by Eden Butler
“He kept mentioning how this wasn’t your fault. More than once he reminded them about the stalker and that those photos were photoshopped,” Clara, the partners’ legal assistant had mentioned to Lily before she left the office. Clara was professional, but as an assistant, she wasn’t bound by certain confidentiality agreements. At least, not when the meetings were informal and the partners discussing those damn photos and how the entire situation bugged Landry, had made the meeting this morning “off the record.” But Clara heard them. It was hard not to. Old Landry’s hearing was going. He shouted more than he spoke. Clara frequently gave Lily a head’s up about where the partners were meeting for lunch or what bottles of Scotch the partners preferred. Lily made her Christmas purchases accordingly. It helped to have someone on the inside. Especially when things were rough and by God, things were the roughest.
“Maybe you should get a lawyer,” Clara had told Lily after the partners had left for lunch. She’d pulled Lily into the copy room, whispering details of Landry’s complaint. “I don’t think they’ll fire you, how could they? You haven’t done a damn thing to warrant this, but you know, just to cover your own back.”
“Doesn’t seem to matter, does it?” She’d leaned a hip against the copier, moving her head toward the door to see if anyone was approaching. “I’m a woman working against an entire office of Neanderthals. We all want to make partner. Can’t do that if the old men upstairs think you’re fucking random people and having pictures taken in the process.”
“But this hasn’t gone beyond the office.” Clara stepped closer and kept her voice quiet. “I don’t think it’s gone beyond the fifth floor, actually.”
“Doesn’t mean they won’t find out.” Lily appreciated Clara’s pat on her back and the information she’d given her. Scrubbing her temples Lily had tried organizing her thoughts, getting together the details to plead her own case, as much as she could. She’d stared back at Clara, eyes searching, as she filtered through options. “They mention when they’d talk to me?”
“After lunch.” Clara straightened, let her hand fall to her side. “That’s why I told you now. In case you wanted to call someone. Have someone…”
“No,” Lily answered, adjusting her skirt before she reached for the door just behind Clara. “I can handle it. Whatever they dish out. I know the law and I know I didn’t do a damn thing.”
She hadn’t. It was something she’d made sure to remind Landry and his junior partner Ellis when they pulled her into the office. The photos were disgusting, there was no denying that. Images of a woman with dark hair, like Lily’s, and too-thin shape, very unlike Lily’s. In one image, the woman was bent over a leather sofa, one that reminded her of the sectional in the office lobby. But she’d never let anyone bend her over the lobby sofa. She’d never let anyone ever yank on her hair as they took her from behind and never, not once in life, had Lily Campbell taken one guy in her mouth while another one went doggy-style on her.
But those were things that Landry preferred not to reference during the Informal meeting three hours ago. The old asshole had used phrases like “unfortunate situation” and “office decorum” rather than mention Lily’s face photoshopped on a rail thin waif’s body.
“This entire situation is beyond my control. You are aware of that, correct?” she’d told them, knowing that her voice went a little loud, that her grip on the leather arm of the chair across from Landry’s desk had her fist shaking.
“We are, of course,” Ellis said, speaking over the old man whose face had gone a little purple. “No one is accusing you of anything, Lily.”
They’d never be so careless. They’d learned their lesson. Two years back Lydia Williams, a loud redhead, top of her class at Harvard Law had been fired. She’d been the first woman Landry had agreed to hire in fifteen years, and they’d settled her with a younger partner, working for the Vegas clients—a modest corporation who ran up-and-coming casinos because those people were accustomed with letting women guide and direct them.
But Lydia had caught the eye of the CEO’s nephew, an overweight frat boy who’d wormed his way into upper management with the help of a little corporate nepotism. Lydia hadn’t returned his affection, had been adamant that she wasn’t interested in the frat boy. It hadn’t stopped him from making threats, from giving Lydia ultimatums and then, finally, having her fired outright. But Lydia wasn’t one to take any hurdle when it came, and a wrongful termination and sexual harassment lawsuit had rattled the partners. It had cost them the Vegas clients and a hefty chunk of change. The attention had been unwarranted and unfortunate, but Lydia still lost her job.
