The Hot Sergeant (Second Chance Military Romance) (Hargrave Brothers - Book #2)

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The Hot Sergeant (Second Chance Military Romance) (Hargrave Brothers - Book #2) Page 48

by Alexa Davis


  I was tired now, in a good way. I knew I would sleep much better tonight with her in my arms. I also knew that I had to get Marjorie out of my life soon or I’d lose Alicia, and I couldn’t let that happen.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ALICIA

  Monday morning came too soon as far as I was concerned. I woke up to Adam dressing in the dark. “Are you leaving? What time is it?” I asked him groggily.

  “It’s early, babe. You still have a while to sleep. I have to go home to shower and change before I go into the office. I have an early meeting with Miles Brigham IV this morning. I need to be at the top of my game.”

  I sat up and motioned him towards me with my finger. When he leaned down, I whispered,

  “You’re always at the top of your game, love. You proved it last night.”

  He grinned and kissed me on my lips. “You don’t make it easy for a man to leave, that’s for sure,” he said, “But unfortunately, I have to go. Good luck in court today, by the way. I’ll call you later to see how it’s going.”

  I sighed. “Okay, good luck to you, too, and remember – Brigham can’t do this without you. You’re the best attorney in this city and he knows it. Don’t let him try to intimidate you.”

  “No one intimidates Adam Hanson,” he said with another grin.

  “Good,” I told him as I snuggled back down for a couple more hours sleep. “No one should.” He kissed me once more on my forehead before he left. I lay there before falling asleep, thinking I was the luckiest girl in the world that Adam loved me. I had all but forgotten the argument we had the night of the ball.

  ********

  Kyla and I both arrived at the courthouse within minutes of each other. Nico showed up as we were climbing the stairs. He was balancing a cardboard tray with four cups of steaming coffee in one hand and a briefcase full of legal briefs in the other.

  “Here, let me help you,” Kyla said, taking one of the cups out of the tray and taking a long sip from it. Nico gave her a look and said,

  “Gee, thanks. My load is so much lighter now.”

  “No problem,” Kyla said playfully.

  “Here,” I said, taking the tray from his hand.

  “Thank you, Ms. Winston,” Nico said with a mock bow.

  Kyla and I exchanged a look as Nico went on ahead up the stairs. Maybe Nico hadn’t indulged in too much champagne to recall our kiss the other night. I had to shake that off for now, though. I had a client depending on me and right now that was my priority. We made our way through the busy courthouse to a conference room we had reserved for the day. Nelson was already there. He was dressed in a nice suit as we told him to wear and had removed the jewelry he normally wore in the piercings in both his face and ears. His hair was dyed back to its normal shade of brown from the platinum blonde it had been bleached at the time of his arrest. I looked him over and said,

  “Wow, Nelson, you look wonderful. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

  Nelson mumbled a simple, “Thanks.” His dress and grooming exuded confidence and poise, but one look at the boy’s face told just how anxious he was about the trial that was about to begin. I sat one of the cardboard coffee cups down in front of him.

  “Maybe a double shot of caffeine will help your mood this morning.”

  Nelson mumbled another thanks and picked up the cup. He didn’t drink; he just rolled it between his palms.

  Nico sat across from the boy and said, “You understand what is happening today, right?” He waited a beat, and when Nelson didn’t respond, he continued, “Alicia and Kyla have drawn up a motion to suppress the confession. All you have to do today is tell the truth. Tell the judge that you did ask for a lawyer before they even began questioning you.”

  Nelson looked up at him. I didn’t like the defeat he already had in his eyes. “Technically, what I said was, ‘Isn’t my lawyer supposed to be here?’ I guess I should have insisted on it.”

  “No, they should have stopped right there and let you call us. They didn’t do that. Instead, they ignored what you said and continued on with the interrogation. That’s not acceptable.”

  Nelson sighed. “I didn’t do this, you know? I didn’t take money from those people. I don’t understand why they would say I did.”

