Indicted (Bad Judgment #1)

by Leigh James

  “My laptop is at Walker’s,” I lied, picturing it in the back of the BMW. “But I’ll get it to you this afternoon or tomorrow.”

  “Fine.”

  “And I can turn in my keys and any other files I have at home in then, too.”

  “Fine.”

  “What about Walker’s files?” I asked. Typically, when a firm was fired, everything was boxed up and sent to the new law firm. But this was me. And as of about four minutes ago, I no longer had a law firm.

  “I’ll have everything sent over to your house,” David said. I nodded at him. “You’re going to have to notify the Bar about your change in circumstance,” he said, “and you are going to have to get gap coverage for your malpractice insurance. Not that Walker is going to sue you, anytime soon.”

  He sank back in his chair and continued to tap at his unlit cigarette. “I’m afraid I’ve failed you,” he said, and smiled at me wanly. “First of all, I didn’t expect that you would be vulnerable to Mr. Walker’s charms, of which there are many. You’re a brilliant young woman, but I should have known that your brilliance wouldn't make you immune to him.”

  I just stared at him. I could feel my brow furrow. “Walker’s hotness is not the problem,” I said.

  “I just said that was first. And his ‘hotness,’ as you refer to it, isn’t helping, either,” he said. I shrugged.

  “Second, I didn’t inform you about all of the measures that Blue was taking to protect Walker’s assets, in the event that he had to go to prison. I don’t know about the Miami sub-corporation in particular, but I suspect that was what it was set up for, Nicole. I guessed that you would trust the firm’s approach to handling things and come and see me first, instead of blowing this up with Lester Max and Walker himself.”

  “If this is for his benefit, why are Lester Max and our firm getting the lion’s share of the revenue?” I asked.

  “I can’t speak for Lester Max. But any extra income coming into this firm, from any source related to Blue, is going into a trust for Walker’s benefit,” David said, pinching his eyes shut. “So that some of his funds are protected from government seizure.”

  “Isn’t that completely illegal?” I asked.

  “It can be. But the way Lester set it up, it circumvented the statute.” He opened his eyes and shrugged. “It was one of those things. Doing what needed to be done in the client’s best interests.”

  “Lester Max didn’t seem like he had Walker’s best interests just now,” I said. “And frankly, neither did Norris.”

  “Norris is an asshole,” David said and sighed.

  “A dangerous asshole,” I said.

  He nodded. “I can see how you’d feel that way, Nicole. He is a little scary. But he’s never done anything illegal. I wouldn’t practice law with him if he had.”

  “He hid in the ladies’ room in the stall next to me, and then jumped out to scare me and yell at me,” I said, shrugging. “And he just used the c-word.”

  “That’s just gross. It’s not illegal,” David said.

  I gave him a disapproving stare. “It’s so gross it ought to be illegal,” I said.

  “You’re going to have to trust me on this, Nicole. I’ve been practicing law — high-end law, with big dollars at stake — for almost three decades. I’ve never had a professional complaint filed against me. That’s saying something. I’ve always been meticulous with my work. And I’ve always put my clients first. Including Walker.”

  I almost believed him. I wanted to believe him. What I didn’t want to believe was that he and Lester Max had somehow colluded to rip off Walker. What I didn’t want to believe was that the government had falsely accused Walker of criminal charges so they could have a monopoly on his patents and his intellectual property. What I didn’t want to believe was that we were surrounded by people we couldn’t trust, being followed and watched, people being hurt around us, with nowhere to turn.

  “He should have been told, David,” I said, and I sounded resigned to my own ears, distant. “Even if you were doing it for his benefit, which I’m not sure I believe, he should have been told.” I stood up to go. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Please make sure Tammy gets to work for someone nice.”

  David stood up. “I’ll have HR get the paperwork ready while you grab your personal things from your office. You’re going to have to have security escort you — and I want you to know it’s standard, you’re not being singled out.”

  I snorted as I walked out the door. “I could certainly use a little security,” I said. “Although it may be a little late.”

  “Goodbye, Nicole,” David said.

  “Goodbye, David. Please don’t start smoking again. You look like you’re about ready to pop.”

  Walker was waiting outside. Linda was beaming up at him. I clenched my hands into fists. “Linda, I’m leaving the firm,” I said, and she looked at me with a hint of surprise and a whole lot of distaste. “That means your boyfriend’s out of here, too,” I said, jerking my thumb towards Walker. “So say ‘bye-bye.’”

  “Bye?” Linda said, clearly stunned.

  “Bye-bye,” Walker said. “We may be in touch, Linda. Thanks for the coffee.”

