Out Of Order

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Out Of Order Page 13

by Barbara Dunlop


  “I wish to tell the truth,” said Shelby.

  Dallas came partway out of his seat.

  “Very well,” said the judge. “Tell the truth.”

  Dallas sat back down, and Shelby refused to meet his eyes. Instead, she glared pointedly at Shuster. “Can I speak without him interrupting me?”

  “You may,” said the judge.

  “Good.” Shelby squared her shoulders. Her gaze rested on Gerry at the defense table for a moment. You’d think the man would be embarrassed at trying to blame her for his crimes. But he stared impassively back. She guessed all was fair in larceny and theft.

  “I didn’t know my former boss was engaged in anything illegal,” she began, taking in the entire courtroom as she spoke.

  “Yes, I knew he gambled, but I only knew he bet on horse races, which is perfectly legal. I never called his bookie, and I don’t know his bookie’s name, because I didn’t know he had a bookie. Yes, I slept with him. We were both consenting adults at the time, and we certainly didn’t engage in anything illegal in the bedroom. In fact, our sex life was pretty boring.”

  Shelby took a breath. “I’m not some partner in crime who’s helping her bosses pull off felonies. Apparently, they’re doing that all by themselves.

  “I buy my designer clothes at warehouse outlets, my jewelry is cubic zirconia, and I’m currently living with a friend while I try to get on my feet financially. If Neil broke the law, I didn’t know about it. If Gerry broke the law, I didn’t know about it. I worked at Game-O-Rama for less than a week, selling game tokens and cleaning up spilled popcorn. Believe me, nobody was more surprised than me to get arrested for it—”

  “Your Honor,” Shuster protested.

  Shelby glanced at the judge in time to see him cover a smirk.

  Then he quickly cleared his expression. “Any further questions, Mr. Shuster?”

  Shuster hesitated for a moment. “Nothing further,” he mumbled.

  “Mr. Simpson?” The judge addressed the prosecuting attorney.

  He stood up. “I think she’s about covered it.”

  The judge turned to Shelby. “The witness may step down.”

  Shelby breathed a chopped sigh of satisfaction, and stepped out of the witness stand. She presumed she was free to leave the courtroom, so she headed between the attorney’s tables and opened the mini gate.

  Dallas fell into step beside her, muttering under his breath. “You’ve got horseshoes stuffed firmly—”

  “I’ll have you know that was skill not luck,” she muttered back.

  Dallas pushed open the courtroom door. “Ha. I’ll have you know he was leading you down the garden path.”

  They passed into the foyer, where the clicking of a dozen heels echoed against the high ceiling, and a stained glass mural at one end of the corridor made a dappled pattern on the polished floor.

  “And I recognized the garden path,” she pointed out. “And got myself out of there.”

  Dallas pushed open the heavy main door and they crossed onto the wide concrete steps. Heel clicks were replaced by horn honks and the sounds of engines revving along Barkley Street.

  “If the judge hadn’t been sympathetic, Shuster would have backed you into a corner you couldn’t escape from. I want you to promise me you will never do that again without letting me talk you through your testimony. What the hell was Simpson thinking, bringing you in cold?”

  Shelby started down the wide, semicircular staircase. “You know Mr. Simpson?”

  “No. And I don’t particularly want to, either.”

  “He did object on your behalf.”

  “He should have thought of it himself. I practically had to light a fire under his butt.”

  “That would have been entertaining.”

  Dallas took a right when they came to the sidewalk. “Remember, only fifty percent of lawyers graduated in the top half of their class.”

  Shelby followed his lead, presuming he’d brought his car. “Did you?”

  “You bet.”

  She shifted a little closer to his side as the crowd thickened. “You know, you’re kind of sweet when you get all protective.”

  “I’m not protective and I’m not sweet. I’m pissed. I’m pissed at you, and I’m pissed at Simpson. That could have been a complete and total disaster.”

  “But it wasn’t.”

  Dallas took a deep breath. “No, it wasn’t.”

