She stretched one arm out along the back of the sofa, her suit jacket falling open
and her blouse tightening across her breasts.
It was a seductive pose, and Leslie knew Rachel knew it. She looked away.
“Yes and no. About before, yes. About now, not exactly.”
“So you’re doing the honorable thing before you and she—”
“No,” Leslie said quickly. “I don’t…we don’t have any plans for anything.”
“You’re going to stop seeing me because of a high school crush?”
Rachel’s tone was more incredulous than angry. “And you’re not even pursuing
her?”
“I’m pretty turned around right now, Rach. I just don’t feel like I can be with
anyone.”
“Maybe you need to take some more time off. I’ve never seen you like this.”
“You mean emotionally all over the place?” Leslie knew she always appeared to
be in control because she always kept her emotions so tightly under wraps. But
now she couldn’t. She couldn’t push the memory of Dev away, or what she felt
for her, or what she didn’t feel for Rachel. She couldn’t go back to being
completely focused on work and contenting herself with a casual sexual
relationship. Part of her mind was always thinking about Dev. About where she
was. What she was doing. If she was with Natalie. If she was happy. If she
missed Leslie as much as Leslie missed her.
“A few weeks off won’t change anything,” Leslie said gently.
“And it doesn’t feel fair to keep seeing you when I feel this way.”
“You can’t be happy about this.”
Leslie closed her eyes for an instant, then smiled weakly. “I’m not, but it’s what
I have to do.”
“We have an excellent physical relationship, and we enjoy each other’s
company. You’re not seeing anyone else, and neither am I.”
Rising, Rachel set her glass down and glided over to Leslie. She cupped her jaw
and raised her head. “Why give this up?”
Leslie felt the familiar pull of Rachel’s mouth moving over hers,
those long Þ ngers caressing her neck, a warm hand cupping her breast.
Her nipple hardened in Rachel’s palm and she heard Rachel’s murmur of
approval. Carefully, she eased back, breaking the kiss and the caress.
“My heart’s not in it, Rachel. And I need it to be. I’m sorry.”
Rachel straightened. “I’m not going to wait.”
“I didn’t think you would.” Leslie stood. “I wouldn’t ask you to.”
“But,” Rachel said, running her Þ ngertip along Leslie’s jaw, “I think it might
take me quite some time to Þ nd anyone I enjoy as much as you, especially in
the bedroom. So call me, if you decide you miss it.”
“You can call me too,” Leslie said softly, knowing Rachel wouldn’t. Rachel
didn’t have friends, she didn’t have time. She had colleagues to challenge her
mind and a lover to satisfy her body. Leslie doubted Rachel would go long
without Þ nding someone else. She burned too fast and too brightly not to have
her needs met. “I’m sorry.
I hate hurting you.”
“I know, darling.” Rachel’s eyes were cool, her expression remote.
“I’ll miss you, but I won’t suffer. If I were the kind of person who did, you
probably wouldn’t be leaving.”
Leslie said nothing. If she’d thought Rachel would be devastated, she still would
have found a way to say goodbye. She wasn’t doing either of them any favors
pretending that what they had was enough for her. And no matter what they
shared, it wouldn’t be enough to keep her from wanting Dev.
“Take care, Rachel,” Leslie said, walking with her to the door.
Rachel collected her briefcase and keys. “I’ve never known you to be a
coward, Leslie. If you love the woman, for God’s sake, do something about it.”
“Thank you, Counselor,” Leslie said, smiling ß eetingly. “I’ll take that under
serious advisement.”
“You should, because I’m never wrong. Goodbye, darling.”
When the door closed behind Rachel, Leslie returned to the living room and
picked up her wine. She sipped slowly, completely alone. It felt both liberating
and terrifying.
Dev slowed the park service truck at the mouth of a vacant campsite while
Natalie jumped off the running board, trotted down the dirt path to the clearing,
She jogged back, hooked her arm inside the open window, and steadied herself
against the outside of the door. She grinned in at Dev.
“Only Þ ve more to go.”
“You didn’t tell me I was going to have to work for my dinner.”
“I did say you could stay back at the ofÞ ce and wait for me.”
“This saves time,” Dev said, turning onto the last loop of road that snaked
through the campsite. “Plus, if I waited there, I’d have to listen to Jimmy
complain about the heat.”
“Or the bugs.”
“Or the tourists.”
“Or—” Natalie laughed and hopped down as Dev slowed again.
When she climbed back aboard and they moved on, she peered through the
window again. “Hear anything from Leslie?”
Dev stared straight ahead. “No.”
“You haven’t called her?”
“No.”
“Going to?”
Dev shook her head.
“Should I ask why not?”
“Among other things, she’s got a girlfriend.”
“Ah.”
“This is your stop,” Dev said, braking.
