Читать книгу A Perfect Pair - Jen Safrey - Страница 11

A light tapping on Nate’s door startled him.

“Come in!” he called, leaning back in his chair in an authoritative position. The door creaked open, and David Jeffers strode in, his footsteps muted on the soft green pile rug.

“Nathan Bennington,” Jeffers said, taking the seat across from Nate without waiting for an invitation. He wouldn’t have needed one, of course. To Nate, David Jeffers was the closest thing he’d ever had to a mentor. He was the first assistant district attorney Nate had met and worked with upon arriving at the D.A.’s office two years ago, fresh out of law school. Jeffers was someone Nate strove to impress—even now, after they’d become friends.

“Sir,” Nate replied with a smile.

Jeffers picked up a glass paperweight on Nate’s desk and studied it closely for a moment before replacing it. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you about a new opportunity you might be interested in. As soon as I heard about it, I had a feeling you might want to be in on it. Kind of a new challenge.”

“Yes?” Nate’s interest was already piqued. And it was a good thing, because it took his mind off Josey and that weird little phone call earlier. For Josey to say she wanted to sit inside and “think” on a Friday night was odd, and for the last hour, Nate had been a little distracted by worry. Which was something he was rather talented at. So now he focused his full attention on what Jeffers was saying.

“A small group of attorneys in this office is getting together to work in a specialized area—domestic violence. The number of local cases is skyrocketing, and it’s all you ever see in the media anymore. The D.A.’s decided to expand the domestic violence unit—with some additional lawyers. Talented ones. Ones who can handle the type of cases that come through here.”

Domestic violence. “What kind of cases?” Nate asked, his lips suddenly dry. It was a silly question, really. He knew the answer full well. But it was all he could think to say.

“Just about anything you’d conceive of. But the boss wants to specifically—and more publicly—target spousal abuse and child abuse.”

Nate stared at Jeffers’s face for a full minute, his heart beating fast, suddenly paranoid that his colleague knew about him, knew— No, his rational mind quickly insisted. Jeffers could have no idea of the kind of gift he was offering. Close as he was to David Jeffers, Nate had never told him—or anyone—about his father, or about the demons that had haunted him ever since he and his brother had run away from home.

He had considered the possibility of getting child abuse cases eventually. He wasn’t entirely sure that it hadn’t been in the back of his mind all along when he’d applied to Harvard Law School. But this “task force” would make prosecuting abusers a main focus. He would be personally responsible for throwing abusers behind bars.

With this new position, Nate could confront his demons. And spit in their faces.

Trying to keep the eagerness out of his voice, he said slowly, “That definitely sounds like something I would like to be involved in. But why me, Jeffers? I haven’t even gotten a chance to prosecute an abuse case yet.”

“You’ve been very successful here so far, with an excellent record, and it’s important we have the city’s best prosecutors on these cases, which can become very high-profile. But you may want to think about it. I’m handing over to you a case involving assault on a child. You can work on that and see how you do.”

“I assure you I can handle the work.”

“Oh, I’m certain of that. I don’t doubt your ability in the slightest. Quite the opposite—that’s why I thought of you. But I think you should feel out what it’s like to see abuse, and deal with it day in and day out, before you actually make a commitment to become part of this team. It’s rough stuff, very ugly.”

Nate’s mouth twisted at the irony of the attorney’s words, for he remembered, long ago, dealing with pain day in and day out under his father’s roof without any choice at all. But all he said was, “Thank you very much.”

“No problem.” Jeffers stood and stretched his head and arms back, groaning a little in fatigue or weariness. “Look at this damn place, Nate. It’s neat as can be. My office looks like my file cabinet exploded. Do you get a maid to come in here or what?”

Nate forced out a smile, forced himself to look normal. “I can come in and do your office. For a fee, naturally.”

“No thanks. I always say, if everything’s all over my desk in plain sight, I won’t lose anything.” His grin easily cut a decade off his forty-five years. “Listen, you need to come by one of these weekends now that the weather is on the steady improve. Simone’s been asking about you.”

Nate’s smile felt more natural at the mention of Jeffers’s sweet but mischievous wife. “Because she misses me or because she’s got a girlfriend she wants to set me up with?”

Jeffers spread out his hands, palms up. “I didn’t say a word.”

“You didn’t have to.” Nate stood to open the door for his friend. “I will come by, but be sure to tell her it’s for the mere pleasure of her company.”

“She’ll love it.” Jeffers moved toward the door, then hesitated. “Come by my office when you get a minute and grab that case file, all right? I’m happy you’re interested.”

