work either. She had been swamped since she got back. She hoped he was all right, despite his harsh words to her. Her mother had soothed those wounds. She was planning to see Peter that night. He was the bright spot in her life. She had much to tell him, and about her lunch with Cass. She wasn’t going to tell him about Alex—she had made a sacred vow. But at least she could share with him her concerns about the others, her victories and private griefs. Her life would have been much harder without him. It was what Phillip didn’t understand, and her mother did.
Chapter 15
Phillip had been in a terrible mood ever since his fight with his mother over Peter. He had talked to John about it again when he got home, and they got in a huge argument. So currently, he was at odds with his mother and his brother. He still felt the same way about it. John said he was crazy and owed their mother an apology. Phillip had no intention of apologizing to her, now or ever.
And he had hardly seen his wife since their holiday on the boat. She had been swamped at her office, had three new clients, and was preparing for a trial. She had been in the office till all hours every night, and he had gone to dinner with suppliers who were in from out of town. He was hoping to catch up with Amanda that night.
He poured himself a drink when he got home, and sat down on the couch to relax. He was thinking about his mother again and how angry he was with her. He was relieved he hadn’t had to see her in meetings all week. He wasn’t sure he could have sat through it, particularly if Peter was there.
He hadn’t said anything about it to Amanda yet, because he hadn’t spent enough time with her. They were meeting like ships passing in the night. And he knew Amanda didn’t like his mother. He didn’t want to give her more ammunition for their next fight, when she would tell him he was his mother’s puppet and had no balls, or now, that his mother was the mistress of a married man. It was bad enough knowing it himself, and too humiliating sharing it with someone else, even his wife.
He was going over papers from work when Amanda walked through the door. She threw down her briefcase, answered her cell phone, opened a bottle of white wine, and barely said hello. She had the glass in her hand when she finally did.
“How was your day?” she asked him in a supercilious tone, as though his days were insignificant compared to hers, since he was only his mother’s slave, and she was a partner in a major law firm. It was all over her face and in her voice.
“My day was fine,” he said in a neutral tone, not taking the bait. “How was yours?” There was no visible affection between them. They were like two business partners meeting up after a long week and comparing notes.
“Pretty damned good actually,” she said with a sudden grin. “I got the appointment today.” She had been lobbying for it for more than two years. “You’re looking at the next federal judge on the bench!” she said victoriously, as he smiled, and got up to kiss her.
“Congratulations!” He was happy for her. She had wanted it so badly, it had been all she could talk about for months.
“Thank you. I’ll admit, it’s pretty impressive, if I do say so myself.” There was nothing humble about Amanda, but it was one of the things he had always liked about her. She was a strong woman and made no apology for it. “I think we’ll need to make some changes around here. I want to start doing some entertaining, of the right people, of course. I think we need to redo the living room, the house in the Hamptons needs work, I need a new wardrobe, and you need a bigger boat.” She had it all planned. She was not going to be some two-bit federal judge. She was going to make a big splash, and she wanted to become one of the most powerful women on the bench. She had fantasies about becoming an appellate judge one day. “And I think you need to make some very major donations to important charitable and political causes, Phillip.” She had his work cut