Starting Now (Blossom Street #9)(69)

“I’ll talk this over with my children. You have one advantage, but I do have to tell you, Libby, that the fact that you’re a sole practitioner isn’t in your favor. All the others competing for my business are large firms with support staff and resources. I don’t know how they’d feel about me taking a part of this account elsewhere.”

Libby had no argument. “But no other attorney will care about you as much as I do,” she offered.

“I realize that, my dear.” She stifled a yawn and Libby realized it was time for her to go.

Reaching for her briefcase, she inserted the legal pad with her notes. “Thank you for seeing me again, Mrs. Reed.”

“It was a delight.”

“For me, too.”

As if by magic Alice appeared.

“Alice will show you out.”

Libby stood and, holding on to her briefcase with both hands, smiled down at the older woman. Everything rested with Martha Reed now. Libby had made her case and now all she could do was wait.

“I’ll be giving you a call soon,” the older woman promised.

“This way, Ms. Morgan,” Alice said and motioned toward the door.

Libby left the house and reached inside her purse to turn her cell back on and realized she had three messages, two of which had come from Robin.

She hadn’t talked to Robin since Saturday night. She immediately pushed the button that would connect her to her friend’s cell. As she walked down the steps to her car, she pressed the phone to her ear. She hoped she’d catch Robin out of court.

Her friend answered on the second ring. “Hi,” Robin said lamely.

“Hi. You sound dreadful. What’s up?”

“I called in sick with the flu.”

That explained why she hadn’t shown up at the gym that morning.

“Only I don’t have the flu. I just couldn’t face going into work today. I feel so wretched and miserable. I’m sure I won’t ever hear from Roy again.”

“Okay, that does it. I’m on my way over and I’m bringing chicken soup.”

Chapter 26

Robin clenched a tissue and held it beneath her nose. If there was one thing she hated in this world it was emotional women. Three glasses of wine with Roy Bollinger and almost overnight she’d become a hysterical one herself. It was all so hopeless. She was hopeless.

Sniffling, she blew her nose and then rubbed the back of her hand across her upper lip. The tears only contributed to her misery. She felt weak and spineless and a wreck.

The doorbell chimed and it was almost more effort than she could bear to answer it. She wouldn’t have budged from the sofa if she didn’t already know it was Libby.

Libby walked into the condo, took one look at Robin, and shook her head. “You look dreadful.”

“Thank you ever so much,” she muttered sarcastically. She was still in her cotton nightgown and hadn’t bothered to comb her hair or make the effort to put on makeup. She was a complete mess, inside and out.

“Okay, tell me,” Libby insisted. “What happened?”

“I thought you were bringing me soup.”

“I decided making an extra stop would take too long. You sounded—”

“Miserable … and I am.” She returned to the sofa, jerking another tissue from the box with such force it toppled to the floor. She pressed the tissue against her face with both hands. Holding back a sob, she collapsed onto the sofa.

“Are you going to tell me what happened or are you going to make me torture it out of you?” Libby dropped her purse and joined her, sitting in the chair across from her.

Robin hiccuped in an effort to suppress a groan. She had brought Libby into this and invited further embarrassment, but she had to talk to someone or she’d go crazy.

“Stop,” Libby said, “I want to get us something to drink.”

Robin frowned and shook her head, dismissing the very thought. “It’s too early in the day for anything alcoholic.”

Libby smiled. “I wasn’t talking about a Manhattan, Robin, I was thinking we could both use a glass of ice water.”

“Oh.” Robin felt all the more foolish, although at this point she was ready to drown her sorrows in just about anything.

Libby disappeared into the kitchen and returned in short order with two tall glasses of water.

Robin took a deep swallow. The cold liquid helped relieve the tenderness in her throat. In all her life, Robin couldn’t remember being this emotional over anything. Maybe this was a symptom of early-onset menopause. She hadn’t even been this upset when she went through her divorce. Really, she was being ridiculous. But everything felt so bleak, so impossible. She took another long drink; she hadn’t realized how thirsty she was. Well, no wonder; she’d been having regular bouts of tears for the better part of three days.

Libby returned to the chair and patiently waited for Robin to start explaining. She didn’t urge or pressure her and for that Robin was sincerely grateful.

“After you left us, Roy and I had another glass of wine. He refused to let me pay although I insisted I wanted to repay him for recommending you for the position.”

Libby nodded without comment, which encouraged Robin to continue. She paused long enough to take another swallow. Again the cold water against her throat helped.

“That’s just it. Nothing happened. Nothing’s ever going to happen. I’m spineless and I hate myself.”