Starting Now (Blossom Street #9)(74)

Hershel was the last person she’d expected to hear from.

“Fabulous.” Truth was she’d rarely felt better. While she wasn’t overwhelmed with clients, they would come. She would keep her own hours and continue with her volunteering and knitting until then.

“I was wondering if it would be possible for us to meet for a drink this afternoon?”

Libby stopped walking and stood in the middle of the sidewalk like a large rock in the center of a river. People rushed past her, giving her space as she pressed her cell phone against her ear. Traffic noises came at her from all sides. Her mind whirled with all the possible reasons Hershel might want to speak to her. Only one came to mind.

They wanted her back. He’d managed to talk reason into the other partners.

Oh, sure, she’d signed a twelve-month lease and now Hershel was going to ask her to come back to the firm.

“Libby?”

“Yes, of course. What time?”

“Does four work for you?” he asked, and mentioned a downtown hotel.

“I’ll be there at four,” she managed to respond. Libby ended the call and dumped her cell back into her purse. She resisted the urge to contact Robin but she texted Phillip, explaining that she’d need to take a raincheck on their sailing date.

Her mind continued to whirl—if Hershel wanted her, then she wouldn’t come cheap.

At four Libby sat at the bar at the Four Seasons. She straightened when Hershel walked into the dimly lit area. He hadn’t changed much in the intervening months, she noticed. He grinned when he saw her, and wove his way around tables and chairs in order to join her in the far corner of the room. Libby had chosen the table that she felt would offer them the most privacy. She stood as he approached and offered him her cheek, which he kissed lightly. Then, setting his briefcase on the floor, he pulled out a chair and joined her.

Libby crossed her legs and relaxed, content to let him do the talking. The waitress came for their drink order and they both asked for a glass of merlot.

They exchanged pleasantries until their wine arrived. Hershel touched the rim of his goblet to hers. “I see you took my advice.”

“Oh?”

“You’re volunteering at the hospital, I hear, and dating that doctor.”

So he knew about Phillip.

“Do you enjoy sailing?”

My goodness, he’d been keeping close tabs on her. No doubt through Sarah. Libby was determined not to reveal her surprise. “I do.”

“Wonderful.” He sampled his wine and nodded in approval.

Libby had yet to taste her own as she struggled not to give away her surprise. “You told me to get a life.”

“Not everyone takes my words to heart,” he said with a smile.

“I understand you’ve decided to open your own office,” he continued, setting his wineglass down on the small circular table.

“I have.” The ink had yet to dry on the office lease, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

Hershel leaned forward slightly. “I also understand that you recently met with Martha Reed.”

Libby smiled, rather amused, although she was sure his source had been her former paralegal. “Hershel, have you had a private investigator following me?” she asked, half-joking.

He grinned and shook his head. “I have my sources.”

“Apparently you do.”

His smile faded. “I called because a couple of the other partners are concerned about your visit with Martha Reed.”

“Oh?”

“They feel you’re poaching our clients.”

“Poaching?” Libby repeated, stunned that he would suggest she would do such a thing.

“The truth is, given your position, I would have done the same thing. Unfortunately, the others don’t see it that way. They feel that Mrs. Reed is our client.”

“Was your client,” she reminded him. “She left the firm.”

“I’m pleased with the changes you’ve made since leaving the firm,” he continued, ignoring her comment. “You’re doing exactly what I hoped you would and I applaud that. I couldn’t be more pleased, but Libby,” he paused and regarded her steadily, his gaze wide and sincere, “I don’t want you to make a misstep now.”

“Misstep?” He’d just admitted that given the opportunity he would have done the same thing.

“Martha Reed is a longtime friend. I knew, given time, she would eventually have a change of heart. The partners and I spoke with her recently, just after your visit, as a matter of fact, and she’s decided to come back to the firm.”

“Oh.” Libby couldn’t hide her disappointment. “And who will she be working with?” Hope sprang eternal; perhaps the firm wanted her back after all.

“We’re assigning Linda Freeman to the account. The partners feel Mrs. Reed does better when she can communicate her needs to a woman.”

Not Libby. Linda.

Again she swallowed the taste of disappointment.

“But—”

Hershel held up a hand, stopping her. “I know; she’d left the firm and you had every right, but it irritated the others.” He left the words hanging, leaving her to speculate.

Libby had a good idea what he was telling her. Basically her chances of being asked to return to the firm had been dashed because she’d taken the initiative and contacted the elderly woman on her own. A sickening feeling tightened her stomach.