Fight to the Finish (First to Fight #3)(66)

Tasha entered, a black pencil skirt hugging her curves and a wine red shell tank showing off her dark, toned arms. When she settled down in the seat beside Kara, she crossed her legs, leaned back, and just shook her head.

“What?” Oh God . . . had his visit to Henry made things worse? “Tell me.”

“It’s almost too easy. Anticlimactic, when I was looking forward to skewering that little prick.” Tasha shrugged and scooted a file folder over to her. “This is the paperwork to get started. I reached out to his lawyers, and they say he’s willing to go through the processes, as long as you pick up the tab for the court fees and any other potential financial issues that come along. Filing fees and such.”

“That’s . . .” She stared at the file, dumbfounded. “That’s it?”

“That’s it. I didn’t want to push our good fortune because, well, I’m no fool. But I have a feeling there might be more to it than just a man who came to his senses and had a moment of clarity. Don’t you?” With a small smile, Tasha leaned forward. “You deserve this happiness, Kara.”

“I wanted to make the move,” she murmured, flipping through the paperwork without seeing any of it. “I had plans, strategies . . . I’d started looking for more private clients to make extra money for the attorney fees.”

“Don’t tell the partners, but I’m perfectly happy you won’t be requiring our services much longer, at least not for this. Girl, you can’t be upset about this, can you?”

“No, not at all. It’s just a little . . . I don’t know. Am I wrong? Is this stupid?”

Tasha leaned her chin on her hand. “Stupid, no. Wrong, no. What you feel is what you feel, and feelings are never wrong. But maybe . . . maybe a little prideful. That’s up to you to figure out if that is a benefit or a curse.”

Prideful. The word bounced around her mind as she listened to Tasha explain the process of terminating Henry’s parental rights. Could her pride be the thing standing in the way of her happiness? Zach’s happiness?

It ate at her, and she knew she wouldn’t sleep until she figured it out.


*

“HEY, you. What’s up back in J-ville?”

“Am I too prideful?” Kara asked without preamble.

Marianne laughed a little. “And hello to you, too. Sure, yes, Texas is fine. A little dry, a lot hot, but what can you expect?”

Kara blew out a breath. “Marianne. Am I too prideful?”

“Yes.”

Wow. Well, you didn’t go to your best friend for a sugarcoated answer.

“But that’s not a bad thing.”

“Pride isn’t a virtue.”

“It should be,” her friend shot back. “You’ve been raising your son alone for ten years, without even the benefit of your parents for guidance or help. You’ve scraped together enough to keep your son happy and healthy—no small feat when you look at the billions of foods he can’t eat—and you still work with your passion instead of some mindless job you do just for the paycheck. You’re independent, you’re stable, and you’ve raised a kid who, at the age of ten, is already a better person than some fully grown men I know. Why the hell wouldn’t you be proud of that?”

“But do I let it get in the way? Am I letting pride act as a sort of, I don’t know, wall from life?”

“Yes.”

“Jeez, could you ease up a little? I don’t think my ego can take much more.”

“Good for you. Yes, you are letting the fact that Graham stepped in to help you—help, not control—get in the way. You’ve been doing it for so long on your own you aren’t entirely sure what a cooperative relationship looks like. That’s okay, because it’s understandable. Now you know, and now you know what the goal is. So get the damn goal. Don’t be a nincompoop. Show him you love him, too.”

Kara brushed away the tears coursing down her cheeks. “I never said I loved him.”

“I’m going to pretend I’m not insulted you said that. Hold on!” she yelled, then let out an exasperated sigh. “I swear, these men are all babies. If you don’t get them their ice five seconds after they ask, suddenly they’re dying and it’s all your fault.”

“How’s it going?”

“Oh, now you wanna know.” She could hear the grin in her best friend’s voice. “Practice has been going well. Competition starts tomorrow. Should be pretty fierce, from what I’m seeing.” There was a bit of a pause, and Kara heard the sound of ice and a metal scoop. She knew the sound well, having hung around Marianne’s training room. Another few seconds later, she heard, “Here. Tie it off and ice for twenty. And go away. I’m on the phone. No, Simpson, sit there. Right there. Good boy. Children,” she muttered. “They’re all children. If you don’t literally walk them to the spot you want them at, they’re clueless.”

Kara laughed. “I guess I’ll have to wait until you come back to hear about most of it. I wish . . .”

“Come out here.”

Kara rolled her eyes and stared at the ceiling of her bedroom. “You’ve forgotten, like, seven details in that statement.”

“You said he emailed you the flight information for the tickets he bought. Your plane ticket is for tomorrow morning. So . . . come out.”