Once Upon a Friendship

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  “What happened?” Gabrielle asked as they walked with the officer who’d escorted them from the holding cell toward the window where they could sign to have their things returned to them.

  “I insisted on seeing my father.” Liam could do his own talking. “I stood outside and called his phones, cell and office, more than once, leaving a message on his office recorder, letting him know that I wasn’t going anywhere, so he might as well pick up. When none of that worked, I went inside.”

  “Liam told his father he wanted to help him,” Tanner butted in. “Next thing you know there’s three squad cars pulling up and we’re both in handcuffs being carted away.”

  Liam was shown to the window and signed for his wallet, briefcase, belt and cell phone. Tanner did the same.

  “It’s all over the news,” Gabrielle said softly as, with officers watching them, they headed out into the cold.

  Liam wasn’t sure he cared at the moment.

  More pressing was the woman walking with him to her car. She looked so...feminine. And it felt so good, having her there rescuing him. As if he was hers to rescue...

  Suddenly this moment, not the one when he’d been cuffed and pushed down into a squad car, was the scariest part of the day.

  It shamed him, this inexplicable need to be tied to her. She was there to help him. As his attorney. She was one of his very best friends. She trusted him.

  And suddenly he was picturing what it would be like to kiss her.

  It was unacceptable.

  Wrong.

  And going to stop.

  * * *

  THE NUMBER OF reporters outside the coffee shop had doubled since that morning. As Liam drove down the street that cornered the front of their building, instead of pulling up out front, Gabrielle eyed the batch of them and groaned inwardly when she recognized Attitude. She’d yet to tell Liam about that piece of bad news in his already horrible day.

  Driving around back, Liam pulled her car right up to their entrance and turned her keys over to the security guard who would park her car, leaving her to wonder how she was going to get her keys back.

  “Your keys will be delivered to you upstairs,” Liam told her, as though he could read her mind now, too, in addition to knowing her order for Chinese without having to ask.

  “I’ve taken the liberty to arrange for twenty-four-hour security both in front and back of the building,” Elliott said quietly as they left the car and went straight into the building.

  Security was keeping paparazzi off the back lot, but cameras had zoom lenses and Gabrielle didn’t want to take any more chances of having any part of her splashed on the news.

  “I’ll be heading home,” Elliott continued as they walked with purpose toward the elevator that would take her straight to her apartment. Where she could assess the damages while Liam got cleaned up.

  She’d heard, in the car on the way home, how he’d come to be smudged. And had been glad that she’d been in the backseat, having asked him to drive, so he couldn’t see her sudden smile. The antics—gaining access to his father’s estate through the old gatehouse—reminded her of the Liam she’d known in college. That boy had been nearly dauntless when it came to reaching a goal.

  “For the next few days, I’m going to insist that you call me before you leave the building,” Elliott was saying to Liam.

  “I’d rather you follow Gabi.” Liam stood tall, briefcase in hand, as they waited for the elevator. “People saw her come bail us out. She’s been inadvertently put into the limelight now, too. I won’t have her harmed, or in any way hassled...”

  “Forget it, Liam,” she said dryly. She wasn’t one of his fragile hothouse flowers who didn’t know how to change a tire. Or shoot a gun. She didn’t need his protection. “You’re the one they want. You’re the one who’s had a threatening letter and a vandalized car. You’re the one with a billionaire father who’s been arrested for stealing from people.”

  “I can’t be two places at once,” Elliott said, looking at Liam. “If you want to stay put here with the security in place, I can make sure Gabrielle gets to and from work without mishap.”

  She opened her mouth to tell them that they were being ludicrous, but the elevator doors opened and in those two seconds, Liam said, “You’ve got a deal. Have a good evening,” and ushered Gabrielle in.

  She was not going to be watched. She wasn’t one of the rich and famous.

  “I liked it when Marie and I were just nobodies.” She said the words, somewhat peevishly, as they traveled slowly up to the second floor. She was going to call Elliott Tanner before morning and tell him to stick to Liam.

  Just because he’d said he’d stay home didn’t mean he would. And if today was anything to go by, he clearly needed watching more than she did.

  The man had no radar when it came to putting himself in danger. Growing up privileged seemed to have given him a false sense of security. “Thank you for all you did for me today,” Liam replied. “You’re going to see a bonus on your check.”

  The words were just the slap in the face she needed.

  She might be Liam Connelly’s friend of more than ten years, might even be inadvertently falling in love with him, but right now she was just his paid attorney.

  It would do her good to remember that.

  * * *

  ALL SHE REALLY wanted was to have a salad alone, in peace and quiet. Texting Marie to let her know she was home—a safety habit they’d fallen into in college—she kicked off her shoes as soon as she was in their door, picking them up to carry them back to the shoe holder hanging in the closet.

  Liam had asked her to meet him upstairs in half an hour. And even if he hadn’t, she’d have had to see him. She still had to confess her idiocy of the morning.

