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Authors: Liz Crowe

Escalation Clause (39 page)

BOOK: Escalation Clause
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She shivered, pulling a robe around her, recalling his words about “no re-snip.” Counting back she realized that they’d likely done it again, then had the simultaneous realization that it was okay. The scary, messy miscarriage had really thrown her. She had mourned the loss in a way she never thought she would. She put her hand on her flat stomach, pondering the reality of a third child at her age. She realized she’d be in good company when she pictured Suzanne’s blush and Craig’s happy face at Lila and Rob’s wedding. And, of course, Lila herself was due in just a few more months.

She heard the garage door open, then smiled at the sight of her tall, handsome, compelling, frustrating, creative, successful and aggravating spouse, with a couple of Whole Foods bags in his hands. “Went with ‘whole paycheck’ eh, Jack?” she asked using his name for the expensive gourmet grocery.

“Yeah, figured we should celebrate, you know, spend three hundred dollars on food and wine I could get at Meijer for a hundred and fifty. What can I say? I admire the nerve of them charging me that much.” He emptied the bags, put the beer and wine away, then rinsed off a huge container of strawberries.

“Mmm…my favorites,” she said, putting her arms around him from behind. He turned, kissed her deeply then put a red fruit to her lips. She bit down on it, and then laughed as he picked her up and sat her on the island and fed her strawberries, bites of dark chocolate, morsels of rich cheese, and sips of wine. She ran her fingers through his hair, placed some food between his lips. They talked about the soccer team, the kids, Rob’s new gig as star of a food show, Craig and Suzanne’s upcoming wedding. “So,” she said, finally pulling him close and feeding him a few bites of the picnic. “You want to turn me into a brood mare? Then what? You know, when I’m worn out.”

“I’ll put you to pasture dear, don’t worry. I won’t let you starve.”

She took the spoon from the bowl of whipped cream and stuck it to his nose. “Hey!” he yelped, dipped some out with his finger and tried to stick it in her ear.

She jumped down and ran down the hall, with him hot on her heels. They put the bowl of cream to good use in the bedroom, but she was more than a little sticky by the time they finished. They lay in the messy sheets, and she was about to drift off when he spoke.

“Sara,” he said, kissing her hair. “I love you.”

“I know,” she turned over, pulling him with her so they lay close, letting the ceiling fan cool their bodies. She put his hand on her belly. “And I’m okay with it. Considering you probably knocked me up passing me in the hall this morning. All this other effort was likely unnecessary.”

He kissed her shoulder. “Maybe, but damn was it fun.”

“Yeah.” She drifted off again. “It was.”

 

Later that month, they sat with the kids and watched Suzanne and Craig exchange vows and rings and a long, sexy kiss in front of about fifty people under a white tent in the Big House Beer Garden. They clapped, and tears streamed down her face at the sight of the tall, handsome blond man and the petite, feisty red head as they kept kissing, and kissing as the wolf whistles and catcalls started.

Later, she gave him a huge hug and clinked beer glasses with the man she had once loved, briefly if for no other reason than the fact that he was such a great fucking guy. “You’re a great fucking guy,” she said.

He smiled, kissed her cheek. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

“How’s she doing?” She looked over his shoulder at Suzanne who was chatting with some friends and had her hand resting unselfconsciously on the bump under her pretty yellow sundress. “No issues? I know she was a nervous wreck and didn’t want to do the amnio.”

Craig rolled his eyes. “She didn’t want to, but we did, and all seems well on that front. She gets really tired easily, of course, and is thirsty all the time, so I suspect she’s developing gestational diabetes. But, I’m monitoring it like a hawk.”

“Ow,” the woman in question dropped into the seat next to Craig. He looked at her, and Sara saw the worry dart across his eyes but then was proud of him when he didn’t overact.

“Feet hurt?” he asked, running his finger down her flushed face.

“No.” she sipped some water. “My back.”

 “Again?” he stood, looking around as if he wanted everyone to leave. Suzanne pulled him back down.

“It’s okay, babe, calm down. You just got me all worked up with that ‘kiss the bride’ moment.” She patted his cheek. He smiled and Sara felt content, knowing they were finally going to be happy together.

“Okay, you guys, we are gonna take off.” She saw Jack with Brandis on his shoulders talking to Evan and Julie. All seemed well there, too. Now, if only Jack’s sister could get her love life sorted out. She gestured to her husband and he nodded. She kissed Suzanne’s cheek. “Keep us posted. Don’t overdo it. I want the ‘going to the hospital’ call. I mean it.”

Suzanne nodded. “Of course. We’ll let everyone know, never fear.”

Sara flushed and nodded, emotion clogging her throat. Damn she was a weepy mess lately. She put a hand on her own stomach, wishing for the very first time that there was indeed new life there, but she figured she had a while to wait to find out.

Craig put an arm around her shoulders and walked her over to Jack. The men shook hands and Brandis reached over to tug Craig’s shaggy hair. “Doc!” he yelped.

“Yep, that’s me.” He smiled. “Congratulations,” he said. Jack shot him a puzzled look as he slid the boy off his shoulders and to the ground where he promptly dropped to his hands and knees and chased some birds under the nearest table.

Jack put his arm around her. Craig held her hand. “You are positively glowing. I know I have a doctor’s radar but I’m pretty sure….”

She felt the blush cover her face. “Well….”

