The cab stopped at the curb in front of the office building at seven thirty-five, which wasn’t ideal, but acceptable. Adele paid and got out. As she did so, she saw a bright blue Camaro rush past, blowing its horn at the cab that nearly cut it off. That car was well known around the firm. It slowed down suddenly, its tires screeching, and turned into the employee parking. Showoff, Adele rolled her eyes.
There were other associates and a few paralegals in the main hall, all in a hurry, flowing through the glass doors and in the general direction of the elevators. Adele scanned her pass and hopped to sneak between closing doors.
Of course, he was there, the owner of the Camaro, self-important and cocky Daniel Krakowski, the firm’s private investigator. With a huge white smile on his admittedly handsome face. He pressed a button that held the doors open for her. She got in and the doors closed.
“Thanks, Dan.” She could sense the smell of his leather jacket from two feet away, mixed with his cologne, heavy and the kind of manly that bordered on gross.
“Seven forty, nice of you to show up, Simpson,” he replied, looking at the others in the elevator searching for approval. Nobody paid him any attention. He stood out among them: he was around thirty, but looked like he could be in his early forties, with his broad frame and dark stubble. Plus, unlike most people in the office, who wore business suits, Dan favored t-shirts with prints, jeans, and shabby Converse sneakers. He was a loner as far as office relationships went, and Adele had never seen him have a friendly conversation with anyone. And she understood why.
“Don’t you know that associates, especially junior associates, must be on time?” He made a scene out of looking at his phone, then he showed her the screen. It was an old model, with big buttons and a small display. “Seven forty-one, lady!”
Adele felt her face grow hot. The last thing she needed in her life right now was this jerk busting her balls. She knew it was all just an act, a public persona he’d assumed, and still, he was childish, but they weren’t in school anymore.
“What’s your problem, Krakowski? Krakowski. What kind of name is that, anyway?”
But Dan didn’t miss a beat: “Polish, actually. My family came here during the war…”
Adele looked at him with an expression of faux fascination with his story. “Don’t care, Dan.”
Mercifully, the elevator gave a single ring, announcing their arrival at the 49th floor. The doors slid open, and the two of them stepped out, followed by a few more people Adele worked with in the cubicles.
“Clock’s ticking, Simpson, chop-chop!”
“Quit following me, Dan. Don’t you have to be somewhere, too?”
“I have flexible working hours.”
“Great, go have them somewhere else.”
She reached her tiny pigeonhole of a working space and put her handbag on the desk with a loud bang that startled Dan along with everyone around them. In the awkward silence, looking around, he said: “Geez, somebody hasn’t had her coffee!”
With that he moved on, out of the general area and into the hallway that led to the partners’ offices. Dan’s job was, as the title suggested, doing all sorts of dirty work for the firm: from discreetly looking into a client’s private life, to running background checks on the personnel. The only thing that prevented Adele from feeling unsafe in the situation was that Dan’s services weren’t required unless a particular case called for deep digging, which sometimes turned illegal. Naturally, the firm would deny any connection to the investigator was he to be discovered and/or arrested, but Dan felt confident in his abilities, and Adele had to admit that he knew what he was doing.
At her desk, Adele logged in to her computer and got to work on the report, typing in the results of her morning phone calls. Her boss would be an hour or two late, but by that time everything had to be in order.
Such was her job, and she loved it. It was fun to navigate law! Every case was a mix of a puzzle and a chess match, where you had to figure out the rules every time, and then apply a strategy, which you tried to figure out along the way. Adele still had a lot to learn, but she believed she could make junior partner before she turned thirty. But first, she reminded herself, there were these damned reports to take care of. Time flew.
Dan Krakowski passed by her cubicle again an hour later. Tapping on the divider, he said, “Lady, you’re in for a treat!”
Adele sighed. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Hey, no need to be rude. I trust you’ll find out soon.” With another one of his smiles, Dan tapped out. “You can find me at the Starbucks.”
“Good for you.” She didn’t even look up at him. Whatever silly tease he’d come up with, she had better things to worry about. The irritation with him fueled her, and all the papers had been sent to the file room printer before nine in the morning. Her boss still hadn’t passed by, which was okay.
Adele picked up the papers and put them into folders with the company’s logo on them. It was a promising start to the week. As she headed back to her desk, something bugged her. There was something weird in the way Dan had spoken. He wasn’t teasing, not exactly, which meant that whatever he’d been told in one of the partners’ offices was serious and concerned her in some way. She waited.
At five after nine, her boss finally showed up.
Neil Radcliffe strode past her cubicle and without stopping, told her to follow him. The other associates paid it no mind. Everyone had work to do, so they only gave greeting nods, which Neil ignored. He was busier than all of them put together, and the responsibilities he had were far more serious. Adele hurried after him, folders tight in her hand.
