Once Upon a Friendship

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  Sitting back, he stared. But only for a moment.

  Over a hundred thousand views in a single weekend.

  He could hardly believe it himself. That should get the old man’s attention.

  With a couple of deft moves of his finger, he’d made and printed a screen shot of the page. He tightened the knot of his tie and, throwing his trench coat over his arm, picked up his briefcase and was on his way.

  While waiting for the elevator, he remembered to text Tanner.

  And was moderately impressed when the man was already in place, his SUV running and waiting for Liam as he stepped out the back door.

  * * *

  IT WAS LUNCHTIME before Gabrielle had a chance to think about the morning’s gaffe. She’d tried to call Liam about it on the way to work, to warn him, but he hadn’t picked up. She didn’t leave a message, figuring it was better just to tell him about the episode in person, when she could profusely apologize for representing him in such an unprofessional fashion, for letting the reporter get to her and make her antagonistic, for making Liam look like a buffoon with a groupie.

  A tearful client, one whose husband was suing for shared custody of her kids and hadn’t returned them after his scheduled weekend visit, had been waiting for her when she walked into the office, and her focus had been fully engaged the rest of the morning.

  Now Terri, the paralegal Gabi relied on most, found her in the hall staring at a vending machine of day-old sandwiches. “Gabi, I’ve been looking up your name all morning like you asked. Something just popped up a few minutes ago.”

  “It’s bad, isn’t it?” She could tell by the worried look on the young brunette’s face.

  “Well, you better take a look.” Pulling Gabrielle by the arm, Terri took her into the office she shared with several other paralegals and sat her at her computer.

  Gabrielle was thankful the room was empty except for the two of them when Terri clicked on an icon on the bottom of her screen and the site Terri wanted her to see came up.

  Attitude had published it. She recognized him in the small headshot. His moniker was right there beside it: Tarnished Truth.

  What Man Wouldn’t Die for a Hot Attorney Like This? was the headline. And there followed a streaming video of her inelegant speech. Watching herself, Gabrielle wanted to crawl under the desk. It was worse than she’d feared.

  She was worse than she’d feared. A she dragon defending her fold.

  Only Liam wasn’t her fold.

  And she’d just made a fool of both of them.

  * * *

  “DID YOU LET your attorney know you were going to be seeing your father this morning?” Elliott Tanner clearly didn’t like where Liam was having him take him.

  “No. She’s working. I’ll tell her later today.”

  The bodyguard’s frown gave his opinion. But there were some things that were between just a father and his son.

  It was more a given that they wouldn’t have contact since the old man had cut him off and then had him thrown out of the Connelly Investments building.

  Liam had tried two ways to get inside his father’s home. He had Elliott Tanner punch Liam’s access code into the gated entrance. When that didn’t work, he called up to the house and was told by the housekeeper who’d helped his mother raise him that his father wasn’t home. When he asked to be admitted anyway, he was told again his father wasn’t home. Cajoling didn’t work. Charming her didn’t work. His father wasn’t home.

  So, in spite of the fact that he was ruining a good suit and a new pair of shiny leather shoes, and with his bodyguard in tow, he resorted to the one way he knew for sure he could get in. The way he’d used to sneak in and out of the mansion when he was a kid. Through a group of trees, past a thick patch of shrubbery, to an old gatehouse on the back of the property. When his father had had the security fencing put in, he’d left the old gatehouse, building the fencing right up to it.

  Because Liam’s mother had asked him to. She’d loved that old gatehouse. Had painted it several times.

  Luckily for Liam, Walter Connelly wasn’t into gatehouses and had no idea that his son had stashed a key to that one under the cement foundation.

  But all the effort gained him was a face-to-face conversation with a very nervous housekeeper.

  “Your dad doesn’t want you here,” she told Liam, standing between him and the front hallway. She’d opened the door to him. He took that as a good sign.

  She was also looking very nervously at the silent dark-haired giant dressed all in black behind him.

  “Don’t worry about Elliott. Dad sent him to me,” Liam said, mostly convinced the words were true. “He’s here to protect us.”

  “Your father doesn’t want you here, Liam. I’m so sorry. But I can’t let you in. I’ll lose my job...”

  And how was a sixty-year-old spinster who’d spent her entire adult life serving one family going to find a life outside of the Connelly mansion?

  Which she was going to have to do if Walter was convicted.

  “I want to help him, Greta,” he told the not-so-handsome German lady who’d come to live with them before he’d been old enough to remember. “I don’t care about Connelly or being written out of the will. But he’s my father. He needs my help. You know how stubborn he gets...”

  “I can’t let you in. I can’t talk to you.” She glanced behind her. Hands clasped in front of him, Tanner shifted. “If you come back, he’s going to take out an order of injunction against you.”

  “Is he here?” Liam asked, trying to get a glimpse into the house, to whomever she feared finding out that she was breaking Walter’s mandates. He wasn’t going to be threatened or bullied.

