Page 74 of Definitely (Maybe) Dating
Instead of his chest filling with the kind of dread that usually followed someone who’d admitted to withholding information, he felt hopeful. She was opening up to him, and that was all he’d asked of her.
“An omission isn’t a lie,” he assured her.
“It is to me,” she said with so much conviction he finally understood how she’d survived her childhood. With a ridged set of rules and guidelines. “I like to think I’m better than that, but I got scared that you wouldn’t help.”
“Life isn’t a ledger, Boots,” he said gently. “When I offered to help, it was with zero expectations. Whatever you want to share, and whatever pace you want to share it, is your call.”
“Skye’s world isn’t black and white. She lives in the gray zone, which is the only way she’s able to help so many girls. It’s why they trust her. Following the rules, waiting for the red tape.” She shook her head. “That all takes too long and only hurts the people who are already hurting. Like me. If she’d waited for me to age out of the system, I wouldn’t have made it. But she took a chance. And now I’m asking you to take a chance on her.”
She took a big, weighted breath and let it out. “She’s going to lose her house, and if she does all those girls will lose their safe haven. That’s why the showcase is so important. The money raised from Urban Soul will go to pay off the second on her house.”
“And you’ve been doing all of this by yourself?” he asked, amazed at the lengths Piper would go through for the people she loved. Kind of like the unwavering support he and his brothers share.
“Don’t you see?” she said. “You helped me, so I wasn’t alone.”
21
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Spendingthree of the past five delicious, sexy, mind-blowing nights with Piper in his arms had fried his brain. Josh had all but forgotten that tonight was dance lessons with his mom—and he couldn’t bail and leave her the only single in the Foxie Silvers’ Salsa class.
Needing a quick shower and change, Josh closed the case he’d been working on and powered down his computer. While the view the Columbia River and downtown was killer, he wasn’t necessarily sold on high rise living. But Gage had been on him to diversify for years, and the owner had been highly motivated to sell, so Josh had purchased the penthouse for a song.
Even saying the word sounded pretentious. And Josh was learning that pretentious no longer looked good on him. It probably never did. Once upon a time, when he’d been starting out as just another lawyer in a sea of crabs who were willing to crawl right over him to gain the advantage, it had been all about the impact and positive change.
Somewhere along the way, between law school and being appointed to the Office of the District Attorney, he’d deluded himself into thinking that if he toed the line, he’d come out on top—and he had.
Now it was about something else. Something incomprehensible and transparent.
Being the front runner for District Attorney should have left him feeling excited and fulfilled. And sure, when he’d first been asked to run, the rush of adrenaline went straight to his head, leading him to believe that if he had the right house, the right car, and the right woman on his arm when he rubbed important shoulders, he’d be satisfied.
He wasn’t wild about his loft, his car was uncomfortable, and the only woman he wanted on his arm was Piper—who would rather chew glass than mingle with country club types. People who Josh had spent his life around and people who had a huge influence on his career. The old “It’s who you know” adage was alive and well in the Easton family.
There were those who’d known and respected his dad, there were those who wanted a free pass because of Josh’s connections, and then there were others who wanted an introduction to his more famous, wealthier brothers. Which was why Josh was so careful about asking them for favors. Brother to brother was one thing, but once that circle began to spread, things got more dicey—dirty. Two things he planned to avoid if he were elected.
Running a hand through his hair, he padded down the hallway. Work wise, it had already been one hell of a week, and it was only Wednesday. Thanks in part to Russell Heinz, his days had turned into catastrophic calamites of error. Starting with misrepresenting evidence and twisting Josh’s witness into a pretzel of misspeaks and ending with Josh stuck in a U-haul for a grand total of nine hours—since the five-foot sculpture, made of chewing gum and rubber bands, destined for the auction, was too large to be picked up in a car—which had a broken spring in the seat. Something his brothers found hilarious.
He didn’t know how it happened, but it seemed as though every time he walked into his office, he was thrust into a shitstorm of other people’s problems he was expected to resolve. None of which had anything to do with his actual job. Which was why he’d decided to work from home today, for some uninterrupted time to make headway on his ever-growing caseload.
He’d spent the past twelve hours at his desk and was looking forward to a cold beer, a hot shower, and ten hours in bed.
Strike that.
A cold beer, a hot shower, and ten hours in his bed—with Piper. But she was at Belle Mont House shooting her first wedding at the venue, and he was expected at ballroom dancing in an hour—their schedules weren’t playing nice.
Walking into his front room, he came to an abrupt stop. Gathered around his coffee table, with a cornucopia of take-out on top, like this was Thanksgiving dinner, were a handful of Eastons.
“Nice socks,” Owen said, taking in Josh’s faux wingtip socks his mom bought him for Christmas. “Do you have a matching top hat and monocle?”
“I was going to ask to borrow yours.” He shoved Rhett, who was in Josh’s favorite chair. “Glad to see the small fortune I pay for building security is being put to good use.”
“You should complain,” Clay said, resting his feet casually on the edge of the table.
“Somehow I doubt it would help. I hear the property manager’s a real ass,” Josh said.”
“Or his brother is charming.” All Rhett had to do was smile one of his million-dollar smiles or offer to take a selfie, and he’d be granted access to the Oval Office. Then again, the lax security had brought Josh Piper last week, so he really couldn’t complain.
Josh purposefully remained standing, hoping that they’d all take the hint and get out. Not that there was any place to sit. Even if he wanted to pull up a cushion—which he most certainly did not, Clay and all six-foot-four of Owen pretty much consumed the entire couch, and Gage and Rhett were cozy in the overstuffed chairs.
