Still looking over her shoulder, a smile she reserves for Dean, gracing her perfect features. “Oh, I wouldn’t rule out any luck coming your way. You’re not ready right now, but soon.”
I’d love to have agreed with her, and confess I still held out hope for the perfect man to come in, and rescue me. Unlike the fairy tales Disney paints for us, my hero came in, rescued me, and then fell in love with my best friend. Not that I would want a relationship with Dylan, the opposite is actually true. Dylan is the kind of guy I could hang out with, catch a ball game, while telling dirty jokes. Any thoughts of romance would send me to the bathroom hurling into the toilet. At this point in my life, I’m pretty confident my ‘Mr. Perfect’ took the wrong train, and is happily married with three kids in the middle of Kansas.
Dean motioned for Priscilla to come and join him in her chair. I took this as my cue to speak with him about my sister. To thank him for expediting the process in getting her away from George.
“Mr. Morgan, I know I’ve asked an enormous favor of you by helping with the divorce, and I can never thank you enough.”
“Wait, you’re married!?” Austin’s outburst silenced the commotion of the others finding their seats. Dylan stood behind Claire’s chair, trying desperately to hide the humor he found in his brother’s reaction.
“No, Austin, her sister is.” Priscilla reached across the table, placing her hand over her son’s finger, which was pointed in my direction. Austin’s eyebrows relaxed. It’s a wonder they didn’t disappear into his hairline, his eyes flicking between his momma, and myself. “Dean assigned one of his aspiring paralegals to help with her case.”
Priscilla’s voice seemed so gentle; I wonder if she told them animated stories when they were little. How effective was her discipline with them. Her mild temperament seemed to be something three rugged boys would trample into the dirt.
“Who’s working the case?” Claire had shared with me how protective Dylan had become with her. She confessed she found it to be a double edged sword, incredibly arousing at the thought he wanted to protect her so fiercely, while completely infuriating when he assumed she couldn’t take care of herself. I could see what she meant. Dylan had assigned himself as my big brother, ready to fight the schoolyard bullies, who dared to pick on me.
“Preston has been one of the better men you’ve scared my way. He shows enough potential. I’ve given him this case, and have recommended him for the VanBuren scholarship.”
I had read about that in the newspaper, a scholarship created by Priscilla. A full ride to law school in honor of her father. At Dean’s mention of the scholarship, I noticed Priscilla’s eyes begin to fill with tears. Digging deep into my diversion file, I fired my next question at Austin.
“Austin, Claire tells me you once worked for Adams Lighthouse. What did you do over there?” I picked up a slice of bread the waitress left as we took our seats. The aroma making my stomach grumble.
Austin switched his posture, glancing briefly at his water glass. “She’s right, I worked on the Titan Project for the last few years.”
“As?”
His eyes flashed to mine, confusion leading his frown. “A code writer?” His words were drawn out, as if he were speaking with a small child instead of an educated woman. Fire began to stir in my belly from his condescending tone.
“Really? You write code for encrypted programs?” I knew he’d worked on the program, I’d just assumed he was an accountant or part of their legal team. Austin didn’t fit into the mold most code writers poured themselves into. The majority of members on my team wore sweater vests, and drove a Prius, not Levi’s and a Harley.
“Why does this surprise you? Do I not look smart enough to build a program?” The cocky bastard was correct, he did surprise me. Although, never did I assume he didn’t look smart enough to do anything.
“Before I answer your question, please, answer one of mine. What do you think I do for a living?” I asked, giving him a dose of his own medicine. I may not be a pageant winner, but I was no crypt keeper either.
Austin leaned back in his chair, the table remaining quiet, as he considered his answer. Claire nudged me under the table, anticipating his answer as much as I did. “I don’t know. Fold sweaters over at Macy’s?”
Like a bad taste in his mouth, his words landed on me full of insult and assumption. He wasn’t the first man to think me too pretty to have a brain, and with little doubt, he would not be the last. “Good guess, but no.”