  She leaned forward, whispering, “He’s had cameras installed all over in here. Video and audio. Now go.”

  “Is he here?” Liam asked beneath his breath.

  Greta shook her head and shut the door.

  BY TWO IN the afternoon, the next time Gabrielle had a break, Attitude’s video had gone up on Facebook and YouTube. All thanks to him, she was certain.

  And one of the less reputable national news sources was showing it on their site, as well.

  Sitting at her desk with the door closed, Gabrielle picked up her cell phone to call Liam. It was probably too late. Chances were he’d already seen it.

  Stupid of her to give some unknown journalist a chance at the big time by walking right into the nationally breaking story of Walter Connelly’s imminent trip to the grand jury.

  She should have taken a page from George, an experienced and successful corporate attorney, and just said Liam had no comment.

  She should have called Liam at lunch.

  But she’d hoped the little worm’s story wouldn’t be seen by anyone who wasn’t looking for it.

  She’d three missed calls. All from Liam.

  * * *

  HE’D KNOWN THE old man was vindictive. But Liam had never, ever, in a million years expected this. Sitting in a jail cell with Elliott Tanner right beside him, he had to hand it to the old man. At least if he was going to have his son arrested, he’d made sure that his bodyguard would do the time with him.

  He was putting Liam in danger. And protecting him at the same time. As if that somehow made it all okay. Made him a better man.

  “You should’ve called her office phone,” Tanner said, sounding not quite peevish, but close to it. “She told you that she turns the ringer off on her cell when she’s with clients or in court.”

  Yes, Gabrielle had said that. “She’s with people who need her more than we do,” he said. “People who can’t afford to hire another attorney.”

  Which was why he’d told Tanner he’d fire him if he used his own phone call to try to reach Gabrielle on her office line.

  Besides, it seemed he had
more of his old man in him than he’d thought. Let Walter stew when he didn’t hear that his son was out of jail. It wouldn’t hurt for him to know that his son was sitting in a jail cell. Like Buckus had so long ago.

  For him?

  Gabrielle had been going to phone Gwen Menard that morning on her break. To fill her in on what they’d found over the weekend. To hear if there was anything more to report on the investigation against his father.

  Liam would rather she use her break time for the more important work. As long as they were out of jail before bedtime, he was fine.

  “These investigations take months,” he said aloud, mostly to drown out Tanner’s breathing down his neck.

  “We are not going to be here for months.”

  “I was talking about my father. Years, even.”

  Would Gabi continue to represent him all that time? Would he be able to keep his growing passion for her in check? Or would it fade, leaving them in peace?

  And their little family happily together forever. The girls would marry good men. They’d have kids. And Liam would be their honorary uncle...

  The thought of Gabi having another man’s children made him start to hyperventilate. So he thought about Marie’s kids.

  And had no problem at all.

  “You’re going to get pretty bored hanging around me for years,” he said to Elliott. He couldn’t think about Gabi, clearly. Not until this was all over and he was more himself.

  Elbows on his knees, his head hanging, Tanner turned and looked at Liam. “If today’s anything to go by, I doubt it,” he said.

  “So you plan to be around?” Liam asked, more to goad the guy. To get him to admit that Walter was behind his employment with Liam.

  “No.”

  It was all the man said. Clearly all he was going to say. So Liam asked, “What do you do when you aren’t watching me?”

  “I watch other people.”

  “Here in Denver?”

  “Yep.”

  “So if I look you up...” He’d have done so already, if not for the fact that Williams had sent him. And the police and Gabi had both checked on him, as well.

  “You’ll find my LLC duly registered and my taxes paid.”

  “You think we’ll make the evening news?”

  They’d left the Connelly mansion as soon as Greta had verified that his father wasn’t home. And gone straight to the lion’s den. Connelly Investments.

  At which point Walter, who’d expressly forbidden Liam access, had called the police.

  The reporters outside Connelly Investments had been only too happy to snap flashes in their faces as they’d been escorted out of the building in handcuffs.

  Another dry look from Tanner. “You can count on it.” The man was rubbing his hands together. As though he’d like to be grinding something between them.

  “You got family?” Liam asked. Someone who’d be alarmed to see him on the evening news in handcuffs.

  “An aunt and cousin out in California.”

  “You see them much?”

  “No.”

  “Ever been married?” He figured Tanner for around his own age, thirty, thirty-one.

  “No.”

  Receiving the loud and clear message that the subject was off-limits from the other man’s tone, Liam asked, “You don’t like me much, do you?”

  The silence in the jail cell left too much room for thoughts that needed action. Like getting together with June Fryburg while his article was hot and finding out if she’d give him a chance to write about the Connelly case from his own perspective, even if his father wouldn’t cooperate.

  In the meantime, talking would pass the time.

  “I like you fine, Connelly,” Tanner said. “Now would you shut the hell up so I can listen to what’s going on down the hall?”

  Neither of them was going to be there long, Liam was certain of that. As soon as Gabrielle got free and listened to her messages, she’d be there to bail them out.