Natalie checked the last few sites on foot while Dev followed along the narrow
dirt road. When she returned to the truck, she settled into the passenger seat
and slipped her hand onto Dev’s thigh. “I’m sorry.”
Dev glanced at her. “About what?”
“For bringing it up. I waited two weeks. I thought that was a decent interval.”
“It’s okay.” Dev pulled into the parking lot behind the ranger’s ofÞ ce. Two
weeks. It felt like two minutes. She could still feel the warmth of Leslie’s hand in
hers. She could still hear her voice, smell the subtle scent of her perfume. Leslie
was everywhere around her, but never anywhere as much as in her thoughts.
There was no time frame for missing Leslie. No beginning, and no end. It was
simply part of her life and had been for as long as she could remember.
“Hey. Don’t go drifting off, Dev. There’s nothing back there but pain.”
“I know,” Dev said. “I’m okay.”
“Not quite, but you will be.”
“Your friendship means a lot to me. Thanks.”
“Don’t even go there,” Natalie said. “We are friends. And that means you don’t
have to thank me.”
Dev grinned and backed into a parking space. “Yeah yeah.”
“And I’m still going to make a move on you.” Natalie leaned across the gearshift
and gently bit Dev’s earlobe. “But I’m going to give you a little more time to get
prepared. A day. Maybe two.”
Dev laughed. “Thanks for letting me know.”
Natalie patted Dev’s thigh. “Anytime.”
“I’m not in any shape to get involved, Nat,” Dev said quietly as they locked up
the park service vehicle.
“Can’t shake her?”
Dev sh
ook her head. Leslie was always in her thoughts, in her dreams. Leslie
was in her blood.
“I could help.” Natalie grasped Dev’s hand as they walked toward her SUV.
“You do help.”
Natalie laughed. “I meant in a bit more active way.”
Dev laughed too. “I know.”
“So when I make a serious offer,” Natalie said, pausing before unlocking her
vehicle, “you can tell me if it’s what you want or not.”
“Nat,” Dev said gently. “I don’t want to mislead you. I don’t think—”
“Ah ah—you have to wait until I make my move to turn me down.”
Lifting her hands in defeat, Dev nodded. “Okay. And just so you won’t think
I’m running scared, I’ll tell you right now I’m going to be out of town for a
couple of days at the end of the month.”
“Oh yeah? What’s up?” Natalie unlocked the doors and they slid in.
“I’ve been scheduled on and off for the last four months to testify in a case
involving industrial contamination of a river upstate, and they keep rescheduling.
I just heard it’s Þ nally going to go.”
“So you’re heading upstate?”
“No,” Dev said quietly. “Actually, the trial is in New York City.”
“Oh.” Natalie glanced at Dev as she pulled out onto the highway.
“And?”
Dev shook her head. “And nothing.”
“Okay,” Natalie said, reaching for Dev’s hand. She squeezed it brieß y, then let
go. “My timetable still looks good, then.”
Dev smiled, but she feared that time alone would not be enough for her to forget
Leslie.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I’ll be out the rest of the afternoon, Steph,” Leslie said to her paralegal. “I’ll
check messages later and get back to you on anything urgent.”
“Finally taking a few hours off? You’ve been back a month and I think you’ve
been in here every day.” Stephanie Þ xed her with a reproachful frown and
lowered her voice. “Weren’t you supposed to be trying something new? Like
taking it easy now and then?”
Leslie leaned both hands on Stephanie’s desk and whispered back,
“I have been taking it easy. I’m out by eight every night.”
Stephanie shook her head. “That’s not exactly cutting back.”
“I feel Þ ne. I’ll be in court.”
“Wait!” Stephanie quickly scanned her calendar. “I don’t have you down for
anything. Did I forget something?”
“No.” Leslie shouldered her briefcase and started toward the door.
“I want to check out the competition.”
“What—”
Without looking back, Leslie waved a hand goodbye and disappeared down the
hall. Forty minutes later she slipped quietly into the back row in a courtroom at
the federal courthouse. She took a seat behind a fairly large gentleman and
made notes on another case while listening to testimony with half an ear,
absently noting that the state’s attorney was knowledgeable and his questions
sharp. She’d been up against him once, and that had not gone so well for him.
She smiled at the memory. The young attorney representing the corporation
accused of venting waste runoff into an unsecured drainage system and
contaminating a nearby river also seemed on top of his game.
Twenty minutes after Leslie arrived, the door opened again and Dev walked in.
Leslie shifted a little so that Dev would not see her as she strode down the
center aisle. She didn’t want to disturb Dev’s concentration. Her own was shot
to hell the second she saw Dev, so she quietly slid her notes into her briefcase
and settled back to watch.
