by Lori Ryan
So not going there. Not with someone who worked for him. Someone he needed to keep working for him. And, someone who was so clearly not the type of woman he usually chose, the type of woman he needed in his life.
The next few seconds happened in slow motion. At least, he was fairly sure they did. She turned on the chair, right in the middle of the “take a little trip” line and let out a scream. Well, maybe it was more a yelp. Halfway between a yelp and a scream.
And then the chair wobbled and seemed to spin a bit to the left as Phoebe corrected with her body to the right. And then she was flying.
Not exactly flying.
Falling.
Hard.
Shane bolted forward, trying to catch her but failing. He got to her seconds after she fell.
“Phoebe!” His head was running through the worker’s compensation insurance plan he had as he all but skidded to her side on his knees. “Are you all right? Phoebe?”
She turned over, pulling her hair out of her face with one hand and his heart stopped in his chest. She was laughing. Laughing without embarrassment or hesitation or anything. No worry that he’d seen her dancing on her chair. No concern for her safety or anything like that. Just pure, well…joy.
And it was stunning. She was gorgeous when she wasn’t trying to impress at a job interview or worry about what he might think.
Damn. Shane had a problem. A big one. And now, that problem was all but sprawled in his lap in a heap.
3
Small moments of joy can build a lifetime of happiness.
Fiona O’Malley’s Journal
Phoebe straightened her skirt and sat in the chair Shane had now pulled around to the back of her desk. She’d turned off the music and tried to look like she belonged in a law firm, but she wasn’t completely sure he was buying it. If the stony look on his face meant anything, he wasn’t.
“Sorry about that. I thought I was the only one in here this early.” She pulled her hair back in a ponytail and quickly clipped it with the large butterfly clip she’d left on her desk earlier. It wouldn’t hold for long, but it should make her a little more presentable while he was in the room.
He waved a hand in dismissal and sat in the chair opposite her desk. “Margaret won’t be in until nine and I don’t schedule appointments until then, but I come in early most days.”
“I’ll remember that.” She pressed her lips together.
“Well, as long as we’re both here,” he said, “We can get you started on some assignments. Margaret will get you the tax forms and things you’ll need to sign when she comes in later.”
He stood and gestured for her to follow him, and she couldn’t help but notice he was in khaki pants and a pullover shirt this morning. He led the way to his office and gestured for her to take a seat.
“I always thought Fridays were supposed to be business casual. You had a suit on Friday but casual today?” She made the comment without thinking and then realized it could be considered rude.
He apparently didn’t think so because he offered a shrug as he looked over his shoulder at her. “I’ve decided that on days I’m not going into the courthouse, I’ll dress business casual. You’re welcome to as well, if you’d like.”
Phoebe nodded, but on the inside, she was breathing a huge sigh of relief. She only had two suits. The black skirt-suit she was wearing today, and a navy pantsuit, which was also the suit she’d worn for her interview. Relocating from Austin had cost her a small chunk of her savings, and then there had been the deposit on the duplex she was renting three blocks from her office. She planned to pair different blouses with the two suits for at least a month or two until she got a few paychecks stocked away and caught up on her expenses.
If she could do business casual, she had a few skirts in her closet that she could pair with the blouses instead. With sandals, they would do well and she could save her suits for any days she needed to go to court with Shane. Assuming, he would ever need her to go to court with him. She wasn’t really sure what he would want.
She realized he wasn’t one for wasted words. Unlike her. She’d need to keep her lips pressed together around him. She tended to babble, always wanting to fill empty silences. But that was one of the things she planned to change about herself.
Not that it would be easy, what with all the silences he was leaving. Good heavens, did the man never talk?
“I love this old building. It’s gorgeous.” So much for keeping her mouth shut. She looked around at the high ceiling that matched the one in her office. “I wonder what era it’s from?”
Now he spoke, startling her out of her study of the pressed tin tile ceilings that had been painted a distressed white. Or maybe they hadn’t been painted that way. Maybe they were actually distressed. “I’m told it’s an old rancher’s weekend cottage. I should research it more, I guess, but—” He didn’t finish the sentence. He simply looked around at the work piled up on his desk and the filing cabinet behind him.
She supposed she should dig in and help him with that work, but she had to admit, she was curious about the building. “Ranchers had weekend cottages in town?”
“Mm hmm.” He pulled the stack of files in front of them and began sorting a few from the rest. “In the early 1900s, I guess. They would keep very small cottages like this one in town to visit on the weekends. One of my clients told me she thought the ceiling tiles were not original. I would guess she’s right.” He shrugged, looking up at the ceiling. “Well, she knew better than I would anyway.”
“You wouldn’t think the ceilings would be so high down here. It’s such a small house, there’s barely room for the second floor.”
“There’s not.” Shane leaned back in his chair and looked around. “The upstairs is basically one open bedroom with a window on either side. It’s almost more of an attic. I use it for storage. I have to bend over when I go up there.”
“How tall are you?” Phoebe’s eyes went wide. “That was probably rude.”
He looked at her, stunned for a minute, before laughing. “Six-two.”
