Lucas

I’m miserable and everyone knows it. My mood is not helped by Sadie sticking her head around the door of my office two days after my clash with Trinity and asking, “You ready?”

“For what?”

“Lucas, darling, don’t say you’ve forgotten our lunch date!” I close my eyes, remembering now that I have a standing monthly lunch date with Susanne Henderson and Sadie, and today’s the day. That’s Susie’s voice outside my door making me feel like a chump.

“He did forget,” Sadie says. “But then his mind has been elsewhere for a while.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!”

I grab my jacket and head out to meet the ladies. Susanne is Max’s mother, a British blonde in her midfifties, and an absolute stunner. Like Sadie, she thinks I need looking after. Usually, I don’t mind playing this up because I enjoy the attention, but I’m not sure I can handle their anal probing today.

“Susie!” I hug her and do the Euro double kiss. “Left that old git you call a husband yet?”

“He’s keeping me in lavish style, darling. I’m afraid you’ll have to up your game to compete.”

Sadie sighs. “You never ask if I’ve left my husband.”

“Because your former marine, current fire captain husband, would probably kick my ass if I laid a hand on you, sweets.”

The ladies giggle. It’s a game we play.

“Mom, what are you doing here?” Max walks out of the lift, having just come in from court. He kisses his mother, then splits a look among all the parties. “Is this an intervention for Lucas? Please say it is. I have so much to say.”

“I’m taking them to lunch, Maxie,” I tell him, enjoying his surprise. These days, it’s the little things.

“You mean to say, Mom, that you’ve come all the way from the North Shore to be wined and dined by this limey idiot?”

“Hey! Less of the idiot. And can I help it if I’m too charming?” I put both my arms akimbo. “Ladies, shall we?”

We exit with the heat of Max’s glare burning holes in my back. Ten minutes later we’re seated at a nice Riverwalk eating establishment with G and Ts for our first round. Sadie and Susanne exchange a look.

“Okay, out with it.”

Susanne opens her mouth, then waves at a point behind me. I look up to see Aubrey coming toward us. She takes a seat at our table.

“Don’t say you started in on him without me.”

“Wait. Is this an actual fucking intervention?”

“Language, Lucas,” Sadie says. “We’ve added Aubrey to the think tank. It’s always good to have a millennial on board.”

“I’m a bloody millennial!” I protest.

Aubrey regards me with pity. “Yes, but you’re the problem.”

“I am not the—”

“Sadie tells me you’ve been snippy, Lucas,” Susanne cuts in. “You are never snippy. Also, that you’re engaging in public arguments in historic pizza parlors with a lovely woman who’s out of your league.”

Thanks, Max and Grant.

“You haven’t even heard about the one outside the cop shop.”

“Surprised you got this far,” Sadie offers gleefully. “In fact, we were pretty sure she wasn’t going to go for it.”

“We?”

“Max and me. We lost a bet. Grant had your number.”

Damn bunch of no-good gossips. “Why wouldn’t she go for it? I’m considered a catch, you know.”

She sips her G and T, flutters her eyelashes. “Yes, but you’re so much work, hon.”

I know that!

“And yet she likes you,” Susanne says with a pat on my hand and a gentleness in her voice.

You might say I’m ripe for mothering. No one knows about my mum or Lizzie, but these women—minus Aubrey, who I’m convinced is here to acquire ammunition for some nefarious plot—have gleaned enough to feel some ownership over me and my problems. I should be annoyed that they think I need looking after, but the truth is, I do need it.

“Trinity and I have a different way of viewing the world. Ultimately, I think people are selfish tossers who should be allowed to make mistakes and fail. Trinity wants to coddle people and wrap them up in cotton wool.”

“So she likes to care for people,” Aubrey says. “What’s wrong with that?”

I find this rich coming from the woman with edges sharp enough to slice an opposing counsel from throat to balls. My glare in her direction makes this clear.

“What’s wrong with it is when you spend so much time looking out for other people that you forget to live your own life.” I practically shout the words and earn a few weird looks from other diners.

Susanne tilts her head. “And you’ve never looked out for anyone?”

“No.” The lie tastes like stale ciggie butts on my tongue. “Better to think of number one.”

Sadie scoffs. “You don’t believe that for a second.”

Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. I certainly have been thinking of my sister less and less, as if there isn’t room in my heart for both her and the woman I’ve fallen in love with. I told Trinity to start thinking of herself, to grasp the brass ring—her own happiness—when we all know I’m talking about me. I want to be the prize.

