Holding Her Breath (Indigo) (18 page)

“So you say you have a camera,” Archie said.

He grinned. “I’ve bought three in the last two weeks.” Chace told the man about his online buying spree and his new equipment.

“You seem pretty serious about this, to put down all this money into high-end equipment. Good choices, though.”

“Thanks.”

“I belong to a local photography club. They’re pretty good. I can give you their information.” Archie began rifling through his wallet. “We maintain a pretty good blog if you want to have a look-see at some of our work. We meet on Wednesday nights.” Archie handed him a business card.

“That sounds great,” he said, getting excited at the prospect of talking craft with people. Being isolated in River Run for the past two years, he hadn’t come across many people who used cameras for much more than memorializing birthdays and baptisms. He definitely wanted to know more about the club.

Chace walked out of the store with a list of lenses Archie recommended. He saw a bistro that Whitney had pointed out as one of her favorites in the city when she’d given him a tour the other night. He pulled his small digital camera out of his pocket—a simple one he kept with him just in case a perfect shot crept up on him when he wasn’t expecting it—and took a few shots of the place. Looking back through the shots on the screen on the back of the camera, an idea started to form in his mind. Pleased with himself, he put the camera back in his pocket, hurrying toward the metro. He had to get home and bid on some of those lenses and look up the ones Archie had recommended.

He wanted to do something nice for Whitney because, for one thing, she was everything to him, whether she wanted to believe it or not. But another part of the problem was the guilt he felt.

He couldn’t tell her about the baby. That would just scare her off all the way. She was already acting iffy and kept hinting and poking, trying to see if he still had feelings for Kelly. If he told her about the baby, what little progress he’d made with her would be done for. Just over. She would tell him that meant for sure he and Kelly were getting back together. She’d probably never even hear that it might not be his. And that even if it was, he still wanted to be with her. That he never wanted to be with Kelly again.

So for now, he was just going to do as much as he could to prove himself to her until he could figure out a way to tell her about Kelly being pregnant that wouldn’t send her running in the opposite direction. Maybe if he did that, she wouldn’t be able to run away from him. He didn’t know what he would do if she did run. Didn’t want to think about it.

Instead, he would think about Whitney’s collage. And his cameras. And all of the good things happening or about to happen.

Erika gave boxing lessons at a local gym that she owned. Whitney often got free workout sessions as a result. With the way work had been going lately, she really needed to work out some aggression. She’d been grateful when she’d called and Erika had said she had an open slot.

“Dang, girl. You trying to break my hand?” Erika joked after one of Whitney’s jabbing sessions. “Something’s got you more keyed up than usual. What is it? Work? Chace?”

“Why would you say Chace? Why would you automatically assume that?” Whitney said, aware that her response probably gave her away.

“Just that you spend every moment of free time with him these days. Not that you have all that much of it. If he’s not with you when I see you, you’re talking about him. And that’s not even mentioning your hot New Year’s kiss. That was something. I’m surprised you didn’t burn down the whole club with the fire from that kiss.” Erika put her punch mitts aside, and they went over to the punching bags.

“I do not want to talk about that kiss.” Whitney punctuated every word with a blow to the punching bag that Erika held for her.

“So you keep telling me.”

“And what do you mean, every moment? He’s only been in town a couple weeks and he doesn’t know anyone. What am I supposed to do, just abandon him?”

“Don’t get so defensive. I was just making an observation.”

Whitney stopped punching and pulled off her gloves with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. It’s just—work is stressing me out. And Aunt Cheryl’s stressing Mom out, like always, so she’s stressing me out. And this Chace situation. It’s more complicated than I even want to think about.”

Erika sat down on a weight bench and patted the space next to her. “So come tell me about it.”

Whitney plunked down next to her and buried her head in her hands.