  * * *

  I STUCK my head into Alexa’s office on my way. Walker stood by me, calmly eyeing the large, beefy security guard who’d met us two seconds after we’d left David’s office.

  “Well, look what the cat dragged in,” said Alexa. “Or at least the managing partner.”

  She lit up when she saw Walker. “Hello, Walker,” she said and grinned at him wildly. “How’s it hanging?”

  I turned bright red. “Can you not…talk like that?” I asked. “Ever again?”

  She shrugged at me and raised her eyebrows. “I don’t make promises about the future.”

  “Oh, I know. Just for the moment,” I said.

  She shrugged again and Mandy came in, breathing hard. “Nicole?” she asked, looking at the security guard. “Is it true?”

  Well, that was fast. I hadn’t left David’s office two minutes ago.

  “It’s true,” I said, and noticed Alexa looking at me with her brow furrowed.

  “You’re pregnant?” Alexa shrieked, clearly horrified.

  Walker laughed and disguised it as a coughing fit as I glared at her. “Hardly,” I said. I put my chin up. “I’m leaving the firm.”

  “You’re fired?” Alexa screeched, and I glared at her some more.

  “I quit,” I said. “David, Norris and I had a disagreement about how Walker’s case should be handled. So he fired the firm. And hired me. So I quit.”

  It sounded strange to my own ears. I hoped that I’d get some other clients, eventually. Being a one-woman firm with one client was a little daunting. Then I looked at Walker, his thin tee-shirt outlining his pectoral muscles, his very large biceps visible, and suddenly, it didn’t seem so bad.

  “So you’re going to handle his representation by yourself?” Mandy asked, and I could see the worry behind her eyes. “It’s a lot, Nicole. I’ve been going through the documents and it’s complicated.”

  “I know,” I said, and for a second the enormity of what I was about to undertake weighed on me. “But I’ll just give it everything I have. That’s all I can do. And it’s always been enough, so far.”

  “You’ll be fine,” Mandy said, and came over and hugged me. “Dinner,” she said. “You and me. Soon.”

  I nodded at her and I turned to Alexa. “Alexa, it’s been a pleasure,” I sniffed, but she barreled over unexpectedly and hugged me, tightly.

  “You be careful,” she whispered into my hair.

  “You and Mandy be careful,” I whispered back. “I mean it. Remember our liquid lunch. Look out for each other.”

  She pulled back and nodded at me. Then she turned to the security guard, checking him out.

  “Hey, big boy,” she said to him flirtatiously, and he looked stunned. She turned back to me and shrugged. “Gonna need to ratchet up the ex
citement around here, now that you two are leaving.”

  I turned around then and left. Walker and the guard followed me. I didn’t want to look back. I didn’t want to cry. I was relieved that Tammy was still out when I got to my office; I grabbed the makeup bag she’d left for me and my time sheets, which I would still need to complete so the firm could be paid for my time to date. I scooped my toiletries and change of clothes into a bag and then met the HR woman on the way out. Walker held everything while I signed my separation agreement, not letting myself think, not letting myself feel, not letting myself comprehend the full extent of what this meant. No more cushy office. No more six-figure paycheck. No more of the firm paying my bar dues, my malpractice insurance, my continuing education classes. I briefly thought of Richie, and my brothers, and then my student loans, but I made myself stop. Enough, I thought. There was being responsible and then there was doing what was right. To date, I’d always thought they were the same thing.

  Not anymore.

  * * *

  “THERE’S BEEN a car circling the block since you got here,” Toby said, casually throwing Walker his keys. “I’m guessing you’d be expecting that.”

  “White Range Rover?” Walker asked.

  “White Lexus,” the valet said.

  “Ah, I’m getting them confused lately,” Walker said and smiled. He handed Toby another wad of bills. “For your service,” he said, and Toby beamed at him.

  “Hope to see you again, Mr. Walker,” he said.

  “I really hope so, too,” Walker said.

  CHAPTER 21

  “I think we need to tie up some loose ends,” Walker said, apropos of nothing, when we were getting out his car back at his house.

  “Okay,” I said.

  “I need to call my sister. She’s on vacation with her boyfriend,” he said, while shaking his head no at me. “No she’s not,” he mouthed, and I could barely make it out in the darkness of his garage. I nodded.

  “I need to go to my apartment,” I said. “I need to get some stuff that belongs to Proctor and I also need to talk to Mike.” I mumbled the last part and Walker raised his eyebrows.

  “Okay,” he said, his eyebrows still raised.

  “Okay,” I said. I was suddenly completely and utterly exhausted. “I need to go see Richie, too.”

  “Okay.” He paused for a beat. “Want to have lunch first?” He smiled at me, a lopsided, exhausted smile, and I smiled back.

