Destiny: A Fantasy Collection

by Rachelle Mills

  A very large part of her wanted to throw a shoe at him. Then she’d throw her other shoe at Henry, if he ever bothered to show up. Emma knew literally nothing about Wendell. Not where he lived, not where he worked, not if he had any prior arrests. She hadn’t thought to ask him for any background information while they were waiting for his name to be called. Apparently assuming Henry would be here to do his job had been a huge mistake.

  Emma wanted to open her mouth to yell, “Objection!” in her most self-righteous voice, but she didn’t have any standing to do so, and it would only make her look like an overzealous rookie. There actually wasn’t much she could do since the judge had to direct all her questions to the defendant. Wendell’s answers turned out to be a mixed bag.

  The good: He’d lived in Tucson for over thirty years. He was a plumber. Never failed to appear to court before. Was currently living with friends and working on improving himself through veganism and yoga.

  The bad: He’d been arrested before for a DUI, drug paraphernalia, and aggravated assault.

  The judge fell silent as she mulled over the issue, and a smarmy grin split the prosecutor’s face like he was doing his best to become a caricature of himself. She heard the door swing open at the back of the courtroom and glanced behind her to find Henry finally gracing them with his presence.

  His mouth hung open in the picture of disconcertion. She shook her head. The guy should’ve shown up earlier if he’d wanted to stand at the lectern. Not wanting to draw attention to herself by sending glares his way, she focused on the judge, who continued to ponder in silence.

  Emma’s patience finally wore out.

  “Oh for crying out loud—he’s a yogi!”

  The judge’s gaze shot over to her. “I beg your pardon, Ms. Parker?”

  Wendell looked like he wanted to shove a sock in Emma’s mouth. Whatever. If she was on the record as his attorney for this hearing, she had to at least give it a shot.

  “Your Honor, Mr. Davies has a record, yes, but as he informed you, he’s never failed to appear. By devoting himself to veganism and yoga, he’s clearly trying. Putting him in jail will only derail his efforts. Furthermore, given the arrest rate in this county—”

  Emma drew a breath to keep going, but the judge held up a hand. “Ms. Parker, please spare me your philosophies on jail overcrowding.”

  Clasping her hands in front of her, Emma snapped her mouth shut and waited for the judge to make a decision. The judge flipped through some papers in front of her, looked over her glasses at Wendell, then glanced back at the papers. Emma gave Wendell a hopeful smile, but he merely scowled in response. Damn, his eyes were green. Eerily so. The courtroom’s sterile fluorescent lights must have been doing weird things to her vision.

  Finally, the judge said, “Mr. Davies, please don’t abuse your freedom. Stay out of trouble and focus on your third eye or what have you.”

  The prosecutor’s sour look was only a blip on Emma’s radar as triumph soared through her veins. She knew it was a dumb bond issue and her argument had been far from sophisticated, but it felt like she’d won a case in front of the Supreme Court. Between moving and the job search, she’d started to wonder if her interest in criminal defense had been a fever dream. But no, there had been no mistake—she’d missed this.

  ***

  Henry wanted to bang his head against the dark wood of the door. He was spinning plates, and despite his best efforts, the fine porcelain kept flying off their sticks and hitting people in the face before shattering on the floor. Emma sauntered toward him with a sardonic smile on her face. Wendell walked beside her, glaring at Henry. Sighing, he reopened the courtroom door and followed them out into the hallway.

  Several emotions fought for dominance: frustration that he still hadn’t been able to resolve the issue with Sofia. Embarrassment that he hadn’t kept his word to Emma and Wendell. And gratitude for this woman who had known him for all of five minutes but had stepped up to look out for his client anyway. Who was she? Who did she work for?

  Emma was a few yards ahead of him and Wendell, her pace a fast clip toward the elevators. She was presumably distancing herself from the entire absurd situation. He slung the strap of his briefcase across his chest and hurried after her.

  “Emma, wait,” he said when he caught up.