When Jeffers left, Nate closed the door, vowing to open it in five minutes. After some privacy and head-clearing. He sat back down in his chair, rested his elbows on the desk and raked his fingers through his hair. Then, in a swift move, he swiveled his chair around to stare at the busy streets of Boston from four floors up.

Out of nowhere, he’d been handed the opportunity of his lifetime.

“I’m going to have a baby,” Josey said.

Nate stared at her for a fraction of a second, then promptly began to choke on a piece of buttered bread. As he reached blindly for his water glass and poured the liquid down his throat, ice and all, Josey just laughed. “Oh, Nate, come on. Cut it out.”

Nate gave a few more hacking coughs, drawing a few concerned glances from other outdoor diners at the small bistro. “Excuse me,” he said, testing his throat. His voice sounded strangled and hoarse. He took another sip of water, then wiped his lips calmly with a cloth napkin. “Excuse me,” he repeated, his dignified voice restored. Then he looked across the table, straight into Josey’s dark, dark eyes. “Now,” he began, as smoothly as he could manage, “what did you just say?”

“You heard me. I’m going to have a baby.” She must have correctly deciphered the incredulity on his face at last, because she amended hastily, “Not right now. I mean, I’m not going to have one now. I’m not pregnant. Is that what you thought I meant?”

“No,” Nate lied.

Josey fixed him with a shrewd look. “Yes, you did. Lovely thing to think, Nate. I’m not even seriously dating anyone. Did you really think—?”

“I really thought nothing,” he insisted. “I had no time to think it through at all. You surprised me, the way you said it, all right? I was just surprised. I still am. Because where is this baby idea coming from, anyhow?”

“I…” Josey reached to the middle of the table and broke off a piece of the honey-wheat loaf. But she didn’t put it into her mouth. She just held it, staring off over his shoulder. She sat there in silence, squinting against what must have been a spectacular sunset behind Nate, if the lights and shadows that passed across her face were any indication. But rather than turning to admire the view, Nate watched her, shocked by her revelation and anxious to hear her reasoning.

“I can’t explain it, really,” she said after what seemed like ages. “It just dawned on me. It just came to me like a dream. That this should be my dream. Having a baby. Starting a family.”

Nate leaned back in his chair and studied her dreamy expression. “So basically, it’s the old biological clock kicking in.”

Josey made a face. “No. I mean, I guess so, but that isn’t really the best way of putting it. It’s not just the biological clock. It’s more than that. It was like a vision or something.” She put the bread into her mouth and chewed for a moment, then said, “Like a calling.”

Nate was beginning to feel a little uneasy. He was accustomed to a laughing, kidding Josey, and this new intense, rather spiritual talk was unnerving. “A calling? Out of nowhere? Just like that?”

“Yeah, I don’t know. It was the strangest thing. One minute I was in the classroom just going about my business and the next minute—” She broke off again to take a ladylike sip of her diet cola. “I guess it’s just that I want to teach my own child. Everything, not just math and reading. I can’t really put into words how I feel. Just trust me that this is very real.”

Nate didn’t really know the correct response to all this, but Josey appeared to be waiting for some kind of reaction. All he could think of to say was, “Are you going to a sperm bank?”

“Am I going…?” Josey finally focused on his face. She wrinkled her forehead, almost as if she didn’t understand the question. “No, I’m not going to a sperm bank. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course, but that’s not what I want.” She leaned forward, and her long gold medallion dangled dangerously close to her soda glass. “You haven’t heard a word I said.”

“I heard every word you said,” Nate countered, reaching over and pushing her glass a safe distance away. “I just don’t get what you’re saying. Call me stupid, but…”

“I want the whole thing, Nate. I want a family. I want kids—and a husband. The whole package. A family.”

He leaned in also, so that they were nearly nose to nose. When he spoke again, it was with a lowered voice so the neighboring diners, at tables crowded close together on the patio, couldn’t hear. “Since when, Josey? You love being single. How many times have we gone out to dinner and you waxed philosophical about how impossible it must be to find the right man and so you weren’t going to bend over backward to do it? I’ll tell you. A hundred times. At least.”

“So what?” Her voice turned stubborn, almost rebellious. “So what, Nate? I can’t change my mind?”

“You can change your mind, sure you can, but this is a complete about-face. It’s weird.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you think my dreams are weird.”

