Will wished he’d felt a little more comfortable with Roscoe’s plan than he actually did. But he couldn’t overlook the fact that Julianne had shared his secret with her brother. She was guilty and she deserved what was coming. It was her fault their separation would be linked to his testimony.
“You have to wait a full year for the divorce, so that’s another key reason to get the papers filed as soon as possible,” Roscoe had added.
“Great, now I really feel like a famous celebrity. My separation is going to last longer than the marriage,” Will had said wryly, before taking another sip of his beer.
“Don’t feel bad, you’ve still got Britney Spears beat.”
Will had scrubbed his hand down his face. “Hell, I’m not sure I want to ever hear my name and Britney Spears’s in the same sentence.”
That had made Roscoe chuckle. “Seriously, we’re not done talking about Owen’s custody.” He held his hands up. “After the hearing. For now, I’m just glad I have the kid’s birth certificate in my safe. She can’t get him out of the country without it.”
“She won’t take Owen out of the country.”
“Yeah? This is the same woman who sold you out to a Senate committee, dumbass. Stop thinking with your dick and use your brain. She’s capable of anything.”
Will’s temple had begun to throb. He let out an explosive sigh. The Julianne he’d spent the last month with wouldn’t take Owen back to Italy. Not without asking. But apparently, the woman with whom he’d shared his body and his soul these past few weeks didn’t exist.
He and Roscoe had agreed to meet again tomorrow to discuss the strategy for the hearing. As far as Will was concerned, the plan was simple; he’d plead the fifth. End of story. Everyone would have to leave him alone because he had nothing to say.
The lights of the Inner Harbor shimmered through the tall windows in the loft. Will lay down on the sofa, pulling the cashmere blanket that the decorator insisted he buy with it over his body. He’d just sleep here tonight. As he stared up at the high ceilings of his loft, listening to the city rumble on outside, Will realized just how alone he was. It was a feeling that used to never bother him. Until now.
Twenty-six
It was seven A.M. on Monday when Annabeth dialed Hank’s cell phone. They hadn’t spoken since the night she’d babysat Owen, and she prayed he’d at least answer her call. The Senate committee’s hearing was the next day, and she desperately needed Hank’s help to make things right.
“Annabeth.” As usual, Hank’s gravelly voice made her internal body temperature spike. “Is everything okay? “
“Yes. I mean no. Of course it isn’t.” She was dissembling when she needed to focus. “I didn’t wake you, did I?” Not exactly the smartest question.
“No, I just got out of the shower.”
An image of a naked Hank popped into her head, and Annabeth had to gather her scattered wits. “Oh, well, good.”
Hank sighed. “Look, Annabeth, I’m sure you’re upset about this whole thing with Will, but he could have prevented it from coming to this. Obviously, the team wishes he’d cooperate because we’d prefer not to lose him to an indefinite suspension. But he’s being stubborn.”
Annabeth snorted. “Tell me about it. But that’s not why I’m calling you. Well, not exactly, anyway.” She heard rustling in the background, as if he were toweling himself dry. Annabeth fanned herself with the printed directions she had in her hand. “Remember when you said you’d like to take me places? To travel with me?”
The rustling stopped, and only Hank’s breathing could be heard through the phone.
“Well,” she continued, “I’d like you to take me somewhere. Today.”
“Today?”
“Yes, today.” She swallowed. “It has to be today.”
“Today,” he stated again, sounding a little as if he were trying to decipher something Sophie had said to him.
“It’s work related, if that helps.” She reminded herself that this was an ambush and to not take his impatience personally.
“Uh-huh.” He chuckled softly. “And what exotic destination do you have planned for us, Annabeth?”
She sat down on the flagstone porch, relieved he was taking her seriously. At least she hoped he was. “It’s not really all that exotic. Although it is called the Garden State.”
“New Jersey?” Hank choked out. “You want to go to New Jersey?”
She sighed. “I don’t want to go to New Jersey, Hank. I have to go.”