“Kim is on the warpath with this case. The absolute warpath. Any time something goes wrong or looks like it might go wrong, she’s ready with a finger to point at me,” she said. “She has Andersen, the practice group leader, thinking I’m the devil. I’m always exhausted. I’m staying out way too late with Chace way too many nights of the week I don’t get nearly as much work done on the weekends as I used to. The weekends used to be my time to get ahead on things.” She shook her head. “What’s wrong with me?” she moaned, pressing her hands tighter to her face.

“Oh, my goodness. I think I know,” Erika said. Whitney looked up to see Erika with her hand over her heart, an exaggerated look of shock on her face. “A life. She finally has a life.”

Whitney laughed. “Shut up. You’re useless.”

“Seriously. This is the most I’ve heard you talk about anything outside of that job. And the most I’ve heard of you doing things outside of that job. Chace is good for you. Maybe he’s what it’s gonna take to make you realize there’s more to the world than Gibson and Grey and climbing the ladder to the top.”

“Whatever. I don’t need a man.”

“No, not financially, but you don’t feel like something’s missing? What’s the point of partner and all that other stuff if it’s all you have? I’m worried you’ll end up with this great life and no one to share it with. And if you don’t have anyone to share it with, what’s the point?”

“I have people. My family. You, Rob, Abbott, and everybody.”

“You know that’s not what I mean. There’s an intimacy—a bond that comes from what Chace can give you that friends can’t. I think everyone can see that he wants to.” She leaned her shoulder into Whitney’s. “Even you no matter how much you try to deny it.”

“If I were interested, he’s still not over his ex. He can’t be.”

“Whitney, you mention that woman more than he does. I can’t even remember her name. That’s how rarely she comes up. Now you? He talks about you all the time.”

“It’s just a bad idea.”

“Can you give me a reason why? A real reason, not some lame excuse.”

Whitney shrugged.

“Just think about it, Whit. Think about it. Because that boy is gone over you. And I think you may be gone over him, too.”

“I’m not gone over anybody or anything. But I may be gone for good from Gibson and Grey if I don’t get my act together on this Bevyx case.”

Erika raised her eyebrows. “Not buying it.”

Whitney jumped up from the bench and started jogging in place. “C’mon. How about a mile or two around the indoor track?”

Erika snorted. “Do I look crazy to you?”

“I don’t understand how you can be a boxing coach and not like to run.”

“We ran a mile when you first got here. Besides, just because I know how to box doesn’t mean I’m in boxing shape,” Erika said. Her dad had owned a boxing gym and had been a trainer for semi-pro boxers for years before he retired. Erika didn’t train semi-pros—she taught boxing for fitness.

Whitney shrugged, draping a towel around her neck.

Erika scrunched her lips in a way that meant she wasn’t buying what Whitney was selling. “You usually complain about running yourself. Something is definitely up with you whether you want to admit it or not. And I think it’s more than your job, no matter what you say.”

“I just have some excess energy to work off.”

Erika gave her a knowing look. “I’ll bet you do. It’s been how long? You dropped Barry at least a year ago.”

Erika was right, more or less. It had been fourteen months, actually. “Mind your business.”

They laughed.

Erika said, “I’ll let that go. I know it’s gotta get lonely with just you and your C-battery-powered friend.”

“Okay. I’m gone now. Gonna get this mile in,” Whitney said after playfully swatting Erika with her towel. She jogged over to the track that encircled the weight area on one side of the gym’s main floor and the cardio equipment on the other side. Starting her first lap, she tried to shut out the true, even if annoying, words Erika had just spoken.

Every time she saw Chace, it was more and more frustrating not to touch him. And that kiss and what she’d wanted to follow it had dominated her dreams for weeks. But she wasn’t going to get in deeper. She was already distracted enough by him, just barely keeping pace at work. By normal standards, she was still going above and beyond, but by Whitney standards, she was flagging.

