Chapter 2

Chapter

2

“Mr. Wilde,

Mr. MacGregor asked for you to take a look at this case again. The client is coming in at eleven this morning for the deposition.”

He didn’t look up at the secretary he shared with five other lawyers, but he did glance at the thick tattered file on the edge of his desk that he’d spent hundreds of hours making notes on. It was a case that should have sickened him. The facts were murky, but the case was clear: their client was suing her rapist, her husband. But there was a twist. One of them was older and in a position of power, with resources available, whereas the other had none. If he had to have guessed who was who, he’d have been wrong.

Their client was the one with the money.

Samuel pulled the file closer and flipped it open. His job was to win at all costs. The case was clean, easy, with very few loose ends. Everything was tidy, a little too tidy. It was a case to put on record, something the police refused to do. But the story, he figured, had been well thought out.

A knock on his open door pulled him from his thoughts.

“So why do you think our client is pursuing this case so hard?” Erin Kaufman, a junior associate who often worked side by side with him, strode in and dumped a file on his desk along with a can of soda as she plunked herself down in a chair across from him. She had long hair that was so dark it was almost black. It was thick and shone under the office lighting.

She glanced up, obviously waiting for him to say something. Her dark-rimmed glasses slipped down her nose, which was slender and large, and she pushed the frames up. Her nose was the first thing he noticed about her every time he saw her. It was such a strikingly odd feature that seemed to fit with her oval face and olive coloring. She was Jewish, smart as hell, and his only nemesis in the office, someone who could and would challenge him for his job.

“She’s angry, as she has a right to be,” he said as he took in the thick file, the notes and pages, unable to shake that feeling of lies, more damn lies.

“Bullshit. She’s got an agenda,” Erin said. She leaned back, her brown ruffled blouse buttoned up to her neck. She lifted her soda and took a swallow, then twirled a pencil between her fingers.

“Maybe you should lay off that stuff,” Samuel said. “How many have you had this morning, five, six?”

Erin downed soda like others did coffee. He was tempted to shoot her the facts from a failed court case about the real effects of aspartame, which the FDA had and continued to cover up. Or maybe she’d tell him to go fuck himself again.

“Don’t change the subject. Three, though, which is probably three less than the number of coffees you’ve downed. Coffee’s not good for you, you know.”

“Maybe so, but my coffee isn’t likely to put me in a diabetic coma or leave me with cancer or numerous other health problems that make you older before your time. Like, when was the last time you had a peaceful night’s sleep?”

She rolled her brown eyes. He knew when she didn’t believe him, and she waved her hand in the air to let him know she wasn’t having this debate again. “Oh, I don’t know, Samuel. When was the last time you did?”

She had him there, but he knew his reasons had everything to do with Jill, his brothers, and the fact that his personal life was a mess.

Samuel rocked back in his swivel chair and gestured widely. “Look, she’s our client, and it’s not up to us to say she’s got an agenda. She hired us, which pays our salary, and I, for one, will give her the best legal counsel money can buy.”

“Wow, you’re cold. Besides, if our client is going to perjure herself, we do need to know so we’re not complicit. You know they frown on that kind of thing, and it can lead to a lawyer getting disbarred. I studied my ass off and put in countless hours to pass the bar, and I’m not willing to throw that away for any asshole who has money.”

“Now you’re being melodramatic. Neither you nor I know that she lied about anything. As a matter of fact, we don’t need to know.” Again, he gestured widely, wondering how the words could roll so easily off his tongue, and when would he start to believe them? “I mean, seriously, what makes you think she’s lying about being raped? She’s a woman, after all. Society, the world, and the courts are on her side on this.”

Erin stared at him over her can of soda. He never knew what she was thinking and whose side she was really on. “I didn’t say she lied about being raped. I’m saying there’s more, way more, a missing piece of the puzzle that could blow this entire case up.” She crossed her ankle over her knee, her dark skirt riding up. It was such a tomboyish move, and he wondered if she had any idea how unladylike it was in a dress or a skirt. Jill would never do something like that. Sometimes, the way Erin clunked around in her boyish flats made him wonder who she really was or what made her tick, considering he didn’t have a clue about her personal life.

“Okay, look, Erin.” He leaned back in his chair. “If you’ve got something we need to know about, tell me. Otherwise, drop it. She’s our client, and I really don’t want to waste time shooting this case in the foot. Remember, we’re trying to win here. It’s about looking after our client, which she is.”

“Yeah, but, Samuel, there’s something about this that doesn’t sit right.”

“What, exactly? The way she was so together, telling us the details of the rape, the way she didn’t shed a tear?” That was the one fact that had bothered him. Even though it had been her husband, the details were…alarming. But again, it wasn’t his place to judge, he’d reminded himself.

“No, not that. If anything, that was the one thing I did believe.” Erin dropped her foot to the floor with a thud and clunked her soda can down on his desk as she leaned forward, fisting her hands as if she had put a lot of thought into what she was about to say. “If she’d sat there sobbing like a baby, that would have raised some red flags, but she’s not someone who falls into hysterics. She’s a hard-ass, strong, difficult. The first time she walked into the room, I picked up on a will of iron, as if everything about her was unbreakable. Some women are tougher, you know, stronger than men.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he said. “Women cry and operate on emotion. It’s a well-known fact that you’re the weaker sex.”

