or two after school. Good grief, with Dani’s dance lessons three times a week, she’s already under adult supervision.”

After a slight pause, Trey taunted, “Want to go for the full strikeout?”

His smug tone was inflaming her long-repressed resentment and E.D. could barely contain herself. If only she’d put her foot down sooner. If only she’d listened to the small voice in her head warning her that if she waited too long, her marriage would be a weight that could sink her in more ways than one. Hindsight was going to prove as bitter a pill as the rest.

Drawing a deep breath, she forced herself to ask calmly, “At least tell me if Dani ate something today?”

“She tried, she couldn’t keep anything down.”

Her poor baby. “Please call Dr. Warren if things aren’t better tomorrow. What about Mac? How’s his asthma? He was pretty upset after he heard us last night.” E.D. had come home late yet again and at first had assumed all was well and that the kids were in their rooms doing homework or visiting with friends. Within minutes that assumption had been shattered, and by the time Trey had stormed off to bed, it was obvious that all of their lives were changing forever.

His silence brought her attention back to the present. “I’ll hold. Please go check on him. Do it, Trey.”

After another hesitation, Trey muttered, “Okay.”

His acquiescence surprised and worried her. Did this mean he’d not seen Mac for hours and only now remembered him? Their son was the true introvert, a quiet soul who could get lost in his projects and painstaking study forgetting everything including the need to breathe.

“He’s fine.”

Startled at Trey’s abrupt bark, E.D. took a second to regroup. “He has his inhaler? There haven’t been any episodes?”

“I said he’s fine. Don’t start acting like I don’t know what I’m doing. Everyone in the neighborhood knows that I’ve been holding down the fort for years. Now if you’ll excuse me—”

“Trey, wait!” E.D. hated the sound of desperation in her voice, but she hadn’t nearly covered all that she wanted to. “Just do me the courtesy of answering one or two more questions. Please.”

“What?” he snapped.

E.D. wrapped her free arm around her waist. The ache there warned her that if she didn’t reduce the stress and intense emotions in her life, she would soon be fighting an ulcer. “Has that Web site you mentioned that has Dani’s pictures on it been shut down?”

“Uh…I don’t know.”

What did he mean he didn’t know? “Every hour it’s up has to be an unbearable humiliation for her, Trey.”

“I’ve been busy!”

Doing what? Figuring his options after he finished taking her to the cleaners? “What do the police say? Have you hired someone to take on this photographer? If you haven’t, please don’t. I’m working on—”

“It’s too late for you to try to insinuate yourself into this,” Trey interjected. “You’ve done enough damage.”

E.D. barely held back an expletive. Insinuate? Dani had acted with lightning speed on this modeling opportunity and had ignored their one conversation where E.D. had voiced her reservations and refusal to commit without more information and a meeting with the photographer.

“Just give me the Web site address,” she pleaded.

“I don’t know it offhand. Do you think I have the stomach to look at it?”

“Take an antacid because the longer you allow it to stay up, the more perverts and testosterone-flooded schoolboys will be drooling over our daughter.”

“I didn’t say—it’s being looked into,” he amended sullenly.

“By whom? Damn it, give me names. That’s what my office is for!”

Instead Trey hung up on her.

Breathless, impotent with fury, E.D. stared at the dead phone. Last night when he’d declared their marriage was over and that she was to blame for Dani’s troubles, she’d been too dumbstruck and horrified for her daughter to really take in what was about to happen. Today with the restraining order and the appearance of her luggage, he’d humiliated her. She’d stood by and taken it, mostly because she had a case to finish, but nonetheless, she’d done nothing thinking it was all a bad dream that could somehow be worked through for the sake of the kids. But this…this set her free.

Dylan was right in his thinking. First thing in the morning, she was cutting her husband loose and going on the offensive on behalf of her daughter…and for herself.

Trey better find the common sense he hadn’t shown yet and get out of her way.