Neil’s suit was impeccable, like all his suits, and the shoes shined. His hair was brushed back with hair gel – something Adele wasn’t really into, but it made him look good. He could model for Brioni, if all else failed; only Neil was too good. He was a closer, and his name on the wall was no coincidence or luck.
Cameron, the assistant, was in his box, sorting out appointments, using both the stationary and mobile phones. Neil said hi and opened the door to let Adele in first. The view never ceased to amaze her. It was almost as good as the view from his loft, but with considerably more skyscrapers in every direction. One wall was lined with bookshelves, half of them on law, the other on eastern culture and history. On the opposite wall were a leather sofa and a small conference table with half a dozen chairs. Neil sat behind his desk and fired up the computer.
“Close the blinds,” he said seriously, a vertical line between his eyebrows. Adele turned and shut the blinds, leaving them alone in the room, with no one watching through the glass.
“Is everything alright?”
“Oh, I’ll tell you, Ms. Simpson!”
He stood up and walked up to her, leaving mere inches between them. He smelled nice, his face shaven, eyes clear and playful. He took her hand.
“Neil, not here,” she whispered. The door wasn’t exactly locked, and if anyone caught them together, it would be devastating for both of them. Hooking up with colleagues wasn’t recommended, but doing it on a Monday morning in a named partner’s office was a terrible idea all around.
“Just a little? Come on, we could use some action right about now, don’t you think?”
She pulled her hand out of his.
“Not here. Okay, here, but not now.”
He returned her smile. “These the reports?”
“Yep. Mckenzie will be there next week, but we’ll have to visit her prior to the hearing. Still working on Griffith, but that woman is dirty.”
“Dirty enough to get her off the case?”
“Dirty enough to get her disbarred, if we play it right.”
“You’re a wonder. Good job.” He kissed her lips.
“I gotta get back to work.”
He stopped her. “One last thing. Meg will ask to speak to you a bit later.”
“About?”
“A case, don’t worry. Just giving you a heads up. It’s a big one.”
“Looking forward to it.”
She turned and left, without opening the blinds back up, lest people suspected something. Outside, Cameron asked her: “Everything okay in there?” He was obviously clueless.
“Fine. A lot of work, as always.”
“I hear that.”
Adele sat down, throwing discreet glances around and seeing that nobody was interested in her or her relationship with Neil. Every time they got close in the office she felt like people were watching, spying on them, ready to jump out and yell Busted! Apparently, that was all in her head.
But what was that treat Dan had spoken of? He got into her head, that was for sure. Perhaps, it was his goal all along. If so, he’d achieved it.
Finally, the time came, and Meg’s assistant called Adele’s personal phone to invite her in. She said it was urgent, which it didn’t seem to be.
Adele walked into the hallway, past Neil’s office, and on to Meg’s. Her working space was twice as big as Neil’s and better lit, as it was a corner office. There were few personal things in the room, and looking around, Adele felt as if she’d found herself in an interior design catalog. The furniture was minimalistic but functional, except for the couch in the corner, which could well serve as a comfy bed.
Meg Curry stood up from her desk, and offered Adele to sit down.
“How’s Mom?” she asked, studying Adele with a cat’s smile.
“Oh, she’s great, keeps asking about you. You should come for dinner some time.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Adele waited, pretending to know nothing about the upcoming talk. In the end, she wasn’t prepared for what was to come.
“Adele, you’re a smart woman.” A statement, and a genuine one. “As am I. Now, do you think I wouldn’t know what goes on in my own firm?”
Adele swallowed. “I suppose you would.”
“Enough crap, all right? I know you and Neil Radcliffe sleep together.” Another statement. She wasn’t mad, but certainly displeased.
Adele held a pause, choosing words. “From time to time. It’s nothing serious.”
Meg held up a hand. “That’s your business. I trust you two can figure things out on your own.”
“Okay.”
“But you see why I had to do it like this, don’t you?”
She did. Adele knew sooner or later this talk would take place, she just hadn’t expected it to be so soon and completely out of left field. But then, she supposed, that’s how these things usually happened.
“I understand.”
“Then you also understand that I have to take disciplinary action. Not much I can do about Neil, his inability to keep it in his pants is his to live with, but I have to do something about it, if only to teach you some manners.”
It wasn’t too pleasant of a conversation. Getting lectures at work was about the worst thing that could happen on a Monday morning.
“It’s only fair,” Adele agreed.
“So, there’s a big case we’re assembling, a class action against a son of a bitch charlatan. Seventeen couples, thirty-four people in total. All tricked into fake pregnancy treatments.” Meg paced around the desk. “It’s Neil’s case, but I want you to be second chair on it.”
“So far, it doesn’t sound like much of a punishment.”
“Don't celebrate just yet.” a cat's smile was there again, as Meg eyed her. "Are you familiar with Daniel Krakowski?"
Adele's heart sank. The mention of Dan alone was punishment enough, and now that Meg was giving her a moment to put two and two together, the picture formed, and it was a horrible one.