I am such a fucking diva.

“So, she’s a do-gooder,” Aubrey says from behind her menu. “Can’t you just support her do-goodery?”

“Not when it’s enabling other people’s bad behavior. Enabling hurts people, Aubrey.”

“I suppose,” she says quietly.

Sadie’s mouth hitches at one corner. “Should I get the mac and cheese? Seems so heavy for summer.”

“You always get the mac and cheese,” I mutter.

“Hard to teach an old dog new tricks.”

I roll my eyes. “Subtlety, thy name is Sadie.”

Susanne puts her menu down; an eyebrow tilt summons the waiter. “Darling, you’d know I’d adopt you if Max wouldn’t throw a fit about all the attention it would divert from him.”

“Bloody Max. Ruining everything.”

“But I—we—can still impart wisdom honed to sharp, jagged points by years of messy motherhood. Now we all come with baggage, some of us more than others.” She flicks a glance at Aubrey, who suddenly looks incredibly sad. “You never talk about your mother, but I know she failed you somehow and that’s made you quite, well, intolerant of parents who aren’t pulling their weight in the child-rearing arena. Ultimately, you want it all to be hunky-dory and you don’t like to see anyone take advantage, especially of someone you love.”

I shift in my seat. “Maybe.”

Our waiter chooses this moment to take our orders so I can stew on what Susanne just said. Once he’s gone, Sadie picks up the baton in true tag team Sex and the City brunch style.

“You have to let her figure this out, but at the same time, maybe you could be a little less—”

“Pushy?” Aubrey says, ripping a piece of bread off the loaf just dropped at our table.

“I was going to say needy,” Sadie says, “but pushy will do.”

“So I’m a needy, pushy, intolerant, baggage-laden bugger with too-high-standards who can’t abide when my woman won’t put me first.”

“Sounds about right,” Aubrey chimes in.

“But you’re very intuitive,” Susanne soothes. “If we’d said any of this to Max or James, it would have taken them all day to get it.”

Bully for me.

All three of them smile at me, bathing me with the attention I crave. I should be in heaven, wallowing in all the drama and self-pity I’ve manufactured.

Instead I’m in hell.

Trinity

Emily is pacing the living room, her hands balled into fists of fury.

“Well, his new lawyer is a bitch. Aubrey something. Total cow!”

I cross my arms over my chest. “So where were you when your son used his one phone call, Emily?”

She snaps to attention. “My phone was out of juice and Magda was over with little Ainsley. I’ve grounded Chase for the rest of the summer. That Carlos is such a bad influence.”

I’m not so sure. I’m beginning to think Emily is just not handling her separation with a whole lot of maturity and Chase is getting the short end of the stick.

“You have more than one kid, Ems.”

Her eyes widen. “I knew this would happen. I knew he’d turn you against me.”

“Don’t be so dramatic.” My heart keens in pain, remembering my last conversation with Lucas. “I want beauty and life and beer and football. I want that with you.” And I couldn’t give it to him. “We’re not together anymore.”

Emily drags me to the sofa. “He dumped you?”

“So sure I’m the dumpee?”

“No—that’s not what I meant. You’re beautiful and confident and totally kick ass. You can get any guy you want.”

This is so ridiculous I laugh hysterically.

Emily interprets it differently. “That bastard, look what he’s done to you. I knew he was using you to spy on me.”

I don’t know that at all, and what’s more important, I don’t believe it. Lucas and I might have our differences, but I always trusted that he had my best interests at heart. Protecting me. Helping me unlock the person I want to be. I felt enveloped with him, and that’s what he wanted back. Something more all consuming than maybe I have it in me to give.

“Lucas wasn’t—isn’t like that.”

Emily pats my hand. “Sis, I know you’d like to think he wanted you for, well, you. No one likes to think they’ve been used, but let’s face it. He sold me out—sold us out—to Brian by calling him to the police station. Like a double agent when he supposedly didn’t work for him anymore.”

“No.” I pull away from her. “Lucas called Brian because he operates under a very specific value system. I don’t agree with his reasons here, but neither do I believe he targeted me to get intel on you. We never talked about you. He was too committed to maintaining an ethical separation.” I can’t explain to her about his sister, about all the pain his mother’s negligence caused him, and how all his decisions are filtered through that awful experience. It goes bone deep with him, and it’s not my story to tell.

Emily’s expression is filled with pity, and her silence makes it bloom into something malevolent.

“Do you think I can’t get a guy that amazing? Is that it?”

