Starting Now (15 page)

“Do you regret your divorce?” he asked.

Libby debated how best to answer that. “What I regret was that I
didn’t try harder to save the marriage. We were both so eager to give up on each other. Joe wanted a family and I felt we should wait. Then seeing his baby today …” She paused as her throat started to tighten, and she found she couldn’t complete the sentence.

“We all have regrets, Libby. I have my share, too. I let someone I loved go; a woman I’d hoped to spend the rest of my life with. I just stood back and let her walk away.”

Libby looked up, amazed that he was willing to share something so personal with her.

“What happened today was clearly painful,” he continued, “but you seem like you’re willing to own your part in what caused the divorce. Don’t make the mistake of beating yourself up, especially now. You don’t have anything to feel guilty about.”

“You didn’t have regrets after your breakup?”

He laughed softly. “Oh, I had plenty. It took a while for me to realize that I had lost perspective. I assumed the hospital would fail to function if I wasn’t there to overlook every detail.”

“I’ve heard Sharon say that several of the physicians on staff have pretty big egos.”

“It happens,” he agreed, and smiled.

Libby returned it with a wobbly smile of her own.

He released her hand and straightened his posture. “Have you ever been sailing?” he asked out of the blue.

Libby remembered the picture on Hershel’s credenza—the one of him on the sailboat—and the feeling she’d had each time she caught a glimpse of it—that sensation of being free and enjoying life. “No, but I would like to someday.”

He stood. “No time like the present.”

“Now?” She nervously clenched her hands. She had no experience with boats, let alone boating. After the trauma of the afternoon, staying indoors and licking her wounds appealed to her more.

“Why not?” Phillip asked.

Nibbling on her lower lip, Libby held his gaze, uncertain but tempted.

Reading her indecision, he added, “When I need to think things
through, I head for the marina. Being on the water helps clear my head and relaxes me.”

That was incentive enough, or it should have been. “I’m not sure I should. I’ve never sailed before and …”

“You’ll feel better with the sun on your face and the wind at your back, while you’re gliding through the water.”

He made it sound so magical. Libby felt a smile coming. Really, what did she have to lose at this point? Nothing about the way she’d been living her life seemed to be working. Maybe it was time to stop listening to her first impulses. The decision made, she looked up and met his gaze. “Okay, let’s do it.”

An hour later they were on Lake Washington aboard his twenty-four-foot sloop. When they’d first arrived at the marina, Phillip had gotten busy bringing out the sails, tying them up to the mast, and getting everything ready to take them onto the lake. He moved gracefully, comfortably, about the boat.

Once they’d motored out of the marina, he set the course and raised the sails. Within moments the main sail and the jib filled with wind as the Challenger 7.4 sliced effortlessly through the dark green water.

Phillip had been right. The sun felt good on Libby’s face, and as the wind whipped about her it seemed to take with it the pain and regrets of that afternoon. She understood now what Phillip had meant when he said he went sailing when he needed to think something through. Sailing had a calming effect on her, too.

Phillip seemed completely at ease at the helm. He was confident and sure of himself. The wind ruffled his dark hair, blowing it back from his face. He looked boyish and happy; Libby found it difficult not to stare at him. When he caught her watching him, he grinned. It hardly seemed possible that just that morning she’d thought of him as brusque and unpleasant. The transformation was amazing.

“What do you think?” he asked.

She didn’t know what to say. “It’s everything I thought it must be. I can’t wait to tell Hershel.”

A frown briefly marked his brow. “Who’s Hershel?”

She didn’t need to stop and think. “A … friend,” Libby said, although she had only recently come to think of him as one. “Hershel has a picture of his sailboat on his credenza and I’d always wondered why he loved it so. Now I know.”

The lake had plenty of water traffic, sailboats galore, and motor-boats, too, their engines roaring as they sped past.

A section of Lake Washington had been cordoned off for swimming, and the cheers and shouts of youngsters taking advantage of the sunshine rang through the late afternoon. Even with all the busyness of the lake, Libby felt a strange sense of intimacy with Phillip. In the close confines of the boat, her feelings were stronger than ever. While there was sound all around them, the sailboat was surprisingly quiet, making conversation easy. She wondered if Phillip felt the connection, too, and assumed he must, although neither of them spoke of it.

Filling the silence, he talked about the sailing classes he’d taken and his search for just the right boat before he decided on the Challenger 7.4, which he kept docked at the marina.

After a few minutes Libby relaxed, and they shared a companionable silence. She closed her eyes and turned her face toward the sun and relaxed, really relaxed. Her tears earlier had been cathartic—they’d drained all the tension out of her, leaving her free of recriminations.

The main sail caught the wind and the Challenger sliced through the water like a hot knife through butter. Surprised by the sudden burst of speed, Libby grabbed hold of the side and held on.

Phillip laughed and motioned for her to come sit by him. “Come here by me,” he urged. “I’ll teach you to sail.”

“Ah …” The desire to learn outweighed her reluctance to take over the helm. She settled close to his side, but he had her sit in front of him, wrapping his arms around her and letting her take hold of the wheel. He explained basic sailing theory to her but the words made little sense. Although she did her best to pay attention, she couldn’t ignore the fact that she was basically in his arms. Her mind was spinning
at an incredible speed, trying to take in how quickly her feelings for him, and apparently his for her, had changed.

“You’re doing great,” he assured her. His hands rested on her shoulders as she held on to the wheel.

“This is great.” Turning her head, she smiled up at him.

“You’re a natural.”