  His old man would drop the trespassing charges...this time.

  But Liam had gotten his message, loud and clear.

  He wasn’t going anywhere near Walter Connelly again. Ever.

  But he would be going through Connelly’s files again, paying close attention to a timeline of everything George had done.

  He had to know if George was in on the fraudulent investments with his father. If Buckus was. Or if the old man had acted alone.

  He had to figure out a way to secure Greta’s future in the likely event she found herself out of work.

  He had money in his trust. Nothing by his father’s standards. But if he invested well and started to earn substantially, he could possibly afford to take on a housekeeper. As long as she’d work for less than his father was paying her.

  One thing was for certain. When it came to making money, to finances and investing, Liam knew a lot.

  Because he’d learned from the best.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  AS SOON AS she heard Liam’s first voice mail, asking her to meet him at a particular city jail on a particular street, Gabrielle packed up for the day and ran for her car. In pencil-thin two-inch heels. She dialed his number on the way and hung up when it went straight to voice mail.

  Luckily she didn’t trip and kill herself.

  By the time she was buckled in, she had Marie up on the Bluetooth in her car—an inexpensive after-factory model that her brother had installed for her when she and Marie had driven to New Mexico to see her family two years before. “Are you with Liam?” Marie asked as soon as she picked up. “Oh, my gosh, Gabi, I just saw the news and...”

  “It’s all over the news now?”

  “Of course it is! Based on the footage I’m looking at there were at least thirty members of the press there when they took him away.”

  Wait. What? Maybe she should have listened to Liam’s next two messages. She’d been too impatient with her voice mail system, needing her to choose whether to save or delete. His first message had said to meet him at the jail. She’d thought Walter had been arrested again.

  “Who took who away?”

  “Liam! He was arrested! Right outside of Connelly Investments! Elliott was, too! The news says that Walter Connelly had them arrested for trespassing!”

  “You’ve got to be kidding...” Gabrielle wanted to cry. To scream. To rant at a mean and vindictive sixty-year-old man.

  She wanted to be surprised.

  But she wasn’t.

  More than anything she wanted the man she loved out of jail. Immediately.

  Loved. She hadn’t just thought that. Or rather, she had, but loved like... Marie loved him.

  “I can’t believe he went down there,” she said now, pushing aside her personal feelings as she focused on the case. That was all that mattered at the moment.

  The case. Who was guilty and who might be being framed.

  Not who loved whom.

  “I’m on my way to the jail now,” she told Marie. While Gabrielle would have liked to hang up to concentrate on the hour ahead of her and the legalities involved in getting her client out of jail before dinner, Marie, who was understandably wound up, needed to talk.

  Gabrielle told Marie about her morning screwup. Asked Marie if she’d seen anything on the news about it. She hadn’t. Which meant it hadn’t yet made national news.

  With any luck, it wouldn’t.

  “Grace has been fretting most of the day,” Marie said next. “She’s bothered by all of the reporters. Several of them are.”

  “I’ll bet Janice thinks the whole thing’s exciting,” Gabrielle said, calming as she pictured the residents who were depending on the three of them to keep them securely in their homes. “Maybe you should call a meeting after you close the s
hop,” she suggested. “Just let everyone know what’s going on and about the security company we’ve hired to ensure that they can come and go without hassle or fear.”

  “I had Sam hand deliver memos to every single tenant first thing this morning,” Marie told her. And Gabrielle knew she should have thought of it.

  Marie counted on her to be Threefold’s legal advisor. And that morning she’d been too busy thinking about how she was going to look as she represented Liam when she walked out the door to think about anything else.

  Like keeping her head about her as she took on media representatives who were out to use the Connelly misfortune to their own benefit.

  Liam was consuming her. Not just her mind, but her emotions. And those emotions were clouding her thoughts.

  That had to stop.

  * * *

  HE SAW THE gorgeous woman standing in the lobby of the police station first. The two-inch heels clicked prettily as she walked, drawing his attention. His gaze traveled from there up over slim ankles, long, perfectly shaped legs, a black skirt and a tailored jacket with bow-shaped silk buttons at the waist, and the police station, the afternoon faded away for that split second. He was himself again. Taking interest in a woman he’d yet to meet...

  “I’m sorry it took me so long to get here.”

  At first he recognized the voice as if he was in a fog. Recognized the heels walking toward him. It was as though he’d known already.

  And didn’t want to know.

  “Are you okay?” The heels were toe to toe with his smudged dress shoes. “Your pants, they’re stained. Were you in a fight?”

  The beautiful woman was his attorney. He’d been ready to flirt with Gabrielle.

  “Don’t worry about the time,” he said, infusing so much cheer in his voice he convinced himself that he was fine. “I could have called your office phone, but I thought it would do my father some good to spend the afternoon knowing that his son was in jail. Until now it’s been the one place he forbade me to go that I didn’t.”

  “I apologize that you had to make the trip down here,” Tanner said from just behind Liam.