Desperate Measures Page 8

  “Yes, someday.” Pete thought his uncle’s voice sounded sad.

  “Let’s go, Peter. We have some celebrating to do. It isn’t every day I have a nephew graduating from Harvard. Well done, Peter. Well done indeed.”

  “I’m ready to celebrate, Leo,” Pete replied.

  “Then let’s do it.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Pete felt himself at loose ends. He’d just finished up a job and had four days to kill, four days to catch up on paperwork. Paperwork his paralegal couldn’t handle. He should be doing something, or at least looking forward to doing something. But what?

  Leo was away on a business trip. For some reason, every single guy Pete knew had gotten married during the five years since he’d left college, so there was no one to hang out with at night. He didn’t have a lady at the moment, but he did have a little black book with dozens of numbers. He knew he could just make a call and have a dinner date and even sex if he picked the right number.

  Or, he could drive to Boston. See Annie. Fly to Boston. He would get there quicker. See Annie. Yeah, seeing Annie was at the top of the list. Should he call first or surprise her? Always call first, Sorenson, he thought. Annie’s a big girl now, and involved. He’d always thought he’d be the one to get involved first. Why hadn’t he? Because, you dumb schmuck, you thought Annie would ... yessss ... that Annie would see you were the one for her. Ah, but are you, Sorenson? Can you see yourself getting it on with Annie? Oh, yeahhhh. Then how come you didn’t after that Paris trip? Because I was fucking stupid, that’s why. He’d thought she was being nice, thanking him for taking her on the trip, that Annie’s kiss had been impulsive. But Annie wasn’t an impulse person. He didn’t want her to regret it later. How in the damn hell do you know she’d regret it later? he asked himself now. Because she said so. She said she didn’t want to screw up their friendship. She said that and a lot of other things. He cared about her too much to put her in that kind of position.

  Isn’t that her decision? Who appointed you God, Sorenson? You don’t love Annie. If you did, you wouldn’t be able to eat or sleep. You’d want to spend every waking moment with her. You’d get light-headed and start to look sappy, and other people would notice. Question, Sorenson: If Annie Gabriel worked here in the city, would you spend more time with her? Hell yes. I rest my case.

  Love starts off as a friendship and grows. Forget that business about eye contact across a crowded room, that only happens in fiction. Love is something that has to develop. Love is knowing the other person inside and out. Your problem, Sorenson, is you’re not ready to commit to anything. Why is that?

  He hated these talks with himself. He’d fly to Boston, and if Annie were busy, he’d meander over to Harvard and talk with a few of his old law professors. Yeah, yeah, that’s what he’d do if Annie were busy.

  In fact, Annie was in court, and his law professors were busy with prior commitments. He called Dennis and made a date for lunch after leaving a message for Annie.

  It was a warm day, great for walking. He preferred to walk with someone, but since Annie was in court, he headed for the park to drink in some sunshine and do a bit of daydreaming until it was time to meet Dennis for lunch.

  It took him a full five minutes to find an unoccupied bench. He watched the children scamper about, their mothers close by. God, once he’d been that young, but he wasn’t carefree like these youngsters with their balls and bicycles. He thought about Barney, and wondered where he was and what he was doing at this very second.

  Barney.

  Someday, somehow, he was going to find Barney and ... and tell him that when things were darkest, when it looked like he was never going to get out from under, thinking about him and what he’d say and how he’d react was what got him through, so that he was able to take his place in the grown-up world called society. He needed to tell him that Duke and Nathaniel tried to find him.

  “You changed my life, Barney,” Pete murmured. He looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to him. It didn’t appear that anyone noticed him at all. Still, better not to talk to Barney, better to think about Barney. In the end it was the same, because Barney never answered back.

  Jesus, Barney, I’ve got you tied up to Einstein, Socrates, and the President. It’s like you have all the answers. Why is that? Yeah, you were a couple of years older than me. Maybe it was because you had guts. I swear to God, Barney, I think it’s because you told Dave Watkins to kiss your ass. I say that too, but only in moments when all else seems to fail. I don’t say it any old time. I’m selective, like you were.

