Blackjack and Moonlight: A Contemporary Romance (18 page)

“So the obvious questions are, do we insult women judges by even discussing a gender-specific term like ‘maternal instincts’? Shouldn’t all judges be above gender, or do women bring something special to the judiciary?” Elise threw the topic open to the panel, listening with half an ear, ready to jump in with the next question when discussion flagged. It was a lively panel, though, and she found herself enjoying the talk as much as the audience seemed to.

This was such a nice break from her casework just now. She was in that slump where all her cases were bogged down in discovery and motion practice. It racked up the billable hours, but left her with too much time alone and too few deadlines. And that had proven to be a recipe for thinking about Jack.

As soon as his name popped into her head, Elise scanned the auditorium for that glossy black hair. She knew he’d be there. Yup, he was staring right at her. She looked away immediately, then down at her notes, and then over at the panel.

“How do your maternal instincts affect your work as judges?” She addressed the four women, and they were off again. They seemed to enjoy playing off each other’s answers, making her job almost too easy. She barely had to pay attention. Her thoughts sped back to that spot, right side of the audience about a third in from the back.

She risked another glance. He was sitting next to Judge King. Of course. What had he told her about them? That they’d broken up? Oh, who even cared. It wasn’t anyone’s business if they were still seeing each other.

He did realize they’d broken up, didn’t he? She hadn’t gotten postcoital flowers on Sunday, which was a good sign. Of course it was a good sign. She didn’t want him to apologize, and even if he had, it wouldn’t have made any difference. She was still furious with him for taking care of her problems for her—a service she hadn’t wanted or asked for.

She didn’t need a Boy Scout to help her across the road, dammit.

“Is there a tension between your job and your home lives? Other than the obvious—namely that there aren’t enough hours in the day for everything we need to get done.” That earned her a laugh, and got the panel sharing anecdotes.

Pretty damned ironic having her moderate this panel. Elise Carroll—unmarried and hardly the maternal type. It had been easy to ignore the question of whether she even wanted children when none of her relationships lasted longer than a few months.

Just like that, she pictured Jack’s nursery, with its sunny wainscoting and charming mural. She’d only seen a bit of the mural—a fantasy landscape with meadows and animals. She wished she’d seen the whole thing, and now she never would. She felt an odd sadness that she hadn’t gone into the room, touched the crib, admired the changing table, and gauged the storage space.

Just enough time for a couple of questions from the audience before Elise caught the nod signaling that the panel had filled its allotted time. She thanked each judge in her closing remarks. The organizer came up on stage to thank the panel and everyone clapped.

Intent on avoiding Jack, Elise was leaning toward the exit when she heard a rich molasses voice behind her. “Ah, Ms. Carroll.” There was a touch of a Southern accent in that drawl, but Elise didn’t recognize the voice. She turned to find Jack with an older black woman, statuesque in a mulberry suit, a dusting of gray in her natural hair.

“Elise, may I present Chief Judge Williams? Or have you had the pleasure of appearing before Her Honor?”

“No, I haven’t,” Elise said as she shook the judge’s hand. “I’m a big fan, though. I particularly enjoyed your opinion in
Envoy Services v. Hellman Theater
.”

“Well done, Ms. Carroll,” Judge Williams said with a megawatt smile. “Do you have a case cite for every judge you meet?”

“No, just luck—I cited
Envoy Services
in a brief I’m drafting.”

“Jack, be a peach and go fetch us some of that rather dim white wine they’re serving,” Judge Williams dismissed Blackjack McIntyre as if he were an annoying younger brother. Elise was impressed, then nervous about why the judge wanted to speak to her alone.

“Ms. Carroll, I’m the one who got Bartram Mather’s complaint withdrawn,” Judge Williams stated without fanfare.

“Yes, Judge.” Elise refused to look away from the judge’s challenging stare. Elise could guess some defense of Jack’s actions was coming next. Well, the Chief Judge of the Eastern District had no authority to influence Elise’s decision. The federal judiciary couldn’t opine on a personal issue between her and Jack, let alone one that was moot since they’d broken up.

Her antagonism must have amused Judge Williams, who chuckled and patted her arm. “Honey, I tried to talk him out of it, I did. If I’d been in your place, I’d have torn a strip off his worthless hide. He really did just want to help.”

Oh, lord, how to respond to sympathy? Elise was still struggling to think what to say when Jack returned with two clear plastic cups of white wine.

Elise caught his glance. There was a question in his eyes, but she hastily looked away and concentrated on Judge Williams. If only the other woman would talk about something—anything—else. Like women in the law, for example.

Elise had just opened her mouth to utter some banal comment about the Roundtable when the Chief Judge smiled benignly at both of them. “I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about.” She walked away to hail a colleague.

Elise kept her eyes on his throat. She could see him swallow. She knew it was childish, but she was scared to look at his face. He had this way of staring at her—like a calm sea with a wicked undertow. What if she couldn’t resist the pull?

“How have you been?” His tone was polite and calm.

On second thought, she
was
brave enough to withstand that Blackjack charm. She’d ended it and it would stay ended. He’d gone back to being just another member of the judiciary. She lifted her chin and looked straight at him. His eyes were smiling at her, even to the point of warmth, and his lips— Oh, God, he was good-looking, especially when he was naked and looking at her just before kissing her, trailing those lips down her jaw before heading… A flush of heat spread over her body.

