Page 48 of Master Debater

“Congrats on landing another rich dude. Maybe I should call him and tell him to be careful, or he’ll lose half his business to you.”

Another rich dude? Had he forgotten I’d been the one who balanced the dental practice’s books? Eric did well and all, particularly since the cost of living was so low in Sugar River. But asking for fair compensation hardly made me a gold digger. “It was a third of your business profits over the last six years, which is only fair considering I helped you build it every step of the way. As for the car, Nate leant it to me because he cares about my safety and can’t wait for me to return to Boston.”

There were so many things I was tempted to say to my ex, mostly insults about how he’d never be the man Nate was, how I was so glad we’d never had kids, and that being married to him was about as fun as a cavity. Determined to be the bigger person, I opened the door to the Porsche.

“Goodbye, Eric.” I glanced at him, experiencing a combination of relief and joy it’d be the very last time I’d ever have to. “Best of luck with the dental clinic and finding someone who put up with your shit as well as I did.”

Okay, so that last part sort of slipped out. He didn’t deserve the last word.

I backed out of my parking spot, revving the engine louder than necessary.

After a quick stop at Leah’s house, where we caught up and I suggested she visit me in Boston, I put Sugar River in my rearview mirror.

And only once during the long drive home did I let Eric’s parting jab about letting myself go, and anxious thoughts over whether Nate might one day grow tired of me, get the best of me.

Chapter 27

Nate

After getting used to nights spent with Willa, it’d been way too many days since she and I had seen each other. I’d greeted her upon her return, and we celebrated her divorce with champagne and sex. Although, I’d joked I was mostly raising my glass to her returning the Porsche without a single scratch on it. No jokes or excuse for the incredible sex, as that was self-explanatory.

This past week, Willa had spent a lot of extra hours at Berklee, finalizing a song she was writing. Both our schedules seemed to be in fast-forward, the tasks in our days always outnumbering the hours in which we had to accomplish them. Long weeks where I put in close to eighty hours used to be the norm, but after getting used to spending time with Willa this past month, her absence had become a physical, glaring vexation.

At least Rylee had come in last week and apologized, both for telling me she’d hire anyone but me and for her drunken state at the art exhibition. She’d burst into tears as she admitted her life was spinning out of control. She’d cried even harder as she told me she found out Sebastian had cheated with one of her best friends while the two of them were in Florida.

“Originally,” she’d told me with a loud sniff, “I even wanted to blame you, since you were the one who told me I couldn’t go.”

My assistant, Madison, had brought in the box of tissue I’d requested, and Rylee dabbed at her cheeks and loudly blew her nose.

“That’s when it hit me.” Rylee tossed the wad of tissues in the trash can by my desk. “I’ve made way too many excuses for him. Like that night he left me on the boat. Yeah, I’d wanted to go to harbor to see the boats, but it was his idea to break in and his idea to drink their booze. I even tried to stop him, but he told me to loosen up—obviously he was the loose one in our relationship, fucking cheater.”

Her chin quivered, and she reached for another tissue. “But I’ve made too many excuses for myself too, blaming everyone else when anything bad happens. I promise I’m going to be better, Nate. But I really, really don’t want to go to prison.”

I’d circled my desk, squatted in front of her, and assured her I’d do everything in my power to prevent that. We talked options and then she hugged me, and I couldn’t remember the last time we’d shared an embrace like that. Probably at Dad’s funeral.

Finally, the prosecutor had gotten back to me. I’d pled the case for my sister over the phone, hoping to get at least this one off my plate. The guy was a hard-ass, and it was my sister’s future on the line, so as much as I wanted to push, I gripped the phone tighter and waited for his offer. The silence stretched out, the knot in my gut constricting into one that might never come undone.

“One hundred hours of community service,” he said. “And the completion of a drug and alcohol awareness class.”

Relief flooded me, but I kept my cool. “I’ll present it to my client.” And convince her to take it. Both terms would be good for Rylee. After hanging up, I wondered if Rylee had gone to see Willa like I suggested. I figured she’d understand my sister’s pain better than anyone, as well as have a remedy how to get over a no-good cheating ex.

I sat up so fast my chair nearly bucked me out. Shit. Had I sent Rylee to someone who’d suggest the best way to get over a guy was to get under one who’d deliver wild no-strings sex?

Surely not. I raked a hand through my hair, the stress of my week leaving me as jittery as drinking an entire pot of coffee made with Red Bull. My simplest of cases kept throwing me curve balls, and I was exhausted and punchy.

What I needed was to take myself to see my girlfriend. I needed her scent invading my head, her laugh in my ear, and her next to me in bed, cuddling the shit out of me.

The intercom on my desk squawked, the noise jerking me out of my daydream. “You’ve got a visitor,” Madison said.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, exhausted at the idea of talking to one more person.

“Her name’s Willa Trainor. She says she’s your girlfriend?”

My inner cranky old man quieted, my mood turning serene as my internal organs devolved into ecstatic pandemonium. “Please escort her to my office.” I barely resisted adding, “And hurry the fuck up about it.”

Anticipation zinged through my veins, my pulse quickening with the sound of approaching footsteps. And then, as if I’d summoned her with my thoughts, Willa appeared in the open doorway beside Madison.

“Hope I’m not interrupting.” Willa lifted a grease-splattered bag that smelled like fried heaven. “I brought dinner.”

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