Her pause hurts me more than I’ll ever admit. “Of course not! I mean, yes, he’s a catch and he’s a total hottie and younger, but there’s no reason why you can’t win a guy like that. Just not this one. He’s all wrong for you.”

Really? This feels wrong. This state of not-with-Lucas feels unnatural.

I try to get us back to the real problem. Not Lucas and me, but what he said was the most important issue here. “This is about the kids, Ems, what’s best for them. If you want Brian to support two households, then downsizing shouldn’t be outside the realm of possibility. Getting a job should be on the table. And not spending all your time boozing should definitely be on the checklist.”

She barks out a laugh. “He’s brainwashed you.”

I sigh, annoyed with her obtuseness. Just plain annoyed.

Yet I still can’t let go of my part. It’s ingrained in me, the loving sister who knows best.

“I’m on your side, Emily, but…”

“But, what?”

I inhale sharply. “Why does it always have to be about you?”

“It’s—it’s not!” Her eyes well. “He chose someone else. You don’t know what it’s like to be passed over for the younger, newer model.”

“Don’t I?” My anger uncoils and sharpens my tongue. “All these years I’ve watched you with Brian. With the man who was mine before he was yours. Who I know you slept with while he was still technically my boyfriend—”

She opens her mouth. I hold up my hand.

“Don’t, Ems. I fucking can’t with you right now. I don’t want Brian. This isn’t about that, but this playing the martyr has to stop. Time to grow a pair and take control of your life.”

And maybe time to take my own advice.

---

The turnout is much better than I could have possibly expected.

My first Whiskey, Women, and Song event is a hit. Charlie with her wedding planner connections was able to snag me a private room at a bar in Lincoln Park for free. Aubrey corralled her lady lawyer posse, while Glinda ensured every soccer mom agreed to forego the Franzia rosé and give whiskey a shot. Two of Lucas’s Birds have already thrown up.

It’s a great success.

The Alanis Morissette–style singer who’s playing for tips—and making out like a bandit—has just rested her acoustic guitar for a break during her set. I’m walking around, practically orgasming at the sight of women networking and gossiping and coughing their way through the whiskey tasting. Bringing people together warms my ice-compacted heart.

I know Lucas has a penis—a lovely penis, in fact—and that this effectively disqualifies him from tonight’s event, but I still expected him to stop by. Even when we’re on the outs, I’ve never doubted his support. Unlike Emily, who has elected to take our argument and make it all about her.

She didn’t show. I might not have invited her.

“So this one has a kind of”—Penny, Charlie’s bestie, sloshes her Glenfiddich around like mouthwash and swallows—“mossy flavor.” She consults the tasting chart. “Is that right?”

I laugh. “Only if you think it tastes that way. There’s no right or wrong, but for a lot of people, it tastes of a memory. A certain nostalgia.”

I think of my granddad in his leather chair, the scent of old books, the lingering smoke of a cigar. I think of the time before when it wasn’t all on my shoulders. When I didn’t feel so alone.

I think of Lucas.

“Back in a second,” I mutter, emotion building in my chest. Over at the bar, I fuss with glasses and a bottle of Ardbeg.

“You okay?” I hear behind me.

Aubrey stands there, her dark head cocked, her expression one of mild disinterest.

“Yes, fine! Better not consort with me, the enemy and all that.”

“I think we can be professional here. And as hot as you are, I’d need a couple more of these drams in me to make a move.” She scrunches up her mouth, building to say something. “So, I want to apologize for how I behaved at Max’s party. I was sort of obnoxious.”

“Oh, God, no!”

“I was. Don’t argue with me. You’ll never win.” She grins. “I didn’t cross paths with my ex much until my firm moved into his building this summer and then at this party over at Max’s. We’ve been doing this great job of keeping our distance and I knew he was coming, so I liquored up. I’m a bit embarrassed.” She puts her drink down on the bar and stares at it accusingly. “I was getting all personal with you and shooting my mouth off, and then he shows up with someone. I thought it would take longer, I suppose.” Her eyes go suspiciously shiny.

I have no choice but to take her in my arms. She’s small and fragile, and as she relaxes into me, I marvel at how the human condition can be both so lovely and so painful.

Aubrey sniffs against my neck. “What’s this for?”

“You looked like you needed it.”

She pulls away in a slow glide. “Hey, you give good hugs.”

“I know.”

