Almost Forgotten (Contemporary Erotic Romance) (The Broken Men Chronicles Book 2)

by Carey Decevito

  “I was going to say an old friend but...” She averted her eyes. I knew I hit a nerve. She looked sad but old bitterness had come seeping up from my emotional depths and I couldn’t help myself.

  “But what? We’re not friends, Danica.” I twisted the knife in a little deeper. “Sure, there was a time where I carried a torch for you but don’t think that after the way you left me, that friendship would be on the table.”

  Call me bitter, call me cynical. I’ll be the first to admit that I was both. Okay… maybe a bit more on the bitterness spectrum but can you blame me? The woman shattered me when she left without a proper explanation.

  “I see,” she whispered. “I’ll leave you alone, then.” She made to get up but my body had other ideas. I latched onto her wrist before she could get away. I could feel her pulse racing as my thumb rubbed the junction between her arm and hand.

  “Why?”

  “Why what?” she asked, looking like she was fighting some emotion I couldn’t quite make out.

  “No phone call? No email? Nothing but some vague letter,” I said.

  “I couldn’t,” she said and never elaborated. I studied her face, my hand loosening its grip. “Goodbye, Jacob. I’ll see you in court on Wednesday.”

  Pulling her wrist out of my grip, she walked away. She made a quick stop at the bar where the waiter grabbed a slew of bags and handed them over to her. After she paid the man, she handled the bags and left without a backward glance.

  “Here you go,” I heard, knocking me out of my daze. I looked up to find Ben, the owner and a good friend of mine.

  “Thanks, man,” I said, reaching for one of the fries. I no longer had much of an appetite.

  “You saw her, huh?” he asked. I gave him a small nod in response. “Still hung up on her?”

  “Hell no!” I said louder than I intended. The patrons sitting at the nearest table turned their attention toward us. Ben thought it comical, as he gave me a single pat on the back and took a seat on the edge of the bench across from me. I didn’t miss his sympathetic look.

  “Sure doesn’t sound like it. It didn’t look like it either,” he said. “You know that her move here is permanent, right?”

  I stared at Ben and wondered aloud, “How much do you know about her?”

  “A lot. Mike, her brother, and I are still tight,” he began. “Their Dad hasn’t been doing well. He’s been sick with cancer but I think I heard something about him being in remission now.” I nodded to that piece of information. “He left the company to be managed by that idiot husband of hers. There was talk about him selling his shares to the guy and all, or something like that… I don’t know. Anyway, I think he thought he was doing the company some good but it backfired. Turns out that Dani’s hubby was embezzling...”

  Fuck me! “Let me guess,” I began, “now that they’re getting divorced, he wants her part of the company as part of the settlement because he’s so broke that he needs to sell the damn thing in order to regain his losses?”

  Ben nodded. “That’s what Mike thinks. How’d you know?”

  I felt rage surfacing. I spoke to Spalding, this afternoon. Wanting to know more about his background, it was clear that the man had omitted some crucial pieces of information; information that would make a difference in court and a judge’s ruling.

  “Because I represent the son of a bitch,” I said.

  I wondered if Brent was aware of what I had just now discovered through Ben.

  Distracted by my thoughts, I never noticed Ben’s look of shock.

  Chapter 6

  After my run-in with Danica and talk with Ben, I headed home. Finding myself at my desk, I searched for whatever it was that I could find on Bruce Spalding. It was time that I educated myself further on my own client. Seems like Mr. Spalding was keeping a few skeletons in his closet.

  It was as I suspected.

  The man’s track record started off clean as a whistle. A very bright and clever entrepreneur, self-made millionaire with his business trades. It was no wonder he was good at what he did. Up until eleven months ago that is.

  I was sifting through his many quarterly financial reports and noticed that things fell into a progressive decline as time went on, and fast. In an eight month timeframe, he’d sold off three-quarters of his umbrella companies and it looked like he was attempting to liquidate the remainder. What was odd was that he was also trying to acquire other companies at the same time.

  Where Withers International was concerned, things were trickier for Spalding, as Danica, her brother and her father owned a third each of the company.

  I smirked. Maybe daddy was smart after all.

  I also found a trail of paperwork detailing the transfer of Danica’s father’s portion to Spalding. It had yet to be signed and notarized but it did exist. My guess was that Withers put everything to a halt the minute he found out that his son-in-law wasn’t being up front with him.

  The more I looked into the man’s business dealings, the more I saw that The Spalding Corporation, Bruce’s parent company, was doing more than fine.

  “I guess that’s where the embezzled cash went to,” I said to the room.

  With no choice but to remain as Spalding’s representative, I made a decision and I can tell you right now, that he wasn’t going to like me very much by the time things were said and done.

  I knew I was great at what I did and I knew that I could win this case for him. As much as I would have loved to have been made a partner, I also knew I wasn’t comfortable with acquiring partnership over some crooked deal.

  If I lacked my moral compass, I could have gone through with it and come up on top but I knew what would happen to Withers International if I won. Ruthless man Withers’ company would cease to exist all because of some selfish and irresponsible schmuck like Spalding.

