The Spark by Vi Keeland
CHAPTER 15
Autumn
I did not feel like going to a party.
My insides churned as we drove out to the Hamptons for the barbecue. I couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that I was doing something wrong—like I was guilty, even though I hadn’t committed a crime. Well, no physical crime anyway. Now, emotional strangulation? That was an entirely different story.
Blake glanced over to where I sat staring out the window. “You feeling okay today?”
“Yeah. I just have a lot on my mind with work.”
He nodded. “Is Stone giving you trouble again?”
I frowned. “Storm. And no, he’s actually been a little better lately.”
“Blake Jr., my eight year old, goes through phases where he acts out, too. Usually it’s just because he wants a little extra attention.”
Ummm…I think Storm might be more upset that his mother is an addict who ditched him, and he’s stuck living in a group home filled with troubled kids no one wants. “Most of my kids act out because they’re angry, rather than wanting attention. They don’t know how to handle their emotions, and they’ve been taught on the street that any display of feelings is a weakness.”
Blake smiled. “Listen to you—you sound like Dr. Wilde already.”
I attempted a smile and went back to staring out the window.
Rupert Kravitz’s home was in the tiny village of Sagaponack, which was part of the Hamptons. If Blake hadn’t told me it was the most expensive zip code on the East Coast, I might’ve actually liked the quaint little town as we drove through. But as soon as he started to rattle off the names of famous people who lived here and how many Goldman Sachs brokers owned houses on the water, I got the same bad taste in my mouth as I did going home to good ol’ Greenwich and my father’s uppity cronies.
To be honest, I regretted coming today.
Inside the Kravitz compound, I felt like I’d walked into a retirement party. Men with white hair, khaki pants, and navy blazers stood around drinking out of crystal tumblers, while their frozen-faced wives wore big hats to keep their Botox shielded from sun damage. I smiled as Blake made introductions, putting on the same plastic smile I’d used at my father’s parties for years. Outside, there were some younger guys, but Blake definitely seemed to be one of the youngest, if not the youngest. I also noticed I’d met a lot of partners named Rupert, Michael, and Larry, and while there was at least some diversity among the men, there wasn’t a single Susan, Michelle, or Christine.
“Does your firm not like women partners?” I asked discreetly on our way over to an outdoor bar set up by the pool.
Blake smiled. “We have one. We had two, but one left.”
“How many partners are there in total?”
“There are nine senior partners who manage the firm, and twenty-eight additional partners who share in equity.”
“Thirty-seven partners and you have one woman—and of course the one who left. Could she have left because she felt out of place?”
He chuckled. “Elaina left because she moved to Greece, actually. That’s where she was originally from. Her mom got sick, so she took a leave to go take care of her, and while she was there, she decided she wanted the simpler life back home.”
“Why are there so few women partners?”
“I guess because it’s not easy to make partner at the firm. The average attorney works seventy to eighty hours a week for more than ten years before they make it. You graduate law school around twenty-four, and a lot of women want a less-demanding job because they get married and have kids, or they plan to.”
“That sounds incredibly archaic.”
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “But it’s a work-life-balance decision. If you’re married to your job, it’s difficult to be married to anyone else. Just ask my ex-wife.” We stepped up to the bar. “You want wine?”
“Sure. White, please.”
While we waited for our drinks, I gazed around. “You introduced me to a lot of wives, so how do these guys make it work?”
“They don’t. Not with their first wives anyway.” Blake surveyed the room. “Not a single woman I can see at the moment is an original. When you marry the first time, you usually marry for love, and that person expects your love and time in return. After that doesn’t work out, you marry for companionship and convenience. All your cards are on the table, so both of you know what you’re getting yourselves into.”
“That sounds…sad.”
“Maybe. But it’s also realistic. Many women lose out on partnerships because they want a family, but just as many men lose out on a family because they want a partnership.”
I wasn’t sure if it was my mood before we arrived, or the conversation we’d just had, but a feeling of melancholy settled in. Blake’s description of a second wife made me realize that was basically what I was searching for—a companion to spend time with but never really love. It made me sad that I’d never have passion, not the kind that consumes your heart, body, and soul, anyway. Sure, there was sexual passion—that I could have. And over the last few years that had been enough. I might’ve even forgotten anything more than that could exist. But it seemed impossible to put out of my mind these days.
