CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
I got back to my apartment, I called and ordered dinner from the Italian place down the street and paid extra to have them rush the order. I wanted everything ready and waiting when Dax arrived. Then, I opened a bottle of wine, poured myself a glass and carried it back to my bedroom where I stripped off my work clothes and slipped into something much more comfortable – and accessible.
I made a quick sweep of my apartment to make sure that everything was presentable, wiped out the bathroom sink and put the dishes in the drainer away. The food arrived quickly, so I set up the dining room table and then, looking at the clock, tucked the food into the oven and set it on low. I wasn't exactly sure when Dax would arrive, and I didn't want to take a chance that the food would be cold if business kept him at the club longer than he expected.
Then, I went out into the living room and collapsed on the couch. My body felt heavy, almost liquefied, and I felt a drowsy satisfaction overwhelm me as I curled up under a quilt. I was pulled out of my dream state when an acrid scent invaded my nostrils and made my brain scream, "Fire!"
I awoke and jumped up off the couch and ran toward the terrible smell. In the kitchen, I yanked open the oven door and found the remnants of dinner baked to a blackened crisp that was giving off a noxious dark cloud of smoke. I quickly thrust my hands into pot holders and pulled the ruined food out of the oven and dumped it in the sink where I ran cold water over it until there was nothing left but a cold soggy mass of cardboard, aluminum, and blackened chicken parmesan.
I looked at the clock on the microwave and gasped when I saw that it was six in the morning. I'd spent the night on the couch because Dax had never shown up. I checked my phone to see if he'd called, but there was no message or text. To say I was disappointed was an understatement, but as I thought about the night before, I wondered if perhaps I'd been played.
Dax had been angry with me after I'd abandoned him at Beso, so it would make sense that he'd want his pound of flesh, and I'd been all too willing to supply it. As I replayed the conversation, I realized that he'd never answered any of my questions about Lydia; he'd just evaded answering them and then turned the tables and pushed all the right buttons. I was ripe for the picking and he knew it.
The sex we'd had in the back room of Dooley's had been the hottest, most passionate sex I'd ever had, but it had been a cover for what Dax had really wanted – revenge. I was the fool who'd bought his innocent act because I'd wanted to see him that way. The strong silent guy who was heartbroken but getting by. I wanted to believe he had nothing to do with Lydia's death, but the reality was that he probably did kill her or at least had a hand in her killing. So, he'd preyed on my weakness and my guilt over having bolted, seduced me, and then made a promise he never intended to keep.
And why would he? After all, I was the lawyer who was pushing for answers that he didn't want to give. Seeing me again would only mean he would have to make up more lies to cover his tracks and Dax didn't seem like a man who liked complications.
Of course he wasn't going to show up. I felt like a fool for abandoning logic for hope. He must have thought I was a total idiot for buying into his lies.
I stood in my kitchen staring down into the mess in my sink as I bit my lip and tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. I swore to myself that I was not going to allow a con artist to ruin my life or break my heart. Then, I laughed out loud at the idea that I could have considered myself open enough to suffer heartbreak. I didn't know Dax Malone well enough to like him let alone fall in love with him.
I opened up the cupboard, pulled out the trashcan, and threw the sodden mess into it before I yanked out the bag and tied it in a knot. I wasn't going to ruin my life by ruminating on all the reasons why Dax Malone didn't show up. Instead, I was going to get dressed and head into the office so that I could give Jordie and Roger the run down on how they were going to gather clients from central booking, then I'd make an appointment to talk with William Grant and see if I couldn't lure one big fish into our practice.
I wasn't going to let this slight detour create a roadblock that would keep me from saving my law firm. Instead, I was going to do what I always did, put my nose to the grindstone and find a way to make everything work out so that I came out on top.