“Well, now your boy has his pick of DA offices in the country.”
I glance back to see Reed’s gaze on me as I leave the courtroom with Pete. I want to raise my hand, but I follow his instructions and tuck my head down, leaving without acknowledging him.
“What are you talking about? And would you please call him by his name instead of ‘my boy,’ it’s getting old.”
Pete follows me outside. Like Mother Earth knew it’d be a day to celebrate, the sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and people are littered across the courtyard enjoying the weather, ignorant to what just happened in that courtroom.
“You think after winning this case, he’s going to stay an assistant district attorney, emphasis on ‘assistant?’”
“He doesn’t want to go into the private sector. Not everyone is a money grubber.”
“That money grubber supports our daughter. Well, I may add.” He lights up a cigarette.
“Fifteen feet rule,” I singsong and he takes a few giant steps away from the front doors.
That’s the difference. Reed follows the rules while Pete disregards them.
“People are going to want him, Vic, he won’t be in Chicago long.” He pats me on my back, smoking his cigarette and heads to a taxi. “See you tomorrow night.”
He flicks the cigarette to his side and a woman screams at him since it almost hit her. He ignores her and gets into the cab probably instructing the driver to run her over.
Why is Pete always like the cloud on an otherwise beautiful day?
Chapter Thirty
Hannah has been so understanding. Needing a day to regroup, I took off Jade’s birthday because not only do I have to make her the grumpy cat cake she requested, but I’m just not in the mood to deal with people. Especially after Pete’s comment about Reed not staying in Chicago. It’s been eating at me since the words left his lips.
“This is cute.” My mom comes in and sits on the breakfast stool, turning the picture and directions toward her.
“I’m pretty sure Moe is her inspiration.”
“He is a grump.”
“You think?”
She watches me for a few minutes, as I add the eggs and oil into the box mix and whisk it together.
“How are things with Reed?” she asks.
The doorbell rings and I crinkle my eyebrows at my mom. Neither of us are expecting anyone and I swear if it’s Pete, my mom might drop kick him on the spot.
She walks to the door and opens it.
“You must be Mama Clarke.”
Chelsea.
“Chelsea, right?” My mom laughs knowing she got it right from the way I’ve described my co-worker.
I wipe my hands on a dishcloth and walk to the doorway between the rooms, spotting Hannah there, too. They each hold colorful gift bags stuffed with tissue paper.
“I’m Hannah.” She puts out her hand for my mom, but my mom pulls her into a hug.
“This is an unexpected surprise,” she says to both of them. “Are those for Jade?”
“We’re crashing the birthday shindig and just note, we’re highly offended we weren’t invited.” Chelsea points to me.
“I didn’t think—”
“You thought wrong. We love that girl, too.” Hannah comes to my side. “And we love you. Since when do you need a personal day?” She tilts her head. “You can’t come to us, we come to you.”
She holds out her arms and I step into them hugging her body to mine.
“Don’t forget me.” Chelsea runs over and the three of us are in a huddle.
“I feel left out,” my mom jokes.
“Come on, Mama Clarke.” Chelsea waves her hand and my mom comes over.
By the time we all part, they look at me like they’re waiting for instructions.
“You want to help with her cake?” I ask.
“Not really. Do you have any wine?” Hannah asks. “Sorry, but you don’t want my help. Trust me.”
“I’ve got wine.”
They follow me into the kitchen, my mom playing hostess and me finishing the cakes by putting them in the oven to bake.
“So, why the personal day?” Chelsea asks, sipping her wine.
“I was just asking her about Reed,” my mom chimes in.
“Something happen?” Hannah asks like she’d be heartbroken if it did.
I wipe down the counter where I was working. “No, we’re good. It’s just that big case he won.”
“I saw him on the news. The camera doesn’t add ten pounds to him that’s for sure.” Chelsea waggles her eyebrows my way over the rim of her wine glass.
“Isn’t it a good thing that he won? He gets to keep his job,” Hannah jokes.
“Or move to a different city. He’s the assistant district attorney and Pete seems to think he’ll get offers to be a district attorney and probably not in Chicago.”
“Fuck what Pete thinks,” Chelsea says, immediately covering her mouth after and looking toward my mom. “Sorry.”
My mom waves her off. “My sentiments exactly, Chelsea.”
Hannah falls back to her seat. “Oh. Well, that’s not good.”
“Have you talked to him?” my mom asks.
I mix the frosting because I want to do anything but think of this thing between us ending before it really gets started.
“No.”
“Then why are you so upset? Ask the man.” My mom talks like she’s one of the girls and inside I smirk. It’s good to see her vibrant.
My phone buzzes with a text and Chelsea slides it my way.
“I’ll finish that.” She comes behind the mixer. “Relax, I grew up with a big family who doesn’t eat store-bought anything.”
I smile and head down the hall for some privacy.
Reed: What time did you want us tonight?
Me: Whenever. I’m just making her cake and I’m going to order pizza.
Reed: Want some help? I’m about to leave work for the day.
I look at the time. It’s only one.
Me: Chelsea, Hannah and my mom are here.
Reed: So, I’d be invading girl time?
Me: No, you can come. I have some manly stuff I need done.
Reed: I do like when you make use of my manly skills.
Me: I need some grab bars installed in the bath.
Reed: Not what I had in mind, but I’ll be over soon.
Me: Okay and I’m kidding about the grab bars.
I head back into the kitchen, stuffing my phone in my back pocket. “I feel like the party is about to start without Jade.”
Chelsea already has one batch of cream frosting done and she’s on to the chocolate.
“Um, who are you? Betty Crocker?” I ask.
She shrugs. “I told you, big family.”
“Well then, I’ll work on the fondant face.” I sip my wine. “Reed’s coming over.”
All six eyes land on me.
“Talk to him.” Hannah pats my hand. “No need getting upset over nothing.”
“You’re a sensible woman,” my mom says.
“Not when it comes to the silver fox,” Chelsea adds, and I almost spit out my wine.