by Juniper Hart
He trailed off, and Rose waited for him to continue.
“You think what?” she finally demanded. “Seriously, Dad, I have to go. Say what you have to say.”
“I just don’t understand why you’re intentionally making this difficult. Is it because I married her? Did she do something to you? Is there some kind of vendetta you have against her? Is it because you don’t like the fact that we’re happy together?”
Rose’s mouth dropped open and she began to laugh.
“You think I’m jealous of your relationship?” she giggled. “Are you insane?”
“I wish that you would take on a little bit less from the firm and focus more on your social life, honey,” Clive said. “You should be looking to settle down and—”
“Okay, thanks, Dad,” Rose snapped, not laughing anymore. “I gotta go.”
Furious, she hung up the phone. For a long moment, she sat in her car, shaking her short red bob in disbelief.
Is he for real? What bullshit is that woman feeding him?
The air was growing hot and stagnant, and Rose opened the car door to allow for the chilly evening wind to cool her face.
Now my own father pities me for being single, she thought. That is the saddest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. He’s married to that bitch and pitying me for being alone. That is rich.
What was sadder was that Rose wondered if he might be right.
I’m perfectly happy, she told herself, unlocking her front door and pushing past Sadie. I don’t need a man to validate me. I don’t need to get married or have kids. Who the hell does he think he is?
She wrenched open the fridge and pulled out a bottle of white wine, pouring a glass to the brim before chugging half of it back in one swallow. She was livid at the exchange, and she wanted to strike the conversation from her head as if it had never happened.
Sadie meowed.
“You’ve got it made. You’re a cat,” Rose informed the animal.
The feline purred in response.
“No worries for you except when you’re getting treats, or when your litter box is being changed. You don’t have to worry about anything but—”
“Ah, you’re one of those crazy ladies that talks to your cat, huh?”
Rose whirled and peered at Julian, who had just walked into the kitchen, holding a pile of papers in his arms.
“I only have one cat,” she told him, as if to protest his argument.
“That’s how it all starts,” he said, managing to take the wine bottle from her. “One cat, then two, then five, they have kittens, and suddenly you’re wearing a cardigan and having your sister move in with you.”
Am I a crazy cat lady? Rose wondered. Am I destined to be single and talking to my cat?
She put her empty glass of wine on the kitchen table and watched as Julian put the wine bottle and files down beside her glass.
Wanting to prove to herself that she could have a companion if she wanted one, she lunged at him, encircling her hands in his dark hair. Julian seemed taken aback, but before he had a chance to respond, Rose pressed her mouth to his.
“I—uh… what is this?” he murmured, his eyes wide with happy surprise.
“Just shut up,” she told him, her lips finding his again.
They embraced, Julian’s kisses instantly growing hot, and Rose closed her emerald eyes, blocking out the misdeed she was performing.
Julian’s hand found her red strands and he pulled her throat back, exposing it for his kisses. She unfastened the buttons on her shirt as his mouth moved lower, tossing her blouse to the floor, her hand guiding his head lower.
His hands reached around, grabbing her small but firm rear and propping her onto the counter as he nuzzled her breasts. She wrapped her calves about his waist and drew him close, goosebumps tickling her body as his mouth found her nipple.
Julian slipped her lace panties down below her skirt, undoing his pants in the process, and then he unexpectedly yanked Rose down from the counter, whirling her around to push his hardness against her naked buttocks. Gasping, Rose’s eyes grew wide at the sheer size of him, and she coyly peered at him over her shoulder.
He bit on his lower lip, stretching forward to kiss her again on her mouth.
Then he plunged inside of her, filling her fully from behind, and Rose cried out, grasping the granite countertop with manicured hands.
Slowly, he made circles with his hips, Rose arching against him, urging him to increase his speed. He took the hint and they fell into a deep, penetrating rhythm, each thrust causing Rose to cry out. His hands cupped her breasts and she could feel his sack slap against her center.
As he gently squeezed her nipples, Rose felt herself begin to tremble and she bucked wildly, ready to release.
Harder Julian jabbed until she could take no more. Rose screamed out in ecstasy, hot waves emanating through her body, and Julian grunted, his own hot juices meeting hers in unison.
Over and over they spilled until Julian fell onto her, pinning her against the counter in a breathless pile.
See? I have companionship, Rose thought with some bitterness.
But as Julian withdrew from her, she was filled with a sense of guilt.
What an incredibly stupid thing to do, she thought, fixing her outfit. I hope he knows that this doesn’t mean anything at all.
“Hey,” Julian said as she started to button her shirt up.
“Hm?” She gazed at him quickly, offering him a half smile.
“I have been wanting to ask you out since the first minute I saw you. I just never thought you were interested.”
“Oh, yeah?” she breathed.
“I’m really glad we’re getting together,” he told her sincerely.
Rose stared at him for a long while, her heart pounding. Well done, Rosie. You made a bad situation completely unmanageable.
Chapter Four
The roses arrived the following day, and Jersey skipped into Rose’s office, grinning like an idiot.