Chapter Four

“You’re kind to fit me into your schedule.” E.D. smiled at Ivan Priestly as he beckoned her across the patio of his home toward an umbrella-covered table. It was only hours after she’d called him on this Thursday morning, and she still couldn’t believe that he had not only agreed to meet with her, he’d invited her to lunch. Easing down onto the white wrought-iron chair he drew out for her, she wondered if this, too, was somehow Dylan’s doing? She hoped not. Gratitude aside, her wounded self-esteem needed to believe her reputation as well as the summary over the phone had convinced this icon in their legion of her worthiness.

Smaller built and frailer than she’d expected, the famous litigator suavely took his time taking his seat to her left, which shrewdly kept his back to the sun. She noticed the hearing aid in his right ear and wondered if it was fine-tuned to capture soft sighs or to make her grit her teeth if he asked, “Pardon?” once too often because he wanted to get rid of her. She quickly got her answer.

“I have no schedule, my dear. I’m at an age where I take leisure seriously, and no longer need to suffer fools or be nice to boors because it’s politically correct. I had no plans for today except to finally drag out War and Peace and read it in a week as has been recommended.”

E.D. nodded at the tanned grandfather with his shock of white hair that looked as if it hadn’t seen a comb since the last blue northern. “I have heard about your sense of principle, but I’ve never read as much as a whisper that you’re indifferent about anything.”

His laughter held private merriment. “Stay tuned. My detractors will have plenty to say when my ashes are thrown to the wind. In the meantime, you’re right, the cunning remain like hyenas in the shadows and call their conduct circumspect.” He gestured to the glass-topped table laden with beautiful china, fruit, a seafood salad and crackers. “Will you pour the tea? I miss my wife spoiling me and I’m sorry to say a neurological condition makes me too unsteady to do it without embarrassing us both.”

She had noted his subtle trembling and immediately reached for the elegant teapot trimmed in what had to be eighteen-karat gold. “Should I leave extra room for milk?”

“No, I drink mine as is, thanks.”

“Ah, a purist.”

“More like a doctor’s senior nurse nipping at me like a rabid terrier to cut calories and cholesterol.” Sighing, Ivan sat back in his chair and studied her. “I won’t pretend any longer—I’m intrigued with your dilemma.”

E.D. glanced into his wise, gray eyes and thought she saw sympathy as much as curiosity, even for a privileged child of a successful prosecutor. “I know my daughter’s situation suggests an outrageous negligence.”

“Which on first and second glance appears so incredibly unlike you, that I didn’t easily accept it as a possibility. If anything, I see you carrying over your meticulous work patterns to where you should be a borderline suffocating mom.”

She accepted his deduction with a nod that felt like an apology. “I may have ended up so, except for a life decision or two along my way.” Such as whom she had chosen to marry and the demands of her job that made family often come second, whether she liked it or not. Perhaps marrying Trey had been something of a rebellion, but it had also been liberating. If so, though, she was paying—would be paying—a hefty price.

“Indeed. Which is why I suspected immediately that you’re not part of this situation at all—unless you’re the most foolish person ever to pass the bar, let alone become Emmett Garner’s pride and joy. Since neither seems likely, it suggests a third intention more distasteful.”

Momentarily lost in her thoughts, E.D. struggled. “Excuse me?”

“I’m wondering if you’ve been set up to carry someone else’s guilt.”

Hours after the first blow, she’d begun to wonder much the same, but she hadn’t yet managed to convince herself as to the why.

“Yes,” he murmured studying her, “and the who is key. Stick to a narrow field.”

“If my husband signed something using my name and is trying to hide it, my daughter would tell me.” She would, wouldn’t she? E.D. thought with less confidence than before. Naturally, Dani had her own moments of rebellion, but there’d been nothing so negative between them to warrant any behavior like this.

“I’m not saying this is representative of your situation, but my granddaughter recently got caught in such a serious fib on behalf of a friend to where she’s now going to miss out on a class trip she’d greatly looked forward to and that has considerable educational impact.”

As his words registered, E.D. focused only on the message behind it. “You’re not going to make me go through more of an emotional wringer. You’re going to take my case.”

Ivan smiled as he lifted his teacup. “I hope you get some rest before your next case, Counselor.”