  Nico looked at me. I took my cue and sitting on the other side of Nelson, I said, “Campos Investments lost millions of dollars when your father refused to sign off on the shoddy construction that Limitless Construction Company was doing on hotels. They did their best to run your father out of business over it, but his standing in the community was too strong. Their only recourse was revenge. If they can get a court to convict you of accepting bribes in order for your father to sign off on unsafe construction sites, they can ruin your dad’s good name, and their hope is that the result would be running your dad out of business.”

  “I get that,” Nelson said in a whiney voice, “but why me? Why not set up Dad?”

  “Your father’s reputation for honesty is what has made his company so successful. They knew that no one would believe he had done this, so they turned to the next best fall guy: his son.” I tried to keep the confident look on my face and in my eyes when Nelson asked his next question,

  “I was the perfect fall guy because my reputation is the opposite of my dad’s, right?”

  “We’re going to do all we can to keep your past from being allowed into this, okay?” Nelson nodded, none too convincingly, and I asked him, “Are you ready?” he nodded again as Nico and I stood up. Nelson rubbed his face over his hands and looked up at us again. Looking very much like a child, he said,

  “Please don’t let them put me in jail. I couldn’t stand being locked up.”

  Although our legal team was made up of three of the best and brightest young attorneys Hanson had to offer, none of us wanted to make promises that we might be unable to keep. Instead, Kyla put her hand

  gently on his arm and said,

  “Come on; let’s go get this confession thrown out.”

  ********

  Kyla, Nico and I celebrated our first victory over lunch. Judge Nolan had agreed that saying “Shouldn’t my lawyer be here?” was a statement the police should have explored more with Nelson. The top of Dawson’s bald little head had been bright red with anger by the time we were through with him. I held that vision in my head as I danced back into the office that afternoon – and ran smack dab into Marjorie. Shit.

  “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry,” I said. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.” Marjorie stepped back and looked me up and down as if seeing me for the first time, even though we had met before. She adjusted the lapels of her designer jacket that Adam’s money had bought and said in an irritated voice,

  “Obviously,” and then with a weary sigh added, “But I suppose I could expect nothing less from employees of the buffoon that runs this place. Excuse me…”

  I stood dumbfounded by the woman’s rudeness and watched her leave. I shook my head, unable to comprehend what Adam must have ever seen in her in the first place. Maybe she was softer once, when she was younger. Some people just find it impossible to age with grace, my mother used to say. I had a feeling that Marjorie was one of those women. I had been close enough to her today to notice the taut lines of her jaw and the complete absence of any lines around her eyes or on her forehead. Adam’s money had paid a fortune for that harsh, expressionless face. I shuddered. No matter what she may have once been, the simple fact now was that the woman was insufferable.

  I tried to shake off the encounter and return to my earlier pleasant state of mind as I went in search of Adam to tell him about our victory. As I rounded the corner from the long hall that led to the executive offices, I saw Mary, Adam’s personal assistant, closing the heavy oak doors that led to the executive conference room behind her.

  “Hi, Mary,” I said. “Is Mr. Hanson in a conference?”

  Mary smiled at me, and I couldn’t help thinking that the smile caused Mary’s face to crinkle in all th
e right places, making her look radiant. I liked her and appreciated that she was almost always in a pleasant mood, which was definitely a breath of fresh air after my little run-in with Marjorie.

  “Hi, Alicia, yes he’s in there with Mr. Brigham, Mr. Fritz, and a few other men from Brigham Oil Company. It’s getting pretty intense. I was going to get some refreshments in hopes of lightening up the room.”

  I smiled back at her. “If anyone can do it, it’s you, Mary. I can see why Mr. Hanson has kept you at his side for so long, you keep him sane. Would you mind asking him to call or come by my office when he’s finished? I have a case I’d like to discuss.” It wasn’t really a lie. I did want to talk to him about the case. I also wanted to kiss him. My face colored at the thought, as if Mary could read my mind. I would be so happy when Adam and I could stop pretending. Stretching the facts during the course of a case to save a client didn’t bother me much, but telling an outright lie to someone I considered a friend went against everything I had been raised to believe, and it seemed like I’d had to do that a lot lately.

