Starting Now (38 page)

Ava nodded. “Yes, but I think it might be easier not to see the baby again. Ever.”

Libby wouldn’t discount that. “The thing is, Ava, Grace is going to be living right next door to you. Of course, Peter and his family could move one day, but until then you won’t be able to avoid seeing her.” Libby suspected the family already had plans to make a change—for one thing, they would need a bigger house now that they were enlarging their family.

“I … guess you’re right.”

“You’ve already lost your mother,” Libby reminded her. “I don’t want you to look back someday and regret that you gave up your child without any provisions to be part of her life.”

Ava considered Libby’s words, a thoughtful look scrunching her forehead. “This will allow me the chance to see my baby if that’s what I want later.”

“Exactly.”

“Then I think an open adoption would be best if you do, too.”

“I do. I’ll contact the attorney as soon as I get back to the office and make sure everything is drawn up so you have that option. Before you sign anything, I want to read it over, understand?”

Again Ava nodded. “Okay.”

Libby hugged her briefly. “I’m going to be at the yarn store later this afternoon. Will you be there?”

The teen broke into a wide grin and nodded. “Casey asked me to come to the shop today and I told her I would after I saw you. I thought I would knit myself a vest for school. I start classes on Monday.”

“What color?”

“I like purple,” Ava said. “Bright, bright purple.”

“Purple is one of my favorite colors, too. I’m going because I decided to knit Dr. Stone a sweater.”

“In purple?”

Libby laughed. “If that’s what he wants. I’m going to let him decide on the pattern and the yarn.”

“Cool. You must really like him.”

“I do.”

They spoke for several minutes and then Libby had to go. “I’ll see you later this afternoon,” she promised.

Ava nodded excitedly.

Once more Libby marveled at how resilient this teenager was, though she understood that Ava was far too young to fully appreciate what she was going through. That was why Libby found it important to protect Ava’s interests with regard to her baby.

Libby returned to her office. She had a long phone conversation with the Armstrongs’ attorney. Within minutes of hanging up Marlene Armstrong phoned to thank her for the offer of the baby furniture.

For the rest of the afternoon Libby worked on the Buckley account, and also on the trust funds for the Nyquists. After her meeting with them, Lois and Jamison Nyquist had given Libby a retainer. They were both in their mid-sixties, retired, and seriously looking at their financial future. As much as possible they were hoping to protect their assets and put something away for their children and grandchildren. Libby had proposed several options.

Phillip stopped by her condo and she fixed a Cobb salad for dinner. Actually they made it together, chopping and assembling the ingredients
next to each other. Phillip brought along a bottle of merlot, which he deftly opened and poured while she set the table. He helped her with the few dishes afterward.

“I’ve decided to knit you a sweater,” Libby said as Phillip dried the frying pan she’d used for the bacon and set it on the stovetop. “But if I’m going to put that much work and effort into the project, I want to be sure you’re going to like the pattern.” Margaret had been of the opinion that Libby shouldn’t even consider such a time-consuming project without a ring on her finger first. When a woman decided to knit a man a sweater, the relationship had to be serious. Libby was serious about Phillip and growing more so with every passing day. Knitting a sweater for him felt right.

Phillip reached for his wineglass. “I don’t have to go back to the yarn store, do I?”

“Would that be such a sacrifice?” She looked up at him and smiled beguilingly, or as close as she could get to beguiling.

“No, I guess not.”

He didn’t look or sound convinced.

“It would help if you chose the yarn, too.”

Phillip folded the dishcloth and set it aside. “I hate to tell you this, but I know next to nothing about yarn.”

“The color, sweetheart. I know you’re partial to blue.”

“I am.” He frowned, bunching his brows together in a single jagged line. “How’d you know that?”

“You’re not serious, are you? Nearly all your shirts are blue.”

“They are?” He seemed shocked.

“Yes, and the color goes very nicely with your eyes.”

He grinned then, accepting the compliment with ease. “Lots of women tell me so.”

She jabbed his arm and he pretended to be hurt. “Come over here and sit down with me and we can look through a few patterns.”

He dutifully followed Libby into the living room. She brought out the pattern book she’d bought and handed it to Phillip. It took him all of five minutes to choose a V-neck sweater.

“Now, about this sweater you’re knitting for me.”

“Yes?” She looked up and blinked at him several times, flirting outrageously. She felt better when she was with Phillip; the ache in her heart hurt less when he was at her side, and for a while she was able to forget.

“It seems to me knitting a sweater involves a lot of work.”

“It is a huge undertaking. Margaret actually suggested I should have an engagement ring on my finger before I purchase the yarn. It’s an investment, you know.”

“The ring or the yarn?” he asked, and his eyes danced with merriment.

She smiled. “Both, actually.”

Phillip exhaled as though giving the matter serious consideration. “It’s a little soon for you to think about dragging me to the altar, don’t you think?”

“Drag you to the altar? Oh, honestly, that’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said.”

“Okay, okay. I just want to be sure we understand each other. Is this sweater your way of saying our relationship shows … promise?” He cocked his eyebrows with the question.

“Well,” she murmured, hesitating. “Truth be told, I could easily see the two of us making a life together. We aren’t kids. We both know what we want in life. Right?”

Phillip responded with an agreeable nod. “I definitely know what I want.”

She waited for him to continue and when he hesitated, she prodded. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense.”

Smiling, he gathered her into his arms. “It should be obvious by now, Libby Morgan. I want you.”

The next day, Libby was busy at her desk when her receptionist announced that Hershel Burkhart was on the line for her. Straightening, Libby stared down at the phone, hardly able to think. Well, there was no time like the present to find out what he wanted. Libby reached for the phone. “This is Libby Morgan.”