Still, she couldn’t help thinking he was a worthy distraction. Any other guy, she would’ve blown off while she was in the midst of a huge case at work and a brewing family drama. But Chace was one of the few things she looked forward to through it all. Suddenly her life didn’t seem the drab, make it from one day to the next kind of thing it had on a daily basis before him. She was seeing her friends more, she was experiencing life outside of Gibson and Grey more, and most importantly, she was experiencing Chace more.

She just had to remember that work came first. Chace, the too-welcome distraction, wasn’t worth destroying her dreams of making partner. Nothing was worth losing what she’d fought so hard for.

A lot of things rested on that dream. Her mother’s ability to live through her and experience all she’d been denied in life, her ability to show her grandparents that neither she nor her family were inferior, and a chance to finally fix her father’s mistakes.

Whitney had to get out of the office for a little while. When she saw that Abbott had responded to her text asking if she wanted to meet for a drink at happy hour, she was grateful the answer was yes. After telling Bettina she was running out for a moment and that she’d be back in about an hour, she hurried out of the office. Normally she would’ve invited Bettina, but that day she just wanted to get away from everything that had anything to do with Gibson and Grey for at least an hour.

She opened the door to the small, dingy bar and warm air rushed over her. She welcomed the feel of it after walking several blocks in the numbing cold. She slowed her walk, no longer having to hurry now that she was indoors.

The place smelled of stale beer and fried food. It was her favorite bar because it was cozy, the happy hour bartenders loved her, and it was close enough to walk to from the office, but far away enough that she didn’t see any of her co-workers outside of the select few she’d shared her secret discovery with—Ulrich, Bettina, and a third woman who sometimes came out with them.

Abbott wore a long, dark-colored dress. Her plaid overcoat was thrown over the back of her chair. She never wore any makeup and she didn’t need any. Abbott had a natural beauty. A glow, almost. She flipped her long red hair over her shoulders and looked up at Whitney with smiling light blue eyes. Abbott’s eyes were the palest blue Whitney had seen until she’d met Chace. Chace Murphy. Why did he keep popping up in her every thought?

Whitney gave Abbott a quick hug and then sat in the chair across from her at their small table near the bar. “Oh, Abbott, they’re trying to kill me. I have to get back right after this to finish up a few things, but I had to have a break from that place. Thanks so much for meeting me.”

“Well, I’m glad you called me for a quick escape. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” Abbott said.

“I think this quick escape is saving my sanity.” Whitney then gave Abbott a quick recap of her crazy day. “Sometimes, I wonder if it’s even worth it. Kim hates me, the partners are frowning on me because of her, and I’ve always worked twice as hard as anyone there. Just because I haven’t been dedicating my whole life to the firm recently, she jumps down my throat? It’s like she’s waiting for me to mess up. Some mentor.”

“Well, Whitney, you know what I’m going to say. I don’t see why you should torture yourself. Why don’t you just do what makes you happy? Remember when we were in law school and you used to say you wanted to do civil rights law and change the world?” Abbott sat back and spread her long fingers out on the table. She buffed her fingernails and sometimes used nail strengthener, but she never polished them.

“Yeah, that was a long time ago. Civil rights law doesn’t pay. And what was I going to do to change the world anyway? I mean, realistically? I was just dreaming and not being practical back then.”

“So I’m not practical?”

“No, Abbott, I’m not saying that. It’s just—always been different for you.”

“How so?”

“You didn’t—” She stopped herself before she said something she didn’t want Abbott to know. Abbott didn’t know what it was like to come up with nothing. Abbott’s parents were both doctors. She couldn’t possibly know about overhearing her mom cry, not knowing how she would pay the bills. About fathers and stepfathers running out and doing their families wrong. Abbott didn’t know about all the weight she carried on her shoulders, never had. Nobody knew the whole story, not even Erika, and she told Erika almost everything. She didn’t want anybody to know. Didn’t want to show them the scars. She kept those well-concealed from everyone because she didn’t want people to look at her differently, whether that look was one of pity or disdain. It didn’t matter.