  “The truth won out.”

  Dallas stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk, turning to face her with a grave expression, forcing the stream of pedestrians to part and go around them. “A smart lawyer in the audience won out.”

  She couldn’t help the grin that crept over her face. “You’re so humble.”

  “I’m not trying to massage my ego, I’m trying to warn you about messing around with the law without proper advice.”

  “Forgive me if my memory is failing, but it seems to me I did all the talking.”

  “Yeah? Well, I gave you the opening. And you wouldn’t have had to do all that talking if we’d planned your testimony in advance.”

  Shelby threw up her hands. “Fine. You’re brilliant and I’m hopeless.”

  The corner of Dallas’s mouth twitched. “At least we’ve got that straight.”

  He turned and they started walking again.

  “You have to admit,” she said, “once I got rolling, I was pretty good.”

  Dallas didn’t answer, and when she glanced up, he had a distracted look in his eyes. “So, was your sex life with Neil really boring?”

  “I swore on a bible to tell the truth up there.”

  “You ever going to say that about me on a witness stand?”

  Shelby let him wait for a minute before she drawled out her answer. “I think under those circumstances, I’d have to take the fifth.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Teach you to fish for compliments.”

  DALLAS WANTED TO FISH for a whole lot more than compliments from Shelby.

  For the third day in a row, she sat cross-legged on his office floor, surrounded by piles of papers and open boxes of Perth-Abercrombie evidence. She was wearing teal-blue leather pants and a matching cropped jacket decorated with silver rivets. From his angle, standing up, it was obvious she wore nothing but a lace bra beneath. And, yes, her navel was showing.

  Dallas sucked in a breath as he picked up a file from his desktop, trying to tamp down the buzz of sexual desire that had become his constant companion. It was impossible to get used to working with a goddess—especially one that crawled around on his floor and flashed her bright smile every thirty seconds or so.

  Like now.

  She tipped her head and grinned up at him. “How was the meeting?”

  “Eamon is anxious to get to the hearing and get this over with. The publicity is hurting business. You know, if he ever walks in here, I’m going to have one hell of a time explaining what you’re doing.”

  “Think he remembers me from the party?”

  “Oh, he remembers you all right.” In fact, Eamon had offered to introduce Dallas to a few eligible women from his own social circle—instead of his daughter’s.

  Dallas’s phone rang, and he reached across the desk to pick it up.

  “Hello?”

  “Dallas? It’s Allison. Is Shelby handy?”

  Dallas closed his eyes for a split second, then he held the receiver out to Shelby. “It’s for you.”

  She jumped to her feet, not looking the least bit surprised to be receiving calls on his line.

  He held his hand over the mouthpiece. “Next time you fix my partner’s love life, can you do something that won’t keep him away from the office indefinitely?”

  “He’s only been back in Chicago for three days,” said Shelby. “Three days isn’t too much to ask for a happily-ever-after.”

  Dallas snorted his disgust. It had been closer to four days. It was ten o’clock Friday morning, and there was no sign of Greg. He sure hoped Greg and A
llison were having a whole lot of fun at the Starview Bed-and-Breakfast, because he was working his butt off back here, staring at Shelby for far too many hours each day.

  Shelby took the receiver from his hand. “Hello?”

  She grinned broadly, her eyes sparking with lime-green delight. “Things still going good up there?”

  She paused. “You mean, he’s run out of steam already?”

  A wider grin. “Oh. Okay then.”

  “You are?”

  “Really?”

  She stared up at Dallas, looking like she had just won the lottery. “That’s fantastic news!”

  “Is Greg coming back?” asked Dallas hopefully.

  Shelby put her hand on his chest.

  He wasn’t sure whether that was to shut him up, or just to torture him. Either way, he was enough of a masochist to shut up, stay still, and leave her hand just where it was.

  “Absolutely,” said Shelby, unconsciously rubbing his chest. “I’d love to help.”

  Dallas resisted the urge to wrap his hand around hers.

