Page 8 of Live Love Steal
“Your ex didn’t show up.”
“What?” Did that mean I won?
“She didn’t show up.”
That sounded exactly like her. But I always thought she’d fight for this. It was discouraging to find out she cared so little about our son that she’d not even try. Even if it was only to spite me. But my lawyer was not happy. Maybe it was all the money she was going to lose out on if there wasn’t a fight. But something in her face made me want to clarify the situation. “So, I won, right?”
“No.”
I braced. “Why?”
“Because you were running late, they postponed it to tomorrow. And with the postponement, it was reassigned to another judge who could pick up the case. Unfortunately, it’s the one I warned you about. We’re going to have a special session in that judge’s chambers at ten. Here’s the information. Can you make it?”
Come hell or high water, I would. “Yeah. Here, right?”
“This floor, down the hall. I’ll meet you at the end over there at nine thirty. Don’t be late this time.”
I opened my mouth to remind her that the elevator got stuck, but she walked away, obviously too busy to fucking give me the time of day despite all the trouble I went through to get here and the money I shelled out.
I wanted to hit something. Or cry. Or something.
Instead, I found a spot in a corner and parked my ass on the carpet. Instinctively, I curled up and wrapped my arms around my knees and put my head down to shut out the entire world. I bottled myself up, keeping a lid on the frustration and anger seething inside. Otherwise, I’d go on a rampage.
Then I’d never see Noah again. I reminded myself of that. Over and over, don’t fuck up. Don’t kill something. Don’t give up.
“David?”
I glanced up. Isobel squatted in front of me. “Hey.”
She sat down, curling her legs to one side like a princess. Her hand wrapped around one of mine. “Bad news?”
I couldn’t breathe. Somehow, I managed to squeeze out, “Postponed.”
Her fingers tightened around mine. “Take a minute to inhale and exhale. Start with me. Inhale for four seconds, one… two… three… four. Now hold it for one… two. Exhale slow through your mouth. Three… four… five… six… seven. Inhale.” She kept counting with me and helping me breathe. Slowly, I unwound from my ball of misery.
“I wasn’t having a panic attack.”
“No, you weren’t, but you were having a rough time.” Her warm brown eyes locked onto mine. The sincerity in them made me want to confess the sins embedded into my soul, curl up in her honesty, and get lost forever.
“You’re beautiful.” I hadn’t meant to say it; it just came out.
Isobel smiled. The corners of her eyes crinkled, turning her face into a work of art. “Thank you.”
Before I could blurt out something else just as sappy, I said, “Did you think about getting lunch?”
“I really should get back to work. How about a rain check?”
“I can do that. I’ll walk you to your car.” I didn’t ask. Her hand was still in mine, and I didn’t want to let go of it. But I had to as we got her devices unlocked and returned those stupid neon bags of shame. Getting out of the building was a lot easier than getting in. On the steps, I stopped to make sure she was behind me.
Movement to the right caught my eye. I knew the punk leaning against the pillar. Victor was a two-bit dealer we’d had trouble with recently. He used more product than he moved and owed the intermediary a shit ton of scratch. Moreover, rumor had it his ol’ lady split the scene. That meant he had no income coming in. He’d be out on the streets soon enough. We told his contact to cut him off.
But here he was, hanging around the courthouse. It made me wonder if he was narcing on someone. I made a mental note to talk to Bear about it.
He caught me staring and took off like a gazelle. That’s right, asshole, run.
Isobel caught up to me. It was a good thing she lagged behind. Otherwise, that dickweed might have spotted us together.
I was having second thoughts about this. I didn’t want her being targeted by the numerous criminals we were pissing off lately. Over the last five years, we’d scaled back our presence and cut off some of the more volatile businesses. Then our president moved up in the ranks, painting a bigger target on our backs, and we scaled back more, keeping only the contacts we had a solid track record with, and letting the others flap in the breeze. It created a vacuum in the area.
