Starting Now (39 page)

Libby blinked a couple of times to make sure she hadn’t fallen into some fantasy. If this was a dream world, she didn’t want to wake up anytime soon.

After two or three minutes of small talk, Hershel cleared his throat. “I know you’re curious as to why we’ve asked to see you.”

Libby nodded.

“Basically,” Hershel said, “we’d like to offer you your old position back. Of course, you’d be working with Sarah again and we’d be willing to offer you a slight increase over your former pay scale.”

Howard Smith spoke. He was a short man of only about five-six who wore his hair in a crew cut, most of which was gray now. “We’re hoping you’d be able to start sometime next week.”

Libby blinked. Hershel had told her she’d be pleased and she was, but hesitant, too. Why the rush? Next week?

She crossed her legs and after settling into the wingback chair she regarded them closely. “I’m sure you’re aware I have my own practice now.” Before she made a commitment Libby wanted more details. As for working with Sarah, the offer didn’t hold as much appeal as it once had. She didn’t feel the same about the paralegal since it’d become clear Sarah had betrayed her confidence with the partners, not to mention her failure to respond to Libby’s job offer.

“We’ve taken the fact you’ve struck out on your own into consideration,” Hershel spoke for the group. “You can keep that office if you wish and of course the firm would pick up the lease on your behalf or, if you prefer, you could take an office here.”

“A bigger one,” Howard Smith added.

Oh boy, they wanted her and they wanted her bad. Interesting, very interesting.

Glancing around the room, Libby took in the anxious looks on the partners’ faces. She was about to speak when Hershel cut in.

“As I mentioned, one of the reasons we felt we had to let you go, Libby, was because you hadn’t been able to attract new clients. You worked hard, supplied billable hours, and were an asset to the firm, but every partner needs to bring something to the table. You’ve since proven that you are capable of doing so.”

“So you’re offering me a partnership.”

The men in the room exchanged glances.

Hershel answered, “That’s definitely a possibility.”

Howard Smith crossed his arms. “When Hershel says a partnership is in the offing we want you to know it’s a very distinct possibility. If the Buckleys and the Nyquists agree to transfer their accounts here then I feel I can speak for all of us when I say we’d be more than happy to put that on the plate.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Six months.”

“Are you saying that in six months you’d be willing to make me a partner either way?” Libby asked. She wanted this clearly spelled out.

Howard grinned and nodded. “You’ve proven yourself, Libby. We’ll give you a few months to get settled back into the office and go from there.”

“Do we have a deal?” Hershel asked.

“I’ll want to consider your offer over the weekend.” She already knew what she was planning to do, but she wanted to talk to Phillip first. Robin, too. And she didn’t wish to appear overly eager.

“Of course, of course. This is an important decision. Naturally we’d want you to think it over carefully,” Howard said, favoring her with one of his rare smiles.

“We’ll wait to hear from you Monday morning, then,” Hershel said.

“Yes, Monday.” Libby rose out of the chair. “One thing,” she said in afterthought.

“Yes?”

“I’d like a new paralegal. I’m sure Sarah has made a smooth transition working with Ben Holmes. I would prefer someone new.”

“Done,” Howard assured her.

Libby waited until she was out of the building before she sent Phillip a text. CALL ME ASAP.

He phoned less than five minutes later. “What’s up?”

“You won’t believe what just happened,” she said, speaking so
fast the words nearly blurred together. Before he could ask she told him everything. “What do you think?” she said.

His hesitation came as a surprise. Libby had expected him to be as excited as she was, or nearly so. “Is this something you want, Libby?”

“Of course it is.” No need denying the obvious. “I feel vindicated after all these months.”

“You aren’t worried that you’ll fall into the same rut you were in when you left the firm?”

“No,” she insisted. “I’ve learned my lesson. Oh, it might be intense the first few weeks while I train my new paralegal and get caught up with the Reed account, but I promise you, Phillip, I’ll never go back to the way I was before. I have a life now, friends and …” She hesitated, her heart nearly bursting with joy. “I have you.”

The silence on the line felt deafening.

“Say something,” she whispered. She wanted—no, she needed—Phillip to be happy for her. Being made partner was what she’d longed for from the start. It was everything she’d strived for over the last six years and beyond. It was what her mother would have wanted for her.

“What would you like me to say?” he asked with a decided lack of enthusiasm.

“I want you to tell me that you’re happy for me and will support my decision,” she blurted out.

“The decision is yours, sweetheart—yours and yours alone. I thought you were happy with the idea of your own practice, but if you want to go back with the firm then by all means, you have my complete support.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll see you on Sunday and we can talk more then,” Phillip assured her.

“Okay …” Reluctantly she ended the call. She knew he was busy with the convention but wished they could have spoken longer.

Libby waited until Saturday morning before she called Robin. The two met to go shopping. Robin hated buying clothes but was running
out of anything suitable to wear on her dates with Roy. Her one black dress had taken her about as far as it could.

“I hate this, you know,” she muttered when Libby met her at the downtown Nordstrom.

“I know, but it will be painless.”

Robin snickered. “Don’t be so sure.”

Libby had already given her friend all the details of her conversation with the partners earlier. Sitting outside the dressing room, Libby waited while Robin tried on outfits. She didn’t appear to be having much success as the salesclerk was rushing back and forth with armloads of dresses.

“I look ridiculous,” Robin muttered from inside the fitting room.

“I doubt Roy would say that.”

“I wish now I’d paid more attention to my mother. She has a sense of style, which unfortunately completely escaped me.” Having said that, Robin opened the dressing room door and stepped out in a bright red dress that looked incredible.

“Robin …” Libby’s mouth sagged open.