“Special delivery for you,” she cooed, holding out a card for Rose to read. Her heart began to pound as she peered around the chubby blonde and looked into the hallway, where she half expected Julian to be lurking.
She had gently kicked him out the previous night, her gut rolling around with sickness as she understood the repercussions of what she had done.
What the hell got into you? Rose asked herself, still mortified that she had allowed for the situation to escalate like that. She had never been interested in Julian. Not once had she looked at him and thought, “Gee, I wonder what he’s like in the sack.”
Rose knew what had gotten into her: anger and loneliness. Neither of them were excuses for what had happened the previous night, but she knew that’s how the spontaneous sex came to fruition.
She admitted to herself that she’d had a really good time and that the experience hadn’t been a write-off, but she didn’t want to lead Julian on. She had told him under no uncertain terms that it was to be a one-time thing and he seemed to accept that, kissing her on the cheek and promising to see her the next day at the office.
Unexpectedly, there were now roses in her office. Four dozen, in fact.
“Who are they from?” Jersey asked.
“I don’t know,” Rose lied, beginning to feel as if she were going to vomit. “But I would rather open this privately.”
Jersey’s face turned ashen.
“Oh.”
She spun, trying to hide the hurt expression on her face, but Rose saw it, and the guilt was almost insurmountable. She and Jersey had a friendly relationship, but Rose didn’t want Jersey to find out that she’d slept with Julian.
Sighing, she sat back and tore open the card, half expecting Julian to appear, grinning stupidly. To her relief, he didn’t.
Rose pulled open the greeting from its envelope, and her heart stopped when she saw the words written on it.
To the most beautiful lawyer in the world. Have dinner with me tonight. DVG.
Rose stared at it in disbelief.
Has he lost his mind, too? Has the entire world gone mad?
As if on cue, the office phone rang, and Rose snatched it up without thinking.
“Rose Bridgemont.”
“Hello, Rose.”
Derek Van Gould’s undeniable voice answered her, and Rose resisted the urge to slam to phone down. There was her apprehension again, making her feel like she was being watched.
“Rose? Are you there?”
“Yes, Mr. Van Gould. How can I help you?” She tried to keep her voice cold and professional, but she could hear the waver as she spoke.
“Did you get my small gift?” he asked.
Rose rolled her eyes. His “small gift” had probably set him back three hundred dollars.
“The flowers are lovely, Mr. Van Gould, but a little bit inappropriate.”
He laughed, and Rose got the distinct impression he was mocking her.
“Since when is it inappropriate to send a thank you gift to my son’s attorney?”
Should I begin to list the things wrong with that question? Rose asked herself, but she didn’t. “Mr. Van Gould—”
“Please, call me Derek. We will be spending a lot of time together, after all.”
She glared at the phone, willing herself to be calm. “Derek, it wasn’t necessary to send such a gift. That is what the retainer is for.”
“Ah, but does the retainer include dinner at the Gold Papaya?”
“I’m sorry, Mr.—”
“Derek,” he interrupted her.
“Derek,” Rose continued, “but it would be unethical for me to get involved with a witness in a case. Thank you for the flowers.”
There was a long silence, and Rose could feel his displeasure radiating through the phone. It was obvious that Derek Van Gould was not accustomed to hearing the word “no” often.
“I see,” he drawled slowly. “Well, what if I want to talk to you about my son’s case?”
Rose chewed on her lower lip. It was a transparent excuse, no doubt, but she did need his influence on her side. If Chase was going to be contrary, she needed Derek to help her keep him in line.
“Do you have something you want to talk to me about?” she sighed, hating herself for falling into his snare.
“Fantastic! I will pick you up at seven.”
“Oh, I don’t think I can do it tonight!”
“Why not? Do you have more pressing cases?” he taunted.
Rose stifled a groan. Three days ago, I was just an overworked lawyer who only answered to an irritated cat. Today I’m answering to everyone but the cat. Maybe I can use Sadie as an excuse to bail tonight.
She was suddenly plagued with the image of Julian mocking her about talking to the feline.
God, I’m the crazy cat lady! I’m even thinking about her when a man is asking me to dinner!
“Seven o’clock at your house,” Derek said.
“At my house?” A smidgen of panic flittered through Rose. “How do you know where I live?”
The laugh she heard through the phone was low and dry. It didn’t alleviate her concern in the slightest.
“Rose, you will learn that not much happens in Riverton without my knowledge,” he replied.
“I will still be at the office at seven though,” she protested. “Just come to the office.”
Again, there was a sonorous chuckle.
“Something tells me you’re not wearing a little black number to the office today, Rose. I expect you to look the part if I’m going to spend the money on you.”
A barrage of icy comebacks sprang to Rose’s lips, but she forced them all down.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” she said, “you cannot buy me and you certainly cannot expect me to dress a certain way for you.” Regretting that she said anything because it was her firm’s most important client, she reluctantly agreed. “Fine. Seven o’clock at my house.”
He hung up without saying goodbye, leaving Rose to question her decision.
“Nice flowers.”
She raised her eyes as Julian sauntered into the office.
“Thanks,” she replied, offering him nothing else. “What have you got?”
