Durayev rose and dusted his hands. “All clear. I’ll follow you.”
“Do you know the address if we get separated?”
“Don’t worry about that.” Durayev’s expression was inscrutable, so Bryce didn’t ask further questions.
Ciara was right about home being more relaxing than the office. Mrs. McCleary had left chicken Kiev and a salad in the fridge. Durayev ate quickly without saying a word and returned to prowling the house. Bryce finished his delicious meal in lonely silence. He hadn’t been lonely in years, not since he’d met Paul, Roger, and Sean. He didn’t know what had altered in the past few weeks, but something had.
He changed into casual clothes and worked for several hours in his study poring over the evidence looking for some fact he could overlook without Ciara catching it, or some seemingly innocuous piece of evidence that was, in fact, damning. He found plenty that would help the State win its case if he could lose openly. But nothing he could hide from Ciara. She was too good a lawyer. Steele had chosen her well. Bryce could not do anything that Ciara would call to Steele’s attention.
When the doorbell rang, Bryce was ready for a break. His temples throbbed from the strain.
A few moments later, Durayev appeared in the study doorway. “Christian and Gabrielle Ziko are here. I wanted to make sure I should let them in.”
Bryce was surprised the younger Zikos were here. “Of course.” He followed Durayev to the door.
Gabrielle hugged Bryce a little too long. He tried not to stiffen knowing she was psychically reading him.
When she released him, she looked from him to Durayev with a frown.
“Come in and sit down,” Bryce said, to stop her from saying anything in front of the bodyguard.
Christian and Gabrielle settled on the couch in the living room, pressed together from shoulder to knee. Bryce felt a pang of jealousy over the way they seemed to be halves of a whole.
“You’re feeling all right?” Christian asked.
“Fine,” Bryce replied.
“Then why is that man here?” Gabrielle demanded.
“He’s security.”
“He’s not a cop or a Fed.”
“Leave it be, Gabrielle.”
Christian took hold of Gabrielle’s hand and they shared a deep look. Bryce felt shut out even though he knew he would never share with a woman what the two of them shared. He wasn’t psychic. He’d never wanted to be … until now. Until he watched them share a bond so deep no one else could touch it. He’d lived with superficial romantic relationships for too long. Now he wanted someone tuned into his thoughts and his moods in the normal way of people who deeply loved one another, and he wanted to tune into a woman in the same way. It was something his parents hadn’t had, but which Paul Ziko and his wife had shared early in their marriage, and which Christian and Gabrielle shared in spades.
“You’re risking everything, Bryce,” Gabrielle said when she faced him again.
The hair on the back of Bryce’s neck stood on end. He didn’t ask Gabrielle how she knew.
“Some things are worth the risk. You and Christian should understand.” Bryce glanced toward the doorway. The couple followed his gaze. Gabrielle’s eyes widened.
They shared another look and then Christian squeezed Gabrielle’s hand. “We wanted you to know we’re going to have a baby.”
Bryce took the news like a kick in the gut. The couple in front of him blurred unexpectedly and his breath came hard. He might be dead by next week, but the people around him were finding happiness and going forward with their lives and long-range plans.
“Congratulations,” he managed. As his breaths got shorter, he tried to circumvent the oncoming asthma-like attack.
Their blinding, delighted smiles made him feel even smaller and meaner for envying them their joy. They deserved this happiness.
As their excitement bubbled over, Bryce calmed the attack by degrees until he was breathing normally again. He was master of his health, not the ricin damage. Slowly he was able to warm to the younger Zikos’ bliss.
“You’ll be an honorary uncle, of course,” Gabrielle explained.
“Of course.” But Bryce realized he’d rather be a father and hold his own child. He’d rather help mold a son or daughter into a better person than he’d become. He’d like a second chance to be a human, to experience love first-hand, and to return love unstintingly. But time might run out before he could grab another chance to do more with his life.
A picture of Ciara filled his mind as she held one of her nieces. Ciara knew how to love family. She knew how to love period. Whatever reason she was Steele’s tool didn’t strip her humanity from her. She’d been hurt by life like he had. Like him, she was particular about whom she loved. Maybe together … The thought tantalized. If he could find out why she spied for Steele.