  Pressing the down button for the elevator, she waved him off. “Henry, it’s fine.” She gestured toward his client. “Wendell got through the arraignment without issue, so you can see what you can do for him during discovery. The deputy county attorney seemed like kind of a tool, but maybe you can negotiate a decent plea deal.”

  “I’m sorry. They weren’t letting my other client out of jail even though the case was dismissed. She has a funeral she needs to go to today.”

  Her gaze softened, but she waved him off again. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “You handled it well.” He quirked his lips in what he hoped was an encouraging smile.

  “He’s right,” Wendell said. “Didn’t appreciate you calling me a yogi like I own a combination yoga studio and kombucha shop or somethin’, but you made sure that dick didn’t stick me in jail.” Scratching the back of his neck, he added, “And this stuff is scary, so it was good to have someone there.”

  It was hard to believe the werewolf could find anything scary, but the threat of discovery was nothing to sneeze at. Henry relaxed his shoulders a little. Wendell would give him hell later, but at least he was satisfied for now.

  Emma beamed at Wendell. “Happy to help.”

  The elevator arrived with a ding, and the brushed-steel doors reluctantly slid open. Henry clenched the strap of his briefcase. He couldn’t let her leave yet, but he also didn’t want to brush the werewolf off and risk provoking him.

  Focusing his attention on Wendell, he said, “Why don’t you call Rick to see what my schedule looks like? Come by my office today or tomorrow so we can discuss our next steps.”

  Wendell saluted them with one finger. “Will do.” The doors started to close, but he waved his hand in front of the sensors and stepped into the elevator.

  Emma gave Wendell a sidelong glance as she followed him inside. “You sure you still want him as your lawyer?”

  Wendell clasped his hands in front of him and sighed. “Lawyers are cocksuckers, but Henry’s who I trust,” he said simply.

  Emma laughed. The sound was open and guileless. Not musical, but fun. It stunned the hell out of Henry. His earlier assessment of her had been perfunctory, purely to determine if she could be an asset. But he realized now that she had soft features, rich brown hair, and round brown eyes…and was a mortal.

  A little over a century ago, he would’ve used the word “comely” to describe her. His skin warmed, feeling awkward for looking at her in that light. Dating and sex were things he’d left behind several years ago. It hadn’t been on purpose, but the whole scene was exhausting. Work had competed for and won his attention instead. Time had quietly slipped by, as it always did. Yet now he knew she was beautiful, and he had no idea what to do with that piece of information.

  Ignore it.

  Henry slapped his palm against the inside of the elevator’s doorway to keep it open. “Actually, can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked her, shaking off his bizarre feelings.

  Her gaze was wary, but to his relief, she nodded. “Sure.” Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she stepped off the elevator. “Nice meeting you, Wendell.”

  He shot Henry a wide-eyed, knowing look that clearly said, Oh really, now? Henry scowled at the man as the doors finally slid shut. He didn’t need implications from a client right now. Besides, it was simply business. He needed to know if she could be useful to him, not if she was interested in a date.

  But apparently he’d waited too long to talk, because she sighed at him. “Really, Henry. It’s fine. You don’t owe me lunch or anything. I hope the rest of your day is less hectic.” To his dismay, she pressed the elevator call button again. “Honestly, unless yo
u know where I can find a job, I need to get going.”

  His jaw dropped. “I do,” he blurted. “I know where you can find one of those.”

  Emma assessed him, looking as flabbergasted as he felt. “I…what? With who?”

  He grinned at her, feeling cheerful for the first time all day—hell, all month. Mortal or not, she was what he needed.

  “Me.”

  ***

  “I beg your pardon?” Emma asked, her voice hollow.

  She already knew his smile was captivating, but the man had the gall to grin at her. And it was downright dashing. How the hell was she supposed to concentrate on anything he had to say when he was looking at her like that? Especially considering he’d just dropped the bombshell that he was hiring. As he led her away from the elevators so they wouldn’t block foot traffic, she was still stunned.

  “Since you seem a bit flummoxed,” he continued, “I’ll explain. You are a lawyer. I am also a lawyer who does law things. I don’t know what kind of law things you do, but I need a criminal defense associate. Badly.”