Tilting my head in Claire’s direction, I watched both her and Dylan, vibrating with silent laughter. Extending my outstretched hand in his direction, with a lot of pride in my smugness, I reintroduced myself. “Lainie Perry, Senior Software Designer for Craven and Associates. Pleasure to meet you.”
Dylan let out a loud cackle, rivaled only by the howl coming from Dean. Poor Austin looked stunned, as if just being told Darth Vader wasn’t really Luke’s father.
“It’s all right, little brother. Claire can help you surgically remove that size eleven from your mouth.”
No relationship is ever a waste of time, If it didn’t bring you want you want, it showed you what you didn’t want.
~ Unknown
I couldn’t concentrate on the screens before me. I’d been studying the grainy photo Carson had sent me, before we took care of Cash. I needed to figure out who the girl was, and remove the seed of speculation I had about her identity. I was refusing to admit, even to myself, who the evidence was pointing to.
My mind kept flashing back to yesterday at lunch. I still had an issue believing Lainie did basically the same job I had back in New York. I’d never met a woman who could write code. Not to mention one so completely beautiful, and who could do anything except spend my money. I know how it sounded, but experience had formed that opinion.
When we walked into the restaurant, I had just gotten a text from Keena. She wanted to know if I could float her a loan until she found a new job. When I told her to ask her boyfriend, she texted back saying he’d thrown her out. I could have been a prick and told her to figure it out. Instead, I had a friend of mine get her a room in a hotel for a few days. I couldn’t just toss her away, and hope she landed on her feet.
Then Jessie Wagoner walked up like he owned the damn place. Showing his cocky assed smile to the one of the few girls in Charleston he hadn’t slept with. He had more bastard children running around the county than he could afford. Which was evident by the number of women who’d been to Daddy’s office to file for child support. Son of a bitch knew he was being investigated, and tried to close his bank accounts. Which I’d managed to freeze, before he could.
He tried acting like he didn’t know who we were, asking if we were with the Morgans. Motherfucker knew who I was. He got his ass stomped on the football field one too many times by either myself, or Chase back in the day. I won’t even touch on how many run-ins he had with Dylan. But I sure as shit jarred his memory when I wrapped my arm around Lainie. Sending his ass a clear fucking message, to back the fuck off.
Oh, Lainie Perry…that girl has spirit and gumption; her sweet smile hides her tough as shit interior. But her eyes, her eyes tell me she is harboring something. A dark secret she’s keeping, maybe even from herself. I must have looked at her for a good half hour after she told me she worked over at Craven. I’d considered calling Jackie up when I decided to move back home. It was more than just the no compete clause which kept me from picking up the phone. Just like Dylan, I needed a purpose. A fucking reason to endure the bullshit the world has waiting for us. Protect the ones who can’t fight for themselves. Deep inside, I felt as if Lainie were fighting one of those battles, something maybe I could help her win.
“Austin?”
Momma had phoned me after we left the restaurant, asking if she could borrow a few minutes of my time today. She knew better than to think she would be bothering me. The woman was a saint, saving me from the system, and a life I wouldn’t have survived.
“Hey,
Momma, come on in.” Standing for a lady was an automatic reflex Granddaddy had instilled in us. “Southern girls are taught in the womb to accept a chair from a gentleman. If you ain’t willin’ to do it, they will stand there until the right one does.” Growing up, we took turns offering Momma a chair. A time or two we would forget whose turn it was, and begin pushing and shoving each other. She had this sharp snap, and when we heard it, we knew it was our only warning. Heaven help you if you ever heard that snap in church. It didn’t matter if God was watching or not, your behind was about to get worn out.
“Momma.” I kissed her cheek, taking in the comforting scent of her perfume. Just like most of the lady’s in this town, Momma had a wardrobe of different fragrances. It seemed like a waste of money to me, as she’d worn the same scent every day of my life. Grasping her hand, I lead her over to one of the chairs facing my desk. She thanked me, as she always does, while I take the seat beside her
“Austin, I won’t take much of your time, I know you’re busy with all this.” Waving her hand around my room full of monitors. “But I need to speak with you about yesterday.” Her voice gave nothing away. No hint of disappointment about my reaction to Lainie, or my silence after learning the truth.