  Once I got back to my own desk, my receptionist handed me a pile of messages. “Thank you, Carla.”

  “You’re welcome; how did court go?” she asked as she followed me into my office.

  “Great!” I told her with a smile. “We got the confession thrown out. Without that, the rest is all hearsay and should be easy to discredit.”

  “Good!” Carla said with real enthusiasm. “Mr. Dawson called a few minutes before you walked in. He gives me the creeps a little, but anyways, he said he urgently needed you to call him as soon as you walked in.”

  “You know what?” I told her with my lip curled, “He gives me the creeps, too. I’ll call him…in a while. Thanks, Carla,”

  “You’re welcome Ms. Winston. Let me know if you need anything.” Carla closed the door as she left, and I sat down at the desk to begin sorting through my messages. Most were from clients who were anxious to discuss one aspect of our case or other. As I sifted through the rectangular squares of pink paper, a familiar name caught my eye. The message said, While You Were Out—Jack Grant called.

  I did a double take at the name. It was one that I hadn’t seen or heard in a message for quite some time. Jack and I had been very close friends since kindergarten. As we grew into adulthood, we had ultimately gone from being friends to being lovers. It was great for a while and I had felt blessed that my boyfriend was also my best friend. The excitement of it fizzled out quickly, though, and eventually, we both had to admit that we were better as friends than we were as a couple. We had managed to stay friends, and once I moved to the States, I had really meant to keep in touch and maintain our friendship, but life interrupted my plans.

  I had heard most recently about him from my mother, who told me that Jack was in a relationship with a woman from the Country Club her and my father had been members of for decades. She said it seemed serious. I remember her telling me that with a frown. She’d been most disappointed when he and I had stopped seeing each other. He came from old money. His parents were very active in the community and my mother and his worked together on many of our charity projects. The Lady Winston had high hopes that I would one day be Mrs. Jack Grant.

  I snapped out of my memories and back into the present looking back at the slip in my hand, the number was a local one – not in Europe but right here in New York. I reached to pick up the phone just as it began to ring. I picked it up without waiting for it to roll over to Carla.

  “Alicia Winston.”

  “Alicia, darling, it’s Robert,” came the sleazy little voice from the other side. Feigning ignorance for the sake of insulting him and no other, I almost felt a little ashamed of myself as I said,

  “Robert?” with an obvious question mark at the end,

  “Dawson, Robert Dawson!” he said, obviously offended. “Surely you haven’t forgotten me already.”

  “Oh, Mr. Dawson, I’m so sorry. Of course I haven’t forgotten you. Your first name just threw me off. How can I help you?”

  “I want to throw out an offer for that juvenile delinquent in a man’s body your firm is representing. What say we meet for a drink and talk about it?”

  I almost laughed aloud, but I caught myself. For the sake of Nelson and the other clients I represented, I couldn’t afford to insult him outright.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Dawson, but I have a full plate this afternoon. Perhaps you can tell me what you are offering and I can pass it on to my client.”

  Dawson cleared his throat and the tone of his voice changed to borderline hostile as he said, “I suppose you big time corporate lawyers fancy yourselves better than the average lawyer, too good to slum it with the prosecutor who could maybe make your life easier if you gave him the chance.”

  I was silent. I was sorely tempted to give this nasty little man a piece of my mind. How dare he try to suggest that I would even consider trading favors with the likes of him? When I didn’t reply after a few moments, he said, “But anyways, tell that little rich boy you represent that I am offering five years if he pleads guilty to misdemeanor accepting a bribe.”

  “Five years? Are you serious?” I asked, almost certain I had heard him wrong or he had made a mistake.

