Page 91 of Trials of a One Night Stand
The words blur as I read on. Dismissed. We didn’t officially win, but this outcome is as good as—if not better than—a not-guilty verdict. Sugar Valley Drugs’ slimy lawsuit is over, and Cliff never had to call a single witness after the spectacle with the lead scientist and an affidavit from Nigel Carrington saying he sold the fake Orchid formula to Lucas Matthews for one million dollars. Did that cost us?
Maybe.
I let Ashton and Cliff handle Carrington with Zelda’s full knowledge and agreement. Let’s just say Zel and I now have plausible deniability, if it ever comes up. The best part? Our patent for Orchid stands, meaning it’ll be more difficult for other shady companies to sue us over Orchid.
One more reread of the letter, and I close the email. My hands go to my face to rub my wet eyes and face.
It’s over. Really over.
I lower my hands and lean back in my chair, not knowing what to do next except breathe. Even that takes some effort, the way it has since I left Jayne nearly two weeks ago.
A couple of months ago, this fantastic news would have me doing a victory dance, popping champagne, or at least allowing myself a smug smile. Instead, I feel like I’ve been gut-punched by a gorilla.
I breathe in again and blink, unable to stop my eyes from watering. I can’t blame the tears on cutting onions or even dust in the air. The latter would be a great excuse except the building has a top-rated air filtration system. The tears of happiness or relief were momentary. Now, I’m just sad, dejected—dare I say, depressed.
Winning the case means absolutely nothing without Jayne by my side. I feel about as celebratory as a deflated balloon at a kid’s birthday party.
My office door slides open, and Bradley, Max, and Zelda enter. The three of them are practically dancing, their beaming smiles as bright as a supernova, only this isn’t the final stage of a star’s evolutionary life. This is the beginning of Zentello’s freedom from crackpot companies trying to steal what’s rightfully ours.
Zelda skips around my desk, shimmying her shoulders, and hugs me. “I got the email too! You were right about Cliff Ranger being the one for the job. We can finally put the lawsuit behind us.”
“Such brilliant news, mate,” Max says. “Congrats!”
Bradley grins. “This calls for a celebration!”
“Thanks.” I muster up a weak smile. Fuck, I’m a sorry sack of shit right now. “Maybe later?”
Bradley takes in my less-than-enthusiastic response and frowns. “What’s going on? You look like someone just told you there won’t be any new Star Wars spin-offs. Where’s the smiles and you singing a hearty rendition of ‘We are the Champions’?”
I sigh, running a hand through my disheveled hair. Did I comb it today? I remember taking a shower and brushing my teeth, but that’s about it. Each day keeps running into the other, making me lose track of time and everything else. “Winning this case should feel amazing. But without Jayne…” I’m unable to finish the sentence.
“Have you heard from her?” Zelda asks.
“Nope.” It’s as simple and as complicated as that.
Max’s expression softens. “I get it, mate. I was the same way when I thought I’d lost Sophie. We can celebrate another time.”
“For sure,” Bradley agrees. “I remember how hard it was when I thought things were over with Christina.”
I nod, grateful for their understanding and the out. “I’m taking the rest of the day off.”
As I grab my things, Zelda squeezes my shoulder. “If you need anything—”
“I’ll call.” Except I won’t, and we both know it, but some habits are hard to break.
“If you want company, I can come over,” Bradley offers, but I don’t want to take him away from work or, more importantly, Christina. Now I understand why he and Max wanted to talk to their wives when we went out for drinks and Ashton couldn’t stop texting Chloe. It all makes so much sense now. I only wish I had a chance of that becoming my life with Jayne.
“Thanks.” I force a smile, hoping the waterworks don’t start up again. “I’ll let you know after I’m home.”
“No, you won’t.” Zelda grabs my computer bag out of my hand.
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“This stops now,” Bradley and Zelda say at the same time while Max nods.
I glance at each of my friends as they stare at me. “What’s going on?”
“Intervention time,” Max announces.
