Country Roads(21)

Paul watched the way Julia’s expression blazed with a combination of surprise and delight. She always looked thrilled when someone invited her to do something with them, as though she didn’t expect to be included. Claire referred to her as a recluse, yet he saw nothing shy or retiring about this vibrant woman. It seemed even less apt when you considered she had the gumption to drive a rust heap of a car several hundred miles to ask a total stranger to look at her paintings, especially when she thought they might be bad. There had to be some other reason for her seclusion, and he suspected it was her controlling uncle.

“Lead the way,” Julia said to Tim, almost leaping out of her chair.

As they walked out of the room with Tim’s miniature Doberman dancing around their feet, Paul was struck by the contrast between the big vet and the red-haired wood sprite.

“Do Tim and I look that odd together?” Claire asked, her eyes also on the pair.

“No, because it’s clear you were made for each other.” He said it without thinking, surprising himself.

She reached out to touch the back of his hand. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from my oldest friend.” She propped her elbows on the table and changed the subject. “So what happened at the meeting today?”

He picked up a fork and twirled it through his fingers. “They said I was the obvious choice for the position.”

She let out a whoop of excitement. “That’s fantastic! Why aren’t you happier?”

“I didn’t accept it.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because there’s one significant factor to be ironed out: the location of my new office.”

“I thought it was going to be in Charleston. Putting it in the state capital makes sense.”

“Well, it turns out they want the project to go beyond West Virginia. They want it to be national in scope.”

Her eyes went wide. “That’s even more exciting.”

He had thought the same thing. In fact, he had started the Pro Bono Project with the idea that it could expand beyond his state’s borders. At lunch when ABA president Ben Serra had put down his knife and fork and leaned forward to say, “We want you to take it nationwide,” adrenaline had surged through Paul’s body so he felt like a racehorse at the starting gate. He was already mentally expanding the scope of his plans when Ben dropped the bombshell that destroyed his euphoria.

“The office would be in DC.” Paul spun the spoon so fast it blurred. “For political reasons.”

“Oh dear. That’s a problem.” Her defeated look echoed his own feelings. “There must be some way to work things out for your brother so you can be away during the week at least.”

He grimaced. He’d run through every possible scenario, but he could come up with no way to keep tabs on Jimmy while working in DC. “I don’t see how. I could have commuted to Charleston every day, but with DC I’d have to stay for the work-week. You know what happened when I took the job in Atlanta. I can’t risk it, for Eric’s sake.”

The thought of his nephew growing up without his father’s presence in his life was too heartbreaking to consider.

“Oh, Paul, I’m so sorry. It’s such a brilliant idea.”

A stab of regret lanced through him, sending the spoon skittering out of his grasp. “It will do a lot of good no matter who runs it.”

“And you’ll always know you were responsible for it.”

“Virtue is its own reward?”

Something in his voice or expression sent Claire on to a new topic. “Well, your virtue was certainly rewarded when you rescued your latest damsel in distress. I never thought I would get to meet the reclusive Julia Castillo.”

“Are her new paintings good?” He retrieved the spoon and placed it carefully beside his empty coffee cup. “Or were you just being kind?”

“It would not be kind to tell her they were good if they weren’t.”

He pushed the glass away and relaxed back in his chair. The suspicion that Claire might have felt sorry for a suffering artist had nagged at him, mostly because he thought the new paintings were so much more interesting than Claire’s famous one. Since he was no art expert, he figured he must be wrong.

“It’s strange,” Claire said, picking up the dessert plates. “She’s much younger than I expected based on the emotional depth of her work.”

He joined her in collecting dishes. “She’s much more Irish than I expected based on her name.”

“That too. All that red hair is gorgeous. And I think she’s wearing an original Villar. I’d kill for one of those.” She sighed with envy.