For a second, as she stared daggers at him, Samuel wondered what was going through Erin’s head. Her dark eyes had a way of flashing “Fuck you” without her uttering a word. She stilled as she said, “I guess you’re the type of guy who always falls for the damsel in distress, a woman who needs a man to take care of everything for her, someone who couldn’t stand on her own two feet if her life depended on it.”

He snapped the pencil he’d picked up between his fingers. How could Erin be such a tough-as-nails bitch? Didn’t she get it? Men liked having a woman to take care of, to make decisions for. He did, and he always had—right? That was Jill and why he was with her.

“Oops, looks like I hit a nerve. Sorry,” she added with a ton of sarcasm. She pulled off her glasses and blinked before blowing on them and rubbing them clean with the hem of her blouse. Then she lifted them up, looked at them, and shoved them back on. “So you’re saying a woman who knows how to hold herself together, who can stay composed in the toughest of situations, think clearly, and not fall apart, who can easily reason before opening her mouth, that kind of woman is just acting, because women aren’t able to reason? That’s what you’re saying, right? Let’s not mince words here, Samuel.”

For a moment, he was speechless. How did she do that? She was so damn sharp that it took him a second to consider what to say next. Samuel realized Erin challenged him intellectually in a way no other man or woman ever had, and at times she made him feel as if he were a bumbling idiot. “You’re putting words in my mouth, Erin. That was not what I meant…”

There was a tap on his open door as Rob MacGregor, the managing partner, stopped in the doorway. He was tall, lean, in an off-gray suit that he knew didn’t come from a rack. “Erin,” he announced, “I’m going to have you sit in as second chair on the deposition with Jessica Stowles. Samuel, you okay to run with it? I have to be in court before Judge Adams at two.”

He didn’t need to look over at Erin to see that she was pleased at the invite. She had, up until now, been relegated to only grunt work, staying out of sight. Even though having Erin doing his grunt work had been a win-win, the fact that Rob was now giving her that leg up to work alongside him gave him the feeling that the reins he held were being pulled away.

“Samuel, that works for you?” Rob said, then glanced at his watch. It wasn’t really a question. He was a man who wouldn’t hear anything other than what he wanted to hear.

“Sure,” was all he said, then gestured to her and forced a smile to his lips even though this was his case and he didn’t need Erin to sit in on the deposition with him.

“Good. I expect to hear there were no problems.” Rob tapped the door frame and then walked away, briefcase in hand.

Samuel dropped his broken pencil to the desk, feeling that fire in his belly of just one more thing not going his way. He could feel Erin watching him. “Don’t say anything,” he said, hearing the asshole tone.

She took a deep breath and opened her mouth to say something when his phone rang. Normally, he’d have let it go to voicemail when he was with a colleague, but he’d had about enough of his sparring match with Erin for today, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d suddenly been toppled from the favorite of the managing partners to just a junior lawyer who needed someone to hold his hand.

He reached for the phone. “Samuel Wilde,” he said rather sharply.

“It’s me. I hope it’s okay that I called?” Jill had such a soft voice, and she sounded so hesitant. If Erin hadn’t been sitting there watching him, he’d probably have said something like “I’m busy, got to go,” and that would have been the end of it. She’d hang up, and he’d hang up. Why couldn’t he make this work?

He turned his chair, giving Erin his back. “No, it’s fine. What is it?”

“I have to go in to the doctor and thought you’d like to know,” she said. Cold, impersonal. When had the distance turned into cold obligation between him and Jill? They’d become two polite strangers, tiptoeing around each other. He leaned forward in his chair, feeling the pull of the cord of the phone, keeping his back to Erin.

“Did you tell me about this already? Sorry, I forgot. Is everything all right?” he said. “I didn’t think you had a checkup scheduled this week, or did I get my dates wrong?” He slid around and flipped open his laptop, then clicked the mouse to bring up the calendar. He tapped his finger on the screen, and, just as he thought, there was nothing scheduled for Jill until the next week. He didn’t need to look over to know Erin was listening to everything.

“I don’t. I didn’t. I mean, it’s just…”

He could hear her hesitation, and he looked down, really feeling the awkwardness. He always knew when she was holding something back. “What is it?” he said. Again, it had come out rather sharply. He didn’t miss the way Erin raised a brow, which made him uncomfortable, irritated, because she was listening, but Jill was bugging him, pulling the same flaky bullshit she always did. He didn’t have time for it now.

Jill always seemed hesitant to say things. She’d hold on to them forever without breathing a word—but she always showed the pain of whatever he’d done or said in her eyes. He could see it now even though she wasn’t standing in front of him. She never fought back, as if she didn’t want to bother him, which also made him feel like a world-class prick.

He squeezed the receiver when she said nothing. “Jill, look, I’m really busy, and I need you to get to the point and not do this silent bullshit.”