  And pray that he didn’t figure out that after more than ten years of being his platonic friend, she’d suddenly developed intense, nonplatonic feelings for him.

  They had to talk about the trespassing charges and how she was going to go about working with his father to have them dismissed. They had no time to deal with personal drama. Walter could play hardball all he wanted, but she had too much on him for him to refuse to drop the charges. She’d already figured out that much. All she had to do was threaten to expose his affair as more evidence of his overall duplicitous nature, adding in that he’d been carrying on with Missy while his sick wife was still alive.

  She’d never follow through on such a threat. But if playing rough with Liam’s father was the only way to get him to drop the charges against his son, she’d do so.

  She was intending to convince Liam to sign an agreement to stay away from his father in exchange for Walter’s dropping of the charges. Hopefully, Walter would respond well to the polite and rational plea. Surely he didn’t really want Liam to have a criminal record.

  Reaching for a pair of old sweats—Liam had seen her in her pajamas enough times to make standing on ceremony with him completely unnecessary—Gabrielle changed her mind at the last minute and grabbed a pair of black pants and a white sweater, instead.

  The night ahead was not going to be a time among friends. She was going to be working. And as long as she kept her mind on her job, she’d do it well.

  There would not be a repeat of the morning’s unprofessional lapse. Nor would she allow herself to think about Liam as anything other than a client.

  There was just too much at risk to do otherwise.

  * * *

  LIAM PURPOSELY WAITED for Gabrielle to arrive before turning on his computer or television set. He’d listened to his voice mail, though, and found that June Fryburg, the editor he’d called, was not only willing to have him do his own version of the Connelly story, one based in truth rather than speculation and innuendo, but she’d already sold it to a major news source.

  Her first big co
up. And his, too.

  His father was inadvertently giving Liam what he’d always wanted most. Success as a journalist. The only thing he wasn’t sure about was if June had made her call to him before or after he’d appeared on local news in handcuffs.

  He told himself that it didn’t matter, that journalists who went to jail trying to get a story were often more sought after for having done so. And he could in good conscience say that he’d been at Connelly Investments that morning with the express purpose of getting this particular story.

  He wanted to help his father before public opinion, through the press, crucified him. Even if by some chance the grand jury didn’t indict him, which Liam seriously doubted, his reputation would be ruined. There would be doubt in people’s minds when it came to Walter’s trustworthiness.

  In the investment business, a lack of trust was the kiss of death.

  Something he had to keep in mind for himself, the small voice inside of him reminded. Financial investment was the business he knew in his sleep. It was his fallback. His security net.

  He couldn’t be going around breaking and entering or getting himself arrested anymore. His reputation was his security.

  There was a message from Tamara as well. For both of them. She wanted to come to Denver. To see their father. And to see him and Gabrielle again and to meet Marie. She had a week off at spring break and enough money saved to buy a plane ticket.

  She failed to say whether or not Missy would approve of the adventure. As much as he wanted to see her again—and he did, he missed her already—he was not going to come between a girl and the mother who was loving and committed to giving her child the best chance at a good life.

  And, ironically, the last message was from a Denver police officer, following up on his two threat reports—the letter and the car. The two reports had been joined into one case, assigned to a Billy Wilton. Liam was to contact Billy about any further incidents or if he had any more information on the previously reported crimes. Other than that, there was nothing to report. Officer Wilton left both his office and cell phone numbers.

  Liam wondered if Billy Wilton knew about Liam’s arrest.

  He was out of the shower, but still with wet hair, in jeans and with a towel around his neck when he heard Gabi’s knock on the door.

  Looking forward to a kicked-back evening where he could just be himself, he didn’t bother going for a shirt before he answered. She’d be in the sweats she put on when she was in for the night. They’d be right back on even footing. Friends for life.

  Where they belonged.

  He, for one, couldn’t wait.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  LIAM HAD THE professionally dressed Gabrielle who’d arrived at his front door sit at his computer. With a hastily donned black T-shirt on with his jeans and shoes on his feet, he leaned over her just enough to see without a glare.

  So much for a kicked-back evening. His attorney was tense. To say the least.

  They both knew that his arrest had made the news. It was wise to find out how much of an issue the press was making of the situation. He’d done a stupid thing. A couple of them. In hindsight, he wasn’t proud of himself.

  Gabrielle was his lawyer, being paid to assess the situation and then advise him how to proceed. It was her job to clean up his mess.

  He’d already signed on to the internet, but left his home screen up. His executive desk chair seemed to swallow Gabi as she sat there. Clicking.

  The only reason he noticed how slender and...feminine...her fingers looked as she placed them on his keyboard was because he was used to seeing his own thicker hands there.

  “Liam?” Her hands dropped back to her lap as she turned her head just enough to see him.

  “It’s okay, Gabi. I’m prepared. Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it.” He hadn’t told her about his idea for the article yet, about his editor’s positive response. First, because, though he’d called, he hadn’t been able to reach June to make certain the offer still stood in light of the day’s events.