“That’s unlikely, but I’ll do my best.” E.D. could barely contain herself to speak the rest of her mind. “Dare I ask what else you are thinking?”

“I’m wondering why your husband was so quick to accept your guilt?”

E.D.’s pride had to take another blow. “Our marriage has expired from neglect. It’s embarrassing to admit, but a fact I can’t deny.”

“Was that decision one-sided?”

“No, we were equally responsible.” Worse than that confession, she was realizing she no longer cared, either.

“I’m simply wondering if it’s feasible that he would enjoy seeing you suffering some public ridicule?” he continued.

He already had. Hopefully, it was enough. “Whatever impulses he experiences, he’s not stupid. He has no income and needs my support. Ruin my career and he risks losing that comfort zone.”

Ivan looked momentarily uncomfortable. “He suffers from a handicap of some sort?”

“You mean because he doesn’t keep a day job himself? Only a lack of talent—he’s an unsuccessful writer.” As soon as the words were out, E.D. grimaced. “I’m sorry. It’s too soon for me not to swan dive into bitterness.”

“Understandable. How long has he been pursuing this goal of his?”

“For virtually all of our married life.”

Ivan Priestly coughed behind his linen napkin. “It strikes me that you’ve been extremely tolerant, Ms. Martel. Who’s your divorce attorney?”

“I have a dinner meeting tonight with Alyx Carmel.” Noting his startled reaction, E.D. pressed, “You don’t approve?”

“On the contrary, I’ve never met her. But from what I’ve seen and heard…her approach seems to go against your grain.”

“Well, from where I’m sitting, my grain doesn’t seem to have been serving me very well, has it?”

As she left the Priestly residence, E.D. remained lost in a maze of wonder and inspiration. Ivan was remarkable and he’d not only boosted her ego, he’d raised her optimism and buffeted her fighting instincts. Energized as she drove down the avenue back toward her office, she did a double take at the black Navigator that was heading in the opposite direction. Dylan? She hit her brakes and saw him cut a sharp U-turn on the otherwise empty street. He then passed her, signaling her to follow him.

Two turns later, she found herself at a small, woodsy park that was virtually empty. Bemused, she watched as he exited his vehicle and, when she released the passenger door lock, slipped into the seat beside her.

“At the risk of appearing like a stalker,” he began, “I came up with two free hours and wanted to see if you were still with Ivan.”

He looked elegant and smelled even better, his navy-blue suit intensifying the deep blue of his eyes. At the same time, she was dismayed that he’d ignored her plea and had taken this risk. “What if someone followed you, or me for that matter?”

“You give me far too much credit for being newsworthy. As for you, I didn’t see anyone back there, did you?”

“No.” E.D. checked again, though, and then came up with another concern. “You weren’t planning to come in, were you? What would Ivan have said? He’s admitted he’s sympathetic to my case, but I doubt he would be if you appeared. He’d likely reinvent math.”

Looking wholly nonplussed, Dylan replied, “I wouldn’t care…would you?”

What was he saying? How could he say that?

She had to stop jumping to conclusions. He was just being a truly lovely and caring friend. “Ivan has agreed to represent me,” she said going for the safest response.

“Good man!”

“I’m so grateful—and he was wonderful. Dignified, yet concerned and compassionate.” Like the man who’d first come to her aid.

“Ah, E.D., I’m so relieved for you.”

“Thanks.” Immeasurably glad to see him on the heels of this news, she tried and almost failed to keep emotion locked in her throat and had to look away.

Dylan tenderly brushed the back of his fingers against her jawline. “It’s been a helluva couple of days for you.”

Couldn’t he tell it was the mere sight of him that was turning her to mush? That the way he was looking at her tempted her to release her seat belt and throw herself into his arms? She was a married woman being carried at white-water-rapids speed into an ugly divorce and he was a professional friend—more mentor than friend—and fast becoming the dearest personal one. No, it couldn’t happen with his future in such important transition.

“Well, I’d better get a grip. Emmett wouldn’t take seeing me getting emotional.” While she spoke out loud, the words were a warning for her alone.

“He’s not here. And you’re not on the clock—or he should cut you some slack all things considered.”