“I know. I look like an overweight poinsettia.”

“You look gorgeous.” Libby meant every word.

“Really?”

Libby nodded.

Robin looked at the salesclerk. “I’ll take it, the blue outfit, and the pink one, too.”

Robin in pink. She probably hadn’t worn anything that wasn’t blue, black, or brown in years.

After Robin paid and carted the garment bag to the parking garage, they decided to eat lunch.

Her friend waited until after the waiter had taken their order before she spoke about Libby’s meeting with the firm. “Two questions.”

“Ask away.” Libby set her water glass down.

“What did Phillip say?”

Libby slowly released her breath. She was having a difficult time reading his reaction. He’d been encouraging, but not overly so. She
sensed that he would rather she moved ahead with her own practice instead of returning to the firm, but he hadn’t said so. “He told me he’d support my decision. He knows how important this is to me. I don’t think he wanted to say anything to persuade me one way or the other. Besides, they offered me a terrific package and he knows I’ve practically gone through my entire savings. I need this. My bank account needs this.”

Robin frowned as she reached for a roll from the middle of the table, as if to say she knew this was about more than the money. The waiter appeared with their salads. She waited until he’d turned away before asking her second question: “Did you contact Martha Reed?”

Libby smiled gleefully. She’d been waiting all afternoon to share this news. “I did and I explained that Hershel had asked me to rejoin the firm, and Mrs. Reed told me that it shouldn’t come as any surprise.”

Robin set the buttered roll aside. “The sweet old lady decided to pull her account once and for all if you weren’t the one working on it, didn’t she?”

“Bull’s-eye,” Libby said. “Mrs. Reed told Hershel that upon reflection—her word, not mine—that upon reflection her rapport with me outweighed her history with the firm and their offer to cap fees.”

Robin clapped her hands. “I love it. So they are about to lose her.”

Libby was ready to burst with a deep sense of self-righteousness. “It was exactly the ammunition Hershel needed to convince the other partners they needed me. I still don’t know that her children would have been comfortable with her bringing the estate part of her business to me, but it was definitely a concern.” It didn’t hurt that Libby had clients she would potentially be bringing into the firm, too.

“Another question,” Robin said.

“That’s three.”

“It’s important.”

Robin had gone quite sober, which surprised Libby. Libby sat up a bit straighter, and gestured toward her friend. “Ask away.”

Robin looked her straight in the eye. “Are you sure … are you absolutely convinced that your willingness to go back to the firm isn’t an escape from the pain of losing Amy Jo?”

A rush of fresh hot pain shot to the surface and emotion clogged Libby’s throat. She waited until it passed before she answered, waited until she was sure she could trust her voice. “I … I don’t know, but what I do know is that this is the opportunity of a lifetime and I’m grabbing hold of it with both hands. This is my chance to vindicate myself.”

“Then go for it,” Robin advised. “Give it everything you’ve got.”

“That’s exactly what I intend to do,” Libby said.

Later that afternoon, exhausted from shopping, Libby sat in her condo watching the sunset. Phillip would be back from Vegas the next afternoon. He planned to come over as soon as he landed. In mulling over his response to her news, she’d reached an insight. While Phillip might be unwilling to share his feelings, she could pretty much guess his thoughts on the matter.

He was afraid of what would happen to them as a couple if she returned to the firm. With her own practice the only person she had to compete with was herself. At the firm there were the partners who would be constantly looking over her shoulder, critiquing her performance and her ability to bring in new clients.

What Phillip didn’t understand was that he didn’t need to worry. She wouldn’t allow anything to come between the two of them. She wouldn’t fall victim to that treadmill mentality again. She’d found her life and she was determined not to repeat past mistakes.

As she headed for bed that night, Libby paused to look into the nursery. The room was empty now. The Armstrongs had come and collected all the furniture—they’d been grateful and appreciative. Libby stared at the empty space for a long time. Then, with a lump in her throat, she bounced her closed fist against the wall and turned off the light.

Two months later Libby tore into her condo, unfastening the buttons to her business jacket with one hand as she tossed her briefcase to the floor with the other. She kicked the high-heeled pumps from her feet, and one flew onto the sofa and the other landed somewhere in the kitchen. She didn’t care. She was already late and Phillip would be over to pick her up in a matter of minutes. Julie Busbee, one of the doctors’ wives, was holding a surprise birthday party for her husband, Scott, and Phillip and Libby had been invited to attend. They couldn’t be late—it would ruin the surprise.

The party was at the Busbee property north of Seattle, outside of Woodinville. According to the invitation there would be hayrides, a buffet dinner, and, later on in the evening, a bonfire. No way Libby could wear her suit and pumps. Jerking a sweater out of her closet sent the hanger into a seesaw rocking motion. While pulling the sweater over her head, Libby grabbed jeans and stuffed her feet inside slip-ons.

She barely had time to run a brush through her hair and put on some lipstick when the doorbell rang. Phillip!

Libby squirted on a quick spray of her favorite perfume and dragged in a deep breath to steady her pounding heart before she opened the door.

Phillip’s eyes widened as he stepped into the condo. “It looks like a cyclone landed here,” he said, looking past her. Libby’s suit jacket was tossed on the floor, followed by her skirt, leaving a trail that led into her bedroom.

“I was running a bit behind schedule,” she said, hoping he didn’t hear the breathless quality to her voice.

“Libby, Libby,” he said, kissing her forehead and holding her close for a moment. It seemed like he wanted to say more, but he hesitated. “Get your coat, or we’ll be late.”

“My coat,” she repeated, opening the closet and grabbing her dark wool jacket. The weather had turned decidedly cooler over the last week.