Laramie joined us soon after. Laramie the Lawyer, though I kept that moniker to myself. He had soft features and kind eyes, all the better to trust him with. He, at least, was introduced formally to me. This was Drew Laramie, attorney-at-law and family friend. I was Allie Winters, the one with “the problem.”
I had a short speech prepared. What I’d told Colin but with details. When Bailey was born, what her birth certificate read, how I’d supported her all this time. These things had seemed important in the light of day when I’d anticipated and dreaded this meeting.
But here, in the dark, with the men settling in and throwing their words above my head, my planned words seemed superfluous, as if the details hardly mattered. Laramie sat across from Colin. Philip served us all drinks, somehow managing to not look the least bit subservient. He served me first, as the lady, I supposed. I brooded into my glass of water while the men were given an amber liquid.
“It looks like he hasn’t filed yet, but that doesn’t mean anything,” Laramie said, finally addressing the case. “These things take time.”
“And you know we’d rather avoid that altogether,” said Philip.
“I understand. I have Roark looking into his background. If we can find something appropriate…” Laramie let the sentence die as he took a sip from the drink Philip handed him.
“That’s risky,” Colin said.
Laramie nodded. “Hard to say how a man’ll react until he’s pressed into a corner. You mentioned paying him off, but that carries its own risks. Technically there’d be no guarantee he wouldn’t file at some future date or press for more money.”
“Oh, he’ll stick to the deal,” Philip said.
Laramie smiled without humor. “There’s persuasion, but you don’t need me for that.”
God, no more violence. Please.
“She doesn’t want that,” Colin said.
They paused in unison and looked at me.
“Definitely not,” I said. Which seemed to work, because they resumed talking around me, about negotiations and agreements. Riddles cloaked in ordinary words. At least there was no more talk of persuasion.
It was like I’d stumbled into some sort of Mad Hatter’s tea party. I should speak up, I knew. I should advocate for Bailey, but despite the questionable ethics of some of their suggestions, they seemed to have a much better grasp on the possible solutions than I did.
If only Philip would look at me when he talked about me.
Laramie did, giving the occasional sympathetic glance, particularly when he mentioned Bailey specifically. Colin also looked at me with his usual impassivity, though he directed his comments at the other men.
Philip looked at the other men and, on occasion, at the air beside me. Never at me. After Andrew, I’d lost any claim to be a great judge of character, but everything about Philip made me nervous.
I trusted Colin, and he trusted Philip. Colin seemed to think that was enough, but I was starting to realize trust didn’t work by proxy.
Laramie’s eyes caught mine, an apology in them. “This man, did he ever hurt you?”
“What?” The very worst liar in the world, my eyes widened and my hands clenched.
“If he did,” Laramie said carefully, “it would certainly help our case. Give us leverage.”
I stared into his gentle eyes with my mouth open.
“Allie?” Colin said, but I couldn’t look at him.
Laramie was silent, watching me.
I’d thought about confessing all to Colin, but it wouldn’t be like this. I couldn’t possibly bare all my sins, all my shame in this room full of strangers. A room full of men. I was already the gold digger, the slut, the problem. I wouldn’t also be the victim.
Besides, violence had already been discussed once tonight. I didn’t want Andrew hurt, though I wouldn’t let myself think too hard on that. And I certainly didn’t want Colin picking a fight, possibly injuring himself, possibly in trouble with the law. Hurting himself in the process because he thought he needed to fight to keep the people he cared about near him.
“No,” I said.
And then stronger, turning to look at Colin. “No. He didn’t hurt me.”
The lie was a small stab to my stomach, which was good. I deserved no less for deceiving Colin, even if it was for his own good. Or maybe it wasn’t a lie, if I thought of all my date nights. Asking for sex, for pain, in a sick bid for control, but that was an illusion. I’d never had control, and this farce of a consultation only underscored it. Those men hadn’t hurt me, Andrew hadn’t hurt me, not nearly so much as I’d hurt myself.
Chapter Eighteen
Colin’s house was quiet. After I shut the door behind a groggy Shelly, Colin reached back behind my neck and pulled me in for a kiss. He backed me up right there, the cool wall against my shoulders a contrast from his hot hands gripping my hips and his tongue invading my mouth.
My mind reeled from the earlier conversation. Like the flashing pictures in a slot machine, my emotions ran from guilt to fear to anger. And then frustration with myself. I was getting what I wanted; I should be happy. He pressed his mouth down the side of my neck. Should be happy.