  A tingle of awareness ran across her skin. Why did he have to say the last word like it was a dark, heated promise? Stop it. Willing herself not to let him distract her, she mentally steeled herself for this bizarre turn of events. Henry scratched his brow. “You see, I normally do general practice transactional work, so I’m comfortable doing what I do—which is working with paper, not people.”

  A bemused smile tugged at her lips. That was one hell of a motto. “Then what are you doing here this fine morning?”

  “I don’t go looking for trouble. Trouble gets arrested and then finds me. The advantage is the money trouble pays, but I’m in over my head.”

  Her heartbeat sped up. Trouble plus money equaled a job for Emma.

  “Understandable. New to the game?” This was all super promising, but she had to be careful of what she might be jumping into. She didn’t want to get stuck in a poorly managed firm with a newbie.

  Henry shook his head. “Ten years.”

  No way. “Ten years? When did you finish law school?”

  “Trust me, I’m older than I look.” He smirked.

  She narrowed her eyes at him, skeptical. Good skin or not…how old could he possibly be? If he was over thirty-five—and that was being generous—she would need to get the name of the moisturizer he used. The only person she’d known with skin that good was her grandmother.

  “I guess you’ve taken a page out of Elizabeth Báthory’s book, bathing in virgins’ blood or something,” she teased.

  He rolled his eyes, and she tried not to laugh. “I assure you,” he said, “I’m nothing like that entitled wretch.”

  He must be some history buff if he could sound like he’d met the woman. Curiosity won out over any sense of decorum. “No really, what brand of BB cream do you use?”

  Henry opened and closed his mouth, apparently reluctant to reveal his secret. No matter—she’d get it out of him eventually. For now, she needed to chase down this lead.

  With her eyes on the prize, Emma opened her bag and removed a folder. If this wasn’t a preparation meeting opportunity, she didn’t know what was. She slipped a copy of a resume out of the folder and shoved it under his nose.

  Confidence surged through her. “Anyway, you’re in luck. Criminal defense things are exactly the kind of law things I want to be doing.”

  Henry’s lips twitched before he began scanning her resume. “Glad to hear it.”

  As he read, Emma had to resist the urge to snatch it from him. This was all happening so fast. Maybe she’d been too hasty. What if there were typos she’d missed? What if it was terrible? Or worse, boring? She was so tired of being boring.

  No. Now was not the time for negative thinking. The man for whom God had created suits might have a decent opportunity. All she had to do was show him she was worth his time. She wasn’t an Ivy League pony, but her experience was nothing to sneeze at, either. U of A’s law school was ranked in the top fifty, and her grades had been good enough to break into Big Law. Two years in products liability at Keith and Heller had made her want to stab herself in the eye with a sharpened chopstick, but at least it was a shiny gold feather in her cap.

  After a few moments, Henry stopped reading and looked at her, his eyes a sharp blue. “Nice font choice,” he murmured.

  “Garamond is where it’s at. What do you take me for, a Baskerville girl?” she said then cringed mentally. Christ, who makes font jokes?

  “Of course not,” he said.

  Amusement glinted in his eyes, but alarm shot through Emma, cold and swift, when his fingers hovered over the clasp on his bag. No way was she going to let him tuck her resume into his leather briefcase and forget about her.

  Deftly switching gears, she said, “There’s a coffee shop nearby if you want to talk about this more.”

  He winced and pointed to his face. “I don’t want to aggravate this any more than I have to.”

  Emma frowned when she realized the sunburn seemed to be doing a lot better. When she’d first laid eyes on him, he’d looked like an annoyed steamed crab. Now the burn had faded to a rosy pink. She shrugged off the thought. The hallway’s cool fluorescent lights probably made the burn seem better than it was.

  “Fancy a walk and talk instead?” he suggested.

  She bounced a little on the balls of her feet. “I haven’t done one of those in ages. They make me feel wildly important.”

