by Zuri Day
“You tried,” Terrell responded, “but our dear sister is in a whole other category. I’m still not convinced that someone didn’t drop her off on our doorstep after spending those early formative years being raised by wolves.”
London was the youngest Drake sibling, ten years Ike’s junior and a bundle of drama from the time she was born. At thirteen, her front-page antics and headstrong defiance to parental rules had her shipped off to a prestigious boarding school. What was supposed to be a form of punishment designed to tame their wild child had the opposite effect. Just before graduating high school, she was discovered by a modeling scout and given a contract. Mere days after “Pomp and Circumstance,” she landed in Milan, dived headfirst into the party scene and continued to make headlines. During her last visit it appeared that she’d calmed down a bit. But not much.
The first course of their prix fixe meal arrived, shifting conversation from wayward women to exquisite appetizers such as beets with smoked parsnip and cocoa crumb, beef tartare with chickpeas and black olives, and smoked pork belly on a radicchio-and-pickled-apple bed. By the time desserts arrived, Terrell and Ike Sr. had all but convinced Ike Jr. that closing the Ten Drake Plaza deal was a fait accompli.
At the same time, Ike had convinced himself that love for his Ferrari was what kept Quinn on his mind. He’d also bought into the convenient illusion that Quinn and Judge Taylor were not related. Were that the case, he’d drop the suit and work out an amicable arrangement to have his car repaired. But Ike felt sure that the chances of Quinn being Glen’s daughter were none and none. There was no turning back. Quinn Taylor needed to learn a lesson. They would go to trial.
Chapter 6
Two weeks later, Ike pulled into the parking lot of the town’s municipal building ready to put the accident behind him. He’d been so immersed in the details of securing the funding from Global 100 and closing the San Francisco deal that today’s meeting had barely crossed his mind.
But Quinn had. More than he cared to admit. All the more reason to get this done. The town was small and the Drakes knew her grandmother, Maggie Newman, but Ike couldn’t imagine he and Quinn ran in the same circles. Except in passing, it was very unlikely he’d see her again. That she’d agreed to plead no contest and to the pretrial was a relief. He imagined the proceedings would be brief, repayment for the car damage and some type of probation or community service.
He entered the lobby, waved at a couple people he knew and continued across the room and down a hall to where Matthew’s assistant sat at her desk.
“Hello, Mr. Drake. Go right in. Mr. Holden has already arrived.”
“What about the defendant and her attorney?”
“Not yet, but they’re on their way.”
Ike gave a nod and opened the door to the chambers of Matthew White, the judge who’d be hearing the case. He wasn’t there. Lance was, and on his cell phone. He waved a greeting, held up a finger and continued the call. Ike sat, pulled out his phone and began to check the emails he’d ignored all morning.
Lance ended the call. “Sorry about that, Ike. I’m in the rare position of having back-to-back meetings just about all day long.”
“Business is booming, huh?”
“You might say that. Not as exciting as your life, I’m sure.”
“My life is full, but whether or not it’s exciting depends on one’s definition of the word.”
“Hey, you were this year’s grand marshal. That’s heady stuff!”
Ike chuckled. “It was an honor, but let’s face it. Paradise Cove isn’t San Francisco or LA.”
Lance began to respond but stopped when the door opened. Both men turned as attorney Joey Wang stepped back from the door to allow Quinn to enter. Ike inwardly applauded his outer expression and the ability to look passive as his insides churned. Skirt too short. Legs too long. Top too tight. Shiny stilettos that could double as stilts. In a word? She looked inappropriately dressed and amazing. Ike felt Lance rise beside him. He stood, too.
“Ms. Taylor,” he said formally as they shook hands.
“Mr. Drake,” she responded, all sugar and spice. Except for her casual attire, she was the epitome of professionalism, a total opposite of the tornado who’d whirled into his office demanding he drop all charges and pull his lawsuit.