“I’ve got very little,” he confessed, eyeing the mini flower shop in her office. “But I’m beginning to wonder if the eye witness testimony is deliberately intended to be conflicting.”
Rose peered up at him, cocking her head to the side. “Come again?”
“Here, look at this,” he said, sliding into the chair across the desk and shoving some papers toward her. “Yesterday, I told you that Casey Logan and Jasmin Cortez gave opposite accounts of what happened.”
Rose nodded quickly, swallowing her shame. They had gotten nothing accomplished after their tryst.
Rose had proceeded to get incredibly drunk, hoping to block out what she had done. The only thing she had succeeded in doing was waking up still drunk at seen in the morning. She was shocked that no one had commented on her appearance.
I’m going to have to get a Bloody Mary for lunch, Rose vowed.
She also realized that she was going to need all the extra alcohol she could get before meeting the arrogant Derek Van Gould for dinner.
I’m going to start day drinking and be properly trashed for meeting Van Gould this evening, she corrected.
The plan inspired a small, conspiratorial smile onto her lips.
“Well, it’s not just their statements. It seems like they are intentionally contradicting one another,” Julian continued.
“For what purpose?” Rose demanded. “To help Chase? Or to protect someone else?”
“Not sure.”
“What are the detectives saying?” she questioned.
“They are saying that the boys are guilty, of course. It’s an open and shut case for them.”
“Well, go pay them a visit and see if you can get your hands on the interrogation tapes,” Rose said.
“It should be in discovery when the time comes,” Julian protested, but Rose shook her head.
“I don’t care about what was said. I want to see which ones were lying. I have a discerning eye for that.”
Julian sat back. “Yeah, me too,” he said.
Rose exhaled deeply. “Close the door, Julian,” she said. He half turned and swiped at the glass portal with a hand. “Listen—” Rose started.
Julian’s eyes flashed with anger. “Let me guess,” he interjected. “Last night meant nothing. You were having a fight with your boyfriend and now you two have made up. Is that basically it?”
Startled, Rose shook her head. “No,” she replied quickly. “I don’t have a boyfriend, Julian.”
His eyes seemed to lose their suspicion.
“Oh,” he muttered. “Sorry, I just assume the worst all the time. Occupational hazard, I guess.”
“Julian, that’s just it,” Rose said. “We work together. We can’t go there, okay? Last night was a mistake and I take full responsibility for it.”
Julian’s mouth became a fine line.
“So what if we work together?” he demanded, his fair face growing red with indignation. “What does that have to do with anything?”
Rose gazed at him, her eyes narrowing. “Because I don’t mix business with my personal life, Julian.”
He scowled, springing to his feet. “It didn’t seem to bother you last night. That’s why you called me over, isn’t it? To have sex? What, I wasn’t good enough for you?”
“Keep your voice down!” Rose hissed, also rising. “Do you see what I mean? If this is how you act after one meaningless night of sex—”
“It wasn’t meaningless to me!” he gasped.
Rose felt suffocated by shame. She choked it down and maintained a stoic expression on her face.
“That is your problem, not mine,” she said with a huff.
Julian’s mouth dropped open and he gaped at her, seeming to be at a loss for words. Without speaking, he spun and left the office, slamming the do
or closed on his way out.
A moment later, Jersey gently opened the door and poked her head inside.
“What’s he yelling about?” the paralegal asked, and Rose shook her head quickly.
“The case.”
“Oh, yeah?” Jersey asked, looking dubious. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard Julian raise his voice, much less like that.”
“What do you want, Jersey?” Rose snapped. “I have work to do.”
Jersey’s blue eyes became slits, and Rose could almost read her thoughts.
She is wondering when I became such a bitch, she realized. Well, she and Julian can compare notes on that subject at the water cooler.
“Sorry,” Jersey muttered.
She was gone before Rose could apologize.
After this stupid case is done, I’m going on vacation, no matter what Pawson says, Rose swore to herself. Getting the hell away from work and Dad and Paula.
She sat back in her chair and buried her head in her hands.
There’s no time for self-pity now, Rosie. You have a murder case to try.
She reached for the phone and called the Fremont County Prosecutor’s office in Lander.
“Patricia Belham, please.”
A moment later, she was connected to the answering machine of the prosecuting attorney for Chase’s case.
“You have reached Patricia Belham. I’m in the office today. Please leave me a message and I will return your call by the end of the business day. Thank you.”
Rose took a deep breath.
“Good morning, Ms. Belham. My name is Rose Bridgemont of Peterson and Pawson in Riverton. I’m representing Chase Van Gould, and I would like to meet with you and discuss the particulars at your convenience. Please call me at the office.” She left her numbers and email before replacing the receiver and turning back to her paperwork.
So, Rose thought to herself, sitting down at her desk. I guess I’m going to be on my own if Julian can’t overcome his hurt ego. I should ask Pawson for another investigator, but then he’s going to ask why, and that’s a whole can of worms I have no interest in opening.
She considered having Jersey go to the police station on her behalf, but truthfully, Rose had little faith in the paralegal’s abilities to do much more than take notes and type depositions.