  “Onward, then…” Henry glanced at her resume for confirmation then back at her. “Ms. Parker.”

  Emma set a relaxed pace, her low heels clicking against the tile. She figured she had one loop around this floor to make a solid impression, so she didn’t want to rush through it. They were silent a moment as they walked.

  Finally, Henry rolled up her resume and tapped it against his open palm. “Sorry, but I need to ask the obvious question.”

  Part of her hoped he would start with the standard job interview question: “Can you take me through your resume and tell me about yourself?” It was a boring way to open an interview, but at least she knew how to handle it.

  Staying calm, she asked, “Which is?”

  He swung his head toward her. “You don’t have a clue?”

  “What gave you the impression I was a mind reader?”

  He chuckled. “Well, you did a little flip-flopping. Your 1L summer internship was with Keith and Heller, but your second-year internship was with the Maricopa County Public Defender. After graduating, you went back to Big Law, but now you’re knocking on my door looking for criminal defense work. What gives?”

  Emma lifted a finger. “I beg your pardon. You’re the one who came running after me out of the courtroom.”

  “Objection! Non-responsive.”

  She scratched her temple. Other firms had asked her the same question. What made her nervous was those firms hadn’t hired her. Still, Henry had laid his cards out on the table for her earlier. She should do the same. “In school, I loved criminal law, but I was good at corporate crap. The practical side of me won out.”

  “Not forever, though,” he pointed out. “What made you leave the prestigious bosom of Keith and Heller?”

  Emma swallowed. The answer was simple but ridiculous. “Exploding desk lamps.”

  He quirked an eyebrow up at her.

  “I did a great job on a lawsuit for a manufacturer that made faulty desk lamps. Sometimes they exploded in people’s faces.”

  A frown crossed his face. “A regular Joan of Arc, you were.”

  Emma tugged at a bottom edge of her blazer that didn’t need to be tugged. “Believe me, I’m not proud of it. I enjoyed the research, but I couldn’t keep doing well with those kinds of cases. Watching the first chair on my team crush grieving families in conference room depositions over and over got to me. I was tired of feeling guilty and wanted to go back to something I cared about.”

  All true, but disappointment slipped into her chest when he didn’t respond wi
th any emotional reaction. No sad smile or understanding nod. Perfect neutrality. She had to show him she wasn’t a corporate slime ball.

  “Fair,” he continued, “but why would you want to defend a criminal? Especially roughnecks who are actually guilty.” He paused their walk to set down his bag and lean against a wall near a courtroom.

  Emma groaned but followed his lead and rested her back against the wall beside him. “That story’s not for sharing with a potential employer.” She stared at the opposite wall and tried to keep a straight face.

  “Then I definitely won’t let that question go,” he said, his tone bright with mischief.

  “Fine.” Heartened by the return of his good humor, Emma huffed a breath in exaggerated resignation. “I loved courtroom dramas growing up. I lived for reruns of Law & Order and L.A. Law. You name the show, and I watched it.” Embarrassing, but the truth.

  “That’s a terrible reason to be a lawyer!” he cried.

  They looked at each other a long moment before dissolving into laughter.

  Emma pressed her fingers to her temples. “I know, it really is. I promise I’m not completely ridiculous, though. When I finally took criminal law and later got the internship with the Maricopa PD, I saw how the courts routinely failed people, guilty or not. It’s systemic. The focus is on punishment instead of rehabilitation. At least defense attorneys do what they can to get them a fair shake.”

  “Quite the idealist, aren’t you?” He nudged her shoulder.

  The gesture was innocuous, friendly even, but it still managed to make her breathing falter. If he hired her, how was she supposed to work with him for at least eight hours a day without getting distracted by him and his suit collection? She gritted her teeth. Hold on to some of your dignity, will you? He’s a man with a penis. No need to fall to pieces.

  She had to stay focused. His firm might be tiny, but if it was doing well enough to hire an associate, the pay couldn’t be horrible. It could make for a nice lily pad before she jumped into a better position somewhere else down the line. Nice suits or not, he would be lucky to have her.