Total pages in book: 183
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Chapter thirty-one
Lori
Determined to make things right with Cole, I slip into the backseat of the car to find him on the phone. “Tell her I’ll call her from the plane when I have time and privacy.” He listens a moment, “Right,” he says, leaning forward to tap the driver’s seat. “I’ll text you.” He settles back in his seat, and disconnects his call, looking over at me. “That was Ashley calling from Paris again,” he says, his stare cool but not cold. “Our new client is freaking out and wants to talk to me.”
“Do you know any more details about why the police are questioning her?” I ask, relieved at how easily we slide right back into work.
“Not yet,” he says, “but once I talk to her, I’m going to call the lead on the case, and back him off until tomorrow.”
“Are you for sure taking the case?” I ask, thinking of his vow to only represent the innocent. “Do you know her well enough to assume her innocence?”
“Not even close,” he says, “but at this point, she’s not being charged, and based on my history with her father, I feel an obligation to at least ensure whatever happens is fair and honest. Once we get to Los Angeles, we’ll analyze her story, the facts, and law enforcement’s motives, and choose our position going forward.”
His cell phone rings and he glances at the number, “Reese,” he tells me before answering.
I listen to them talk about the trip, and the party right up to the point that we pull up in front of a high-rise off Central Park. “I need to go,” he says to Reese. “I’ll check in tomorrow.” He disconnects but doesn’t look at me. “I’ll be a few minutes.”
He opens his door and leaves with no invitation for me to follow, and just like that I’m left inside the car, on the outside of his world. Proof that no matter how much he’s included me in a work conversation, he’s now excluding me personally. He’s sending me a message. He’s pursued me. He’s made it clear he wants me. I’ve pushed him away, and finally, he’s going to let me win. He’s done. We’re done. Funny how you don’t know how much you want something until it’s dangling in sight but out of reach. Only he’s not out of reach yet, I remind myself, but he will be if I don’t do something now. I got in the car with a purpose, to mend our broken pieces, and now I need to get out to finish that mission.
I open the door and exit, heading inside the building, where I step onto shiny gray tiled floors with dangling lights overhead and I glance around at the clusters of leather seats here and there that I barely register. I’m looking for Cole and I don’t see him or much of anyone else for that matter. I really need to get to Cole, and for unexplainable reasons, time feels important. My attention turns to the security station between me and the elevator banks, and I hurry in that direction, trying not to run, but adrenaline is driving me hard and fast. “Excuse me,” I say to the tall, lanky man manning the post. “Can you please call Cole Brooks and tell him that Lori wants to come up?”
“Of course, miss.”
He picks up his phone and punches in a few numbers, listens, and then shakes his head. “No answer.”
“He just went up,” I say. “I was in his car waiting on him, but I need to go up and give him something he forgot. Can you try again or call his cell phone? Or I can call his cell phone and hand the call to you?”
He looks like he might argue, but he picks up the phone again, punches in those few numbers and then thankfully, he says, “Yes, Mr. Brooks. There’s a woman here that would like to come up. A Ms.—” He pauses. “Yes. Of course.” He hangs up. “The twenty-third floor, number 2311.”
“Thank you,” I say, nerves erupting in my belly as I turn away and head past him to the bank of elevators, four on either side of me, and punch the call button about six times.
The doors to one of cars opens and I rush inside. I hit floor twenty-three and if I could pace in the small space, I’d pace. I try to think of what I’m going to say when I get to Cole’s door, but my mind just isn’t producing anything. It appears I’m just going to go with whatever comes out of my mouth, which isn’t the normal way I like to operate, but I’ll make it work. The car ticks by floor after floor until finally I arrive at twenty-three. I’m at the doors waiting for them to open, when they finally part to allow my exit, and the minute I’m able, I step off, picking my direction, and my God, no wonder he didn’t answer the first call from security; he’s way at the end of the never-ending hallway.