Starting Now (40 page)

With his hand on the small of her back, Phillip led her to the elevator. Libby didn’t relax until they were inside his car. Then and only then did she breathe a sigh of relief.

“You weren’t at the gym this morning,” he commented.

“No, I needed to get to the office early.” It was necessary if she intended to leave in time to make this birthday party. She need not have worried about missing out on gym time; she’d gotten a good workout on her mad dash from the office to her condo.

She’d tried; she’d made a genuine effort not to put in too many hours at the office, but all her good intentions had quickly fallen by the wayside. By the end of the day she was too tired to think, too tired to feel.

What Robin had said to her before she rejoined the firm had often come to mind over the past few weeks. Her dearest friend had asked her if, deep down, she was choosing to bury herself in her work as a way to forget about the baby she’d loved. At the time Libby hadn’t been one hundred percent sure. She was now. Working unbelievably long hours felt comfortable. Inside the office she could block out the
pain. She had purpose, ambition, and drive, and she was able to convince herself the firm needed her. Mrs. Reed needed her.

“Robin was at the gym.”

Libby glanced at Phillip. “I called to tell her I couldn’t make it.” She figured Phillip would comment on her absence and held her breath waiting for his censure. None came.

“Robin mentioned your call.” Phillip was quiet for several minutes while he maneuvered through the busy Seattle traffic, taking back streets to get to the I-5 on-ramp. Once they were on the freeway he asked, “So how’s my sweater coming along?”

He had to ask! He didn’t berate her for all the overtime she’d been putting in; instead, he just asked pointed questions. The fact was that she hadn’t picked up her needles all week. Not a single stitch. “The sweater’s great. I’m up to the armholes on the back.”

“Weren’t you at the same place the last time I asked, which was when? Two weeks ago? Three?”

“Yes, well, it’s been a busy few weeks.” She hadn’t gotten home before seven a single night. She hadn’t meant for this to happen. With Phillip’s help she’d even made up a list of rules, modeled after some of his own. These were guidelines that had helped him, and Libby had hoped they might keep her from falling into the same old groove of all work and no play.

Rule number one. She would never bring work home again.

Rule number two. She would keep up with her exercise program.

Rule number three. She would stay in touch with Ava.

Rule number four. She would make time for her newfound friends: Robin, Lydia, Abby, and Sharon.

Up until now her track record hadn’t exactly been stellar. It didn’t take a week for her to fall back into the pattern of bringing work home. She didn’t feel good about it, and the only reason she did it was because of Phillip. He called her every night and if she wasn’t home before seven she could see that it irritated him.

Phillip hadn’t said anything negative about her return to the firm. Really, she hadn’t been able to turn down that kind of money, and her savings account was so low it frightened her. Her credit cards were all
hovering near their credit limits and she needed to pay them off as quickly as possible. The job offer had come at exactly the right time and for more reasons than she’d given Phillip and Robin. Because she felt she would rather work from an office at the firm, Hershel had negotiated the termination of her lease.

She had kept up with the exercise program … with a few skipped days. Before going back to the firm she’d worked out at least four times a week and more often five. That had quickly dwindled down to three, and this week she’d been to Frankie and Johnny’s only once. Libby promised herself next week would be different.

Once she was done setting up the Buckley account, straightening out the mess Ben had made of Martha Reed’s paperwork, and training her new paralegal, Libby wouldn’t need to work these long hours. But for now it was becoming harder and harder to get work done in the office with meetings, conference calls, and other demands on her time. It was either arrive early and stay late or take work home with her.

As for keeping up with Ava, they’d talked at least twice this week. Ava was back in school. Everything seemed to be going okay, although the teenager didn’t often mention her classes. Libby worried that there was something Ava wasn’t telling her. This weekend Libby planned to take her to lunch so they could chat one-on-one. She suspected word had gotten out at the school that she was the mother of the baby Peter’s family had adopted.

“You’re frowning,” Phillip commented, glancing away from the road. “Anything wrong?”

“Nothing; I was just thinking about Ava.”

“What’s going on with her?”

“I’m not sure, but something.”