  “Great,” said Shelby. “See you tonight. Bye.”

  She leaned across Dallas to hang up the phone, dropping her hand.

  He remembered to breathe.

  “They’re getting married,” she squealed.

  “We already knew that,” Dallas pointed out. “Is Greg coming to the office today?”

  “Next weekend.”

  “He’s not coming in until next weekend?”

  Shelby rolled her eyes. “They’re getting married next weekend. Friday night. They’ve set a date, and they’re getting married in seven days.”

  He was losing Greg again in seven days? “They’re not planning a long honeymoon, are they?”

  Shelby pushed against Dallas’s chest. This time he did capture her hand.

  “Don’t be such a bear.”

  He hung on tight. “I’m the one looking after his case-load.”

  “Well, Allison says they’re coming home today. I’m sure he’ll be in the office next week.”

  Thank goodness for that. The Perth-Abercrombie hearing was set for next Friday morning, and Dallas needed to be able to focus on it.

  “I’m going to help Allison find a dress,” said Shelby, nearly dancing with delight. “And I’m going to be the maid of honor. The wedding will be small, just fifty or so.” She paused for a breath and stared up into Dallas’s eyes. “I can’t believe how well those pictures worked.”

  The memory of the pictures brought back a memory of Shelby’s striptease, which brought back memories of making love, which reminded him that he was slowly going insane.

  “Shelby?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You sure we can’t have an affair?”

  She glanced away. It might have been his imagination, but her voice sounded overbright. “Who’s got time for an affair? I’ve got a wedding to plan.”

  “You want to help me plan the bachelor party?” Dallas figured she’d do a way better job.

  “You’re the best man?”

  He nodded.

  She laughed. “Well, if we can’t make love, at least we get to dance at the wedding.”

  He shifted a little closer. “I have a feeling it won’t be quite the same.”

  “Dallas,” she sighed.

  “I want you.”

  “We can’t.”

  “Right now.”

  “Oh, sure. We’ll just lock the door and get it on on your desk.”

  “We could,” he pointed out, feeling just insane enough to do it.

  “Get real.”

  “What about tonight?”

  “I’m going wedding dress shopping tonight.”

  “Stores close at nine.”

  She stared at him with genuine regret. “I wish I could, Dallas. Really I do.”

  He leaned in. “You can.”

  “I have to be strong.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  She grinned. “And you call me incorrigible.”

  “Oh, yeah. Seems to me I owe you a spanking. Turn around and bend over.”

  “If your clients could hear you now, they’d have a heart attack.”

  “And drop your pants.”

  “Yeah. Like that’s gonna happen.”

  Dallas grinned. “And you call me staid and conservative.”

  “Not anymore.”

  He grunted. “At least that’s progress.”

  She slipped her hand from beneath his and pointed to her watch. “You’re late for your meeting.”

  He knew that. But, God help him, he didn’t want to leave. And not just because he wanted to make love. Because he wanted to tease her, challenge her, and have her challenge him right back. In fact, he probably would have been disappointed if she’d caved right away.

  Okay, so that was a lie. He’d have loved it if she’d caved.

  She circled behind him and pushed against his back. “Go. Before Margaret makes any more assumptions about us.”

  “Wish Margaret was right,” he muttered.

  “Have a nice meeting.”

  “Greg gets to have all the fun.”

  11

  “YOU LOOK STUNNING,” said Shelby as Allison pirouetted on the small dais in front of a mirrored wall in the bridal shop. The dress was champagne in color, with a strapless, cotton-eyelet bodice, and a full, calf-length skirt of silk organza. A wide satin ribbon emphasized her waist, and she practically floated when she walked.

  “At least it doesn’t have a twenty-foot train,” said Allison.

  Shelby walked around the side to look from a different angle. Allison didn’t want to go too formal, and the dresses they’d looked at last night were all over the top.

  “If we put your hair up,” said Shelby, “and weave in a few flowers, it’ll be perfect. It’s bridal, yet not fru-fru or fairy princess.”