“Will you be okay for a few minutes?” Blake asked. “I need to hit the men’s room after the long drive.”
“Oh…yeah, sure.”
He kissed my cheek, and I actually felt relieved when he walked away. I needed to be alone for a few minutes. My stupid emotions were getting the best of me today. Yet as I stood staring into the clear, blue pool water, I couldn’t help but think about Donovan. What I felt around him was so different than what I felt when I spent time with Blake. Donovan made me want—want more, to take more risks, to trust again, to believe the world could change and be a good place. It physically hurt to keep trying to stomp all of those feelings down. I sighed and sipped my wine.
Too soon, Blake returned. “Did you miss me?” he said.
“Of course,” I lied.
A light breeze blew, prickling my skin. I had on a sundress, and I rubbed my arm from the chill.
“You’re cold?” Blake’s brows furrowed.
“I wasn’t until just now. The breeze gave me a little chill.”
Blake had a napkin wrapped around the drink in his hand. He took it from the glass and used it to wipe perspiration from his forehead. “I must’ve missed that breeze you got. If it comes again, send it my way. It’s hot as hell over here by the pool.”
I figured it was because he had a long-sleeve dress shirt on, while I was wearing a sundress. “Why don’t we go stand under the awning? I’m not really cold. It was just that little breeze that gave me goose bumps.”
“That’d be great, if you don’t mind.”
We started to walk toward the house, me in front of Blake. I’d been looking down, careful not to get my heel stuck in the lawn, but when we reached the patio, I looked up and froze. Blake bumped into my back, spilling some of his drink over my exposed skin. He apologized, but I was too busy staring straight ahead to pay attention to whatever he said.
Those goose bumps hadn’t been from a breeze after all.
I blinked a few times to make sure my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. But the blue eyes boring into me were as real as could be.
What is Donovan doing here?
***
Now I was the one sweating.
I stood next to Blake, doing my best to pretend to be part of the conversation he was having with one of his partners, but my eyes kept going back to the man standing on the other side of the patio. Every thirty seconds or so, I glanced over at him, and each and every time I’d find him staring right back at me. I’d grown nervous that Blake was going to catch him and think he was checking me out, and it would hurt his chances of making partner. Blake had already said he wasn’t a big Donovan Decker fan. I stood rod straight, feeling like I was waiting for a car accident to happen. I could see it coming, barreling down the road at ninety miles per hour, yet I couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it.
I’d been lost in my head as the people around me talked, until the conversation finally caught my attention.
“I see that Mills and Decker have arrived. What’re your thoughts on the two of them?”
“I like Mills,” Blake said. “He’s got a good head on his shoulders, makes solid decisions, and has put in his time. Decker’s a better lawyer, but he’s also a hothead. He acts on emotions, and that signals he’s probably not ready for partnership.”
“That’s true.” The other guy tilted his drink at Blake. “But Decker also runs circles around Mills’s billing. And he brings in a nice chunk of new business. He’s made a name for himself among the Wall Street rainmakers as one to go to when the shit hits the fan. I wouldn’t want him to jump ship and take that business with him. We need to give him a reason to stick around.”
Blake shrugged. “I haven’t decided for sure yet.” He looked over at me and winked. “I’m seeing how a few things pan out.”
I cleared my throat. “I thought today was a barbecue just for the partners?”
“It is. Well, sort of. The partners all come, but the final candidates up for partner are always invited, too. It’s a way to get to know them outside the office. A lot of the partners have had very little interaction with guys from different divisions, yet they get to vote. So it’s tradition that the candidates are invited.”
The other guy smirked. “It’s their final opportunity to grovel.”
A few minutes later, the partner who owned the house called Blake inside. He excused himself and kissed my cheek. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
The minute he stepped from the deck through the archway, Donovan made his way over. My heart was beating out of my chest by the time he stood next to me.
“Didn’t expect to see you here.” His voice was steady, but his eyes were swimming with emotion.
I frowned. “I had no idea you would be here either. Blake said it was a partners’ barbecue, and you never mentioned you were coming.”
