Baby Come Back(14)



“I see,” I replied, “I guess I presumed that you would be naming your baby, if in fact it is a boy, after Trey.”

“Gina, are you pissed off at me for something?”

“Well maybe I am a little bit, girlfriend. I mean for Chrissake, you act like you are the only one with problems. You whine about Trey and Amber constantly; when you’re not whining about them you’re going on about how sick you feel. Now you freakin’ want to lay claim to a boy’s name when you aren’t even f*cking sure you’re having one and I am. Plus, my baby is due first.”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“That means I will name him anything I damn well please. I don’t need your permission to do so.”

I saw her tear up immediately. God, now I really felt like a piece of shit.

“Hey Ty, I’m sorry-”

She held her hand up and shook her head.

“Don’t apologize, Gina. You simply said what you felt. I’m sorry that I have burdened you with my problems. I didn’t realize how taxing that must have been for you. I won’t bring either of those topics up to you again. I promise.”

“Tylar-”

We were interrupted when Trey came into the room with the infamous Amber trailing behind him.

“Well hi, Gina. I thought that was your car out front. How are you?”

“Hey Trey, I’m doing fine. Just came out to check on my BFF. We don’t get to see each other much these days.”

Trey looked over at Tylar; he could tell she was upset. He looked quickly back to me. I gave him a non-committal shrug.

Amber cleared her throat beside Trey.

“I’m sorry. Gina, this is our new partner at the firm, Amber Stratton. Amber, this is Gina Hatton.”

Amber held her well-manicured hand out to me, flashing me what was meant to be her totally, intimidating, ‘I-can-have-any-man-I-want’ look. Oh yes, Tylar had reason to hate this bitch.

“Amber, so nice to meet you,” I cooed, flashing her one of my ‘don’t-be-messing-with-my-man’ smiles, with a slight nod of my head to top it off.

“Gina? Are you Tristan’s Gina, then?”

(Now how in the hell did she know that?)

“Well . . . yes. Do you know Tristan?”

I could see that Tylar had taken an immediate interest in the way the conversation was going. She was all ears now.

“Well ‘yes’ and ‘no,’ I guess,” she laughed softly. “I mean I know he is Trey’s older brother; and I know that I’ve caught a glimpse or two of him at The Shady Lady when I’ve been out with friends, but the reason that I put it together just now was from Ian.

(Huh?)

“I beg your pardon?”

I could tell that even Trey’s interest had been sparked by that one.

“Oh I am sorry,” she said, managing to produce a soft blush on her cheeks. “I suppose that is a sore subject with you.”

“Not really,” I lied, “You know Ian?”

“Well, I mean I only met him once. It was about a month ago at The Shady Lady. He was fairly talkative; he mentioned your name and pointed Tristan out to me. I’ve just got a great memory, I guess. It’s like a steel trap. Once imbedded in my mind, I don’t forget it.”

“Well I suppose that comes in pretty handy in the line of work you’re in then.”

“Why yes; it serves my purpose well.”

(Why do I think she’s not referring to case law here?)

“Well at any rate, it’s been a pleasure, Amber. Tylar, I’m going to take off now. Hope you feel better soon.”

“Gina you can stay longer if you want.”

It was Tylar’s half-ass attempt to say she wasn’t going to throw me out for being pissy with her, but I felt extremely uncomfortable at the moment for a variety of reason. Besides that, I had another stop to make before going home.





CHAPTER 8




It was not even five o’clock when I pulled up in front of the condo that Ian and I had shared. His Mustang was in the driveway. What the hell did he do these days? Did he even have a job? My guess was that he was blowing through the money he got from the sale of his half of the club. It was kind of sad.

I hoped that he was sober. I needed some information from him. He was an ugly drunk so hopefully the more sober I caught him, the more cooperative he would be.

I rang the bell a couple of times before he answered. He was surprised to see me. As near as I could tell, it was a ‘sober’ surprise. He was dressed, shaved, and looked presentable.

“Giner? Bloody hell. What do you want?”

“Ian, can I have five minutes of your time?”

He looked beyond me warily; he was trying to see if Tristan was lurking behind the bushes, apparently. How paranoid was that?

“It’s just me, Ian. No one is with me, for Chrissake.”

“Yeah - come on in,” he relented.

I followed him inside, taking a seat on an obvious second-hand plaid sofa. He looked over at me expectantly.

“Ian, do you remember talking to a very attractive brunette at the club a month or so ago? Mid-thirties, dark eyes -”

“Big, perky tits?” he finished for me. “Of course, I remember Amber. What the hell? I’m not eighty.”

Andrea Smith's Books