  You know something, Barney? You changed my life. I know I told you this so many times, but saying it makes me feel good. Talking to you, thinking about you, makes me take a step back so I can think twice, wonder what you’d do or say in a particular situation. As a kid, I thought you knew everything, that you had all the answers. I bet you still do.

  Aloud, Pete said, “Jesus, Barney, I wish you were here.” A second later he was back in his think mode, when two women wheeling baby carriages approached his bench.

  I bet you’re married now and have a kid. I know you’re the best father in the world. I bet you take care of your mom too. Just the way I’d take care of mine if she were here.

  About you coming for me on my sixteenth birthday—I forgive you. I never said that before. I know if there was a way for you to keep that promise, you would have, just as I would have.

  I have money now, Barney. Lots of money. I’m almost ashamed to tell you how much. If you aren’t in business as a horticulturist, I could set you up. We could go to ball games and have barbecues. I swear to God, Barney, I’d give it all up if you’d just come back into my life. 1 need a good friend, a buddy, a pal. Annie’s all those things, like you were. I wish I could talk to you about Annie. Sometimes she eats at my soul and I don’t know what to do about it. Do you think that’s love? What the fuck is love anyway?

  Pete looked at his watch. Time to move his feet. He squared his shoulders at the same moment a soccer ball whacked him in the back, moving him two steps forward.

  “Gimme my ball, mister,” a child of six or so bellowed.

  “Yeah, give him his ball,” a second, older-appearing child said belligerently.

  “I’m sorry, mister,” the first child said.

  “I know that, son, here you go,” Pete said, holding out the ball. The second boy stared at him.

  He was back in Iselin, New Jersey, and he was staring at himself and Barney. He grinned. “That was some kick.”

  “Don’t you be talking to him, Sam, he’s a stranger,” the older boy said.

  “He’s right, son,” Pete called over his shoulder. “Always listen to your friend.”

  “I’m not his friend, I’m his brother,” the boy shot back.

  Pete stopped and turned. “All the more reason for you to listen to him,” he said, his eyes on the boy named Sam.

  Two drinks into lunch made Pete realize he didn’t like his old roommate Dennis at all. He was a know-it-all, my-way-is-best type. Why hadn’t he seen that side of him when they were in law school? Because he was so damn busy spending all his time at Annie’s, he thought, so Dennis could bring his dates back to their apartment, that’s why.

  What the hell did Annie see in him?

  “So, Pete, how’s it really going? The legal scuttlebutt is you’re going to be a legend in your own time. The know-it-alls are taking bets. Five years they say.” Pete heard the envy in Dennis’s voice and chose to ignore it.

  “Well, I’m busting my ass, if that counts. I’m traveling three weeks out of every month. I know just about every hotel in the world, and the stewardesses call me by name. If that’s the stuff legends are made of, then maybe so.”

  The envy was still in Dennis’s voice when he said, “Those in the know are saying you walked away with five hundred thou for a real estate deal you worked out in Gstaad. True or false?”

  “Put a one in front of the five and you’ll be on the money,
” Pete lied. You deserve the lie, Dennis. I’d never even dream of asking you how much money you make.

  “Jesus! I guess it pays to be connected. I’m gonna be slaving away for the rest of my life, and when I die, I probably won’t have that much socked away.”

  Pete finished his beer and signaled for a refill. Dennis was drinking a vodka gimlet.

  “So, Pete, what’s your game plan? If you’re earning the kind of money you claim, what are you going to do with it? You say you’re busting your ass, so that doesn’t leave time to spend it. I don’t get it,” Dennis said, slurring his words slightly.

  There was no way he was going to tell this son of a bitch that he donated hundreds of thousands of dollars to orphanages all over the country, Pete thought. There was no way he was going to tell him he was doing his best to provide for his own future and a rainy day. Dennis would never understand. Dennis wouldn’t care either. Dennis lived for the moment. Spend, spend, was Dennis’s credo. Jesus, Annie, what have you gotten yourself into?

  “Well?” Dennis snapped.

  “I just sock it away and let it earn interest. Why, are you thinking of hitting me up for a loan?” Pete asked irritably.