  “What do you want to wear?” asked Allison.

  “We have a matching bridesmaid dress,” said the attendant. “Dusty-rose, or jewel-blue. The skirt’s not as full, and the bodice matches.”

  “Is this the one?” Shelby asked Allison.

  Allison grinned. “I think so.”

  “Dusty-rose,” said Shelby. “I don’t want to outshine the bride.”

  The attendant headed across the shop to a long rack of colored dresses, while Shelby and Allison grinned stupidly at each other.

  “I’m getting married,” Allison whispered.

  “You sure are,” said Shelby.

  “It was fantastic,” said Allison.

  “Greg or the B and B?”

  “Greg, the B and B, everything.”

  “As your maid of honor, I feel duty-bound to say ‘I told you so.”’

  “You sure did,” said Allison. “And you went way above and beyond the call of duty. Think I’d better pay for your dress.”

  “Oh, no, you don’t.”

  “Okay. We’ll let Greg pay for it.”

  Shelby grinned. “Deal.”

  “Speaking of above and beyond…You go above and beyond with Dallas while I was away?”

  “He’s my boss.” Not to say she hadn’t been tempted. More tempted than she’d ever thought possible. It was embarrassing, but even his “turn around and bend over” line had turned her on. Which was pathetic, since she wasn’t a turn-around-and-bend-over kind of girl.

  “I take it that’s a no?”

  “Yes, it’s a no. I’ve sworn off bosses, remember?”

  “You made one exception.”

  “That was in the line of duty.”

  “But you wanted to do it again, right?”

  Shelby hesitated, not sure if confessing to Allison would make things worse or better. Right now she was a walking case of hormones. She was Eve, and Dallas was the forbidden fruit.

  “You’re blushing,” Allison laughed. “That is so definitely a yes.”

  “Shouldn’t we be talking about you?” asked Shelby. “This is your wedding.”

  Allison waved a dismissi
ve hand. “We figured my relationship out last week. Now it’s your turn.”

  “It’s hardly the same thing.”

  Allison twisted one way, and then the other, letting the gorgeous full skirt swirl around her legs. “You know, vowing never to sleep with your boss is like vowing never to sleep with red-headed men.”

  “Red-headed men can’t fire me.”

  “Dallas isn’t going to fire you. What I mean is, each case should be taken on its merits.”

  “You mean, how great it would be to get laid, versus how awful it would be to get fired.”

  “Exactly.” Allison grinned and waggled her eyebrows. “You can always get another job.”

  The attendant returned with the dusty-rose bridesmaid dress draped over one arm. “It’s a size four,” she said. “Sound about right?”

  Shelby took the dress. “Sounds right. Thanks.”

  “I’ll wait here,” said Allison, still gazing at herself in the huge mirror. The distracted glow in her eyes said the dress was right.

  Shelby ducked into the changing room and slipped out of her clothes.

  In her opinion, it would feel pretty darned crappy to get fired. Especially from her first real job. Especially when she’d just been given some extra responsibility on the Perth-Abercrombie case.

  For the first time in her life, she felt like she had a professional future. And Dallas was a great boss, as long as she ignored her sexual yearnings.

  Of course, everything would go to hell if they had a fling and broke up. Then there’d be tension, probably animosity. Even if he was comfortable working with an ex, she knew she’d never be.

  She pulled the bridesmaid dress over her head, and reached back to do up the zipper. The fit was good. The dress was pretty, but it was understated enough to keep her in the background. Which was exactly what she wanted.

  She opened the change room door.

  “What do you think?” She moved next to Allison in front of the mirror so they could see the effect of the dresses side by side.

  “Style suits me a bit better, I think,” said Allison.

  “That’s what we want,” said Shelby. “If we play up your jewelry and hair, and play mine down—”

  Allison frowned. “I want you to look pretty.”

  Shelby spread her arms. “Hey, I’m not exactly a dog in this.”

 

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