Just as Nate opened his mouth the waitress arrived with their dinners on a tray. When she placed the huge colorful salad down, Josey grabbed her fork and dug in. This great revelation of hers certainly didn’t affect her appetite any, Nate was relieved to see. The real Josey is still in there somewhere.

But just as that thought crossed his mind, he felt a prickling in his chest. He wasn’t being fair. He wasn’t a woman. And he wasn’t Josey. Even if he couldn’t understand ever wanting to have children, it wasn’t right to belittle what she wanted. Maybe this new desire of hers was just as confusing to her as it was to him. It seemed to come from nowhere, and she definitely was taking it seriously. He was her friend—her best friend. He owed it to her to be supportive.

He took a bite of steak, chewed it slowly and swallowed, all the while looking at her. She appeared to be concentrating hard on the task of spearing a tomato.

“Josey.”

She glanced up at him, her face a picture of embarrassment, and Nate was ashamed for possibly having been the one to cause it. He never wanted her to think she couldn’t tell him things, personal things.

“I’m sorry. Listen,” he said, grabbing her hand so she couldn’t ignore him by taking another forkful of lettuce. “It’s just surprising, that’s all. Kids, husband… I think…I think it’s wonderful. I really do. I wish you luck.”

“You do?” she asked, her voice catching before she asked again. “You really do?”

Nate wondered why she was getting so emotional. Although he would prefer her not to be angry with him, she certainly didn’t need his approval. But he granted it anyway. “You know I do. You’re my friend, and I’ll do anything I can to make sure you’re happy.”

Josey dropped her fork onto the glass table and turned her hand over to clasp his. A huge grin spread across her face, bright under the darkening sky. “I’m so glad you said that! You have no idea.”

“I meant it.”

She smiled even wider. “Good, good,” she said, bouncing a little in her seat. Nate grinned, too, at Josey’s old, enthusiastic, bubbly self.

“Okay, Nate,” she stated, letting go of his hand and settling back in her seat. “Now I can get to what I really wanted to ask you tonight. I need your help.”

“Sure, with what?”

“With my plan, of course. You are the perfect one to help me get this plan off the ground. I need you.”

Nate had been nodding, but he suddenly stopped.

I need you….

She couldn’t be saying…no. No.

She needed him? For—for starting a family, she needed his help? That meant— No, it couldn’t be.

Panic was starting to swell in his chest.

And here was Josey, staring at him with a dangerous gleam in her eye.

Okay, he admitted silently, in all the time he and Josey had been friends, there were possibly two times he had looked at Josey’s beautiful face and let his gaze roam over her sexy body and thought about what she’d be like, look like, feel like in bed. He furrowed his brow. Maybe it was more like three times. And now, right this minute, she was probably thinking that very same thing about him. Thinking about making love. Having his baby.

Nate glanced around the patio, but the other diners continued with their own meals and their own conversations, unaware that his best friend in the world was going to ask him to do the very thing he had sworn never to do as long as he lived. Become a father.

And she wanted a husband. Did that mean she was going to ask him to—?

Nate had to end this discussion right now. He couldn’t let her get around to asking the question that was obviously in her mind. Because he didn’t want to be forced to turn her down, and break her heart. “Josey,” he began, “I don’t think, um…”

“I know this is sudden,” Josey said earnestly, picking a garlic crouton out of the salad with two fingers and crunching down on it. “But I can’t do this alone. I need a neutral party to screen my dates.”

Nate stared at her. “Screen?”

“Yes. I want to find the right man and start a family, but what if I pick the wrong man just because I’m in a rush? I don’t think I’m that kind of person, but I still want someone sort of monitoring the situation so I don’t get carried away.”

“Monitor?” Nate’s relief washed over him, replacing a quick twinge of disappointment. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t him, after all. He was still her buddy, her pal. “Why me?”

“You’re perfect, Nate. You’re sweet and responsible and dependable. Plus, you’re a good judge of character. You’re friends with me, after all.” She grinned. “You’ve got all the qualifications to help me find Dream Man. So I can have Dream Family. Will you help me?”

Nate was still getting over the fact that Josey was not going to ask him to impregnate her. Not that getting there wouldn’t have been half the fun—all right, all the fun—but…well, it was moot now, he supposed. Thank God she had been so wrapped up in her own plans; he didn’t want her to guess he had thought she wanted him to marry her. “What do I have to do?”

