I stopped and swiveled to look at her. I had nothing rational to say, nothing sensible. I had only one name. A name I couldn't possibly say out loud. A name I couldn't even say to myself.

I could only repeat the same lame line. "I'm sorry."

Her head shook slightly and she clutched her arms around herself. "I won't give up."

I walked away from her. Sadness filled my veins. For the hurt I had caused Lenor. For not loving her as much or how she deserved to be loved.

And then I heard her words. "I'll get you back, Josh. I'll get you back."

twenty-five.

Cassie.

Past midnight, my toes and heels were the only things I could think of.

Sam had dropped off the radar and hadn't bothered with an explanation. Talk about leading by example. So I'd picked up his night shift at the last minute. I owed him one to cover his ass when he needed me to. I wasn't left on my own though. There were a couple of other waiters but I'd found myself cleaning up after them and smoothing things with customers.

I leaned on the edge of a stool along the bar counter and twirled my sore toes around inside my boots. That was the damage eight hours of non-stop running and stamping around could cause. But the day was over. I'd made some extra cash covering for Sam, plus tips. Not as much as what I'd have made in the U.S., but better than nothing.

"Long day?"

Heat spread over my cheeks, eyes firmly planted on my feet. I kept staring at where my toes should have been inside my boots. Still, I knew I had to be gutsy enough to look back at Josh.

Had his eyes changed from hazelnut to charcoal overnight? Because right now, they were setting me on fire like a freakin' barbecue. I got up and landed back on my feet to stand in front of him. I shoved my hands in the back pockets of my jeans.

"I didn't expect to see you until tomorrow," I mumbled.

"I've moved out." He stepped forward and took the stool next to mine. "It's done." I caught a glimpse of some very well-defined pecs underneath the grey T-shirt that hung over his waist. Even seated like that, Josh managed to make me feel tiny and powerless. I didn't like that.

Or maybe I did.

"Where are you staying?" Small talk made me feel more comfortable.

"Patrick Whittaker's place."

I knew that name. "He was Freddie's... fling."

"Emphasis on 'was.'"

It had been a long day for Josh too. He also had dark circles under his eyes and his preppy haircut looked messy.

"Do you want a drink??" His stare zeroed in on me and I tried not to shrink. "On the house."

I gave a quick look around. The place was empty. One of the guys I worked with was locking the doors, and I had kind of saved the day after all. I deserved a free drink. Sharing one with Josh after last night? Not very wise...

But he was already screening the row of bottles on the other side of the bar. "A shot of Makers Mark could do the trick."

I circled around the bar and poured us two generous shots. I should have stayed on the other side of the counter, but instead I sat down on the stool next to his.

Apart from the noise of our shot glasses clinking against each other, there was total silence. I cast a glance around the pub. It was just the two of us left. I let the bourbon burn its way down my throat. I waited for it to steady my breathing. It didn't.

"The academic year in Oxford is almost over. I'm done here." Josh had turned all business like and his eyes drilled into me. "We should discuss what happens next."

"Su-Sure." I knocked down the rest of my glass.

"I've already been in touch with people I know in D.C., some headhunters and Georgetown alumni."

"Headhunters," "alumni," they were foreign words to me, but I nodded anyway.

"I won't be able to finalize any job offers before I get back to the U.S." I kept nodding, but felt out of my depth. "My education will play in our favor, but we will need to show we can provide for Lucas financially before applying formally. So I'll need at least a job offer. And even if I get one as soon as I'm back in D.C., the job might not start until September."

"But it's June. I can't leave Lucas in foster care for four months."

Josh took hold of my hand. His eyes searched mine. "We can always rent something in Kansas City for a couple of months to stay close to him over the summer."

My chin dipped and I gritted my teeth. I wanted to contribute to Lucas's care with more than tips and a table-waiting income.

"I contacted a lawyer in Kansas City last night after we...." After we almost had sex on the street? "We need someone to pave the way for us and make sure we have chance on our side."

Worry made me swallow my pride. "Do we have a chance?"

Josh shrugged. "I don't know. We gave him up once before. They might hold that against us. We'll also need to live outside Kansas. The jobs I want are in D.C."

A weight settled in my stomach. I'd been so focused on getting to Josh, on telling him about Lucas, on convincing him to help me, I hadn't really thought about what would come after.

"I'll work double shifts if I have to but I'll pay for the lawyer." I had no idea how much a fancy lawyer would cost though.

Josh's gaze settled on me as if he was trying to read my thoughts. "Cass, you don't need to worry. I can take a short-term loan. It's no big deal. Or my dad can always give me an advance."

The mention of Jack MacBride made me shift on the bar stool. Throughout all this mess, one thing was crystal clear: Josh's father would rather have his guts stripped from his body while still alive than do anything to help us get Lucas back.

"There's something I need to know first, though." Josh's tone was lower.

I stifled my need to shuffle on my seat again. I had nothing to hide anymore. Almost nothing.