“Our son will be born shortly after New Year’s.” Gabrielle looked like the Madonna as she spoke, an appropriate likeness for the occasion.
“You know you’re having a boy?” Bryce asked.
“Gabrielle saw it in a vision,” Christian said.
Bryce was sorely tempted to ask Gabrielle to try to read his future. She’d told him she had no control over her gift and she rarely predicted what had yet to happen, but it was worth a try. However, if he had no future, he didn’t want to know.
Ciara laid the divorce papers gently in her mother’s hands. Ciara knew it was like handing her mother a bomb — the divorce was going to explode and destroy her mother’s life, as she knew it. Ciara, her sister, and her brother-in-law hoped her mother could rebuild a better life from the rubble.
“So light,” her mother said staring at the papers. “So few pages.”
Ciara glanced at Carmen and Esteban. “Divorce is easy now, Mama.”
“Carlos will get a copy?” Mrs. Alafita asked.
“I’ll file the signed papers with the court tomorrow. Papa will be served papers next week.”
“By a stranger. By surprise.”
“Yes. That’s how it’s done.”
“He should be told beforehand.” Her mother’s dark eyes pleaded with Ciara’s.
“You want to tell him?” In her peripheral vision Ciara saw her sister adamantly shaking her head.
“He’ll try to change your mind,” Ciara said.
“I know he was wrong, now. Esteban has shown me how an honorable man treats a wife. Carlos will not change my mind.”
Ciara’s chest felt tight. Not all men were cheating bastards wanting something better than what they had. She understood that now and was trying to accept it.
“Do you want one of us on the extension with you?” she asked.
“You are my lawyer, Ciara.”
“Papa and I are barely civil to one another.”
“You can be civil, for me.”
Ciara nodded acceptance. “Yes, Mama.”
The three women sat on the couch with Ciara’s mother in the middle and both cordless phones. Esteban sat on the carpet at Carmen’s feet holding his mother-in-law’s free hand.
Her father answered on the second ring sounding slightly out of breath. A small child giggled close to the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Carlos,” Mrs. Alafita breathed.
“Ascension! My darling! Wait a minute.” There was hushed conversation and the giggling moved away from the phone and then stopped. “Ascension, have you called to say you are coming home?” Mrs. Alafita stiffened like a board. “You know it is not right for us to live apart like this. The church frowns on it.”
“And God frowns on adultery, Carlos. No, I am not coming back to you. Ever. I called to tell you I am divorcing you.”
“No! Ascension, Ciara has poisoned your mind. We had a good marriage. I was a good provider to you and our children. Nearly thirty-two years I loved you, took care of you, gave you a home, children, grandchildren. You had everything a woman could want.”
A tear rolled down Mrs. Alafita’s cheek. “Not faithfulness, Carlos.”
“I am a Latin man. My passions run hot. You cannot expect me to sate myself on my wife. That is not what a wife is for.”
“Yes, I can expect it. And I should have. I was wrong to put up with it. You will receive divorce papers next week.”
“Ascension, you cannot do this to me. It is wrong. Please, if you will see me, you will change your mind. I will come over now.”
“No!” her mother said a little sharply. “No, we will not talk about this. I have decided.”
“This is Ciara’s doing! She has poisoned you against me with her man hating. I do not know how I raised such a daughter.”
Ciara’s body heated with anger, but still she tried to hold back her angry remark.
But to her surprise, her mother responded, “Daughters should think their father is a hero, a man of perfect valor and honor. Carmen and Ciara could not think of you that way, Carlos.”
Ciara’s father sputtered, but her mother wasn’t done. “And if my sons treat their wives as dishonorably as you treated me, I will bear the shame to my grave. I am lucky Carmen has found a man who honors God and his wife.” Esteban squeezed her hand.
“Thank you for my children, Carlos.”
“Ascension, you cannot divorce me!” Ciara’s father sounded desperate. “I need you.”
“But I no longer need you,” Mrs. Alafita disconnected. She looked at her daughters and Esteban. “He will never change.”
“No, Mama, he won’t,” Carmen agreed.
“I do not want my sons to be like him.” Tears filled her mother’s dark eyes.
“Talk to them, Mama,” Esteban urged. “I’ll talk to them too if there’s need.”