Lily, on the other hand, had landed a stalker; a creative one at that and somehow those annoying phone calls and Facebook messages had elevated and when she blocked and ignored the attention, the senior partners got a manila envelope with pictures of Lily’s face on a naked, fucking body that wasn’t hers.
They might have not been accusing her of a thing, but Ellis’s soft tone was placating, almost as annoying as the hoity glares old man Landry shot her way.
“No,” she said, sitting straighter in the chair across from that large oak desk, “but it sure feels like I’m getting blamed anyway.”
“Not at all,” Ellis said through a nervous laugh and that had Lily curling her hands into fists. “We do feel, however,” Ellis started, folding his hands in front of him when Landry cleared his throat, obvious discomfort tightening the muscles around his mouth. “That it might be a good idea to take some time off. Relax, let us sort this out. You are set to meet with HR this afternoon, to, ah…go over your options should anything else come to light. We just want to get ahead of this before the lower floors catch wind.”
Lower floors meant the associates. It meant the gossips. It meant the assholes hungry for Lily’s fifth floor office. But this was no means of calming the storm before it came, and Ellis had no intention of killing the gossip before it started. If Lily was right, and she suspected she was, Ellis was under orders to get the firm accustomed to her absence.
“They’re firing me. I know it. Disguising this whole mess as some sort of forced vacation time,” Lily had told Lincoln twenty minutes after her kiss-off meeting with the partners. “They say I need a break.”
“I don’t disagree.” When Lily frowned at her colleague, he shrugged, Lincoln’s usual nonchalance. He was nice enough, but never sugar coated a thing, even after Lily blew him off. They’d gone on one date. It was awkward, a total disaster because Lincoln loved talking about himself, crowing about his accomplishments like he was reciting his resume and not there to enjoy her company.
Looking at him now, Lily suspected his sudden bout of support for her was some half-veiled attempt to rub salt in her wounds. “You’ve been on the Reynold’s Steel case for six months. The merger wouldn’t have happened without your help. Well, you and me, I should say. You’ve got intelligence, you’ve got grit and the client thinks you’re amazing.” She shrugged again, waving a hand to dismiss the complement he gave her. “But if Ellis wants you to have a break, it’s because he sees how tired you are.” Lily might have given Lincoln some allowances, but when he pointed to his own under-eye, Lily got annoyed. She didn’t need him pointing out how shitty she looked with those bags under her eyes.
“Is there a point?”
Lincoln sighed, head shaking. “Come on, Campbell. Take the vacation. Enjoy yourself. Give it a few weeks and it’ll all blow over, I’m sure.” He gripped her shoulder, patting it once as he watched her. His gaze lowered, focused on her mouth and Lily had to repress a shudder. He did that from time to time, forgetting that she’d repeatedly told her she wasn’t interested. Sometimes he forgot. Either that or he didn’t think she was serious with her rejection.
Lincoln wasn’t unattractive: good eyes—hazel—and dimples in both cheeks, fit body. He looked more like an athlete than an attorney, but there was something missing in his eyes—something that made him seem closed off and distant. He was fit, athl
etic, if not big and brawny like most of the men she tended to attract.
It was a remnant of her childhood. New Orleans was diverse, culturally rich, but living on Oahu, surrounded by surfers and fire dancers and a wealth of culture and beauty, left a mark she’d never been able to let go of completely. Lincoln couldn’t have been further from her type, but he was still okay, when he wasn’t trying to edge in on her cases.
“I tell you what,” he started, pulling out his cell, “I’ve got a little cabin up in the mountains in Gatlinburg. You’ve been there, you know what it’s like. I don’t have to sell it.” His smile widened when Lily didn’t flinch from his knuckle under her chin. “I’ll text you the address and have my assistant book a flight for you. Less than half a day you’ll be on Douglas Lake relaxing at my cabin.”