“When did you last talk to her?” he asked.

“Tuesday … I think.” She’d meant to call her again, but the week had been hectic with one demand after another. Thankfully Libby’s new paralegal seemed to be a good fit, but settling into a working relationship required time and patience.

“You’re frowning again,” Phillip said, chuckling softly.

“Oh, sorry … I was thinking about Sarah.”

“The new paralegal is working out?”

“Melinda’s great.” Libby turned her head and looked out the window to hide a yawn. Phillip saw it, though.

“You’re exhausted.”

“I’m fine,” she countered. “Really.”

“Close your eyes for a few minutes,” he suggested. “It’ll take another twenty minutes in this traffic. I want you to have a good time tonight.” He patted her thigh.

Following his suggestion, Libby closed her eyes and leaned her head against the window. It did feel good to relax. Although she didn’t want to admit it, she was bushed. It’d been a difficult week. She was out of practice with working these hours, and everything seemed to be hitting her at once. It’d taken time and effort to convince the Buckleys to come on board. The Nyquists had decided to take their business elsewhere. Despite Libby’s reassurances that they wouldn’t be lost in a large firm, and her promises to give them her personal attention, they’d decided against it.

Hershel, however, was a man of his word. In a matter of a few months she would be welcomed into the firm as a full partner. Every time Libby thought about seeing her name added to the letterhead, her heart did a small bee-bop of satisfaction.

Libby deserved to be partner and it gratified her that her role in the firm had finally been acknowledged. It’d taken the loss of Mrs. Reed’s account to show them her worth. Well, they were making it up to her now.

The car slowed and Libby opened her eyes, shocked to discover that she’d slept nearly the entire drive there. They were in Woodinville, at the Busbee property. Because it was a surprise party, Phillip had to park his vehicle in a vacant field out of sight of the house and road. They walked toward the house hand in hand. Julie Busbee had arranged for everyone to hide in the barn. She planned to tell Scott his present was in the outbuilding. He’d assume it was the quarter horse
he’d wanted. Julie had gotten him the horse, too, but when he walked into the barn all his best friends would be waiting there with the horse.

Julie’s plan worked beautifully and Scott was more than just surprised—he seemed completely stunned. The party was well planned. One of the women Libby had met at the yarn store, Bethanne Hamlin, Robin’s former sister-in-law, owned a party business and had assisted with the arrangements.

The buffet dinner was wonderful, followed by live music, and a hootenanny-style songfest. After the meal the birthday celebration continued with a horse-drawn hayride. Everyone was having a wonderful time and there was lots of teasing and laughter. As the evening wore on, Libby did her best to disguise how tired she was. She knew almost everyone from the hospital and mingled with Phillip and Scott’s friends easily. It was good to see everyone again, especially Sharon Jennings.

Instead of the traditional candles on the birthday cake, Julie had arranged for a large bonfire in the middle of the pasture. Everyone roasted huge marshmallows in Scott’s honor, with a lot of good-natured joking about his advancing age.

After the traditional singing of the birthday song, Libby swallowed another yawn, hoping no one noticed.

Unfortunately Phillip caught on right away. “I need to get you home before you fall asleep on your feet.”

It was early yet and she hated to spoil his fun. “In a bit,” she said, linking her arm with his. Without question they were considered a couple now, and there were several joking comments about when they were going to make it official. Phillip easily laughed off the good-natured teasing. Not so with Libby. She wanted to marry him, yearned to start a family. Once she achieved her goal and was made partner, she’d feel free to take the necessary time away from the firm. Her position would be secure.

After the first few couples departed Libby agreed it was time for them to go, too. On the ride back into the city, Phillip seemed unusually quiet.

“Tired?” she asked him, struggling to stay awake herself. The warm car, the fun evening, and simply being with Phillip had eased the tension from her shoulders.

He didn’t answer right away. “Not particularly.”

Libby sat up straighter. Then there was another reason for his silence and she had a good idea what it might be. “What’s on your mind?”

Again he was quiet for several moments. She noticed that his hands tightened around the steering wheel and he stared straight ahead, not chancing a look in her direction.