"Please don't. Not Krakowski. I can do it alone, I swear! I'll work double hours!"
Meg's expression changed, but she let Adele finish. Then she said: "this is not a discussion. It's a sensitive case and a tricky one, so we'll need solid proof before going to court. Dan has a strategy, and I like it, which means you'll do as I say. Got it?"
Adele wanted to groan. But Meg was right. She always was, when it came to cracking tough cases, and Adele admired that.
"I get it, you're right."
"Good. Glad we have an understanding. Neil will give you some details, but you'll have to talk to Dan regarding his plan, okay? Don't blow this one, Adele, I know you can do this."
"I appreciate that, Megan. I'll tell Mom you'll be coming over for dinner, then?"Meg smiled, nice and friendly again. "I'll give her a call."There was nothing left to say, so Adele dismissed herself and headed out, holding a thin case file in her hand. There wasn't much in it besides a short biography pulled from the guy's website, and that of course contained nothing incriminating. The interesting part was the victims' testimony, which said one Red Johnson (who names their kid Red? Adele thought) had treated their fertility problems, promising to get the couples pregnant within three months, yet the treatment that cost north of a hundred thousand dollars brought no practical results. The story was pretty much the same from most couples, including the mention of one case of success, although there was no proof. Everything pointed to Johnson making it up, as well as his whole program.
Adele read all this while waiting for Neil in his office, trying not to think about her inevitable interaction with Krakowski. She wanted to postpone it as long as she could, so when the boss finally showed up, she continued reading.
Chapter 2
“Why are you here?” Neil asked, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. He went past her to his desk.
“Working the case. Why don’t you get Cameron to bring you coffee?” she shot back.
“Because then I would have to work the case with you, and I’d much rather take a trip to the coffee machine.” He took a loud sip to illustrate the point.
“I see. Well, the case seems to be solid as it is, what’s holding us back?” Adele asked, riffling through the papers, scanning them diagonally. Nothing jumped out to her.
“What you’re asking is if there is any real need for you to work with Dan?”
She didn’t reply, but from her silence it was clear he was right.
“If you are asking that, then yes, you do need to work him. Dan’s a good sport.”
“He drives me mad, Neil! With his juvenile quips and general… prickness.”
“Good one. A little friendly banter never hurts.” He offered a smile, then saw she wasn’t taken by it, and changed his tune: “Look, I know what you mean, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a good asset. And he’s a friend of Meg’s. You of all people should know that she values friends.”
“You’re right.” And he was. Adele felt defeated. “Why don’t you and I do whatever Dan has come up with?”
“Let’s see… because I have about a thousand better things to do?”
“Right…”
“Hey, nobody said you should just take it from him. Fight back!” His hand, slightly raised, balled into a fist.
“Is he worth it though?” she asked, getting bored.
“Hey, I don’t see your What Would Jesus Do bracelet, so don’t hold back. The next time he opens his mouth, tell him to go fuck himself.”
She rehearsed: “Fuck yourself, Dan.”
“Damn straight. Adi,” Neil approached her and put his hands on her shoulders, “You are a smart, gorgeous woman, and Dan’s a P.I. You’ll work the case, hopefully briefly, and that’ll be the end of it. Don’t worry.”
Something told Adele that was not going to be the case. Still, she nodded, and prepared for the challenge.
“I’ll deal with him,” she said, and once again headed out of the office.
There were still files to go over, the testimony from over thirty couples regarding their experience with the fraudulent doctor. Adele expected to read through more stuff about placebo pills and healthy exercise, but that was fine – if she were to work with Krakowski, she would do everything necessary to dominate and be prepared. Whatever his genius plan was.
“Starbucks,” Adele muttered under her breath forty minutes la
ter. She’d gone through half the folder, and all victims claimed the same thing: Red Johnson had duped them. Reading through the files, she realized that there was indeed no evidence against the guy. The treatments turned out to be ineffective, but that wasn’t reason enough to go to court. She tried to see holes in his defense, but there seemed to be none. He had a good reputation as a shrink in Upstate New York, and his website said he had over fifteen years of experience. Looking at his picture on her display and in the file, Adele saw a man in his early forties, plump but not fat, with bright blue eyes behind rectangular spectacles, and a thinning hairline. He had a warm smile and the kind of face that you could trust right away, yet knowing of his alleged deeds, of targeting poor married couples that wanted to have children, Adele despised him already. There was nothing worse than screwing people over, playing on their desperation or misfortune in life. It was low and despicable, and to nail this scumbag, Adele was ready to work with Dan.
She put the folder into her handbag and left the office, taking the elevator down, and then going out to the neighboring plaza, where Dan was supposed to be waiting for her. She saw his car parked in front of the coffee shop, and Adele knocked on the hood as she passed it. The surface was clean and warm in the sun.
Our Happily Ever After: BWWM Interracial Romance Black Women White Men (That Forbidden Love Book 3) Page 15