“It’s nothing really, just a contract issue.”
“Bull droppings.”
“I had to discontinue a contract because the client withheld the fact that he had mob connections. I also warned some of the other firms in town about his actual intention for his casinos, which was money laundering.”
“Ivanov,” my mom nearly spat.
“You know about that?”
“Baby, everybody knows about that. He is notorious has been for years. Well, I’m going to show him what’s what, you can count on that.”
I tried not to roll my eyes. “Probably not a good idea to be provoking a mobster, mom. That’s why I’ve got an attorney now. Ivanov wants to sue. We are going to pick apart his case piece by piece. The guys at the firm will support me and the new owner, Ryan, he has some pretty deep pockets. We will fight it to the end. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll send out Aden with a baseball bat.”
I couldn’t be sure, but she seemed to calm down. At least enough not to no longer storm Ivanov’s penthouse single-handed.
“We should all go to dinner,” mom enthused, “my treat!”
I could almost feel Sarah’s back stiffen, even though she was on the other side of the room.
“I should be getting home,” Sarah said quietly.
“Excuse me for a moment,” Mom said, heading for the bathroom, giving me a pointed look as she went.
“I’m really sorry,” I said gently, putting a hand on Sarah’s back.
“Your attorney?’ she snapped, sounding like she might cry.
“You are now. It was all I could think of. I really didn’t know what to call you. I mean, what are you, my lover? My girlfriend? My friend with benefits?”
“I’m not sure either,” Sarah admitted, relaxing a bit. “I do know that I really like it, though.”
“Me too,” I concurred, giving her a light kiss.
“You should call her your baby momma because Sarah is going to give me grandchildren!”
Sarah honestly looked like she was going to choke. I could empathize with her reaction. My mom was great but really did take some getting used to.
“Mom is psychic,” I explained in my most skeptical tone.
“Some need to see something before they believe it,” Mom chided, “like the distinguished scientist who didn’t believe in meteorites until the remnants of one were literally put on the table. Come along, kids.”
Mom flounced out of the living room in that unique way of hers, leaving us alone again. I could tell that Sarah still had qualms.
“I really do want you there,” I said, pulling her close.
“You sure?” she asked.
“Yes, I may not know exactly what to call you, but I do know that I love you.”
It was the first time I had said that, out loud anyway. I had been feeling it but too afraid to fully acknowledge the sensation. I loved Sarah, in the fairy tale, happily ever after kind of way that I long believed only existed in Germanic folktales and adaptations thereof.
“Sarah,” she said, putting her head against my shoulder, “call me Sarah. That is enough.”
Chapter Twelve
Sarah
This behavior wasn’t like me, and part of me was still wondering why I had decided to go even while we were being seated. I knew, of course: Cooper loved me. He had said so himself. While I wasn’t about to admit yet, I loved him too. I knew I could trust him to never hurt me or leave me, and I really hoped that Sequoia was right about the baby momma thing. Something in my gut, not only the nausea I was getting every morning, told me that she was.
The restaurant she chose put me in mind if the ones I would go to with my parents back before dad went to prison. I had no idea how Sequoia could afford such a place, but since she lived at an artist’s colony, I figured she must have some money socked away. I had also heard of artists making lots of money from their work and wondered if she was one of those. It would explain a few things. Like her bright blue and purple dye job and fashion sense that seemed to consist of sandals, torn jeans held together with patches and an embroidered poncho. An eccentric artist’s look that she wore well.
I had to wonder how much of her personality had rubbed off on her son. Camilla seemed to have a lot more similarities with Sequoia than Cooper did. Though it seemed like they’d had very different sorts of lives.
“Sarah,” Coop said, pulling out my chair for me, his chivalry making me giggle.
“Just don’t go ordering for me, okay?” I clarified.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, my darling,” he said, laying it on with a trowel.
I had the sense that he was doing it partly to tease his mom, though there was an undercurrent of authenticity as well. Cooper really was as charming as ever, despite all the trouble weighing him down. Something I had the feeling he had dealt with before. To hear Camilla tell it, when she was sincere, it was a miracle he wasn’t either dead or in jail. There was a definite darkness there that I just couldn’t quite reach but also didn’t scare me as much as it might have.