She laughed softly and then after only a short pause, Phillip leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers. It was a gentle, exploratory kiss that quickly deepened. This man could kiss. Libby strained up toward him; her position was slightly uncomfortable, but she didn’t care. She continued to hold on to the helm with one hand and slipped her free arm around his neck. The sail went slack and the flapping noise of the canvas was barely discernible to Libby, but apparently not to Phillip. Gradually, he broke off the kiss and lifted his head. He took over again, but when Libby went to move, he stopped her.

“I like having you here.”

Still flushed and a bit light-headed, she leaned against him and sat in his embrace for an hour, perhaps longer. Neither of them felt the need to speak. Being this close to Phillip felt incredibly good. Every now and again he’d rest his hand against her shoulder or lean down and kiss the side of her neck. When he did Libby would close her eyes, unable to believe that within the space of a few hours she had gone from one of the lowest points of her life to such supreme joy. The transformation had happened because of Phillip.

Eventually they headed back to the marina.

“Being on the water always makes me hungry,” Phillip said as he motored into his marina slot. “How does fish and chips sound?”

“Wonderful. I’m starved.”

“I am, too.”

He helped her off the boat, and they worked together to get the gear down and properly stored. When they started to leave, Phillip placed his arm around her shoulders.

“Be careful now, these docks get slippery.” He slipped an arm around her waist, as though he needed an excuse to keep her close.

“Especially in July,” she teased, noticing how dried out the wood seemed in the summer sunshine.

“Especially in July,” Phillip echoed, chuckling.

She looped her arm around his waist and together the two of them walked toward his car.

This day had certainly been full of surprises.

Friday morning Libby could hardly wait to get to the gym to see Robin. She would have phoned or sent a text, but her time with Phillip was something she wanted to discuss in person.

They’d sat at the picnic tables outside the fish and chips stand and talked for two hours straight. He was completely different from what she’d expected. Her emotional collapse seemed to have made him willing to share deeper parts of his life with her.

Libby had never been the chatty type. Yet she found it so incredibly easy to talk to Phillip now that she’d gotten past his seemingly reserved exterior. They discussed a dozen different subjects, from popular music to books, politics, and religion.

He seemed genuinely interested in her opinions, some of which he agreed with and others of which he didn’t. She learned that he’d been badly burned in his last relationship. What she found remarkable was his honesty and willingness to acknowledge his part in the breakup. As one workaholic to another, she identified with him on a
number of different levels. Afterward she felt buoyed, encouraged, and inspired.

At the end of the evening, he walked her up to her condo and kissed her good night. It wasn’t a simple peck on the cheek. It was a heated exchange that rocked her to the very core of her being. It’d been difficult to break away from each other, and when they did his breath was as ragged as hers.

The attraction she’d felt on the boat had exploded. Phillip felt it, too. Libby could see it in his eyes. He looked as shocked as she felt, as if he wasn’t sure this should be happening. They’d both been gun-shy because of previous relationships, and while what they felt was new and exciting, it was scary, too.

She could hardly sleep; she was that happy. Her entire being was filled with a hopeful expectation that was unlike anything she’d experienced in a very long while.

Libby was at her locker when Robin flew into the dressing room. Her friend’s face lit up the instant she saw Libby.

“I’ve got news,” Robin said, gripping Libby by the forearms.

Libby reached for her friend’s arms at the same time. “Me too.”

“Let me go first.”

“Okay,” Libby acquiesced. She was too happy to argue about anything so trivial.

“I talked to Roy and he mentioned a position would be opening with the city as a junior prosecutor. I know it’s pretty much a starting position, but I think you’d quickly rise through the ranks, so please don’t be turned off by that.”

Libby frowned. While grateful for any job opening, she wasn’t keen to be a prosecutor.

“It’s for the department dealing with tax fraud and financial crimes.”

This was an important component of estate work, with which Libby was well acquainted. This was promising, very promising. “This is big,” she whispered.

“You’re telling me?” Robin joked. “This is huge, and right up your alley.”

“Oh, Robin, thank you.” She briefly hugged her friend. To do something like this for her was outside Robin’s comfort zone.

“I’ve got the information. You need to call first thing this morning,” Robin told her.

“Done.”

“Interviews are next Wednesday.”

“Perfect.” She hoped she could arrange for hers to take place in the afternoon, as she was scheduled to volunteer at the hospital in the morning. Nevertheless, if asked to come in the morning Libby would. Sharon knew she could be called away at any time for work—finding a new job was her priority.

“Okay,” Robin said, looking pleased with herself. “What’s your news?”

Libby barely knew where to start. “I saw Joe.”

“Your ex?”

Filling in the blanks, she described her emotional breakdown and how Phillip had shown up unexpectedly at her condo. She mentioned the sailing lesson, and although she felt a little like a gossiping schoolgirl she told Robin about the amazing kisses they’d shared.

“Wow,” Robin whispered when she finished.

“He asked to see me again tonight.”

“Dinner?”

“Phillip suggested going out on the sailboat again, but that depends on the weather. I checked out the forecast, and it’s supposed to rain.” Frankly, Libby didn’t care what they did, as long as she was with him.

“Roy has a boat,” Robin murmured wistfully.

“Roy … Judge Bollinger told you about the opening in the prosecutor’s office?”

“Yeah.” Robin immediately changed the subject.

Apparently the judge was strictly off-limits. Well, well, so Libby had guessed right. It was Roy who had captured her friend’s attention.

After her workout, Libby returned to her condo. She was changing clothes before heading to the hospital when her cell chirped.
Thinking—actually, hoping—it was Phillip, she didn’t bother to look at caller ID before answering.