Donovan drank from a beer bottle. It wasn’t lost on me that he was probably the only one not drinking from a crystal glass at this swanky party. He eyed me over the top of the bottle as he swallowed. “I called you yesterday. You didn’t return my call.”
“Sorry. I…I was busy.”
“Busy avoiding me…”
“Donovan, I…” Over his shoulder, I saw Blake step out of the house and back onto the deck. Donovan must’ve noticed the change in my face, and he turned to follow my line of sight.
Blake was only a few feet away when Donovan turned back around. He looked back and forth between my eyes before leaning forward to whisper, “It’s fucking killing me to see his hands on you—even just your back. Do you like the way it feels when he touches you?”
His words might’ve sounded angry, but there was so much hurt in his voice. My chest tightened, and I had to swallow to clear the lump in my throat. Donovan pulled back and straightened, chugging the rest of his beer without taking his eyes from me.
“Decker,” Blake said with a curt nod. His hand snaked around my waist and Donovan’s eyes shifted to stare at the fingers visible from the front. My eyes closed as I silently prayed he wouldn’t do something stupid.
“Dickson.” Donovan returned the brisk greeting.
“What’s going on with Autumn’s case? I thought passing it to you would be a smart decision. But I’m starting to second-guess myself. I was counting on you to at least get the charges knocked down to a misdemeanor.”
Donovan’s jaw tightened. “Actually, I was able to get Storm into a pre-trial diversion program. The charges will be completely dropped if he does a few minor things and keeps his nose out of trouble for a year.”
I blinked. “You were?”
Donovan nodded. “I called you to discuss the details yesterday—went right to voicemail after one ring. You must’ve been on the phone…or pushed ignore.”
I laughed nervously. “I must’ve been on the phone. I guess I haven’t checked my messages, but that’s such great news. How did you manage to make that happen? It was his third strike, so I thought he was really in trouble.”
Donovan’s lips curved to what resembled a smile, yet there was nothing happy about it. “Sold my soul to the devil. But I figured this was an important case and worth it.”
Blake took his hand from my waist and extended it toward Donovan. “Nice job. I’ll remember this. You’ve really surprised me lately. I thought for sure you’d dump old man Bentley after the crap he pulled last week.”
Donovan’s eyes flashed to mine. He put his hand in Blake’s waiting one, but his words were clearly directed my way. “I wanted to, but I realized it probably wasn’t the best idea.”
The woman whom I’d been introduced to earlier as the hostess of the party, the wife of the partner whose house we were at, walked over and wrapped her hands around Donovan’s bicep. “There you are. It’s nice to see you, Donovan.”
“You, too, Monica.”
“My husband refused to ask if you were single, so I thought I’d come over and do the honors.”
Again Donovan’s eyes met mine. “I am.”
“Good.” She tilted her head toward the pool where a gorgeous woman stood.
She was probably in her mid-twenties and wore a short, white dress that showcased tanned legs a mile long. “I’d like to introduce you to my niece. She just moved here from California and starts law school in the fall. I thought maybe you two could be friends.”
Jealousy coursed through my veins. I knew it was absolutely ridiculous, considering I was standing with another man’s arm wrapped around me. But logic didn’t change what I felt.
Donovan smiled graciously. “Of course.” He nodded once more to Blake and followed the hostess over to the woman at the pool without another glance my way.
For the rest of the afternoon, I attempted to focus on whatever conversation I was supposed to be part of while trying not to watch a certain two people across the yard. I failed miserably. Every time the blonde tossed her hair, I felt like a bull eyeing a red cape—and Lord, did she whip her tresses around. I was grateful it was a hot day, so the reddening of my face would be less conspicuous. At one point, she pressed her hands to Donovan’s chest as she laughed, and I just really wanted to go home.
“Excuse me for a minute, please,” I said to Blake and whatever partner we were now talking to. Honestly, they all looked the same. “Could you direct me to the bathroom?”
“Of course.” He pointed toward the house. “Straight up the stairs and make a left or right. There’s one in either direction.”