Dev sat two rows behind the plaintiff’s table, and Leslie had a good view of her
in proÞ le. Dev had dressed for court in a dark suit and pale shirt. Her chestnut
hair had been trimmed to just above her collar, and it curled very subtly at the
ends. She had that tanned, healthy gleam that women who worked outdoors
often had, but beneath it, she seemed tired. And a little thinner. She was so
damn beautiful, and Leslie drew a long slow breath to calm the butterß ies in her
stomach.
When the state’s attorney called Dev to testify, Leslie positioned herself so that
the gentleman in front of her shielded her enough that Dev was not likely to see
her. Witnesses were usually instructed to look only at the jury or the questioning
attorney during testimony. They rarely scanned the audience. Leslie could hear
Dev, and she did not need to see her to know exactly how she looked as she
answered. Hazel eyes intent, her handsome face honest and passionate.
The state’s attorney had indeed gotten smarter with his questioning, but Dev
was an ideal expert witness and made the attorney look better than he actually
was. Dev reduced difÞ cult science to understandable concepts and made
human arguments that were guaranteed to sway the jury. Her personality alone
was a signiÞ cant added beneÞ t to her value as an expert defending the river
and its inhabitants. Knowing Dev, Leslie knew that none of her answers were
calculated, but what she truly believed.
When the corporation’s defense attorney began his cross-examination with a
belligerent tone, Leslie shook her head, feeling sorry for him. She edged over
slightly so she could see Dev’s face as Dev countered every vehement challenge
in a calm, reasoned fashion. Then, after a particularly sarcastically phrased
question from the attorney, something in Dev’s face changed. Her eyes glinted,
and the bold planes of her face grew stronger. Leslie held her breath.
Dev leaned forward and regarded the attorney as if he had just made the most
ridiculous statement she’d ever heard. Then she inclined her body toward the
jury and moved the microphone a half inch closer to her face, even though her
voice carried well without it. The jury
clearly hung on her every word at this point, waiting for whatever critical
statement she was about to make.
“What you have to understand,” Dev said, her eyes seeming to meet those of
every juror, “is that Þ sh are people too.”
Leslie bit her lip to stiß e her exclamation, grateful that she wasn’t the one going
up against Dev. It was apparent that every single member of the jury believed
every word Dev said. The corporation might as well have been dumping nuclear
waste into their backyards, because that was how they now thought of those
contaminated waters. Dev had made it personal for them with the elegant
strength of her conviction.
Leslie hated when the opposing team used her own strategy against her, and
she’d never seen it done better. The questioning attorney appeared to share her
assessment and hastily concluded his cross-examination.
When Dev Þ nished her testimony and stepped down from the witness box, she
hesitated for a second, her head tilted as if she were listening to someone
speaking, although the room was quiet. Then she resumed walking, her gaze
lasering to Leslie.
Leslie nodded hello, waiting anxiously for a response. Then Dev smiled, the
same smile of welcome she had greeted Leslie with a thousand times before. It
had always made Leslie feel beautiful and special, and it still
did.
v
Dev checked her watch and tried not to Þ dget. It had already been late in the
afternoon when she’d Þ nished testifying, so she knew court would adjourn at
any minute. She wanted to verify that she wouldn’t be recalled to testify, and
then she wanted to Þ nd Leslie. The Þ rst glimpse of her after a month of
thinking about her had nearly stopped Dev in her tracks. At Þ rst she’d thought
it was some kind of hallucination brought about by the fact that she’d done
nothing on the three-hour train ride but replay every conversation with Leslie
she’d ever had. Fortunately, she knew the details of the case thoroughly and
hadn’t needed to review them, because the closer she came to New York City,
the more her concentration had waned. Just knowing she was going to be in the
same city as Leslie made her blood hum. She knew it was crazy, but she
couldn’t stop it.
Then to actually see her, sitting in the courtroom so calm and
composed with her perfectly styled hair and subtle makeup and fashionable suit,
had pretty much thrown her off the tracks. She had to talk to her. Just talk to
her. Friends could do that, right? That was normal.
But the churning in her stomach that felt like hunger but wasn’t—that wasn’t
normal. The way her skin tingled, shimmering like the air just before a huge bolt
of lightning dispelled the pent-up electricity in the midst of a storm—that wasn’t
normal.
Dev studied her hands, clasped loosely in her lap. They were trembling.
None of this was normal. She was deluding herself, again. But it didn’t matter,
she still had to see her. Just—see her.
“Great job,” the state’s attorney murmured, jolting Dev back to the present. She
looked around and saw that the jury box was empty and the crowd in the
courtroom dispersing. Turning rapidly she searched the room behind her, but the
aisle was already Þ lled with people Þ ling out. She couldn’t see Leslie.
“Will you need me again?” Dev asked briskly.
“Shouldn’t. If you can hang around until noon tomorrow, I’ll call you to let you
know for sure. I assume you’ll be staying in the city?”
“Yes. I’m at the Hilton at Fifty-fourth and Sixth.”