“A positive beginning,” Joey said while looking bemused. “Let’s hope this civility continues throughout the proceedings.”
“Civil is my middle name, Joey,” Ike responded. He looked at Quinn and continued, “I’ll do my part.”
The look she returned was unreadable, but there were millions to be made if he could bottle that smile.
A side door opened. The judge entered. That he wasn’t wearing the standard black robe indicated informality. The look on his face underscored the point that informal did not mean unimportant. He walked directly to the black leather chair behind the imposing oak desk between two flags and sat down.
After taking a moment to review copies of the motions that had been placed on the desk, he began.
“Good afternoon, Attorney Wang, Attorney Holden.” They responded. “Mr. Drake.”
“Judge White.”
His voice softened. “Ms. Taylor.”
“Afternoon, Judge,” was her softly spoken reply.
“We’re here on the matter involving Ike Drake Jr. and Kristin Quinn Taylor. I have reviewed the motions set forth, and if there are no further motions or addendums thereto, am ready to render a judgment.” He looked at the attorneys.
“None here, Judge,” Lance said.
Joey shook his head.
After reading another page of legal jargon regarding Quinn’s no-contest plea, Matthew gave his decision.
“As a result of the accident and the damage sustained to Mr. Drake’s vehicle, the defendant is ordered to make full restitution regarding all repairs and/or replacement as set forth in the motion by Mr. Holden and agreed to by Mr. Wang and his client. Furthermore, I believe excessive speed played a part in this accident. Ms. Taylor testified to the presence of a dog running into the street, which caused her to swerve and her vehicle to cross into the oncoming lane. The investigation yielded no proof as to the existence of said dog.”
“He thinks I’m lying?” Quinn blurted to her attorney. And then to the judge, “There was a dog!”
“Quinn,” her attorney warned.
“Ms. Taylor,” the judge called simultaneously. “Please refrain from further outbursts. As to your question to Attorney Wang, my statement is based not on whether or not you are lying, but whether or not evidence of the dog in question was uncovered. It was not.”
Quinn huffed and crossed her arms but remained quiet.
“Thankfully no one was seriously injured, which makes this case simpler, in that what happened calls for no jail time or probation. However, due to the defendant’s previous history of driving at excessive speeds, and the traffic violations that occurred as a result, I am going to impose a penalty in addition to the monetary obligations.”
Quinn’s indignant gasp cut through the judge’s droning voice. From the corner of his eye, Ike saw Joey place a hand on her arm. To calm or warn? Probably both. Quinn turned and caught the smirk on his face. She glared. Ike’s Cheshire grin widened into a satisfied smile. He sat back and watched Quinn try to control her mounting anger. What would be her punishment? Garbage detail? Flipping burgers? Emptying bedpans as a hospital aide? The thought of her being subjugated to most people’s normal almost made Ike laugh out loud. His day had been stressful. Now he felt relief.
Judge White continued.
“Usually, this type of consequence involves some form of community service—ground clearance, graffiti removal, recycling projects and the like. But it is my belief that despite the defendant’s propensity for having what my father calls a lead foot, Ms. Tay
lor is an intelligent individual with analytical and persuasive skills that could be put to better use in a complementary setting. Therefore, I am ordering Ms. Taylor to complete a four-week work assignment, each week consisting of forty hours, beginning Monday of next week.
“Furthermore, while not suspended, Ms. Taylor’s driving license will be on restricted status for thirty days, during which driving is permitted to and from work only.”
Lance raised a finger. “Judge, do you have an employer lined up and will this work be monitored? How can my client be assured that this penalty is carried out and completed?”
“Good question, Lance. That’s a problem I’ve easily solved by choosing Drake Realty Plus as the business for this detail.”
Ike sat up slowly. His body rigid. His mind disbelieving.
It was Quinn’s turn to smirk.
“I don’t understand,” Joey said.
“Neither do I,” Ike intoned.