“Libby.” Hershel greeted her warmly. “How good to hear your voice. I’m checking in to see how everything is going for you.”

Though their last two conversations had been strained, at best, Libby still felt plenty of respect for this man who’d mentored her. After a brief hesitation on her part, she updated him on recent events. She felt proud to be able to mention the two new clients she had recently acquired. She didn’t mention anything about the failed adoption.

“I’m so pleased to hear how well you’re doing,” he continued. “Martha Reed was in recently and she told us how very proud of you she is.”

Libby hadn’t always thought kindly of her time with her former firm, but she was getting beyond the disappointment and bitterness she’d experienced when Hershel had reluctantly let her go. For one thing, she was a survivor. The last six months had proved as much. And for now, she had plenty of work and more coming in every day. Already she had retainer clients and more were sure to follow. Word of mouth had spread quickly. Her rates were more reasonable than those of the larger law firms with higher overhead. If she continued to take on new clients, then she would need to think about hiring a paralegal.

Knowing Hershel hadn’t phoned to exchange chitchat, she asked, “What can I do for you?”

“Would it be convenient for you to stop by the office one day this week?”

This was getting all the more intriguing.

“For?”

“The other partners and I would like to have a chat with you.”

Libby sat up straighter. “About?”

“I’d rather not do business over the phone. I think you’ll be pleased, Libby. Now what day would be convenient?”

Libby hesitated and then, smiling to herself, she said, “Let me check my schedule.” She placed him on hold and kept him waiting for a couple of moments. When she reconnected she said, “I could stop by Friday, say around five.” She’d made it deliberately late in the afternoon so she could work for as long as possible.

“We’ll see you Friday at five,” he repeated. “As I said, I think you’ll be pleased.”

Libby replaced the phone and immediately contacted Phillip, who was out of town at a physicians’ conference in Las Vegas. Unable to reach him directly, she left him a message on his cell phone.

Next she sent Robin a text. Thirty minutes later Robin texted her back and suggested they meet for a glass of wine. Libby agreed to meet her that afternoon. Robin came back with a location and time.

Three hours later the two of them sat sipping merlot in a wine bar off Fourth Avenue near Libby’s office. “I think he wants to offer me
my old job back,” she mused aloud, holding her wineglass by the stem, resisting the urge to twirl it as her mind buzzed with possibilities.

“Clearly he needs you for something,” Robin muttered, tapping her fingers while her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“But why?”

“The answer is obvious,” Robin said, relaxing against the bar stool. “Mrs. Reed. Would you go back?”

This was the same question Libby had been asking herself since Hershel’s call. The very same question Phillip had posed in a text message he’d sent in response to her voice mail. Would she go back? “The truth is, I don’t know,” Libby admitted. She held the stem of the wineglass with both hands, as if she needed the goblet to center her.

“You’ll go back,” Robin said decisively.

“Really? And what makes you think that?”

“Well, for one thing, Hershel hasn’t gotten where he is without a few persuasive skills. From what you’ve told me he’s always been fond of you in a fatherly sort of way. Also, I suspect Mrs. Reed is still unhappy.”

Libby had more or less reached the same conclusion herself.

“And,” Robin continued, “because of the difficulties with Mrs. Reed, Hershel was able to convince the other partners that nothing would satisfy the older woman unless she worked with you.”

“Do you think they might offer me a partnership?” Libby whispered, hardly able to believe the firm would be willing to go that far.

Robin sipped her wine, her look pensive. “They might. It depends.”

Libby shook her head. They were both leaping to conclusions. She hadn’t even met with Hershel yet. Still, the thought was there. Partner. Her heart beat just a little faster. Could it actually be possible they would want her desperately enough to offer her a partnership?

“Is this what you want?” Robin asked, leaning toward her slightly. “You’ve made a lot of positive changes. Are you sure you want to get back into the same old grind?”

Libby didn’t need to think twice. “I do. I deserve to be a partner. I
worked for this.” In her mind everything would change once she’d achieved the goal that had driven her for the last six years. Being a partner would make all the sacrifices worth it. Besides, she was a different person now. She would balance her work life and her personal life and avoid the mistakes of the past. It’d be difficult, but she could do it, especially with the support system she had built over the past few months and with Phillip at her side.

“All you can do is wait and see what Hershel and the others have to say,” Robin said as she glanced at her wrist. “Gotta scoot, I’m meeting Roy for dinner.”

Libby nodded. Robin had changed from the career-driven workaholic she’d once been. These days she left work at six and spent most of her free time with Roy. The two were the talk of the courthouse, from what Libby understood. Seeing Robin this happy thrilled her.

Her friend left money on the table for the wine. “Have you talked this over with Phillip yet?”

“He’s out of town. I left him a message and he texted back. We haven’t actually talked yet.” Smiling, she had to wonder just how much of the conference he was attending. Every time he phoned all Libby could hear was jarring casino noise in the background. He’d arrive back in Seattle on Sunday.

The rest of the week passed slowly. Finally, Friday afternoon, at two minutes to five, Libby walked into the familiar office. The receptionist, Lois, stood when she stepped off the elevator. “Ms. Morgan, welcome,” she said, sporting a huge smile. “I believe the partners are awaiting your arrival.”

Libby squared her shoulders.

Hershel’s office was directly down the hall and although Libby was well aware of the location, the receptionist led the way and announced her arrival.

As soon as she entered the room, everyone stood and stepped forward to shake her hand. The other partners beamed smiles in her direction.