Phoebe nodded, looking again at the ceiling hoping to hide the fact that she was thinking about that height and how nice it was. She wasn’t quite sure when it happened—maybe back when she’d noticed his khaki pants, which she’d of course been viewing from the back—but she seemed to have become a little too aware of Shane’s not very lawyerly body. She wondered how he kept so fit when, according to him, he spent almost every minute in the office trying to catch up on work.
Shane cleared his throat and Phoebe looked back to him, her cheeks heating. “Sorry. You probably want to get started on work.” She scooted forward to the edge of her chair, ready to look over the files he was now pushing toward her.
“Take a look through these. I tried to pull out things that I was sure you’d have gone over in school. Simple things like title searches, preparing a deed transfer, that kind of thing.”
Phoebe pulled the files toward her and started flipping through them, nodding her head.
“If you don’t know how to do something, just ask me. I’ll typically have a pile of things for you to start on each morning, and I’ll leave another pile with Margaret throughout the day. If you check with her after lunch, she’ll have more things for you.”
“And should I just give her anything I’ve completed? Or would you rather I bring them straight to you?” Phoebe realize she was feeling nervous, not something she typically felt when she started a new job. Then again, this wasn’t like the other jobs she had.
“You can give them to Margaret.”
With that, he looked down at his own pile of folders and Phoebe was left with the distinct feeling she was dismissed.
She closed the folders in her lap and scooted out of the office, wishing she could dismiss the thoughts in her head as easily as Shane had dismissed her. For whatever reason, just being around Shane Bishop made her stomach jumpy.
4
You’ve got to do your own growing, no matte
r how tall your father was.
Irish Proverb Recorded in Fiona O’Malley’s Journal
Shane stuck his head out of his office. “Anything I need to look at, Margaret?”
Margaret had been screening his emails for him for the better part of a year. It was one of the ways they’d ended up managing without a paralegal for so long.
“I flagged three things for you to look at.” She spun around in her desk chair to face him. “Oh, and Phoebe left these for you before she went to lunch.”
Shane stepped closer and took the files from Margaret. It seemed to be all the files Shane had given Phoebe that morning. He frowned down at them. “She’s finished already?” The comment was said absently, not really needing an answer. Margaret didn’t give him one.
He scanned through everything and was surprised to find everything was in order. Not only had she finished what he asked of her, she left sticky notes with little comments here and there throughout the pages. Suggestions or things he needed to be aware of.
Sticky notes with little comments and smiley faces.
He glanced up at Margaret, realizing he’d need to come up with more work for Phoebe. Thank God. “Would you mind calling over to Gina and asking her if she can get something ready for me? I’ll run out and pick it up in a little bit.” Gina and her sister, Tina, owned the Two Sisters Diner and provided most of Shane’s lunches.
“No need. Phoebe asked if she could pick us up anything. I brought my lunch today, but I’m having her get you something.” She looked at her watch. “She should be back in about 10 minutes.”
Shane looked back to his office then around to Margaret again. “You know, I think I’ll walk over and meet her. I could use the break.” There was a time he never missed getting out for a run at lunch or walking over to eat with friends. If he was finally going to be breaking the chains that had bound him to his desk lately, he should start taking advantage of that freedom.
The walk to the diner wasn’t far. Shane raised a hand in response to waves from several people across the street or passing by in cars. He spotted Phoebe when he was half a block away coming out of the diner. He hadn’t realized how much gold was in her hair, but with the sun shining off its strands, it was hard to miss.
And where the hell had that thought come from?
Her forehead creased when she reached him. “I’m sorry. Am I late getting back?” Her tone said she hadn’t thought she was and he shook his head, smiling at her.
“Not at all. I just figured I’d get out of the office and walk you back. Is that for me?” He pointed to the brown paper bag in her hands.
She turned it over to him. “Yes. Margaret said to tell them to make you your usual, so that’s what I did. Let’s hope they got it right.”
“In the diner, make me my usual is code for surprise me.” He opened the bag and sniffed before letting out a moan. “Meatloaf sandwich. You haven’t lived until you’ve had the meatloaf sandwich at the diner made from Tina’s leftover meatloaf. Sunday, the special is always meatloaf but she doubles up and makes enough to have meatloaf sandwiches for the special on Mondays.”
Shane gestured to a side street on the right. “Let’s go this way. I’ll show you some of the town.”
They wandered through several side streets, with Shane pointing out various things for her. He pointed to the elementary school, which was also across from the building that housed both the middle and high schools.
“Wow. You can fit the middle and high school classes into one building?”
“Oh yeah. They might have to split that sometime in the next few years, but while I was growing up, we were lucky if there were three or four hundred students total in the building. It’s a small town.” He looked around. “Well, I take that back. It’s a small town that’s growing bigger. For a while the economy was pretty depressed, but we’ve made a comeback recently. I think the building now holds six hundred, but last I heard they were at capacity.”
Shane stopped, turning to a small house. He could feel Phoebe’s eyes bouncing from him to the yard and back as he greeted the short round woman kneeling by a garden patch at the front of the lawn. “Well this one is interesting, Isabel. I never thought… Well I just never… Well, it’s interesting.”