“Well,” Josey replied thoughtfully, “my dates will be far more significant now. I’m going to be much more discerning. I mean, after all, I’m searching for a husband now. I’m not going to agree to dinner and a movie with a friend of a friend just for kicks.” She spun her ice around in her glass with the tip of her straw. “So I think, I’ll check the man out on the first date. And if he makes the cut, I’ll invite him to do something with you and me as our second excursion. That way, you can check him out and tell me afterward if he’s someone to pursue further, or a complete waste of my time.”

“I would like to take this opportunity to bring up a couple of points here,” Nate interrupted, sounding even to himself too much like an attorney. “First of all, I’m quite sure that on a second date, if the man likes you in the slightest way, he will be a little confused at my presence. I mean, another man hanging around?”

Josey opened her mouth immediately to answer, but Nate held up his hand. “Wait, let me finish. Because the thing is, you and I know quite well the platonic nature of our relationship. But will a man understand this? And will a man want to share you in any way, friendship included, with another man?”

“That’s easy,” she replied promptly, with the same satisfied expression he was sure her students wore when they answered a tough question in class. “One very important husband-to-be trait is being so comfortable with himself that knowing I’m best friends with a handsome man wouldn’t faze him in the slightest. If he feels threatened, he’s no good for me. Because after I’m married, you’ll still be my best friend. He’d have to get used to it right away. And we don’t have to hang out with you the whole night, either,” she added. “We can just have drinks with you and go out to dinner later, or meet you after dinner, or whatever. Just so we’re with you long enough for a decent conversation so you can evaluate him.”

“Handsome, huh?”

Josey wadded up her napkin and threw it at him. “It figures you’d fixate on that subtle compliment. Pay attention, will you?”

Nate retrieved the napkin off his lap and put it next to his plate. “I’m just kidding. The other thing is that I can’t tell you if a man is right for you. Don’t you think your feelings are the most important thing to go on? If you think a man is nice, and you bring him to me for approval, and I say, sure he’s nice, go for it, you’d better make certain your feelings for him are genuine before you buy a wedding gown. There are plenty of responsible, dependable men in the world, believe it or not. But you can’t fall in love with all of them.”

“Thank you, Dr. Bennington, for the lecture on love and romance.”

Nate frowned at her. “I’m serious, Josey.”

“For crying out loud, I’m not a two-year-old. Being in love is the most important thing. Because without love, everything else—all the things I want—won’t mean anything.” She signaled for the waitress and ordered decaffeinated coffee for Nate and an herbal tea for herself. Nate felt a wave of affection for this woman who knew him so well.

They stayed silent for the few minutes it took the waitress to return with two steaming mugs. As Nate lifted his for a sip, Josey said matter-of-factly, “I just want someone sensible looking out for me, so I’m not blinded by my quest.”

“I always look out for you, Jose. Whether you want me to or not.”

Josey reached over and squeezed his hand again. “I know. And guess what? I always count on that, whether I admit it or not.” Her eyes, sizzling with excitement, burned into his.

At that moment, something happened to Nate. His heart did a sudden, very deliberate, slow-motion somersault, landing somewhere near the bottom of his gut. It startled him, but he didn’t have a chance to ponder it for more than a split second because Josey prompted, “Well?”

Nate tilted his head back and drained his almost empty water glass to moisten his suddenly dry mouth. “Well what?” he finally replied.

“Can I count on you to help me? If you don’t want to, I suppose that’s all right. I can manage.”

“No,” Nate said. “No, don’t do that. Bring on the candidates. I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you, Nate.” And his heart might have flipped again if Josey hadn’t followed up her expression of gratitude by saying, “And if you tell my parents a thing when we go to the Cape for my dad’s book reading in a couple of weeks, I will smack you upside the head. I don’t want them knowing about this. My mom will never leave me alone about it. And my father—forget about it.”

“You just got finished telling me how trustworthy and dependable I am. Now you think I’m going to—”

“I don’t think. I know. You always gang up on me, you and my parents. All three of you, trying to outdo each other, telling me what’s good for me.” Her voice was still fierce, but her lips hinted at a smile.

The waitress casually dropped the check on the table next to Nate’s plate.

“You love it, admit it,” Nate said, pulling out his credit card as Josey offered him several bills. He pushed her hand back. “I’ve got it this time.”

“Thanks. I’m serious, now. Don’t tell my parents anything.” Then she really did smile widely, and leaned down to retrieve her handbag off the concrete next to her feet before leaning over Nate’s shoulder and putting her lips close to his ear.

“Anyway,” she whispered, and her sudden warm breath in his ear startled him, “keeping your mouth shut is for your own good. You know they’re both nuts about you. If I did tell them my whole plan, they’d just try to make me marry you.”