“You will supervise the work detail, Mr. Drake,” Matthew continued. “What better way to make sure that the plaintiff’s call for justice has been satisfied than to appoint him as the defendant’s supervisor?”
“Wait a minute, Judge,” Ike said, tossing out all formality, barely maintaining respect. “That can’t happen. It makes no sense at all.”
“It can’t, and it won’t,” Quinn added, with a glance toward Ike, who now spoke quietly yet fervently in Lance’s ear.
“Quinn, quiet,” Joey admonished.
“I won’t work for him,” she hissed.
Matthew proved that he’d heard her by his swift, stern response. “You’ll do that or go to jail, young lady.”
This comment brought Joey to his feet. “Your Honor, if I may approach the, um, the desk.”
Matthew gathered strewn papers into a stack and tidied his desk. “Mr. Wang, that won’t be necessary.”
The statement made Ike’s attorney pop up faster than bread in a toaster. “Your Honor, this is a thoughtful approach to rectifying an unfortunate situation. My client appreciates your diligence to justice being served. However, we regretfully cannot accept this solution. Mr. Drake is under intense pressure right now to meet a deadline for a major project with millions of dollars at stake. This is absolutely the worst time for him to be distracted with an additional responsibility. If it pleases the court, we’d like to offer an alternative location, Drake Ranch. This business includes a vineyard, stables and adequate work opportunities through which Ms. Taylor can fulfill the penalty you’ve imposed.”
“Thank you, Mr. Holden. However, this matter has already been discussed with Ike Drake Sr., who has approved the arrangement. He has the utmost confidence, as do I, that both parties will handle themselves in a manner that will prove beneficial to all.” He placed the papers he’d gathered into a folder, looked at his watch and stood. “Now, everyone, if you’ll excuse me, I’m running late for a meeting with some council members. My assistant will provide all relevant copies of the order that has been put forth.”
Before Ike, Quinn or either of the attorneys could wrap their heads around what had just happened, the judge was gone.
Chapter 7
“He’s in his study, honey.”
Ike strode past Jennifer without a proper hello. He was sure the look on his face had prompted his mother to point him in the direction of the answers he sought. The pretrial meeting had ended three hours ago. That business had precluded him from getting answers until now had only caused his anger and frustration to reach the boiling point.
He didn’t bother to knock. “Dad, what were you thinking?”
“Now hold on, son,” Ike Sr. said as he threw up a hand to ward off the verbal attack. “I know why you’re here. I know why you’re upset. Have a seat.”
“I really don’t feel like sitting, Dad.”
Ike Sr. gave his son a look as he stood and headed to an ornate cherrywood butler table bearing a crystal decanter set that had belonged to his wife’s great-grandmother. “I didn’t ask whether or not you felt like it.”
Ike plopped into a leather chair and sulked.
“Want a spot of brandy?”
“No, thanks.”
Ike stretched out his legs and forced himself to calm down. There was no hurrying Ike Drake Sr., and staying wound up wasn’t good for his health. He pulled out his cell phone and texted Warren. After leaving his parents’ home, he’d release the day’s tension by going to Warren’s ranch and helping to break in his newly purchased home gym.
Ike Sr. returned to his seat. He took a sip of his drink and then set the snifter on the table beside him. He turned his body toward Ike and said, “Quinn Taylor is Glen Taylor’s daughter.”
Ike silently absorbed this news, thinking that in turning down the liquor he might have spoken too soon. “So what Audrey said was true.”
“Yes. I spoke to Glen.”
“You talked to her father?”
“I did. Apparently he’d contacted the court and discussed her case with the judge, and I guess together they concocted this rather unusual arrangement.”
“I don’t get it. Why would he want his daughter to work for us?”
“Some of what he shared was in confidence, but suffice it to say that he believes Quinn could benefit from being in a professional environment, one that requires discipline and focus. He admits she has faults but says hers was not always the easiest life.”
Ike’s look conveyed he didn’t believe that for a minute. “She’s lived in the lap of luxury.”