Though Lily was skeptical of this new, generous, what-is-he-plotting Lincoln, the offer was tempting. She had taken Zee to Gatlinburg once, the summer after she graduated high school. Her niece hadn’t had any interest in a senior trip with her friends and they both loved the mountains, the treks and trails up to the falls in the Smokies. Lily had never known about Lincoln’s cabin, but it didn’t surprise her. Lots of lawyers in their firm spent time in the Smokies. He’d probably had that cabin just to keep up. But, Douglas Lake was away from the tourists and reminded Lily of happier times. Times when Zee was still with her. Times when work and Lily’s career hadn’t overtaken her entire world.
But to take Lincoln up on this offer might give him the wrong idea about her—and there were already too many wrong ideas about Lily roaming around her office.
“Lincoln, that’s very nice, but…”
“Think nothing of it.” That grip on her shoulder tightened when he squeezed it, and the muscles around Lincoln’s jaw tightened, as though he had to force the expression to keep on his face. “Not a big deal, really.”
Lily gave him no definitive answer as she packed up her office and left him at the elevator. There were too many thoughts, too many worries occupying her mind. But Lincoln wouldn’t mind. She’d explain later, she promised herself.
Funny thing about Lily—she had a gift for breaking promises.
Chapter Three
Lily thought about Lincoln’s offer. She’d always liked the mountains, and Gatlinburg was beautiful this time of year. The leaves might be beginning to turn if it had been cool in September, and if she stayed there long enough, she might catch an early snowstorm. It had been years since she’d seen one.
Her cell was in her hand, thumb hovering over the keyboard ready to type a reply to Lincoln’s second text in the past half hour. He wanted an answer. She understood. He had things to confirm if she agreed to use his cabin on Douglas Lake. But what would Lincoln expect in return? There had to be a motive. Lawyers always had motives, but Lily didn’t know what Lincoln’s would be.
She sat on the wedge-back chair next to the bay window of the Ace Hotel bar, purse in the crook of her elbow and her feet bouncing as she thought of replying to the text. But a small group of men entered the lobby and came right into the bar, settling on the stools, their voices deep and booming and their profiles—strong jaws, finely sharp cheekbones distracted Lily from doing anything but gawking. Two of the men, in particular, were even larger than the bartender, one with the muscular back of an athlete and the one at his side looking like a miniature of that large frame, but still extensive in both size and stature. The third man seemed like the odd man out, thin, but wiry, skin pale, a striking contrast of the dark complexion of his bar mates.
Despite the pleasant view, Lily put them out of her mind, nodding to the bartender as she approached the side of the counter. “Check?” he asked her, setting two beers in front of the largest man and his pale friend. With a side-glance, Lily could tell the third man was no man at all—at least not yet. His eyes were bright and his face lineless. He was big, but from the small smattering of blemishes along his cheeks, she could tell he was a teenager.
“Please,” Lily answered, digging in her bag as a distraction. Those booming voices had gone a little quiet.
“First time in the city?” the pale guy asked, and Lily looked up at him, shaking her head as she smiled.
“Sure is and I’m all set to show my boobs for fifty cent beads. That what you want to hear?” she said without thinking. Lily still hadn’t learned to mind her insults. It was a process, she told herself. A long one, apparently. When the bartender handed over the receipt, and the other side of the bar stayed silent, she bit her tongue, exhaling. “No, I’m local,” she amended.
She didn’t watch his reaction or hear what he said to his friends. She’d been an asshole and didn’t want that confirmed in a glare from a stranger. For a second she put them all out of her mind, ready to get back to her condo and pack a bag for the mountains. Lily decided she might as well take Lincoln up on his offer. She’d think about his motives later, but then one of the men across the bar slapped his hand to the surface and laughed, his voice light when he said, “Smart mouth, sharp tongue. Lily Campbell. I knew it.”
She jerked her gaze to the man and the tension that she’d worn in her shoulders since the meeting with the partners dimmed. “Oh God,” she said, smiling as Kona Hale stood from the stool. “Holy shit!”