“Fine. I’m fine.” Now for the hard part. Her shoulders tensed. “Thank you for the paperweight.”

He grinned, although his eyes continued to scan her face. Did he really think she was going to create a scene in front of a good chunk of Philadelphia’s legal community? “I’m glad. It pleased me when I found it.” He was really staring at her now, an intense look full of significance and meaning.

Elise flashed on his present and the pizza they’d ordered. She’d still been angry enough to ignore the pizza but couldn’t resist seeing what was in the gift-wrapped box. He’d found a paperweight—a clear crystal cube, obviously handmade, in which an ocean wave was frozen, just about to break. It looked like the artist had taken a melon baller to the top, where a sphere was missing. A wedge of pale sheen streaming from the top gilded the dark sea. Moonlight.

Curiosity won out over common sense. She raised her chin. “I don’t get it. What’s the secret message?”

His gaze swept over the curve of her head. “Your hair. It’s like moonlight on the lake when I couldn’t sleep.”

A hot wave of desire broke over her and then a chill replaced it. She wanted to cry, which was crazy. She never cried.

His expression was so gentle and caring. He’d said he loved her hair. Suddenly, it was all too personal, too intimate—too loving. Her brain blanked on how to respond. “Yes. Well, thank you. It’s very beautiful.” She was staring at the knot of his tie again. Its rich bronze pattern had gone a little blurry.

She had to get out of here. “I need to check in with the organizers,” she lied, and escaped.

She ducked through a nearby doorway and out into the lobby. A few people stopped her to talk about the program, but she got away as gracefully as possible. Finally, she made it to the exit. She ditched her untouched wine and pushed out into the May sunshine.

She found a cab to take her back to the office. She dreaded going home, where Jack’s ghost haunted her. The pillowcases still smelled of him because she hadn’t felt like doing laundry on Sunday. She could barely stand to go to bed every night. As soon as she closed her eyes, her entire body remembered things they’d done in that bed. Only exhaustion helped stem the longing to feel his hands on her skin. Of course it was just a sex hangover, but still it ached.

So she’d work late. Again.

Jack watched Elise run away, staring at the door she’d escaped through. On the other side of the reception, Judge Williams and Judge King kept throwing speculative glances his way. He was probably some sort of project for them, an unmarried man at his age being anathema in their shared world view of happy marriages and large families.

Well, sorry to disappoint two noted jurists, but it was not looking good for the Get Blackjack Married campaign. With another woman, perhaps, but not his Elise. And Elise was the only woman he’d ever want to marry.

Always have to take on the hardest challenges, don’t I?

He’d never even come close to imagining himself in love before, then suddenly, mysteriously, it was a
fait accompli
. He couldn’t explain it—it just was the way things turned out. Every moment spent with her had only deepened his joy in her intelligence, humor, beauty and zest. And she’d enjoyed her time with him—well, up to the point he crashed into her scruples about handling her problems by herself. That blunder had set back his efforts to get Elise to see how perfect they were together.

Well, defeat wasn’t an acceptable result. Maybe his suit had been thrown out on technical grounds of—what? Improper procedure? There were ways to appeal that. She wasn’t indifferent to him. Sure, Elise had looked stricken when he’d explained why he’d picked the paperweight, but who knew what that meant. She was still mad at him. He’d considered apologizing on the spot. She’d just throw his contrition back in his face.

The only way to lose a case was to give up, while the key to winning was to have patience. Wait for something—new evidence, defendant’s counsel to make a mistake, a fresh perspective on trial strategy.

Same thing here. He’d get another opportunity to apologize after Elise had cooled off a bit. Until then, he could wait for her to make the next move.

At least the Mather thing was gone. Jack could afford the time for Elise to soften—waiting
and
worrying would have made him crazy.

He’d give her a couple of weeks. If she hadn’t contacted him by then, he could argue that she was reneging on a contract. Maybe by then she’d be ready to resume their sex dates.

It seemed a thin thread to hang his hopes on. Still, his refusal to fail was almost equal to his patience.

“Hello?”
Could it be Jack?

“Elise.”

Hell—it was her mother. Elise was so tired—it was nearly midnight—that she’d picked up her office phone before she checked the ID. The 458 area code would have alerted her that it was her mother, had Elise’s reflexes not gone to bed early.

Peggy didn’t wait for Elise to speak. “What the hell are you doing in the office this late? I tried you at home.” Her voice had the “I see what you’re doing” tones of a sniffy librarian.

“Just some work.” Elise pushed the papers away and leaned back in her chair. Maybe it would be good to talk with her mother.

“Kim tells me you’re trying to make partner. Why? I don’t understand why you have to sacrifice your youth to a stupid employer.”

“Is this why you called me? To criticize my choices?” And Peggy wondered why her daughter didn’t want to talk to her.

“If I saw you about to drive off a cliff, wouldn’t I warn you?”

“What’s the cliff here? A successful legal career? The respect of my peers?”

“A solitary existence when you could be with a man and have children. Like Kim.”

Outrageous. Fifteen years and nothing changed. “I really should finish my work, okay?”

“You’re past thirty. When I was your age, I already had a school-age daughter. If you have children now—and I don’t see how, given that you’re not dating anyone—you’ll be fifty by the time the kid graduates from high school.”