Every Saturday Night (Firsts and Forever 6)

Chapter13

The next day was a whirlwind of activity. Walt, the legal assistant, called bright and early and set up a lunchtime appointment, which was when both lawyers had managed to clear their schedules.

When Lucky found me frowning at my closet with a towel around my hips, he said, “Let’s ask JoJo if she can start babysitting a couple of hours sooner than we’d originally planned. I want to take you shopping.”

I raised a brow and grinned. “I know you’re rich and all, but that doesn’t mean we immediately have to recreate that scene from PrettyWoman.”

He grinned too and said, “That’s not what I’m doing. You just need some new clothes and a couple of suits, for meetings with the lawyers and to wear to court. It’s important to present yourself a certain way in that setting.”

“You’re right, but how can I keep taking from you, Lucky? I already owe you more than I can ever hope to repay in this lifetime.”

“Please don’t look at it that way. We’re a couple, and there’s no keeping score. There’s also nothing more important to spend money on than you and this court case, and a new wardrobe is part of that.”

I hugged him and said, “Thank you for being astonishingly kind and generous and taking care of me.”

“Always.”

Once we were both dressed in T-shirts and jeans—his from the stash he kept at my house for his weekend visits—we went downstairs to find JoJo. It turned out she and Owen were out on the patio, making a huge mess with the new finger paints and easel she’d recently bought him.

She was sitting cross-legged on the patio while the toddler laughed delightedly and smeared paint on a large sheet of paper with both hands. When she turned to look at us, I noticed a blue baby-sized hand print on each cheek. “Don’t worry,” she said with a smile. “The paint’s totally nontoxic, and I promise to clean him up when he gets bored of this. Isn’t it great, though? He’s a natural artist.”

“Talk about pure joy,” I said. “Thank you for getting him the paint set and that little apron.” It was as paint-smeared as the canvas.

“My pleasure.” She dipped her finger in some red paint and added a squiggle to the canvas, and Owen immediately smeared it away. JoJo laughed at that and said, “Everyone’s a critic.”

“I hate to ask, but I need to go buy some clothes for today’s meeting, so could you—”

She cut me off with, “You don’t even need to ask. I cleared my whole schedule today and am thrilled to be getting some quality Owen time.”

“Are you sure? I know you’re on a deadline, but Dylan has some appointments and everyone else is at work.” She was a jewelry designer who ran her business from a home studio, and I knew she’d been working to fill an order for a prestigious museum gift shop.

“I’ll get it done. I always do,” she said. “Now go shop, and good luck with the lawyers. I hope they end up being as terrific as they sound.”

I thanked her, and then I kissed the top of Owen’s head and told him, “I’ll be back soon, kiddo.”

He said something that sounded like, “Ga bah, Da,” and went right on smearing the paint.

I asked, “Did you hear that? My son’s a genius and just said, ‘goodbye Dad.’ Next thing you know, he’ll be doing calculus for fun.” Owen flashed me a huge smile.

Lucky and I cut through the house, and when we stepped out the front door, I was surprised to find a black town car waiting for us. “Parking is a pain downtown, so I hired a car and driver for the day,” Lucky explained. When we climbed into the back seat, he directed the driver to the house on Nob Hill and told me, “I need to change for the meeting, and that’s where I keep my dressier clothes.”

“I’m curious about something. I was under the impression you lived at the garage full-time when we met, but was I wrong about that?”

“No, you were right. When I first bought the garage a few years ago, I really didn’t plan to live there. But I ended up spending so many late nights working on my bikes that I bought a bed, just so I could sleep there occasionally. Then I added the kitchen and shower, and pretty soon there wasn’t much point in going home anymore. I still kept some things at the house, like my work wardrobe, and I’d stay there with my guests when my dad or some other relatives would come for a visit. But the garage felt a lot more comfortable than that house ever did.”

“You mentioned a housekeeper,” I said. “Does she live at the house?”

“No. I gave Nina the choice of moving in when I hired her almost ten years ago, but she felt her family was better off in a home of their own.”

“So, you bought them one, didn’t you?”

“How’d you know?”

I said, “I can tell she means a lot to you, and that seems to be what you do when you care about people—you spend money on them.”

“I guess it’s one of the few things my dad and I have in common. It’s important to us to take care of others in any way we can.” His phone beeped a moment later, and when he read the text, he muttered, “Well, shit. Speak of the devil.”

“What is it?”