Unlucky in Law

“Fine,” he said, so absorbed in his own thoughts he probably hadn’t heard hers. “But what is it about this case that has you looking so damned”-he paused to run his hands through the tangle of her long brown hair-“gorgeous?”

She laughed and hit him with a pillow. “That’s your eyes giving you trouble. I’ve heard that happens as a man ages.”

“You don’t fool me,” he said, pulling her into a full-bodied kiss. “You like distinguished. Aged red wine; ripe bananas; men with faces that show they’ve lived a life of excess and pleasure; flaky cheeses…”

“Shall I compare thee to a flaky cheese? Do you really want that?”

He laughed. “Anyway, have you considered this? Maybe this case will lead to a partnership opportunity. How would you feel about that?”

“Would you like that?” She knew the answer. She asked to avoid answering.

“Yep. You know I’d love to tie you down right here on the Monterey Peninsula. I’m always on the lookout for opportunities.”

She smiled at him. “I guess I’ll deal with a partnership offer when and if the time comes.” Life felt easy here in his arms. Protected. But she was starting to notice something after this time she had spent away from work and from her own solo practice at Tahoe. She felt smaller, younger, less able.

Criminal defense work had always been her big place, her New York City. Good at her job, getting better all the time, she helped the hapless, damn it. She had a calling to go out and save miserable souls who could not save themselves, help them through the labyrinth, make sure the rules were followed and that they had their defense, even if they were guilty. She liked a large life. She wasn’t sure yet how big her life could be with Paul.

He looked at her now, considering something, stroking her hair. Then he reached beyond her and pulled open a drawer to the bedside table. “Maybe the time has come,” he said.

“What? Nobody’s made me a partnership offer,” she said.

He pulled out a small, ornately decorated enamel box. “Oh, but I have.”

“Ah.” She pushed her hair out of her eyes and looked at the box.

“Right. Marriage.”

“We should have talked about this last night, at di

He shook his head. “Last night was chaos.”

She remembered. Bob had decided he needed their dog, suddenly, for reasons known only to him, but he had been so insistent on her bringing Hitchcock that they interrupted their di

“Anyway, I don’t want to talk, Nina. We’ve said it all and now’s the right time for this. Mornings with you are so beautiful.” He took her left hand and turned her to face him, popping open the box to reveal a twinkling square diamond ring, with two tapered baguettes flanking it.

He had asked her to marry him before, but the ring was a new, serious development. Nina held up her side of the sheet, gazing at the ring, her lips parted. The band, a sleek platinum, held the big stone between elongated prongs so that the light could dance around it in all directions.

“It’s called an azure-cut-four equal sides. It was my grandmother’s,” he said. “A bluestocking in the early 1900’s, I’m told. Seemed like the symbolically perfect thing for you.”

“It’s gorgeous,” she said, stammering a little.

He took the ring from its box. “Nina, will you marry me?”

He had been patient with her. He deserved an answer. “I think…”

“Don’t think.”

She took her hand out of his, and covered the hand holding the ring with both of hers, feeling tears coming to her eyes. “I really love you!” she said.

“Then say yes.”

“Marrying you means what? Staying here? Or would you come with me back to Tahoe?”

“I want you with me, Nina, forever and ever.” Blond hair fell over his forehead, and his bare flat stomach creased delightfully at the waist.

“There’s Bob,” she said.

“He’s a kid. He’ll adjust.”

“My work. Matt, Andrea, their kids. My whole life is in Tahoe.”

“Unless it’s here with me.” He pulled the ring out and turned it in the sunlight, watching it twinkle. “Wear it?” he said. “Be mine?”

“I am yours.”

“Yet, I get no answer.” He said it lightly, but she could hear his disappointment.

“I just…”

“Okay. Bad timing, trial comin’ up. So here’s what we’ll do. You try it on for size. See how it feels on your finger. Take some time. Think if you must. Sound like a plan?”

She let him slip the ring on her finger. She liked the way it felt, and how pretty it looked there.

They kissed for a long time, languorous, loving.

“Maybe I should wear it on a chain around my neck,” she said, “or everyone will assume we’re engaged.”

“Wear the ring. Maybe you’ll discover you can’t take it off.”

She glanced toward the clock on the bureau. Well, if she was a little late, so be it. Her client wasn’t going anywhere. “Paul, I have questions.”

“Okay.”

“Being together,” she said slowly, “what’s that mean to you?”

He leaned back and laughed. “I don’t want a Stepford wife, okay, or why pick you? There’s a babe out there somewhere who is ready to bake a rhubarb pie for me, and even wash my dirty laundry once in a while as part of the deal. I hope you will sometimes. Maybe I’ll do the same for you, in a pinch. I’m willing to go untraditional. I just want us to take the next step. It would be beautiful to marry you.”

She rubbed a finger against his rough morning cheek. “What I’m trying to say is, how about a counteroffer? I don’t see why two people who love each other, two strong people, have to…”

“Marry? It’s not a bad word. Go ahead. You can say it.”

She nodded. “Marry. It’s not as if-you always said you don’t want kids.”

“I do say that.”

“So that’s not an issue. I mean, you have such a fine life here, your business, friends. And I’ve got another one up in Tahoe. I miss it. I think all the time about my little house and my brother’s family, and I check the weather up there every day. When it’s foggy here, I think about how su

“Is this a no?”

She shook her head. “Just, I have questions. Isn’t what we have good enough? Isn’t it excellent?”

“I don’t know what to expect. I don’t know if you’re coming, going, staying.”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean by ‘marry.’”

“Enough discussion, okay?” He fiddled with the ring on her finger, centering the stone so that it glittered. “You know what I mean when I ask you to marry me. You know. Don’t start quibbling. Now come closer, you’re making my brain ache with all this talk.”

Her thoughts whirled. Only his touch brought them to a screeching stop. “Is this close enough?” she asked.

“No.”

“This?”

“No.”

“You always know exactly what you want and you aren’t afraid to make your wishes known,” she murmured. “I have to get to work. I have a meeting.”

“Fifteen minutes.”

“I really can’t. Five.”

“Five isn’t enough for what I have in mind.”

“Okay, ten, if you can convince me you’ll make it worthwhile.”

“Damn lawyers! Everything’s a negotiation.”

Later, his body wrapped tightly around hers, he said, “Nina?”

She was busy covering his neck with tiny kisses. “Yes, Paul?”

“I love you.”

“Ditto,” she said.

“I await your final verdict.”