“Lord, Lil, how are you?” Kona asked, coming around the bar to offer her a hug and kiss on the cheek. His smile was wide and there was a brightness in his eyes she hadn’t seen in years. Not since before that night at Tommy’s. Kona held her hand, head shaking as though he couldn’t believe she stood in front of him and then he lifted his eyebrows, seeming to just remember they weren’t alone. “I’m sorry,” he said, stepping back to pat the younger man on the shoulder. “This is my son, Ransom.” His boy smiled, offering Lily his hand. “Lily is from Oahu. She went to school with Dado and Keilen.”
“Were you guys Red Raiders? I forgot where Dado said he went,” Ransom asked, his expression looking excited.
“Not Kahuku, no,” Lily told him, smiling as she remembered Kona’s cousin Dado. He’d always been wild, but very sweet. Their family was known around Kaimuki as kind and very generous. “We went to Kaimuki. The Bulldogs, but I only watched rugby. It was bloodier.”
The boy nodded, and Lily got a good look at him, unconvinced that Kona could have such a grown kid. “My God, Kona, that’s some strong genes you’ve got there.” The boy’s face was nearly identical to Kona’s, same cleft in the chin, same dark eyes. But the details were different, and the longer she stared, the more Lily realized who the kid reminded her of. Lily looked the boy over again, smile shifting, widening as she saw his father in those features, his uncle Luka as well and…Keilen. Sweet Keilen, but when he smiled, when he stood straighter, right next to his father, Lily was struck by memory. Memory and sadness.
“He looks so much like…” She stopped herself, the smile she wore faltering as she looked between Kona and his boy. “I’m sorry,” she tried, shaking her head at her own stupidity. Luka had been just as beautiful as Kona’s boy, but he was gone. Lily was sure neither of them wanted a reminder.
“It’s fine,” Kona said, waving off her apology. “He’s got a little of us both and my wife, Keira.”
“That’s right,” Lily said, the smile returning when she remembered seeing something on ESPN about Kona’s whirlwind marriage to his college sweetheart. “I heard about that. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” His answer came with humor, like Kona was thrilled and little drunk on whatever it was that made him smile. It struck Lily, just then, that he looked happy. Really happy, happier than she’d seen anyone in years. No one in the city, not in the circles she ran in, was ever that open, that real with their expressions. There’d be smiles, there’d even be laughter, but she’d never thought any of it was genuine. Like Luka, like his cousin Keilen, Kona was never much good at hiding his feelings and just then, with his boy watching, with his friend playing on his phone ignoring the world, Lily realized Kona was shameless with how happy he
was. She envied him.
“You look…happy.”
“Oh, God,” Ransom said, earning an eye roll from his father. He reminded Lily just then of his age, how the thought of his father besotted, especially with his mother was likely irritating and embarrassing. But Ransom didn’t make his own smile lower despite the exaggerated eye roll. Instead, he shook his head, tapping their pale friend on the back as he spoke to his father.
“Kona, I’ll take Brian to the restaurant if you wanna catch up.” His father nodded, smile never lowering, and the boy took Lily’s hand. “It was nice to meet you.” And he winked at Lily, reminded her of the boys from the island and that special Hale/Rivers DNA that seemed alive and well in Kona’s kid.
“Oh, you are in deep water with that one,” Lily said, laughing when Ransom looked over his shoulder, smile still broad and flirty as he led their friend from the bar.
“You don’t have to tell me.” Kona motioned for the bartender to join them as he and Lily both took a stool. “He’s sixteen.” He leaned against the bar nodding to the young guy who approached on the other side. “I’ll take another Guinness and the lady…”
“Another bourbon?” the bartender asked Lily.
“That’ll do.”
“So,” Kona said, looking Lily over like he wasn’t quite sure she was really there. “I think the last time I saw you, my cousin had somehow convinced you to sneak out of Tiki Tommy’s with him.”
Her smile shook. She hadn’t needed that much convincing. She’d have followed Keilen anywhere. Until, the entire night, hell, her entire life, got interrupted.
“I’d never seen Keilen smile so wide. I thought for sure you two would…” Kona stopped speaking and closed his eyes as though the memory of that night, of what had halted Lily’s night with Keilen came back to him. The big man rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’m so sorry. It was a long time ago, and I forgot…”