“Modest, too.” She looks at me directly, her eyes soft with emotion, but mostly with kindness. “So in all my years as a divorce lawyer, I’ve learned this much when dealing with couples, kids, friends, and family: It’s impossible not to take a side. And if you’re on the wrong end of that, it can hurt like a mother. When I split from Grant, I lost more than a husband. I lost part of my identity, and sometimes I wish I could just have a do-over with some of the fights. Take back some of the sharp words. Explain things better without all the emotion getting in the way.”

“Two divorce lawyers in a relationship—that has to be weird.”

Her smile is knowing. “You need to be on your best game, that’s for sure. What I’m trying to say is that maybe with Lucas you can try to see where he’s coming from.”

I know this is personal for him. What happened with his sister is a weight on his broad shoulders, the guilt of surviving still heavy after all these years. Yet he still found time to be here for me. When I was ill, when I needed to dig deep to find the me I used to be, when I finally realized that sharing was painful but cathartic.

If ever anyone needed to be called on her shit, it’s me.

Aubrey nods at a point over my shoulder. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Hey, sis.” I turn to find Emily, her big blue eyes blinking in trepidation. Oh, my heart. She came out to support me, found a way even though I didn’t invite her. Maybe she’s more resourceful than I gave her credit for.

“Ems!”

“Looks like a good night.” She arcs her gaze over the space, her mouth in a wobble.

“I’m so glad you made it.”

“Trin, I’m sorry,” she says, her voice shaking. “About Brian. About Chase. About taking you for granted and being an all-’round bitch.”

“No, no, that’s not true. We both settled into a groove that worked for so long, and maybe we just needed a reset.” I hold her arms to get a good look at her. Her eyes are red, raw from emotion. “I’ve tried to be there for you, but—”

“I haven’t been there for you?”

“No! I haven’t let you be. I wanted to be the one everyone relies on, the strong shoulders, so I could—I don’t know—feel superior, I suppose. I’ve underestimated your strength, Ems. You can survive Brian and you don’t need my help, but I’m here if you do.”

“Jesus, Trin. How could I do any of this without you? I’m already a mess, just think what I’d be like if I didn’t have you in my life.” We fall into each other’s arms, our beef not forgotten, but I hope halfway to being forgiven.

For the next hour, I squire Emily around, introducing her to people, and watch as she networks and builds new friendships. Who knows? Maybe she’ll find a job out of a conversation she has tonight. And if she doesn’t, we’ll figure it out—as a team.

A little later, my phone buzzes. It’s him! I take a deep breath and answer cheerfully, feeling confident that it’s a good night for reconciliation.

“Hey!”

“Hullo, Trin. Not disturbing you, am I?”

“Not, not at all. How are you?”

“Oh, hot as ever. You know.”

He sounds off, his voice a slight slur wrapped in faux cheer. God, I’ve missed him. “Lucas, are you…drunk?”

“I might have had a few. Drank some of that shite you ply to your punters.”

Shock bolts through me. “You’re drinking whiskey?”

“I am. Keeps you in my head. I knew you had your event tonight, so I raised a glass or two in your honor. Going good?”

“Yeah, great. A nice showing.”

“Well, I know I’m not a woman, but I would have snuck in if I was there, love.”

Then why didn’t you? Why are you not here?

“I just wanted to wish you well and say I’m sorry and hear your voice before—before I go to sleep.”

His voice breaks on the second before and I realize that something is terribly wrong. And sleeping? Why would he be sleeping at 9 P.M.?

“Baby, where are you?”

“Nowhere. Everywhere. Citizen of the world, that’s me. I—” He inhales a shaky breath. “I shouldn’t have bothered you. I’m sorry about what happened. About everything. You’re right. Family is all that matters and I had no right to tell you different. To tell you how to deal with your damage. I brought my personal stuff into it and fuck—Trinity, I screwed up.”

He sounds so broken. I search for the right words, for the glue that can stick him back together.

“You didn’t screw up. You just feel so much. In fact, you said a lot of things that made me think about how I’ve been handling everything. We’ve all got baggage. You know I do. It’s okay to unpack it every now and then. I’ll happily help you sort through it.”

He snorts. “You don’t need my baggage, love.”

“Oh, but I do. I’m the best baggage handler there is. Emily’s, my own. Lay it on me, baby. Let me take the weight for you as you’ve never failed to do for me.”

“God, I love you,” he says, just like that.

My heart explodes into a million tiny fragments. I’m searching for them, trying to piece them back together, but he’s still speaking.

“I should go. Just needed to feel your footprint.”

“Luc—”

He’s already hung up.