Our mouths meet again for more kisses. I pour everything into those kisses, all my love and devotion and reverence for her and for her sweet optimism and idealism and loyalty.
A while later, she murmurs, “I have something else for you.”
“Oh yeah. Let’s move to the bedroom.”
She gives me a tap. “Not that. Well, not yet. Hold on, you horny hockey player.”
I laugh as she gets up and walks over to where she left her purse. She returns with a small box wrapped in Christmas paper. “I got you this for Christmas. I couldn’t return it, so…” She hands it to me.
I turn it over in my hands. “Should I open it?”
“Sure.”
I peel open the paper, then lift the lid off the tiny box to reveal a pair of silver cuff links. I lift one to study it and I see Otis’s tiny face. “Oh, man!” My gaze shoots up to hers. “It’s Otis!”
She clears her throat. “Yeah. They made them from a picture I had of him.”
Heat radiates through my chest. “They’re perfect.” I cough, because my damn throat is squeezing up. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I, uh, actually have a Christmas present for you too.”
“You do?”
“I bought it in California. When we were on our road trip there. So I can’t return it either. I’ll get it.”
I truck into the bedroom and dig the small box out of my dresser drawer. I return and hand it to her. “I never wrapped it, sorry.”
She takes it hesitantly. The box is about the same size as the one she gave me. She opens it and peers down. “Oh.” She touches her fingertips to her lips, then lifts the pendant necklace. The small diamond-encrusted charm dangles on a silver chain—the charm shaped like a dog paw print.
She closes her eyes and her face gets pink like she’s trying not to cry. Then she draws in a breath through her nose, opens her eyes, which shine, and smiles. “Thank you. I love it.”
“I just want you to be happy.” I pause. “And naked.”
She laughs. “Okay, let’s go get naked.”
Chapter 23
Lilly
“One point five million dollars.”
I hear that number. Is that for real? I look at Ruth, my lawyer, sitting next to me in the courtroom. She nods and smiles.
The jury has found in the plaintiff’s favor—that’s me!—and has awarded me one point five million dollars in damages.
And then, even better, they’ve ruled that Lexington Resorts has to make changes to their policies and procedures that will prevent this from happening in the future.
I close my eyes. And I start to cry.
That’s what this was about. I could have had their offer months ago and walked away. This is what I wanted.
And I’m so, so relieved it’s over. The trial was stressful and exhausting. I hated reliving not only my experiences at Lexington and how I was treated, but how my life changed after that. It was humiliating telling the world about my depression and debt, my inability to find a job, and the loss of my relationship. The trial lasted just over a week, and then we only had to wait two days for the jury to make their decision.
It’s done now, and I can move on.
I can give Grammy money to make up for what she lost and pay a lawyer to get her out of the scammy time-share she bought into. I can pay back my parents and Carlin, pay off my loan. I can give a big donation to the animal shelter. I can pay for Carlin’s freakin’ wedding!
And…I’ll have enough to start the doggie daycare business I want to open. Penelope and I have talked more about it and she’s all in. We even found a space for it, which is perfect but which I never thought we’d be able to afford. It’s on the main floor of the apartment building where Igor and Nadia Barbashev live, where Loki is already my client along with another recent addition to my dog roster. It’s the perfect location for dog walking and daycare and grooming, with nearby parks and all the professionals living in that area.
Ruth hugs me and I collect myself. I turn, finding Easton sitting behind me. He’s grinning hugely and I smile back at him. He’s been here as much as he can, supporting me through the trial and then while waiting for the verdict. I could have done it without him. But I’m so, so glad I didn’t have to.
We rise as the judge leaves and the courtroom begins to empty. I make my way over to Easton and leap into his arms. He squeezes me so tightly I almost can’t breathe, but I love it. I bury my face in the side of his neck and a sob rises in my throat.
“You’re okay,” he whispers, stroking my hair. “You’re okay.”
“Yes. I am. Oh my God, Easton.”
“I know. You did so good, baby. So good. You were so strong. So brave.”
He’s been my rock and my anchor. My home. My love.
And I’ve been there for him, because he’s also been going through some shit.
A few days after the investigation into Tim Simmons’s behavior, he publicly acknowledged that he had indeed used a racial slur against Jamal…and he resigned.
After that happened, things kind of exploded. Other players from all over the league came forward with their own stories of abuse, by Tim Simmons but also other coaches, and it pushed the league to work on a new code of coaching conduct.
I was bursting with pride and love for Easton. And he’s been playing better than ever. As of right now they’re in a playoff spot, and there are trade rumors heating up about some changes they might make to help their chances.
We leave the courthouse, emerging into a freakin’ blizzard. Snow is blowing and swirling in the sharp wind, tugging at my coat and scarf as we make our way through downtown streets to the parking garage where Easton left his car. I’m breathless by the time I’m seated in his car but still jubilant, and I start laughing.
Easton starts the engine and grins at me. “Want to go for a celebration lunch?”
I shake my head. “No. I want to go home. I mean, to your place.” His place feels like home to me. “You have a game tonight. You need to nap.”
His eyes darken. “Ah. That’s how you want to celebrate. A ‘nap.’ ” He makes air quotes and smirks.
I lean over to kiss him. “Yes. It is. I want you.”
“Hmm. I want you too.” He smooches my lips softly. “I want us.” Another kiss. “I want it all.” Kiss. “With you.” He meets my eyes. “Only you.”