  “Are you offering?”

  “No,” Pete said curtly.

  “Annie told me you offered her a loan to pay off her student loans and she refused. She has pride. So do I. We’ll make it on our own. We don’t need you to lord it over us.”

  “What’s this we stuff? Is that how you look at it, I’m lording something over you? Kiss my ass, Dennis. I thought we were friends. I value friends and work damn hard to keep them. You know what? You aren’t worth a good spit. What Annie sees in you is beyond me. I’ll get the check, since I invited you.”

  He paid the check at the front of the restaurant and was outside a moment later. He drew deep, ragged breaths. What was that all about? Whatever it was, he wasn’t ever going to allow it to happen again.

  Pete hailed a cab to the courthouse. He’d watch Annie in action. Maybe he’d pick up a few pointers. Annie was the best.

  He settled himself in the back of Judge Leland’s courtroom. She looked good. Damn good. Annie was wearing a navy-blue suit with a high-necked, white silk blouse. A single strand of pearls looked to be her only jewelry. He felt something tug at his heart.

  When court adjourned at four-thirty, Pete walked up to the railing and said, “Hey, counselor, how about a drink? Looks like you’re going to win this one.”

  Her smile was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. “Pete, how nice to see you. I love it when you just pop in. Are you here to visit, or just passing through?”

  “Well, I was going to invite you and Dennis for dinner, but he and I had lunch and I blew any thoughts of that happening.”

  Annie frowned as she snapped the lock on her briefcase. “I swear this thing gets heavier every day. Pretty soon I’m going to need a dolly to carry it. What happened, did Dennis get on his high horse, or did you say something out of line? You’re good at that, Pete.”

  “Let’s walk, it’s beautiful out. Give me the bag,” he said, reaching for Annie’s briefcase. She willingly handed it over.

  When they were outside, walking, Pete asked, “What’s with you two? Have things changed since last month when we talked?”

  “Nope. Things are the same. Dennis ... Dennis wants it all now. Look, I’m not being disloyal, Dennis tells anyone who will listen that he has no patience. He wants the best cases, the highest fees, and he wants to be able to spend money . . . the way you do. He has never gotten over that Paris trip.” She shrugged.

  “Are you two going to end up together?”

  He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until Annie said, “Who knows? If it doesn’t work, it wasn’t meant to be. We’re for now.”

  “I want to know something, Annie. I want you to tell me the truth. Do you love Dennis?”

  “Do I ask you about the women you go out with? There are some things, Pete, that are very personal and private.”

  “I’m not involved with anyone. Besides, I’d tell you the moment it happened. Well?”

  “I like him. Dennis can be very charming. He can even be considerate when he puts his mind to it. He’s a very good attorney, Pete. He’ll make it if he develops a little patience. But to really answer your question, no, I’m not in love with him. I don’t think he’s in love with me either. Like I said, we’re for now, Pete, it’s that simple. And I resent you asking me.”

  “Someone has to look out for you. Sometimes, Annie, you don’t have enough sense to come in out of the rain.”

  “Damn it, Pete, I resent that too. Keep up this line of talk and you’ll be going back to New York minus two friends.”

  That should have been enough to shut him up, but it wasn’t. “I worry about you.”

  “Well, don’t. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. As you can see, I’m doing just fine.”

  And she was, that was the part that bothered him.

  “We’re here,” Pete said, holding open the door to a dimly lit bar the local attorneys favored. He felt a pang of something he couldn’t define when several attorneys, some male, some female, stopped Annie to chat or just touch her arm in passing. Everyone liked her. And why the hell shouldn’t they? She was the nicest person to ever walk the earth.

  “I want a cold beer and something hot to nibble on,” Annie said after they sat down.

  “I’ll have the same, except you do the nibbling.”

  Annie ordered potato skins stuffed with cheese and bacon bits. He knew he’d eat four of the six that would be brought out.

  “So, out with it,” she said testily.

  “With what?”

  “With whatever it is Dennis is going to throw at me. I like to be prepared. What did you do?”