  There was a time where I thought nothing but greatness about Danica’s father. The man came from a solid background of entrepreneurs and was driven for success. He was a hard man to deal with but it served him well over the years, turning his tiny home-based company into a multi-billion dollar international conglomerate that dealt in public relations.

  Despite his blatant dislike of me hanging around his daughter, not to mention his disdain for my social status, I had admired the man. To be honest, I doubted he wanted any boy to infringe upon his daughter’s higher-education. What father did?

  With a loud huff, I ran my hands through my black hair and got up. I took a look at the clock and was baffled at how much time had passed between the beginning of my research and my coming to a suitable decision. It was nearly midnight.

  Chapter 7

  The next day, I woke up earlier than usual, confused and horny as fuck. Groaning, I rolled out of bed, to end up in a cold shower in an attempt to relieve myself.

  I hadn’t slept much the night before, tortured by thoughts of Danica and that pin-striped pencil skirt of hers. My night was haunted with images of her over my desk, her legs wrapped around my waist as I buried myself deep within her depths.

  I used those images and that of her mouth taking my length as I thrust into her with abandon, to get myself off. Once done, I shaved my stubble, did something presentable with my hair and dressed. Cursing my bloodshot eyes as the only proof of my lack of sleep, I headed to work.

  “Come in,” I called out to the person who’d knocked on my office door. Typing up an email reply to Brent who was checking in with the case and filling me in about his wife’s prognosis, I held up an index in pause to whoever entered.

  “Sir,” Sally said.

  “One moment.” I rolled my cursor over to the send button, clicked, and lifted my eyes to her. “Yes?”

  “Mr. Lowell is here to see you.”

  I smiled. “Send him in.” She nodded and made to leave. “And Sally,” she turned to face me, “you know to just send that man in without checking with me first.”

  “You looked so preoccupied earlier that I didn’t want to take a chance that you migh
t not be up to visitors.”

  “I’m fine. Thank you, Sally.” It felt odd to have a woman who was old enough to be my mother, calling me sir. “I’ve got to fix that.” I mumbled to myself when the woman disappeared.

  “You know, that’s a sign of going crazy, right?” Paxton said. “Talking to yourself like that, it’s not healthy.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be off somewhere with your new bride or something?” I asked.

  “Postponed it for a few months, Allie’s got something big going on at work and she can’t get away.” His face grew serious. “Funny thing happened earlier today when I took Jasper to the mall…”

  I knew what was coming next.

  “Seriously, am I the only one who’s been out of the loop for the past couple of weeks about her being back?” I asked with exasperation after Paxton told me about his run-in with Danica. “Is this why you’re here, to check up on me?”

  Paxton looked at me, his mouth opening and closing much like that of a fish out of water. “Well...”

  “You want to know the truth?” I asked and of course, he nodded. “Fine. I’m handling her husband’s affairs in their divorce. Did you know she was married, Pax? I can’t bel...”

  My best friend cut me off mid-ramble by saying, “She looks good.”

  “Are you fucking blind? The woman’s only gotten better over the years...” My words came to an abrupt stop as a self-satisfied smirk spread on his face. I crossed my arms over my chest. “What are you getting at?”

  “Ben was right, you’re still hung up on her.”

  I groaned. Word sure got around fast. “That ship sailed away a long time ago, pal,” I said but I knew I was in denial. Why couldn’t I just accept that Ben and Paxton were right and be honest with myself? Because you don’t want to be open to that again. “Do you have any clue as to what kind of shit I had to put up with after she left? Oh, that’s right, you do. I remember now. You were the messenger boy. By the way, thanks for that.”

  At this point, I was up on my feet, wearing a hole in the carpet at the front of my desk.

  Paxton’s amused expression grew and I could tell that the man was trying his best to stifle a bout of laughter which proved unsuccessful. “Wow! After fifteen years, she still has your balls in a vice.” His boisterous laugh broke loose and bounced off the walls of my office. I stopped dead in my tracks and fumed at his words. After a short while, his face went taut. “Seriously, you have to figure this thing out between you two. It’s been so long. Get some closure. Fuck her brains out, talk to her, tell her what happened, the truth, after she left. Christ, just do something! I’m tired of seeing you in this funk. It’s time you moved on, man and you playing around isn’t you.”

  My earlier conversation with Paxton played over and over in my head as the day went on.

  The man was right. I had to do something to get Danica Withers out of my head for good. Maybe now that she was in town there would be a way of closing that proverbial door to our past? Could I have that kind of heartfelt conversation with the woman who’d brought nothing but grief after her departure?

  My machismo kicked in with a, Hell no! I knew that this predicament was going to be a tough one to move on from even if I thought I had long-ago buried it. As much as I hated the fact I hadn’t moved on from those old wounds. I’d disguised my hurt with lust, liquor and ladies. Proof was in the fact that I compared every suitor to her and they all came up lacking, thus preventing me from erasing her from my mind.

  For all intents and purposes, Nica was no longer and Danica Withers was a new woman — one I no longer knew — a mere stranger. Something about that thought process told me that I was wrong in my assessment and that she was every bit the same girl I knew back in high school. The hurt look in her eyes at Fairfax was proof enough.

