Page 34 of Chasing Forever

“What?”

“Every time I think you couldn’t possibly get any better, you do something like this to prove me wrong. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Keep searching for something hidden beneath the surface. But there isn’t anything hiding, is there?”

It broke my heart that she’d suffered so much she now struggled to trust the good in people... inme. But I couldn’t deny that it felt damn good to know she was starting to trust her gut when it came to me.

“No, Dandelion. There’s nothing there. This is just who I am. But you take as much time as you need to believe it. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her hands came up and her delicate fingers wrapped around my wrists. “I think I already believe it.”

Christ, she was killing me. I started to lean in, her lips calling to me like a siren, when a throat cleared from behind us and broke the spell.

A string of curses colorful enough to make a sailor blush flew through my head on fast forward as I gritted my teeth and lowered my hands from Merritt’s face.

We turned together to face the woman standing a few feet away, and just like the lobby, Rochelle Winslow dripped with class. The bold red of her skirt suit complemented the dark brown of her skin, but it also managed to make a serious statement, and what it said waspower. Her heels cost more than one month’s paycheck. Tight dark brown curls framed her face and jawline. Her makeup was flawlessly applied, and her expression gave absolutely nothing away as she studied the two of us like a specimen beneath a microscope. One perfectly arched brow rose as she asked, “Ms. Bell, I presume?”

Merritt cleared her throat and stepped away from me like we’d got caught making out in the school library. She wiped her palms on the thighs of her slacks as her cheeks pinkened under the woman’s scrutiny.

Fuck, even I had to admit, she had me more than a little intimidated, but I managed to keep from squirming and held my stance.

“Yeah. Yes. Sorry. I’m Ms. Bell. I mean Merritt Bell. But please, call me Merritt. Everyone does. Because it’s my name.” She let out a manic laugh that only made her discomfort that much more noticeable.

I couldn’t watch her flounder and not do something to help. Reaching out, I took her hand in mine and brushed my thumb over the rapid pulse in her wrist. “Hi. This is Merritt, and I’m Tristan Fanning. I’m the one who called to make the appointment.”

Ms. Winslow watched me for one heartbeat. Then two. I got the impression she was taking my measure.

“Of course. It’s good to meet you both. If you’ll follow me, my assistant has prepared the conference room. We’ll get right to it.”

She turned on her heel without another word, expecting we’d follow. Merritt met my gaze and bugged her eyes out, mouthing, “Wow,” in a dramatic way that made me smile as we followed Merritt’s new attorney, hand-in-hand.

Apparently, preparing a conference room consisted of ordering a large assortment of pastries and coffee, along with water, juice, and soda. The table seated at least twelve, however the rest of it was untouched, except for the seats closest to the door. There was a folder in front of the rolling chair at the head of the table and another by the first chairs on either side.

She waved a hand at the table. “Please, take a seat. And feel free to help yourself to something to eat and drink.”

I knew Merritt well enough to know she’d be too anxious to eat, so I reached across the spread to pluck up a bottle of her favored grape juice and passed it to her. Her eyes flared with surprise in that way they always did when I did something or took notice of something in a way she hadn’t expected.

A small part of me liked being able to surprise her like that, because it meant I’d made her happy. But a bigger part bristled every time I saw it, because that selfish son of a bitch had neglected her to the point that she was more used to fading into the wallpaper than being noticed.

I helped myself to a cheese danish and a cup of coffee before plucking up the folder on the table across from Merritt and moving around to take the chair beside hers.

Ms. Winslow watched the whole thing, not that I could tell what the hell she was thinking with that blank look on her face.

“Before we go any further, I need to know exactly what’s going on between the two of you.” She looked our way, pointing her finger between Merritt and me.

I felt Merritt stiffen, her back shooting straight. “W-what do you mean?”

“I mean, are you together? And if so, who all knows? Did this start before or after you left your husband”—she flipped open the folder in front of her and took a quick glance—“roughly three and a half months ago and moved to Maryland?”

From the corner of my eye, I could see Merritt’s cheeks go from pink to pale. “No. We aren’t together. We’re friends.”

Ms. Winslow lifted that brow again. “But you are living together.”

“Y-yes, but?—”

I cut in, the discomfort the woman was causing setting my blood to a simmer. “Merritt initially left Hope Valley to escape a husband who had been abusing her for years,” I clipped, anger clear in my tone. Merritt noticed too, because she reached under the table and placed her hand on my knee to offer comfort. “She moved in with me when she was ultimately forced to return in order to care for her nephew after her brother overdosed and eventually ended up behind bars. She had no other place to stay, and given that she was important to my sister, I offered up my home for two reasons. The first was that I simply wanted to help. The second was that I wanted to keep her safe.” That was at least partially true. But I didn’t think this woman needed to know I’d been just a bit obsessed with Merritt from the start.

Ms. Winslow sat back in her chair, doing that thing again where she took silent stock before coming to a decision or a judgment. It was disconcerting, to say the least, but I imagined it worked like a charm in court.

“Mr. Fanning, I assure that I mean no disrespect in my line of questioning. I don’t care one way or another if you two are involved. Personally, given the animal your husband appears to be, Ms. Bell, I’m kind of hoping there is. I only need to know everything if I’m going to represent you to the very best of my abilities. That means no secrets that could pop up and blindside me. I must warn you, I’m not a fan of being blindsided. It tends to make me cranky.”

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