  “He can get ten if the jury convicts at trial,” Dawson said.

  “He can get nothing if we get an acquittal,” I said with confidence in my voice. “I think we’ll take our chances.”

  “Okay, but don’t forget to offer it to your client. He might want to save himself and his family some embarrassment and skip the trial.”

  “Oh, I won’t forget, but don’t lose any sleep waiting for me to call you back on it. My client didn’t do anything wrong. He doesn’t want to plead guilty to anything, and he won’t accept any jail time. You have a nice day, Mr. Dawson,” I said, emphasizing the “Mr.” to make sure he knew we were more foe than friend. After my conversation with Dawson, I was no longer in the mood to call Jack for a reunion chat. Instead, I buzzed Adam’s office.

  “Yes?”

  “Hi, are you busy?”

  “No, just unwinding after that awful meeting.”

  “I take it all didn’t go well?”

  “I don’t know. Brigham seems to think we are miracle workers, instead of lawyers. He wants us to run off the press and calm the politicians. Alex is working his magic on the politician angle for us, but I’m not sure what to do about the press at this point.”

  Alex was Alex Fritz. He was Adam’s best friend from college and currently one of the front runners for the Democratic seat that had recently opened up in the House of Representatives. Alex was strongly connected in the political community and even had ties to the White House. He was helping Adam to connect with the people involved in the scandal over Brigham being one of the President’s lead campaign funders. He was also charged with the task of severing the ties between the currently offending oil company and the presidential campaign.

  “Anyways, how did your morning in court turn out?” he asked me.

  “It was great! The judge agreed that the confession was bogus since Nelson had mentioned his attorney and threw it out. Then, just a few moments ago, the world’s sleaziest prosecutor called and offered us a deal.”

  “Great! Was the deal something you think Nelson will consider?”

  “Absolutely not, he’s offering five years if Nelson pleads to conspiracy to accept a bribe. Nelson will never go for it. But, it does mean that Dawson is nervous. He knows that without the confession, his case is on shaky ground or he wouldn’t have offered anything.”

  “True,” Adam said thoughtfully. “He could get ten years or more if we do convict, you know.”

  “Yes, I do know that. I won’t play games with his life, but I won’t see him locked up for five years for doing nothing more than being a spoiled little rich boy.”

  “I respect that,” Adam told her. “By the way, are you free for dinner?”

  “With you? Always,” I said with a grin. “
Your place or mine?”

  “How about Romaletti’s?” Adam said, surprising me.

  “Romaletti’s, really? Is this a business dinner?” I asked suspiciously.

  “No, it’s an ‘I’m tired of pretending, too’ dinner. The hell with Marjorie and the hell with her lawyer, I want to take my gorgeous girlfriend out for dinner. That is, if she’d like to go with me.”

  “I would love that, thank you!” I told him with real enthusiasm,

  “No, thank you,” he said. “I realized today after another exhausting and volatile conversation with Marjorie that you’re right. She's probably not going away any time soon. I’m going to try like hell to stop letting her get in the way of my life, of our life.”

  I was ecstatic to hear it. We made plans to meet in Adam’s office later since we both still had piles of work to do. I called Nico and a paralegal named Sarah into my office and we spent the rest of the day working on Nelson’s case. Kyla came in later after I finished prepping for a real estate case I was working on. The message from Jack was put on the back burner of my things to do list as I shuffled through motions and briefs and looked forward to my first public dinner with Adam that was not work related.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ADAM

  The rest of my day after I finally manned up and told Alicia I wanted to take her out to dinner flew by. It dawned on me all at once that I was sick to death of sneaking around like I was cheating on someone. My marriage with Marjorie had been over for years before we finally separated. We had been separated for six months before Alicia and I ever started seeing each other. We weren’t doing anything wrong, and I was tired of feeling like we were. Besides, the thoughts I’d had this morning about Alicia getting tired of it all and leaving me had haunted me all day. It would crush me to lose her.

 

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