  Not what did Dennis do, what did he do? “I realized this afternoon that I don’t like Dennis. I don’t think I ever liked him. You asked for it, so I’m telling you the truth. He had the gall to ask me what I do and what I plan to do with all the money I earn. His envy was palpable. There seems to be a lot of scuttlebutt going around about the kind of money I earn. And he was on his way to getting sloshed over lunch. What kind of attorney gets drunk at lunch?”

  “When you aren’t in the big leagues, it’s easy to fall into that jealousy trap. God, Pete, you know the kind of hours we put in, the billable hours hanging over our heads. There’s no excuse for Dennis drinking at lunch, though. I think this is a first. This is just my opinion, but I think he’s jealous of you.”

  “So, I’m jealous of him. He has you.”

  “You had your chance, Pete, you turned me down,” Annie said lightly.

  “Bad timing,” Pete said just as lightly. It wasn’t right, didn’t feel right.

  “I’m curious about something, though. Friend to friend, and I feel comfortable asking you, what are you going to do with all that money you earn? I can’t even begin to comprehend the numbers that buzz and abound.”

  “You really want to know?”

  “That’s why I asked.”

  “Provide for my future. For the future of the children I hope to have someday, and for their children and their grandchildren. I want to know I’ve provided for generations of my blood for years to come. I don’t ever want what happened to me to happen to them. I want a family, Annie. Lots of children. I want everything I never had. But first I want to earn it. Me. I don’t want someone giving it to me. Why do you think I’m busting my ass?”

  “You need a life, Pete. You know those proverbial roses everyone talks about? You need to stop and smell them from time to time. What good is all that going to do you if you drop dead at forty-five?”

  “Five more years, Annie, and it will all be locked into place. I have the trusts all set up, and the insurance is in place to pay death taxes—not that I plan on dropping dead, but it’s needed. Then I’m going to Bell’s Beach. I’m going to be a beach bum.”

  “What about the wife and kiddies?”
Annie asked sourly.

  “They’ll be with me, living off the land and going bare-assed naked, no shoes.”

  “You’re nuts. You can’t live off the land ... beach. Nothing grows on the beach.”

  “I’m a city boy. So I need a few lessons on how to survive and become a beach bum. I’m gonna do it, Annie. You wait and see.”

  “When I come to visit you, should I wear leaves and burlap or a string bikini? What will the little woman say?”

  “She’ll say, ‘Did you bring the latest issue of Cosmo?’” Pete guffawed. Annie doubled over, laughing.

  They paused while the food was placed on the table. Then Pete asked, “How about you, Annie, has your game plan changed?”

  “Nope. Sometimes,” she said, leaning over the table, her eyes dreamy, “I think ... dreams are just that, dreams. I want a house with a nice kitchen, you know, the stuff all in a row with a window over the sink. I’m gonna put little red pots on the sill full of herbs, and when I cook, I’ll just pick off a stem. I want shiny pots with copper bottoms. What I’d really like is to have a fireplace in the kitchen, and a rocking chair with a thick, padded seat cover. I can’t decide if I want a cat or a dog to cuddle with. Maybe two rocking chairs for my ... for ... you know, when I get married. He probably won’t have a lot of time to sit and rock with me. Maybe Sunday mornings. Sunday mornings are good. I could live with that. That’s in the beginning, until I have kids. I’d like four, but the chances of that are about slim to none. I’d like two boys and two girls. A boy first, so the others can have an older brother. I think that’s important. You’ve heard this a hundred times, Pete, why am I telling you again?”

  “Because I love hearing it. Go on,” Pete said, digging into Annie’s potato skins.

  “I want maple trees that give off a lot of shade. I’m gonna hang a tire from one of the limbs. A little boy on the street I lived on had one. I wanted to swing on that tire so bad, but my mother wouldn’t let me. She said it was a dirty old thing and my clothes would get all dirty. As if I cared. Then she got sick and was in bed with a really bad cold. It was in the winter. After I took up her tea, I put on my coat and ran down the street, and man, I played on that old tire for over an hour. I only went home because I was freezing. I didn’t get dirty either. I never told my mother. It was one of the best days of my life.