“You’ll be fine,” he kissed her hand then dropped it. “That last time was as fluke. It happens. There’s no reason you shouldn’t be able to carry this one to term.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Jack shook his hand. He nodded over to Suzanne. “Take care of her. She’s special.”

“I will,” Craig said as he made his way back over to his wife, grabbing Brandis and pulling him out from the table before he concussed himself standing up under it. “Watch it there little Jack.” He brushed the boy’s knees off and pointed him in a different direction before tugging Suzanne up from the chair and holding her close.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

 

Maureen stared at the email, clutching her first cup of coffee, opened the attachment from an attorney’s office and stood, her face red with fury. “Mrs. Perkins,” she barked, “I need the Chamberlin file. Now.” She paced and sipped, gathering her thoughts about the fact that one of their best building clients was suing Keystone Construction for breach of contract. It took too long, they claimed, came in over budget, and they were not advised of overages in a timely manner. Fucking-A. She stopped, staring out the window of her office at the Ann Arbor street scene below. Anger roiled in her brain. She’d let Brian have that damn account even though her instincts had screamed at her to handle it herself. The guy had been with the company nearly ten years, but she didn’t like him, no matter what Jack said. He was a pompous woman-hater, pissed that Jack hadn’t named him as general manager and had endeavored to make her life a living hell ever since.

And now?

She slammed the cup down and re-read the message taking the file from her assistant without looking up from the screen. Mrs. Perkins stood nervously over her shoulder until Mo turned and handed her the cup, giving her an excuse to get the hell out. She hit Jack’s quick dial on her phone.

“Hey, sister,” he said, sounding like he was in a wind tunnel.

“That asshole has screwed us with the Chamberlin family.” She bit back the urge to say “I told you so.”

“What? What asshole? What happened?”

“Where are you, anyway? I can barely hear you.” She accepted the fresh coffee with a nod, irritated at Jack and everyone around her at the moment.

“Underneath the ground downtown Detroit trying to figure out if I can afford to build the stadium I want with the current lame infrastructure.”

She rolled her eyes. Her brother and his projects. “Whatever, listen, I’ve essentially been served and—”

“What? Served? Jesus, what happened?”

“If you would get somewhere you could hear me I’ll tell you.”

“Okay, I’m out now. Fill me in.”

By the time she’d finished, he was cursing as much as she was. “Okay, bring him in to your office. I’ll be there to….”

“No, Jack. I’m handling it.”

There was a significant amount of silence. “Maureen, Brian is a jerk. You’ve said so yourself. I kept him on because I thought his pluses outweighed his minuses. I was wrong. Let me do it—”

“I am handling it. You made me head of the company. I won’t let him think when the going gets tough I call in my big brother.” Her face was hot and her chest hurt in anticipation of the confrontation.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure, but I’m forwarding you this paperwork. It’s legalese, and last I checked that was your area.”

“Yeah, I’ll read it and draft a response. You get that ass hat in your office and make him tell you what happened. Have him bring all four of his subs in too at the same time. See if their stories square up. Then fire the fucker.”

“I think I knew that part without you telling me.”

“Okay. Sorry.”

“Talk soon,” her hands shook as she put the phone on her desk. “Mrs. Perkins, get Brian, Jim, Mike, Tony and Brad in here. Right now. No excuses.”

“Okay, hon,” the woman sang out.

She stood and paced, rubbing her hands together, then on the nubby linen of her skirt. She sat then stood up and paced some more, her brain whirling with possible scenarios. She’d been in charge of Keystone for nearly a year and was ready to start slashing and burning, now that she had her head around the scope and future of the company. She wanted to reduce the small renovation work, even a lot of the residential crap, and focus on the commercial and industrial work that had made Keystone a success years ago. Ann Arbor was ablaze with expansion, and that was where the money was, period. All the bullshit custom blah-blah McMansion crap that Jack and her dad had done in the fat years was gone, period. And the only people left who could afford it were pains in everyone’s ass—like the Chamberlins. But that was no excuse for over budget and time to the tune of a frivolous and annoying lawsuit.

She put her suit jacket on, covering her bare arms when Mrs. Perkins told her the crew would be in her office in twenty minutes. She had to gather her thoughts, and remain calm, professional. Not be the hysterical female they expected. A tough balancing act, but she felt like she could handle it. She grabbed her phone and dialed Rafe’s number, needing to hear him before she hit this conflict.


Mi amor,”
he purred in her ear, calming her instantly. She sat, put her head on the desk.

“I have to fire an entire group of contractors in the next twenty minutes. Tell me how great I am, quick, before I lose my nerve.”

“Maureen, you should let Jack—”

She sat back up. “No, Rafe. I’m the president of Keystone now, I handle this.”

“Okay. Sorry. I just meant…well, is it that Brian person you’ve been bitching about?”

“Yeah. And his entire useless crew.”

“I don’t know if I like this.”

She frowned, fiddled with her hair, read the email again, and let anger pierce the nervous gloom gathering in her mind. “Don’t like what?” But, she knew the answer. They’d hit this bump in the relationship road recently, when he showed all the signs of being a fairly classic Latino alpha male, up to and including his disbelief that she went out to work every day because she wanted to, not because she had to.

But, he stayed silent and she valued that, and loved him even more for it. “Call me after, okay?” He hung up. She stared at the device and realized that he had taken the high road just then, gone against his inner macho man and let her handle it without commenting. She sucked in a huge breath, put on some lip gloss and squared her shoulders. The phone double-buzzed with a text message from Rafe.

BOOK: Escalation Clause
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