Even his voice was a husky caress. Heaven help her. “I need to act as though I am.”

“You’ve been dealt back-to-back emotional and psychological blows. I’d be concerned if you did succeed in behaving like a robot…or an Oscar-caliber actress.”

Drawing a deep breath, E.D. glanced back at him. “Okay, confession time. I am glad to see you.”

“Then my impulse was well worth it. When I first spotted you, I worried you’d keep driving.”

“That would have been inexcusably rude.”

“I’d have understood. You know what your problem is? You don’t know what it’s like to be supported outside of the office.”

They’d never discussed their spouses before except in a cursory reference, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to. “This doesn’t sound like you, Dylan.”

“I apologize for the bad timing, but we play the hand we’re dealt. One door closes, another opens, and all that.”

“What door am I supposed to be to you?”

“Ouch.” He cleared his throat. “I suppose you’re seeing this in the worst possible way.”

She didn’t want to—that was what made this conversation critical because they shouldn’t be having it. Not for some time, if ever. “I apologize if I sound suspicious or ungrateful.”

“You sound gun-shy and scared—which is totally understandable.” Dylan lowered his head a fraction, an old habit due to his height to hold someone’s gaze whether on the bench or in a toe-to-toe conversation. “I simply want you to understand that I’m here for you, E.D.”

She studied him a moment longer then turned away again to digest what she’d taken in. Hoping to slow what was beginning to feel increasingly, intensely, intimate, she added, “I can only imagine what Trey’s reaction will be to Ivan’s suspicions of him. Ivan thinks if Dani didn’t forge my name, Trey did.”

After a slight pause, Dylan asked, “Do you agree?”

“At this point, I suppose nothing should surprise me. But what happened to make either of them willing to do that? To hurt me to protect themselves?”

“You’re sure this isn’t a case of a terrible misunderstanding?”

“Even if it is—which I doubt—what he said and did the other night and yesterday makes excuses an impossibility.” E.D. had to swallow the frozen block wedged in her throat. “No one prepares you for this kind of betrayal, Dylan.”

This time when he reached out, he cupped his hand at her nape beneath her neat chignon. “I can’t imagine.”

“He should have just asked or at least challenged me. I deserved that much. He had to know I would give him the benefit of the doubt if things were reversed.”

“Generous of you to credit him with your sense of logic and fair play.”

E.D. felt another stab that made it all the harder to breathe. “Imagine coming to the realization at this point and position in my career that I don’t know the man anymore. Maybe I never did. What does that say for me as a litigator?”

“I think you should come to the condo. It’s only a few blocks from here.”

Gathering herself, she shook her head enough to encourage him to remove his hand. “Impossible. I have to get back—and you have to stop being so reckless.”

“Determined, not reckless,” he said softly.

E.D. frowned at him. “Dylan, have you had a bad health checkup or something? You’re acting—scary.”

“I’ve never felt more clearheaded in my life.”

She could barely think when he locked those dark blue eyes on hers. “Okay, dare I threaten a gentle censure for some bad timing?”

“You want to hear about timing, Eva Danielle?” Dylan worked her right hand free from the steering wheel to transfer it into his warm grasp. “I’ve been dealing with the results of that for almost twenty years.” He glanced down at her modestly manicured fingernails painted only with clear polish. “I should have followed a gut hunch the moment you extended this hand the night we met.”

Torn between pulling free and tightening her fingers, E.D. all but choked. “Sure. I always have that effect on people. When I got home that night, I found four voice messages from the president, governor and two senators.”

“You didn’t sense I was captivated by you from the moment you welcomed me with that smile?”

“Frankly, no. And my mouth was so dry, it’s a miracle I could speak, while you were kind and patient with everyone who gushed over you.”

Dylan tightened his grasp. “E.D., I was one step away from suggesting we ditch the seminar that night and find a cozy pub booth.”

She wouldn’t, couldn’t, believe it. Oh, she knew he’d admired a smiling blonde but he never could have taken it beyond that. “You had too much professional integrity. Besides, you were engaged to Brenda.”

“And you were seriously dating Trey.”