“I haven’t felt well for a while. I don’t think it’s anything, but I was dizzy. Maybe I got up too fast. I called the doctor, and he said to come in,” she finally spat out.

“Did you eat?” He hadn’t paid much attention to what she’d been doing. She was only working part time for Boeing in business operations, part of the team. She was one of many who collected and organized data, an easy job. She could do a lot of her work from the company laptop from home, so she was there most days, spending much of her time in his condo, working and waiting for him, where he wanted her and at the same time didn’t.

He could hear her hesitating again. It wasn’t a sound, rather something that always came through on the phone line or when they were in the same room together. She was doing that more often as of late, he realized, that hesitation, the lack of fight. He didn’t remember the last time he’d touched her.

“Come on, Jill. Spit it out. I don’t have time for this. I’ve got a deposition to get to and need to get ready.” He lifted his wrist, looking at his watch, again knowing he sounded short.

“Yes, I ate. It’s probably nothing. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

Why did she do that? For a moment, he wanted to reach through the phone and shake her. Instead, he took it and tapped it against his forehead in frustration. “Jill, for the love of God, just tell me. I don’t have time for twenty questions. Again, I have a deposition I’m trying to get ready for.” This was starting to become the only way he spoke to her. Of course, he didn’t miss Erin’s frown as he turned around again in his chair, feeling the pull of the telephone cord.

“I just felt not quite okay—flu symptoms, kind of shaky. That’s all, Samuel. I put off calling because I wasn’t sleeping well and thought it was that. The doctor just asked me to come in. There’s nothing more because I don’t know what more there is.” She sounded upset, almost defensive.

“What time is the appointment?” He swung around, pulled open his drawer, and grabbed a pen.

“In an hour.” She was curt.

He dropped the pen on his desk and slammed the drawer closed, then glanced at his watch again. It was just past nine. What time was the deposition? He had to think for a second. He could be in and out and make it back by eleven. He could do it. It would be cutting it close, but he could blow her off, too. He was better at that. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Samuel, you don’t have to meet me. I just wanted to let you know what’s going on. I can call you after—”

“Jill, I said I would meet you there.” He cut her off and glanced over at Erin, then down at his watch, hating to be under the gun like this. His job was important, his position with the firm, but he had made a commitment. The baby was important too, he had to remind himself again. This baby had him so twisted up that he didn’t know whether he was coming or going. “I’ve got to do a few things here, and then I’ll be there.”

She sighed. “Okay, I’ll meet you there.”

He held the phone, listening to the click when she hung up. The tense vibe lingered. He stared at the phone a second before hanging up, as well. He didn’t look over at Erin even though he could feel her watching him, studying him as if trying to figure out what to say to him.

“Your wife?” she finally asked.

“Yeah. She has to go to the doctor and make sure she and the baby are okay.” He put his hand on the file and slid it across the desk. “Look, I’ve gone through this, and I’m ready for the deposition. I’ll be back before the client gets here.”

Erin’s dark eyes widened to something that resembled panic. “What? No!”

Samuel slid back his chair and stepped around the desk. “I’ll be back in time.”

“No, wait. We still need to discuss this case before Mrs. Stowles arrives, and what if you don’t make it back? I’m not ready to take the lead. Remember, I’m the support only. What am I supposed to do? They’re coming at eleven. You don’t have time.” She was still sitting, but she had shot up straight as she slid around in the chair, watching as he slipped on his dark green suit jacket, which had come from the sale rack at the department store, and lifted his trench coat from the coat tree in the corner. His small office overlooked the bullpen of legal secretaries and clerks.

“We have nothing left to go over, so stop worrying. If they show up early, just make sure Mrs. Stowles doesn’t cross paths with her husband or his lawyer.” He strode back to his desk, grabbed his cell phone, and stuffed his iPad and all the documents he still needed to review in his tote, then lifted it over his shoulder.

“Samuel, I hope this doesn’t sound cold, because I really do want everything to be okay with your wife, but you’re a junior associate, and whether you believe it or not, I’m not vying for your job. This is a really big case for the firm, because Jessica Stowles brings in a lot of business. Remember the warning that came with her file: don’t screw up, and use kid gloves. She’s one of the firm’s cash cows, and if you screw it up, it won’t look good for you. Leaving me stuck if you don’t show is as good as screwing me, too, and I’ve worked too damn hard to get where I am to be left floundering. Do you get me? Sure, your wife is important, but so is your damn job and not screwing me and a client I’d rather not get stuck with.” Erin was now standing. This was the first time he’d ever seen her look the least bit worried.

“I told you I’ll be back—and for the record, Jill isn’t my wife.”

He didn’t wait for her shocked response before he left his office, stopping only at his secretary’s desk to let her know where he was going.

As Samuel walked out, he remembered the day that haunted him still, the day of his wedding, that afternoon two months earlier when his family hadn’t shown up and, with despair on her face as they stood before the justice of the peace to say their vows, the only thing that had come out of Jill’s mouth had been “I’m sorry.”