Knit Two Together. Connie Lane

said into the phone. “Yeah. Of course. You know that’s true. I just didn’t think—” He spun his chair toward the window. “I’ll take care of it,” he said. “Don’t worry. We’ll just need to move on this faster and hey, that’s not such a bad thing, is it?”

      As soon as he hung up, Libby stepped into the office. “Problems?”

      Rick turned his chair around. “Nothing I can’t handle.” He looked her over, and for the second time in as many minutes, Libby felt her heart skip a beat. She swore she could feel a little lick of fire every time Rick looked at her.

      This time, though, his gaze stopped at the file folder she carried.

      “You want to talk business.”

      Libby dropped into the guest chair across from where Rick sat. “Is that so unusual?”

      “No, it’s just that…” He cleared his throat. “I’ve got some things to talk to you about, too.”

      “Oh, no, buster. Me first. You’re not stealing my thunder.” For reasons she’d already examined and dismissed as unfounded, she wasn’t as excited about selling the knit shop as she knew Rick would be. But she didn’t mind pretending. After all the stress caused by the business slump the law firm was experiencing, he deserved a little pampering. “Good news. I got an offer on the property in Cleveland.”

      “Take it.”

      “Just like that? You don’t want to know how much they offered?”

      He shrugged. “I don’t much care.”

      “I thought you did. I thought—”

      “You’re always putting words in my mouth.” Rick got up and crossed the room to close his office door. He stood with his back to her. “You know I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I’m just thinking about you, Lib. You need to have that Palmer woman out of your life.”

      “That Palmer woman…” Libby gave the words the same inflection Rick had. As if they tasted bad. “She was my mother.”

      “And a lousy one at that.”

      “There’s no denying it. But that doesn’t mean—”

      “What? That you should go on some kind of Indiana Jones quest?” Rick spun around. “You’re thinking about going to Cleveland again, aren’t you? Let’s face it, you’re not going to find something there that explains why Barb treated you the way she did. Or why, after all these years, she left you her business. What are you looking for, a letter? ‘Dear Libby, here are all the reasons I abandoned you, now you can live happily ever after’?”

      “Of course not!” Though she denied it, Libby had to admit—at least to herself—that the thought had occurred to her. It was preposterous, sure. That didn’t make it any less appealing. And Rick should have known that.

      She pulled in a breath to steady her racing heart. “I didn’t come in here to argue,” she said. “We’ve talked about it all before.”

      “Ad nauseam.”

      “Really?” Tears stung Libby’s eyes. She sniffed and stood. “And here I thought we were discussing an important part of my life because you cared about me.”

      In an instant Rick’s anger dissolved. He stepped toward her but stopped short of folding her into a hug. “Of course I care,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’ve just been so preoccupied. You know that, Lib. You know I’ve got other things on my mind. That’s why when you said you had an offer, I figured we’d put an end to this whole thing.”

      If he wasn’t going to make the first move, Libby would. She reached for Rick’s hand and folded her fingers over his. “It’s just that now that it’s come down to crunch time—”

      “Nobody’s better in a crisis than you are.” He flashed a smile that disappeared quickly. “You know this is the right thing to do, Lib. It’s time to put that part of your life to rest.”

      “I know. I have, but—”

      “We could really use the money.”

      “Yeah.” Libby pulled in a breath and let it out slowly. “You’re right.”

      Rick untangled himself from her grasp and retreated to the other side of his desk. “One more thing off our to-do list.”

      “But there are other things we need to discuss.” She waved the file folder. “I’ve been going over the list of people we could let go.”

      “You know we have to do it.”

      “I know. But I’ve been thinking…we could keep three clerical people. If we cut somebody with a higher salary.”

      Rick dropped into his chair. “I was thinking the same thing.”

      Libby was relieved. She flipped open the folder, took out the paperwork on Belinda Acton, the firm’s newest attorney, and handed it to Rick. “She’s been here only a few months,” she said. “There aren’t any strong ties and she’s not responsible for many billable hours. Besides, she’ll find something else fast.”

      Rick’s gaze snapped to her. “It’s out of the question.”

      “But that’s crazy, Rick. Belinda will be sitting pretty in a matter of weeks.”

      “She stays.”

      “Then who?”

      He pulled in a breath, but his gaze never wavered from hers. “You.”

      Libby opened her mouth to respond, but the words refused to form on her lips.

      “Come on, Lib, it’s the most plausible plan and you know it. You’re going to quit anyway.”

      She heard what Rick was saying, but it was as if he was speaking another language. Her knees turned to jelly, and Libby dropped into the closest chair. “I have no plans to quit. I never did. I took this job when you needed extra help. I’ve been good for the firm.”

      “And you’ve got the place running like clockwork. I’m grateful. But, come on, let’s be honest. You also know that you’ve got something of a pattern. You know, a reputation?”

      He smiled at her the way she’d seen him smile at Meghan when their daughter didn’t understand her math homework. As if the truth was staring her right in the face and if she looked a little harder she was bound to see it.

      “You quit law school,” he said.

      “Ancient history.” It was, and so ridiculous Libby nearly laughed. Until she realized that Rick wasn’t kidding. “I quit law school because of you,” she said, reminding him though she shouldn’t have had to. “We both couldn’t afford to stay in school. And let’s face it, we all say it isn’t real, but that glass ceiling does exist. We knew your income would outpace mine eventually. Besides, I wouldn’t have had to quit if your father had paid for your schooling. If you two hadn’t been going at each other like cats and dogs—”

      “We wouldn’t have been going at each other like cats and dogs if I hadn’t been dating you. I gave up—”

      “What?” Libby rose and looked around the office with its to-die-for view and expensive furnishing. “Looks like you and Daddy kissed and made up.”

      “Yeah, but not until I had a degree. One I paid for myself.”

      “You mean one I paid for. I gave up my dream of being an attorney. For you.”

      “You quit.”

      As if he’d slapped her, Libby stepped back, but before she could argue, Rick continued. “You quit your book discussion group.”

      “Oh, come on, that’s not even in the same ballpark. Besides, that was because I took the job here!”

      “You quit your yoga class.”

      “When