Page 58 of Forged By Sacrifice

“Not me,” Mac said. “I’m going to watch the Redskins’ pre-season game.”

“Not me, either,” I said. “I want to make some headway through the case so I know what I’m doing tomorrow.”

“You two are no fun.”

“Working out with you in the gym is no fun either.” Mac guffawed.

“The Navy man can’t keep up?”

“Who would want to keep up with you and the squats from hell?”

“You’re not going to be able to fit in those new suits if you keep it up.”

He groaned. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll go, but I’m not doing squats.”

“Really?” Dani looked surprised, but I wasn’t. He really was avoiding me like I had been avoiding him.

If Dani had noticed the increased disquiet between us over the last few weeks, she hadn’t said anything. She still watched Fighting for the Stars with me and razzed Mac about being the newbie on the Hill. She acted like we were all exactly what we’d set out to be: roommates.

In the quiet that was left behind in their departure, I tried not to let the whole exchange dim the smile I’d felt when I’d walked into the apartment, but it had. Everything in my life was going better than I’d expected when I’d applied for law school and been accepted way back in January. Everything except this one thing. And I wished again that Mac and I would find a way past this. That the awkwardness would ease into the friendly banter that I had with any of my friends, male or not. Like the banter he had with Dani.

? ? ?

Theresa wasn’t kidding when she said she needed someone to do research. I wasn’t sure if she was testing me, or just desperate, but she dragged me around with her for the next week like some combination of a personal assistant and a paralegal. I was neither, and she actually had both. She didn’t have a law office. She told me she’d given it up when she’d taken on the full-time position at Georgetown, but she had a staff that worked part time out of her house on the outskirts of town.

Because she didn’t have her own office, she rarely took on cases, but the ones she took were because she was passionate about them. Kacey, her paralegal, and Ryan, her personal assistant, were both enrolled in classes at Georgetown’s main campus, not the law school. They came and went from her house with their own key, often ignoring the daggers Theresa threw out at them about not being there when she needed them. It wasn’t true; they were highly efficient, and they also weren’t afraid to tell her when she’d overstepped. It left me admiring all of them for their strength and outspokenness. It was the way I handled all my relationships.

Except one…my soul whispered to me. And I realized, with a shock, that it was true. I’d been avoiding a certain man with eyes the color of the sea and sky. I’d known that. I’d used my time with Theresa as an excuse to continue to ignore him and the issue, instead of just facing it head on—with facts, and truths, and proofs. But it was the complete opposite of how I’d handled everything else in my life, and I was sort of tired of it.

Theresa saying my name brought me back from my heart-to-heart with myself.

“Georgia is the only one who deserves to be paid, and she isn’t even making any money,” she threw at Kacey when she saw her heading toward the door on Friday.

“Georgia is going to learn soon enough that if she doesn’t tell you no, you’ll take until there’s nothing left but a burnt stub,” Kacey hollered back. “I’ll see you next week.”

“Next week?” Theresa groused.

“It’s Friday. I have a boyfriend and a life waiting for me. If you had a relationship, other than one with the law, you’d understand.”

Then, Kacey was gone.

I was smiling as I shut my computer.

“Are you leaving me, too?” she asked. “I suppose you have plans, also.”

“No,” I said, thinking about the apartment and the tension that was there now all the time because of Mac and me. I had a renewed desire to fix the situation, but I wasn’t sure how.

“Oh Lord, there’s that wistful look all you young people get.”

I laughed. “I’m not wistful or young.”

“What do you call that face?”

“Thoughtful.”

She laughed.

“If that’s thoughtful, I’m twenty-one again.” She eyed me over the top of her steepled fingers. “Are you worried about classes starting?”

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