“Basically I want to know how you plan to balance your work life and your real life. Because what you’re doing now isn’t working.”

“My real life?” she repeated, amused.

“Libby, I’m serious.”

“Yes, I know you’re serious, and I am, too.”

“You’ve fallen right back into the same old grind. This is exactly what I was afraid would happen if you quit your own practice. I helped you set up those rules only because you asked me to. As far as I can see they haven’t done you a bit of good. You’ve almost given up on working out at the gym. You’ve only talked to Ava once this week and you can’t remember the last time you picked up your knitting.”

“Phillip, I know it looks bad.”

“It is bad. We were supposed to meet for drinks on Wednesday and what happened?”

It wasn’t like he didn’t already know. “Okay, so I was a few minutes late.” She’d been held up at the office.

“Thirty-two minutes, to be exact.”

“I couldn’t leave …”

“So you said.” His mouth thinned to a hard line.

“It isn’t just me who’s changed, you know,” she said. “It’s hard to talk to you. It’s like there’s a concrete wall between us. You were like this when we first met.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know: emotionally stagnant. We used to talk all the time, text, too, but if I text you, I don’t get a response.”

“Mainly because you’re texting to tell me you’re going to be late, again.”

“That’s not true.” Libby didn’t want to fight. Not tonight. Not any night. It’d been a long week and they were both tired. Finding fault with each other was far too easy. She wanted to talk to Phillip about the changes in him but she could see it would serve no purpose now.

Silence stretched between them like a barbed-wire fence, the barbs ready to draw blood if they dared attempt to climb over it. Finally Libby couldn’t stand it any longer.

“It was a lovely party. Julie pulled it off; Scott couldn’t have been more surprised.”

“I was just happy you could spare the time,” he muttered, not bothering to hide the sarcasm.

“Phillip, please, don’t be like this.”

“You’ll always have an excuse, Libby. Just wait. It’ll be the same next month and the month after that. We both knew this could happen, and despite your efforts and promises, everything has fallen apart within two months.”

“Please, Phillip, I don’t want to fight. Not after we’ve had such a good evening.” Reaching over, she placed her hand on his forearm and gave him a pleading look.

He exhaled and nodded. “I don’t want to argue, either.”

The silence was a bit more comfortable until Phillip said, “You think that if you bury yourself in your work you won’t have to think about Amy Jo?”

Libby bit down on her teeth, clenching her jaw in an effort not to give in to the hot surge of anger that instantly rose into her chest. She waited until her heart calmed before responding. His comment was a low blow and not appreciated. “You aren’t going to leave this alone, are you?”

He exited the freeway and stopped at a red light. Keeping his gaze focused on the road, he exhaled a slow breath and said, “Okay, you’re right. I apologize. I love you, Libby. I’d hoped that the two of us could build a future together.”

She reached out and placed her hand on his arm. “I want a life with you, Phillip, and my career. I love what I do, and I’m good at it.” She thought about Martha Reed and the Buckleys. “Just give me a few months and I promise everything will change.” It would be a rough few months. She wouldn’t lie to him. He needed to be prepared to accept the fact that she would be late a lot of nights and miss a few sessions at the gym. She would finish his sweater but it wouldn’t happen before Christmas.

Phillip pulled up to the curb in front of her condo and then exhaled slowly, his shoulders rising and falling as he waged some internal battle.

“All right, Libby, I’ll do my best to be patient.”

“Everything will right itself soon,” she promised, and pressed her head against his shoulder. “Come up for a few minutes, all right?”

He turned off the engine and together they rode up in the elevator. His mood lightened and she was grateful. While she picked up her discarded clothes and shoes, Phillip poured them each a glass of port.

They cuddled on the sofa. Libby was nestled in his arms and she pressed her head against his chest. She enjoyed the steady strong beat of his heart. Leaning down, he kissed her. His mouth lingered on hers and Libby raised her arm and gently stroked the back of his neck. They’d managed to avoid a major confrontation and she was grateful. Phillip was willing to give her the time she needed to settle back into a reasonable routine.