After Dylan offered Claire’s surgery skills, I chose to sit back, and listen. I learned a long time ago most people will tell you more than you want to know, if you just let them speak. Not everyone uses words to tell their story. Some, like Lainie, have terrible poker faces. Making slight facial expressions, as they listen to others speak.
Lainie had a deep love for her sister, Heidi. A love which outshined the affection I have for my entire family, which really said something. She smiled her perfect smile, as she asked Daddy to let her have the retainer bill for the divorce paperwork. Momma smiled with her own brand of pride, when he let her know he was giving her the family discount, which roughly meant this was pro-bono work. Lainie worried her brother-in-law would cause a ruckus when he was served, costing Heidi more time and money. Daddy had many offices across the country. He told her not to worry about anything.
When Miss Georgia and Carson arrived, poor Lainie was bombarded by red lipstick kisses, and complaints she looked too thin. Personally, I thought she looked pretty fucking perfect just the way she was. After he was seated, Carson leaned into Dylan, and whispered something. Just as we were about to order another round of drinks, Dylan sent me a text that Carson had just submitted his retirement letter. He would be joining our team full time by the end of the month.
“Austin, do you recall the trial your Daddy and Dylan were working on together when you first got here?” Priscilla Morgan was never one to drag out a conversation, and she was not one who believed in wasting anything precious- time and energy included.
“Yes, Ma’am.” I crossed my ankle over my knee, my boots had become my best friends again. Dressing in jeans and Ropers was a big no-no in the business world.
“Do you recall anything about it?”
“A young girl was attacked, roughed up pretty good, over at the college, right?” How could I forget? It had opened the hail storm building between myself and Chase. With him moving back close to home, I didn’t want to say too much until I could prove anything. I also wouldn’t bring Dylan into it unless I had to. Keeping the family together was much more important, than being right about anything. So I wasn’t too sure where Momma was going with this line of questioning.
“Yes, that’s the one. Do you remember anything about the young lady?” I was puzzled by her question. Honestly, I was too wrapped up in the rotten onion I’d found, with each layer smelling worse than the one before.
Another thing about southern women, which always seemed to drive me crazy, was the large purse they strapped over their arms. Complaining to the hilt when they couldn’t find the tube of lipstick at the bottom, or missing a call on their cell phone when they couldn’t find it. Priscilla Morgan was no different. She had a purse large enough to carry a twenty-pound baby, and the crib he slept in. Reaching into the leather monstrosity, she pulled out a large white document.
“I noticed your interest in Miss Lainie yesterday.” I was about to roll my eyes, and let her know I didn’t have time to pursue a girl right now. “Don’t think for one second you hid your staring from me, Austin William Morgan.” I cringed hearing my middle name leave her lips. Knowing it was never good to have all three names, and the stern tone her voice had changed to. “Believe me, I know you think like Dylan most of the time. Trying on a new girl for size whenever the notion hits ya.”
Since returning to Charleston, I have tried on a few girls for size. Enjoying the sweetness of the ladies round here. I made sure to tell them it was casual, no strings, and no commitments. I was also very careful. No unplanned, or unwanted children, running around for me.
“But the heart wants what the heart wants. Even if the timing ain’t right.” Placing the white pages on my desk, something told me I wouldn’t like what I found written on them. “Now, Austin, I love Lainie like I love Claire, and I would never betray her trust. That girl has been through a tough time, and is still dealing with the fallout from what happened. While I would never tell her story, not even to Jesus himself, those pages tell the story. They are also a matter of public record, and any Tom, Dick or Harry could walk down to the courthouse and read them. Before you invest yourself in sniffin’ after Lainie, take a good look at the story being told. If you can’t help the situation and be something good for her, then leave her alone.”