  Still, she managed to move on and you didn’t. What does that say about her? Maybe her father had been right all those years ago, maybe I hadn’t been enough for her.

  Chapter 8

  Wednesday, oh bloody Wednesday. It came before I knew it and with much dread.

  I was due in court in an hour and nothing seemed to be going right.

  Withers came and cornered me in my office, voicing his utter disgust at my representing the man that was attempting to take his daughter’s share of his company. I was disgusted with myself for representing Bruce Spalding but I wasn’t about to let him see up my sleeve.

  I was about to dupe my own client. And if anyone knew that I was about to sway the courts by behaving mediocre at best with my counselling abilities, I’d have to say that I’d be out of a job real quick and that no one from here to Timbuktu would ever take me on as partner or any form of legal counsel for as long as I lived. I was about to throw away the biggest case that could make my career and for what? A woman I had fallen in love with when I was eighteen? No, it was because of principle.

  Believe that if you think that’s what’ll help you feel all warm and fuzzy when you’re sleeping in a box in the alley behind Fairfax this time next year. You’ll be lucky to still have a job after this stunt.

  Maybe I let this case get the better of me but I knew I had to do it. No matter how I had once felt for Danica, or how I feel now, which I can’t begin to hypothesise about at the moment, it did boil down to principle. Well, some of it.

  “All rise,” the bailiff called out.

  I rose to my feet, my client beside me, wearing a smug expression as if he had already won the case. I smirked, wondering how long it would take before he lost that self-assured composure of his when everything blew up in his face.

  Cases were presented, battles were waged and the war had been fought. I may have “forgotten” a few key questions in my cross-examination, but my ultimate goal had been attained. Once or twice the judge had given me an inquisitive look, the jury seemed convinced and Spalding seemed to have been knocked down a peg or two, not to mention, the man was fuming with fury.

  Watching Danica jump up at the judge’s final ruling with glee put a smile on my face that was hard to conceal.

  Spalding should have been ecstatic not to be incarcerated for his embezzling stunt. Forfeiting his claim on Danica’s shares of Withers International would ensure that criminal charges wouldn’t be laid. I got mixed feeling about this agreement. It seemed that Withers looked weary with the ruling while Danica was overjoyed.

  In my opinion, the settlement was far more generous than what I would have advised for had I been Danica’s lawyer. I guess that was the difference between their counsel and me. Regardless of this, the information of the outcome of this case would be out for public consumption within the next day and Spalding’s reputation would be tarnished just the same.

  With a loud curse, Spalding was the first of anyone to stomp out of the room, followed by his Media Relations Manager, both, I might add, without a business-like handshake. The local media hounds awaited them as they exited the solid oak double doors to the courtroom and the din of cameras and their flashes could be heard.

  I remained seated, not willing to be part of the press frenzy outside. I was never one for the glitz and glamour of the high-profile assignments.

  I packed up my papers, stowed them away in my briefcase and when I turned, I saw Danica hug an adolescent boy, followed by her father. She peered at me over her father’s shoulder and I nodded, conceding my defeat.

  I took another look at the boy that was still wrapped up between the two Withers’ and walked out of the room using the side door, thrilled by the way I had pulled the wool over everyone, yet wondering what that fleeting look of panic in Danica’s eyes had been all about.

  Chapter 9

  Friday came all too soon and instead of partaking in my regular frivolities, I opted to stay home. It had been a rough week but somehow, spending time milling about people hell-bent on a good time and dashing advances just didn’t seem like my proverbial cup of tea.

  Upon my return to the office on Wednesday, I had received a call from Brent to give
me hell for, and I quote, “dumping my case in the shitter”. My bosses had been none too pleased with my less than stellar performance too.

  My excuse for being off my A-game must have been convincing enough. I told them that their client had themselves a curve-ball of information and that due to the last minute change of litigator, I couldn’t represent with the best of my ability.

  I can also tell you that I was now further away from becoming partner, than the day I started working for the firm.

  As the week went on, I found that I didn’t give a damn about my lackluster stature with the firm. What seemed like a career-long goal no longer seemed as important to me. With each passing day, this week, I wasn’t sure that I wanted to work for people who were willing to bat for criminals and who enjoyed playing the system. It wasn’t why I’d become a lawyer in the first place and I was quick to realize that I had grown resentful of the fact I held no control on choosing who I represented.

  The weight of the Spalding versus Withers case pressed down on me and I knew I had some important decision-making to do about my employment. I wasn’t quite sure what the outcome of this latest revelation of mine would yield but I knew that it was time for a change.

  The doorbell rang.

  Thinking it was some door-to-door salesman, and looking for a distraction, I went to answer.

  I didn’t expect to see who stood there — a kid — one that looked all too familiar somehow.

  “Can I help you?” I said.

  “The lady across the street told me that you could help me out,” he began. “My mom’s car broke down and she’ll kill me if she finds out I took it out for a spin without my license.”

  My gaze grew suspicious and I crossed my arms over my chest. “How old are you?”

  He averted his guilty gaze from mine. “Fifteen.” I pondered his answer and the fact that he was familiar yet I still couldn’t place him. “So, are you going to help me or what?”