“Money isn’t everything, son.”
“True. Where’s her mom?”
Ike Sr. opened a humidor and pulled out a cigar. “I didn’t ask and he didn’t offer. He did share that his daughter is very smart and highly educated.”
“Audrey mentioned she’d returned to the States to get her degree.”
Ike Sr. nodded.
“Dad, I can understand that given she’s Glen’s daughter you’d want to help, but have you forgotten what’s at stake in the upcoming weeks?”
“Of course not. I would not have agreed to Glen’s request were I not absolutely sure that his daughter was capable of assisting us in the endeavor.
“Oh, and there’s one more thing. She isn’t to know of her dad’s involvement. Again, he didn’t explain and I didn’t pry, but I get the feeling that theirs is not the best of relationships. But it is clear that he loves his child.”
Ike rubbed his forehead, absorbing what his dad had shared. “I can’t believe this.”
Ike Sr. clipped a cigar. He lit it and exhaled slowly. “Whenever you start to get frustrated about this situation, remember that it was your idea.”
“How do you figure?”
“You wanted her to receive some type of punishment, right? Felt that she’d probably not experienced enough consequences for her actions? That’s what the judge told Glen.”
“Yeah, I said it,” Ike replied. “I just had no idea at the time that her punishment would also be mine.”
* * *
Quinn angrily swiped clothes-filled hangers from one side of the rack to the other. It had been three days since the circus of a pretrial conference in Judge White’s office, when he’d handed down the ridiculous sentence of working for Ike Drake. When she said she’d rather go to jail, she meant it. She’d even relented in being angry at her father long enough to call him and try to enlist his aid. It was her mess, he’d told her, and he wouldn’t help clean it up. Time for her to learn responsibility, he’d added. How did he think she’d earned her bachelor’s and master’s degrees in just six years? By being a scatterbrain?
“Quinn, dear, are you here?”
“In the closet!”
Seconds later Maggie stepped inside a closet larger than some bedrooms. “I thought I heard someone in he
re. Aren’t you supposed to be at the airport, picking up your best friend?”
“Trent? No. His uncle asked for help with a business project somewhere on the East Coast. It was just as well, since for the next thirty days I’ll be on lockdown with a fire-breathing dragon named Drake. Hopefully he’ll be back this way by then. He can’t wait to meet you.” Quinn pulled a dress off its hanger, placed it against her body and looked in the mirror. “Ugh! I have nothing to wear!”
Maggie chuckled as she looked around. “Dear, you have enough here to open a consignment store.”
“I meant anything to wear while giving the Drakes four weeks of free labor.”
“Oh, Quinn. Surely you’re not still smarting over what happened in court. It could have been much worse. Imagine someone without your resources. They’d be facing a mountain of debt and possible jail time.”
“One moment I’m fine, and then I think about the circumstances and get angry all over again. That I’m doing anything more than repairing the car I hit and maybe paying a fine is ridiculous. And there was a dog.” She reached for another dress, checked herself in the mirror and tossed it on a growing pile. “And then there’s Dad’s reaction. Refusing to get involved. It’s like there’s a conspiracy to make me miserable.”
“Ha! That’s a stretch, Quinn.” Maggie sat on a vanity chair.
“Okay, maybe a little. But it’s still not fair.”
“Life isn’t always fair, honey. But a lesson I’ve learned that has served me well is that it isn’t what happens to us but how we react. In this instance, you can either pout and fuss and spend the next four weeks being miserable in your quest to be right. Or you can take this lemon, make lemonade and serve it to all of the doubters while dressed to the nines and wearing a smile.”
Maggie rose, walked to the far end of the rack and pulled out a knee-length dress with cap sleeves. A sheath design, the stretch-woven material was a rich shade of indigo blue. “How about this one, Kristin Quinn? It’s quite appropriate for the office. The color is divine and would bring out the bronze tones in your skin.”