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)
“Because I can’t do that once we’re on duty.”
She gives me one of her beautiful smiles that really, truly just makes me want to take her to the back of the plane and fuck her. I settle for another kiss before we gather our things and head for the door. Once we’re in the backseat of a hired car, I show her the messages from Ashley and our starlet. “A party?” she asks. “Talk about bad timing, and the diva reference. Is she a diva?”
“She was well behaved with me, but her father was always present and I can tell you that he’s a man of rules, ethics and manners.”
She opens her mouth and shuts it. “I have comments. I have questions.”
I nod, understanding and respecting that my flight attendant story has stayed with her. There will be no conversation in public and right here, in this city, under these circumstances, caution is paramount, or I’d already have my hand on her knee. “Have you ever been to LA?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Never,” she says. “My three flights included Hawaii, when I was too young to remember, and Texas twice when I considered UT for law school.”
“You know my home state then.”
“I was going to ask you about that,” she says. “You called New York home last night. You let go of Houston quickly.”
“I love New York City. I was only in Houston because of the firm.”
“And your father.”
“My father was the firm,” I say. “He was rooted in Houston. I wanted growth. Now we’re growing.”
“You have no siblings?”
“Not that I know of,” I say, “and you already know he had a strong opinion on birth control.”
Her cell phone rings and she scrambles for her phone, and I sense the panic in her, the fear that she left her mother, and her mother is now sick again. She glances at the number on the phone and her hand actually shakes. “Mom? Is everything okay?” She listens a moment, and breathes out in relief that I swear I feel with her. I’ve never felt anything with a woman before outside of momentary lust. But I feel it, right in my gut and my heart.
“We just landed,” Lori says. “We’re good. All is well.” There’s a pause. “His sister. Oh, well, aren’t you glad you asked now?”
I listen to the short exchange that ends with, “I love you, Mom.”
I love you, mom.
Fuck.
I have this crazy, long buried memory of the last time I hugged my mother.
Lori ends the calls. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t ever be sorry for talking to your mother. That’s me saying that to you personally and professionally.”
Her eyes soften. “Thank you, Cole.”
I reach for her hand and discreetly squeeze it. “I take it the other woman was her new man’s sister?”
“Yes. She seems happy about it. I just don’t want her to get hurt or to lean on him like she did my father, and crash and burn again.”
And there it is. The wall between us. Her absolute fear of ever needing someone.
The car pulls up to the hotel and doormen open both of our doors. The minute I step outside, I feel the eyes on me, the way I feel the eyes on me when I first enter a courtroom. In that situation, I tune them out, center myself in the job, but here, now, I do not.
Lori joins me as I tip a bellman. The minute we’re clear of him and other nearby ears, walking through the lobby, she returns to the conversation we didn’t have in the car. “If Jerome Knight is such a good man, why did the police have such a hard-on for him?”
I laugh at her remark that she somehow delivers as if it’s ladylike, which is next to impossible. “The cops we took down, the ones that were after him, were actually in on the insider trading and they’d stolen millions from the company on top of that. With the help of Walker Security, we figured it out and went after them, which was Jerome’s decision. He knew they would come at him, but he wanted justice.”
“And they’re still coming.”
“Taking those cops down created a PR nightmare for the department, and trust issues with the public that they’ve done little to repair. Taking down the man who exposed the problem will perhaps create doubt that the problem was even real.”
“And challenge your credibility as an attorney,” she says, as we step into line, but remain a good distance behind the person in front of us.
“That won’t be easy to do,” I say, turning toward her and lowering my voice, “but without question, they want to take me down.”
“They’d need to prove you did something illegal, faked evidence, or something, to that effect.”
“That would be impossible,” I say, “but they have something up their sleeves which could be nothing more than using our client as leverage against her father.”