“All right.”
He told her. Countersuit for filing a frivolous lawsuit. Countersuit for libel, pending Cooper tracing the dead-fly email to a computer owned by Tara Marchand. Countersuit for slander, predicated on a deposition of Mary’s sister, which he believed he could break under cross. Three more countersuits for harassment, stalking, and criminal mischief.
She set her coffee down. “That’s six lawsuits.”
“I’m holding two more in reserve in case I need them.”
“Will the judge let you file six lawsuits?”
“He has no choice. He won’t be pleased, that’s for sure.” He picked up his mug again. “Tara’s lawyer is going to look at his caseload this afternoon and ask his secretary to clear his calendar for the next two weeks. By tomorrow, he’ll have read all my filings, and he’ll call Tara to ask her if she really wants to do this. He may even resign as her counsel. If he doesn’t resign, he’s going to try to convince her to settle her lawsuit with you.”
“And you don’t want her to settle.”
“I do not.”
She studied him. His voice was cold and certain again. Not unkind. She could not even, honestly, call it unfriendly. But she wouldn’t want to be on the other side if a courtroom from him .
“You’re scary,” she said.
“Only on Thursdays.”
“Ha ha,” she replied. “Eat something. It takes a lot energy being that scary.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She put two pieces of bread in the toaster and pulled the butter out of the fridge. She set a plate at his elbow and he took it without comment. She was discovering that Reno didn’t argue about food. He took it when she gave it to him and he ate it without performance.
Liam had been a performance eater. Every meal had been an event. Honey, you outdid yourself this time. This is the best sandwich on Earth. Lily got that gene. Reno didn’t have it. Reno ate his toast and his quiet was its own kind of compliment.
She hadn’t expected to find that restful, but she did.
The rest of the morning routine was uneventful. Lily woke up somewhat less grumpy than usual, but by the time she’d finished breakfast was back to her usual sunny self. They all got ready for the day, and by the time she and Lily were ready to walk out, he was at the back door holding his keys.
It occurred to her that he had become part of their morning routine, now. She wasn’t going to know what to do without him when the stalker was caught and he returned to his own life. She was going to miss him. A lot.
Mary was already in the kitchen when Grace let herself in. That was the first wrong thing. Mary never got here before six.
Mary also had on yesterday’s shirt and her hair was up in a messy knot. Mary’s hair was never messy. She was kneading bread dough as if it was the problem in her life.
Grace tied on her apron and watched Mary. Her assistant didn’t look up. Didn’t speak at all. Mary put the dough in the proofing drawer and reached for the next round of dough without even looking at her boss.
“You all right?” Grace asked gently.
“I’m fine.”
“Mary.”
“I said I’m fine, Grace.”
She let it be. Mary would tell her in her own time.
By six-forty-five, the proof drawer was full and the front case had its first run of the day’s scones. Tessa came in with her tablet computer, complaining about a bride who’d wanted lavender lace and was now demanding ecru.
“I don’t even think she knows what ecru is,” Tessa declared. “She sent Charlotte three swatches, and none of them were ecru.”
“Sounds like it’s whatever color she wants it to be this week.”
“I swear, I should add an ecru surcharge.”