  And secondly, because they had to figure out the day’s repercussions before he socked her with another issue. Gabi was best at one thing at a time. Always had been. She’d studied for one final at a time. Ate food off her plate one item at a time. Paid her bills one at a time on the day each was due.

  “No...there’s something else...”

  His stomach lurched. Had she noticed the way he’d first looked at her when she’d walked toward him at the police station? Did she know that he was developing extremely uncomfortable feelings where she was concerned? He was pretty sure he’d kept them to himself. But...

  She hadn’t worn her sweats, as if she was trying to keep distance between them. Or wasn’t comfortable around him anymore.

  She wasn’t saying anything. The pained expression on her face was enough to keep him rattled.

  He could bring up what was happening. Talk about finding her irresistible all of a sudden. But what good would it do? They both knew what they’d be risking by starting anything between them. Assuming she even had an interest in trying to date him. Marie would be hurt, left out. A third-wheel situation didn’t usually work well for long. Plus, he was rich. Gabrielle had never hidden the fact that she wasn’t comfortable around so much wealth.

  But, most importantly, if his interest moved on—and though he couldn’t imagine it at the moment, the reality was, based on his history, that it probably would—there’d be no way to go back to the “them” they’d been. He’d have lost his family.

  So maybe if they talked about it—agreed that neither of them wanted to pursue anything—the allure would die a natural death.

  It was possible.

  The elephant in the room and all that.

  “Look,” he started, having no idea what was going to follow, knowing only that he had to take accountability and somehow make this right before it was too late.

  “No... I... There’s...”

  “Gabi, it’ll all be fine—”

  “I screwed up.” She blurted right over him, as though the falsity of his assurances was so strong it had blown her reticence right out the door.

  Liam stepped back. Away from the emotion that flooded him as he looked into those pain-moistened eyes.

  Wait. What was she talking about? He was the one who’d gotten himself arrested.

  He was the one who’d somehow fallen for his attorney.

  Her eyes filled with tears. “I’m so sorry. I wanted so badly to help you, and instead I’ve made everything worse. At a time I didn’t think it could get any worse.”

  His system stopped for a moment. Total shutdown.

  Gabi was crying? For him?

  Marie was the emotional one. Not Gabrielle...

  The agony in her gaze hit him anew. Whatever she’d done...it must be bad.

  “What did you do?” he asked, the question infused with dread. Had she agreed to move away? Taken a job somewhere? Was she leaving him?

  “This morning. Out front. I was going to make that ‘no comment’ statement to reporters, if there were any out there. Like we talked about on the way home last night.”

  In the cacophony of his day, he’d completely forgotten that little detail.

  “So what happened?” He was trying to look stern but wanted to smile. Gabi wasn’t used to his life, to having reporters at charity functions or having her picture in the society pages now and then. She’d probably chickened out, gone out the back way. She was, after all, the reserved one of the bunch. Unless she was in court.

  “This jerk...” She glanced away then, as her voice, full of anger and disgust and he couldn’t tell what else, continued on. “He was out to nail you to a cross. He’d already made up his mind about you—certain that you’re in as thick as your father is. He was just looking to get me to sa
y something that he could twist to fit the spin he’d already put on his story.”

  Interesting. Apparently she hadn’t chickened out. “And?”

  “I said more than ‘no comment.’”

  “You did.” He wanted to take this seriously. Gabi was a smart woman and not disposed to drama. The fact that she was upset usually meant something was legitimately upsetting. And he wanted to hug her, too. He never should have sent her out there, a small fish in his big diseased pond.

  She’d been so sure she could handle it. It had seemed so important to her the night before when they’d all discussed their plans, that as his attorney she should be the one to make the statement. Marie had thought it a good idea. So had Elliott Tanner, not that he had enough history on them to know what he was talking about, except from a safety standpoint. Tanner hadn’t thought Gabi would be in any danger facing any reporters on her own. To the contrary, it had seemed the least dramatic way to go...

  With her hands clasped in her lap like a schoolgirl, she said, “I got defensive, Liam. I said more than I should have.”

  “What did you say?” He was still just merely curious at this point.

  Another glance up at him and she turned back to his computer. “You can see for yourself. The jerk put it up on YouTube.”

  Liam’s first clue that Gabi had real reason for concern hit him when she mentioned that the video was online. His second came as soon as her fingers hit the keyboard. She knew right where to go to find what she was looking for, which meant she’d already seen it. And knew it was bad.

  The third was the number of views the video had had. Almost as many as his article. In less than a day’s time.

  She’d gone viral.

  * * *

  “IF YOU DID your homework like a good reporter should...”

  Liam watched the scene unfold on his computer screen, completely entranced. No one had ever...ever gone to bat for him like that.

  He’d had no idea Gabi had so much lion in her.

  Or that he’d be the one to inspire such a passionate response from her.