I knew by looking at Lainie she was changed by what had happened, that was expected. But as Momma left me to examine myself, and how I would move forward with the information she gave me, she left me with just one last piece of the puzzle.
“Austin, if you decide you want to see where this journey will take you, have lunch over at the coffee shop on King Street. The one with the outdoor patio. Tomorrow’s special is shrimp and grits. I know you haven’t had any since you’ve been back home.” Even if the skies opened up and poured solid sheets of rain, I would be sitting on that patio tomorrow afternoon, as if my life depended on it.
Dylan and Carson came into the office, just after I finished reading the court transcripts. Somehow the fire Dylan had when he dealt with Cash had now been ignited inside of me. I knew the story. Dylan had shared every detail with me; I just never thought I would have a hand in wanting all parties involved dealt with.
Carson looked worn out as he entered my office. Dylan sat with his boot covered feet on the corner of my desk, his cell phone in hand, and a grin on his face. “Sources tell me, you have been tasting some of the local honey.”
Not moving my eyes from my screen, as I installed a new program to help me figure out who the girl that picked up Cash from jail was. “Yeah, so?” Not giving Dylan the rise he wanted, since it was none of his business who I was ‘tasting’.
“Listen man, I ain’t your daddy, but this ain’t New York either. Some girls you can fuck and forget.” Dylan’s feet hit the floor. His eyes serious, and his tone leaving no room to blow him off. “And some girls you better fucking forget, if you ain’t serious.”
Abandoning the program, I eased back in my chair, meeting Dylan’s glare head on. My brothers and I have had our share of scrapes, bloody noses, cut lips, and a few broken ribs. We fight, smack each other around, and then hug it out. None of us have an issue when calling the other out on their shit.
“I take it you talked to Momma?”
“Nope. I talked to Claire, who talked to Lainie.”
I tried to act aloof at the mention of her name. Nothing had happened, with the exception of a decision on my part to see this through. Well that, and a few text messages cancelling several planned hook ups.
“Okay? They’re friends, what does that have to do with me?” I looked at both men with false contentment. A smoke screen I hoped would work.
Dylan leaned toward Carson, who leaned slightly toward him, his face revealing nothing, “Are you hearing th
is shit? Boy thinks he’s being cute.” A new edge wrapped around Dylan’s words, condescending, with a boost of protectiveness.
“See, Carson, my younger brother thinks he can sit down to dinner surrounded by beautiful women, one of which I love dearly by the way, and think for one second nobody saw him salivating over the only single girl at the doggone table.”
“Wait? Did I just hear correctly? You’re in love with the girl?” Dylan had never been in love with anything, other than sticking his dick in any girl who would let him. I would have sworn he was severely allergic to love and commitment. I knew he had changed, the second he had asked for my help in closing down the bridge. Claire was a good match for him, and from the little amount of time I’ve spent with her, I can see she fills in the gaps for him. Calms him where he is wild, and brings to life the parts of him, which may have tried to die from his past.
“Yes, you did. I love my Claire to death.” Dylan held nothing back, speaking with conviction, and honesty. He had discovered his feelings, processed them, and now bathed in their warmth. He’d also proven he was willing to go to any lengths to protect her. Even if it meant someone had to die.
“I love her enough to step in and say something when she’s frettin’ about her friend.” Yesterday, as we settled the check, the four of us practically wrestling over who would be paying for it. In the end, the waitress ended up getting a nearly four hundred dollar tip from our check, as well as, all the cash tossed on the table to cover the tab. Claire had dragged Lainie off to the bathroom, like girls often do.
“Claire noticed the way you were looking at Lainie, and it worried her. She asked Lainie if she was interested in you, or if she needed to be sitting here instead of the two of us.” The smart thing would have been to act as if I didn’t care. Pretending as if the safety of the free world did not depend on the answer to Claire’s question. But when it comes to Lainie, apparently I was stuck on stupid.
Absolute Corruption: Southern Justice Trilogy Page 6