At the top of the stairs, I turned left. But someone was in that bathroom, so I went in search of the other. Finding it free, I shut myself inside, tossed my purse on top of the toilet tank, and gripped the sides of the sink, exhaling deeply. It felt like the first time I could breathe in hours. I wanted to splash some cold water on my face, but I didn’t have makeup to fix the mess I’d make. So instead, I dropped my head, closed my eyes, and took a few deep breaths. After a minute or two, I started to feel a little better—until the knock came.
I have no idea why, but I just stared at the door without saying a word. After thirty or so seconds of silence, the handle jiggled back and forth, but I’d locked it behind me. When a little more time passed, I thought maybe the person had taken the hint, but then another knock came. And this time, it was followed by a voice.
“It’s me.”
Donovan.
I walked over to the door and leaned my head against it, speaking quietly. “Go away.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Open the door, Autumn.”
I debated arguing with him, but I had a feeling he wouldn’t back down, and I didn’t want anyone to notice him standing around talking through the bathroom door. So I unlocked it.
Donovan opened it hesitantly. When I didn’t say or do anything, he stepped inside and clicked the lock shut behind him.
“You better not stay too long,” I said. “Your new friend will wonder where you are.”
The corner of Donovan’s lip twitched. “Jealous?”
I frowned. “No.”
His twitchy lip gave way to a full-blown, smug smile. “Right.”
I sighed. “What do you want, Donovan? You’re going to get caught in here. You should go back downstairs.”
“I don’t give a shit about getting caught. And what do I want? I thought you’d figured that out by now.” He moved closer. “I want you, Autumn.”
I looked down, shaking my head. “Just go with the blonde.” Even saying the words caused a sharp pain inside my chest.
“I don’t want the blonde. I want what’s right in front of me.” He slipped two fingers under my chin and nudged my head up so our eyes met. “I’m goddamn crazy about you, Autumn. And I know you feel the same way about me. What’s it going to take for you to finally admit it?”
I tasted salt in my throat and swallowed hard to fight the tears I knew were on their way. “I can’t, Donovan.”
He stepped closer. “You can. I don’t know what’s got you so afraid, but whatever it is, I’ll help you get through it.”
I could handle being jealous. I could handle him being jealous and angry, but I couldn’t handle him being so damn amazing and caring. Tears brimmed my eyes.
“Donovan…”
He took another step closer and cupped my cheeks. A warm tear spilled over and started to roll down my face, but his thumb caught it. “I don’t know what else to say to convince you. So I want to show you.” He looked back and forth between my eyes. “Stop me now if you’re not okay with that.”
My heart pounded in my chest. My head was a damn mess of conflicting emotions, but my body wasn’t. It wanted what was on the verge of happening more than I could ever remember wanting anything—so much so that my lips parted, and my tongue slid along my mouth to wet them before I could even catch up to think about what they were preparing for. Donovan watched intently. Even though my body had basically just rolled out the red carpet and invited him to kiss me, he still gave me time to change my mind.
He leaned closer, inch by painstaking inch, until we were nose to nose, and my inhales became his exhales. One of his big hands slipped from my cheek to trail its way around to the back of my neck. Donovan looked into my eyes one last time, and even though he’d said I’d need to stop him, I saw a hint of hesitation. In that moment, the panic I’d been feeling about him kissing me suddenly turned into panic that he wouldn’t. So I nodded.
The biggest smile crossed his face, just before he crushed his lips to mine. Our tongues eagerly collided. It had been close to a year since we’d kissed, yet our bodies needed no time to get reacquainted. Donovan’s hand at my neck slid down to my ass, and with one quick hitch, he hoisted me into the air. My legs wrapped around his waist, and he turned and walked us until my back hit the wall. Donovan grinded between my parted legs, and a hand wound into my hair and yanked my head back, exposing my neck. He groaned as he kissed his way from my lips to my chin and sucked along my neck.
“Fuck,” he growled. “Do you feel it? You must. It’s clawing from the inside trying to get out.” He took my mouth again.
Nothing had ever tasted so good or felt so right. Absolutely nothing. It was impossible to deny the physical connection, even if I kept denying the emotional one.
I wasn’t sure how long we stayed like that—kissing and grabbing, groping and grinding—but I never wanted it to end. Everything felt so very right, so perfect. Though you know what they say about all good things…
They get interrupted by a knock at the door.
“Donovan…”