Isabel shaded her eyes as she looked up at him, beaming herself. “I have to say, I wasn’t sure about this one when I started, but I think it’s come out nicely.”
Said garden plot was well-tended with freshly tilled soil and no evidence of a weed or errant plant in sight. In fact, there were no plants. Rubber chickens stuck out of the soil in neat little rows, as if they’d been planted there and grown as flowers.
“Isabel Schneider meet my new paralegal, Phoebe Joy. Phoebe, this is Isabel.” Shane glanced at Phoebe expecting to see a dropped jaw, but what he saw was a friendly and accepting smile. Not many people pulled that off when they first ran into Isabel’s garden.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Schneider.” Phoebe extended her hand and Isabel stood, brushing off the dirt on a pair of navy blue khakis before accepting the handshake.
“Likewise.”
The small group turned as an old truck pulled into the driveway next to Isabel’s. A white-haired man leaned out the window and scowled in their direction.
“Are you kidding me? You have to be kidding me. Chickens?” Now he looked Shane directly in the eye. “Do something about this. There are rubber chickens in the ground.”
Shane raised his hands. “Not getting involved.” With a smile toward Phoebe, he steered them down the street as the neighbors continued bickering.
Phoebe leaned toward him, their arms brushing. “Please tell me you’re going to explain that.”
He liked the proximity. “About three years back, Isabel and her brother had a falling out. She started planting unusual things in her garden. Actually, it wasn’t all that unusual at first. They were flowers, at least. Plastic ones, but flowers. She still occasionally does plastic flowers, but more often than not it’s something like pinwheels or flags. Rubber chickens is a whole new level.” He looked back at the dueling neighbors and shook his head.
“Wait, that’s her brother?” Phoebe’s eyes went wide and Shane laughed at the look she gave him.
“Yep. She swears the garden is to entertain her grandchildren, but since the youngest of them just turned 12, that excuse always seems a little flimsy in my mind.”
“You think she’s doing it just to get her brother?”
“Oh yeah.” Shane raised his hand in greeting to another passing car as they turned back toward the office.
“You know everybody, don’t you.” Phoebe’s gaze followed the car before returning to him.
Shane lifted his shoulder. “I grew up here. I’m also the only lawyer in town. I handle almost all the real estate transactions, unless it’s somebody buying from out of town and they use a lawyer from back home. I handle a lot of the litigation.”
“I noticed trust and estate matters seem to make up a lot of your workload. I mean, if what you gave me this morning was any indication.”
He didn’t have a chance to answer her. They’d circled back around to the law office and chief Garret Hensley was approaching the front steps of the building from the other side. Something about the man’s gaze told Shane this wasn’t a friendly visit, despite the fact the two men were friends.
“Garret? Everything all right?” Shane asked when they got close enough.
The chief removed his hat. “I’m sorry, Shane. I just need a word in private.”
“All right. We can go in my office. Oh, Garret Hensley, chief of police, meet my new paralegal, Phoebe Joy. Phoebe this is our chief, Garret Hensley.”
The three moved into the front entrance and stopped in the lobby of the office. Margaret must have stepped out to eat her lunch at the park because she was nowhere in sight.
“It’s nice to meet you, chief.” Phoebe said with a nod. “I think I met your wife at lunch. Ashley?”
As always, the mention of Ashley brought a relaxed smile to the Chief’s face. “That’s right. She’s usually one of the first people you meet when you get to town. She’s pretty fond of taking people under her wing and showing them around.”
“She introduced me to Katelyn and Laura, and just about everybody in the diner.” Phoebe looked from Shane to the chief and then gestured over her shoulder to her office. “I’ll leave you two alone. Shane, is it all right if I poke around in some of the computer files to get a sense of how you like some of your documents set up and formatted?”
“Absolutely. I’ll get you some more work as soon as Garret and I have finished.”
Once Shane had shut the door to his office, Garret let out a breath. “I’m sorry, Shane. I hate to have to tell you this, but Fiona O’Malley was found dead in her home this morning.”
Shane sank into his chair. His neighbor wasn’t the oldest woman on the planet, but she was hardly young. If memory served, she was in her late 70s. He had lived next to her for the last of those seven decades and he’d liked the woman a lot. She still spoke with the Irish lilt of her childhood and was always frank and cheerful.
He looked up at Garret. “How?”
“That’s what I’m hoping to talk to you about. I’m not here to talk to you in your capacity as her lawyer. I understand you have confidentiality issues to worry about there. I’m interested in talking to you as her neighbor, her friend.”
Shane nodded. Garret would never ask Shane to violate attorney-client privilege.
“It appears to be suicide. I just wanted to get your sense of things before I go talk to the daughter.”
“Her daughter lives over in Blanco I think.”
Garret nodded. “I’ll drive over there this afternoon. The medical examiner won’t formalize anything yet, but it looks like she might have overdosed intentionally. Her blood pressure medication. We found a bottle next to her and it was empty.”