"How did you manage to put Lucas up for adoption without my signature?"

"I...hmm..."

"We were married at the time of the adoption. By law, that means you couldn't give Lucas away without my permission."

I dropped my gaze and fiddled with the sleeves of my shirt. "Josh...if anyone finds out I forged your signature, I'll go to jail and Lucas will stay in the System."

My stomach clenched and I jumped back to my feet. I didn't want to lie to Josh. Not any more, but this truth would hurt. His hand curled tightly around my wrist. He'd stood up at the same time as I did, and my nose was almost brushing against his T-shirt. I breathed in his scent.

"I asked the lawyer to send me a copy of the adoption papers," he said. "He emailed them to me a couple of hours ago. I saw who witnessed the signing."

I chose to stay mute. The pressure on my wrist increased and I winced.

Josh continued, "It was Frank Webster, Steep Hill's attorney and my dad's best buddy."

I sighed. There was no way I could hide the truth now.

"Did my dad know about the adoption?"

In a not so secret place in my heart, I hated Jack MacBride with a vengeance. The man had kicked me to the ground when I was at my lowest; and with me, my child. He could rot in hell.

But he was Josh's father and I didn't want Josh hurt more than he already was.

"Tell me the truth, Cass." His voice trailed off. "For the sake of the small amount of trust I have in you, tell me the truth."

My body flopped back onto the bar stool and I gave a small nod.

Josh's reaction mirrored my own. His gaze lost somewhere in the empty room.

"Anything else I should know?" he asked.

I nodded again. "He's the one who told me about your early admission to Georgetown."

"How dare he?" Anger made Josh's voice tremble. "You both played me like a fool."

"And you played me like a fool by hiding it."

Josh focused back on me and a frown creased his forehead. "I had to. I wanted to take care of you and if you had known about the admission, you wouldn't have gone ahead with the wedding... or the baby."

He delivered the answer as if I were a half-wit for asking about it in the first place.

"So you lied to me for my own good?" I baited him.

"Exactly."

I shook away his hold on me, wriggled and walked myself away from him.

"So tell me, Josh, what's the difference between what you did and what I did? We both lied to protect the other."

"What I did can't compare to the lengths you went to take my son away from me!"

My tongue weighed a ton. I couldn't defend myself. Or apologize.

Josh ran his hands through his short hair. I took a further step back and clasped my hands in front of me. Would it always be like this between us? The resentment, the guilt, the lack of trust.

Was this the family Lucas would grow up in?

"I think we've said enough for tonight." Josh retraced his steps to the door and unlocked it. Before he exited, he turned toward me. "I'll contact you tomorrow to tell you what the plan is."

I didn't react. Each time I was with Josh, was like being on trial, waiting for the verdict to fall. I was judged for the same crime over and over again.

"Good night," he said, this time searching for my answer.

I kept still.

I heard the door click shut.

I started breathing again, breathing his clean scent, and that trace of him made the hollow inside of me ache even more.

twenty-six.

Josh.

Bruce Carrington wasn't a man you wanted to piss off.

He was a man you wanted to please, keep happy and on your side. I'd failed so badly at doing just that, it was almost suicidal.

Lenor's father had invited me to share breakfast with him at the Randolph, Oxford's upper-crust hotel. The truth was, I'd been summoned. I wasn't nervous, though. I had majorly screwed up with Lenor, I deserved a real dressing-down. Nothing less.

Now Mr. Carrington could also do much worse. He could hurt my career and pretty much destroy all I worked for by simply whispering a couple of words to a couple of ears in D.C.

He was already sitting at the table in the room where breakfast was being served, his attention on The Wall Street Journal spread out in front of him. He sweated power and ruthlessness from every pore. Once upon a time he'd been just like me: a bright Midwest kid on an Ivy League scholarship. Lenor thought her dad and I were cut from the same cloth. But looking at him now and the decisions I'd made over the last days, I doubted it.

I cleared my throat and managed to drag his attention away from the newspaper.

"Good morning, Joshua," was his greeting. Since the last time I had seen him at the Oxford Union, we'd switched from "son" to a first-name basis.

"Good morning, sir."

He gestured for me to take a seat opposite him. I did. He offered me coffee. I accepted. He folded away his newspaper, laid it next to his plate, and his eyes zeroed in on me.

"I was planning to go back to London for business to make the most of my stay in Europe." He took a sip of his coffee. "However, after the distress you put my daughter through, I've decided to stay here until my appearance at the gala dinner."

He was one of the keynote speakers at the event taking place at Rhodes House tomorrow night. Lenor and I were supposed to be there, given that current scholars, myself included, were to be honored. I guessed we wouldn't be sitting at the same table anymore.

I squared my shoulders and rested my back against my seat. I wasn't going to shy away from the hurt I caused.

"I am truly sorry for what I am putting Lenor through. I have no excuse for what I did."

"Indeed. Have you considered the damage you'd have caused our family if she had married a bigamist?"