“I will call them tonight to arrange to see them. I want to see their faces when they talk to me.”
When it was time to leave, her mother walked Ciara to the door. Mrs. Alafita shooed Carmen and Esteban away.
“What your father said about you … ” her mother picked her words carefully.
Ciara’s cheeks burned with shame. “It’s true, Mama. Even my old boss knew I was angry at men.”
Her mother took hold of her hands. “This is more of my shame, that you feel this way about men because of me.”
“No, Mama!”
“We will speak truth, Ciara. I think there have been enough lies in our family. You are angry with me too for letting it happen.”
Ciara blew out a breath. “Yes.”
“I will work for your forgiveness. If you will help me, I will learn to listen to my daughter’s wisdom.”
“Mama, I never wanted to hurt you. I wanted
him
to stop hurting you.”
“I understand that now. I was a fool about so many things.” Her mother began to cry.
Ciara enfolded her mother in her arms and cried with her. Slowly the tightness in her chest eased. There would be dark days in her mother’s near future, but there would be dawn. Could Ciara be as brave as her mother and change her view of men? Could there be a dawn for her too?
• • •
“Did you finish your personal business last night?” Bryce asked Ciara as he drove the rented Audi to the Bar Association function the next evening.
It was the first time they’d been alone together all day. She glanced in the back seat where Durayev sat. Well, not alone exactly. Durayev had quite a dampening effect. She swallowed.
“Yes.” She’d filed the signed divorce papers with the court today.
“If we didn’t have this trial coming up, I’d tell you to take a day off. It can’t be easy for you living out of a hotel, searching for a place to live, and tying up loose ends in Lansing.”
Guilt ate at her. Her face felt hot. “It’s not. But I have my evenings and lunch hours free.”
“That makes for long days. You should have refused my invitation for tonight.”
“You said there’d be dancing, Bryce. You made a verbal contract with me and I’m holding you to it.”
The side of his mouth kicked up in a smile. “Yes, counselor. Do you have any big plans for this weekend?”
Other than laundry and painting her toenails? “Nothing special. You?”
“I’d like to go fishing with my friends, but I doubt it’s going to happen. There’s a storm predicted for Saturday and I don’t want to be out on the lake in one.”
“Lake Erie?”
“Yeah. The squalls move in fast and make the lake pretty rough.”
She’d never been on a boat or on the lake. It sounded like fun. “How often do you go out?”
“Not often enough.” Bryce grimaced. “In fact, I haven’t been out at all this year.”
“You should make time to relax.”
“I know. Do you?”
“I help coach a teen girl’s church basketball team. Or I did. There’s a game Sunday I’d like to go back for.”
Bryce pulled into the country club parking lot and found an empty spot. Other couples were dressed as they were, in suits and pretty dresses, but none of them had brought a bodyguard. Durayev wore a dark suit, so at least he blended in.
Bryce’s black suit looked wonderful on him and made his shoulders look impossibly wide. But he was too stark for Ciara’s taste — cold blonde hair, stark white shirt and black suit. Even his tie was a subdued black and white. He needed warmth.
Well she certainly made up for his lack. Her scarlet dress with the full, knee-length skirt edged in black lace announced her presence in no uncertain terms.
As she wobbled on the unaccustomed four-inch heels, Bryce took her arm to steady her. An electric thrill ran from his warm hand to her bicep and into her lower abdomen. She caught her breath. In these heels she was the same height as him. She couldn’t wait to slow dance with him. She’d probably daydream they were making love instead.
She’d never been to the Highland Meadows Country Club before. Inside they were directed to a room that was floor-to-ceiling glass on two sides. Outside she glimpsed a putting green and manicured lawn sloping down to the golf course. It was an impressive room. The chandelier light sparkled off the china and glassware on the tables.
“Do you have a membership here?” Ciara asked Bryce.
“No. I don’t play much golf.”
“I’d have thought you’d have a membership somewhere for impressing clients.”
“I’m a trial lawyer. My clients aren’t the type I have to impress like that.”
“Oh.” She wondered where he’d met Adam Steele.
Bryce introduced her to dozens of legal professionals. They mingled, exchanged business cards and gossip, and networked. He halted them before a distinguished-looking Hispanic man in his late fifties.