  “Okay,” I said, and grabbed his hand. “But let’s make sandwiches here. No more ordering out.”

  * * *

  “I’M WAITING on the stairs,” Walker said again, belligerently, “so stop telling me not to. Just go.”

  I looked at him miserably. Mike was up there, in my apartment. I’d called him and asked him to meet me. I had a two-part agenda: (1) I was going to break up with him and (2) I was going to make him take all of his stuff out of my apartment today so that I didn’t have to do this again. I needed to be done with it.

  But Walker waiting for me on the stairs was going to stress me out.

  “Please?” I asked. I went to him and wrapped my arms around his waist, breaking all the rules. “I don’t want him to feel worse than he already will.”

  Walker put his hands into my hair and my body jolted with electricity. “Nic, I’ll do anything you want,” he said, lowly, pressing his hips into mine and dragging his lips across my forehead. I felt shaky, dizzy, and suddenly wet. I reflexively pressed my hips against his and I could feel him getting hard against me. My breath was coming fast.

  I almost let him take me right there, on the stairs. I struggled to press myself against him through our clothes.

  “I’ll do anything you want,” he said again, running his lips over my forehead in a tantalizing fashion, “except compromise your safety.” He pulled back from me and I breathed in sharply, the world coming back into focus.

  “You. Are. Evil,” I said, frowning at him, willing my heart to stop thudding in my chest.

  He smiled at me wickedly and ran his hands up and down my sides, sending shivers of heat through me. “That was awesome,” he said, and laughed.

  I stepped back, pouting, and smoothed my hair down so Mike didn’t see me looking all sexed up. “I’ll be back,” I said, straightening my shirt.

  “Remember,” he mouthed at me, and I nodded. Remember what we talked about, via writing on a piece of paper back at his house, about not speaking freely in my apartment. It was probably bugged, too. The white Lexus had followed us here; there was every reason to think that they were listening to us.

  Not that Mike and I had that much to talk about.

  “Hi, honey,” Mike said as soon as I walked through the door. He hugged me and gave my face several rapid kisses, pouncing on me like a Golden Retriever — one who hadn’t been out for a walk in nine hours, and was wondering if his owner was ever coming back.

  “Hey,” I said, steeling my body and pulling away from him. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, but I didn’t feel as bad as I should. I felt bored, annoyed even. Couldn’t Mike tell that I’d outgrown him? Was it really necessary for me to spell it out for him, and embarrass us both?

  “How are you?” he asked. I saw him looking at my dress and I knew he could tell that it was new. Hell, I looked different. It wasn’t just the dress. He wasn’t dumb.

  “You look…nice,” he said, warily.

  “Thanks,” I said. “Sit down.”

  “Are you really doing this?” he asked, without moving. “To me? Because of him?”

  I shook my head and grabbed his hand, leading him to the couch. I sat down as far away from him as I could and crossed my legs, worried that he would somehow sense the fire that had encased my body only moments earlier. “It’s not because of him, Mike. I swear. It’s because of me.”

  He looked at the floor, his face red and his eyes suddenly wet.

  “This just isn’t what I want,” I said, and grabbed his hands. “It’s like I woke up a couple of weeks ago and realized that I wanted more from my life. And that’s nothing personal against you. I just was on the wrong path. I couldn’t see it then. But now I do.”

  To my horror, Mike sniffled. “I should have proposed,” he said, miserably. “I wanted to. I just wanted to wait until I made equity partner so we could buy a house and everything would be perfect…”

  “Everything will be perfect,” I said. “For you. Just not with me. You’ll make equity partner and you’ll have a pretty girlfriend and you’ll buy a house. You’ll get married and have kids. And it will all be perfect, everything you’ve worked so hard for.”

  “But how do you know that?” he asked, and he wiped the tears from his eyes.

  Because you are decent looking, because you went to MIT, and because you make a ton of money, I thought meanly. Some woman who’s pushing thirty is going to snap you up, pick out a ring, order a china pattern and get you to impregnate her before you even know what hits you. Duh.

  But he would be happy. Mike was a decent guy and he deserved a decent life. Not an exciting life, but a decent life.

  It was something to strive for, I knew. And maybe I’d get a decent life someday, when all the excitement died down.

  “You have to get your stuff. I have to go,” I said.

  “Back to work?” Mike asked, wiping his eyes one final time and rising to his feet.

  “Yep,” I said, lightly, not wanting to go into any details, and went to grab him a bag.

  Ten minutes later we went down the stairs. Walker was sitting at the bottom of them, watching the road through the windows on the side of the door.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Mike wailed, looking at me indignantly. “He’s waiting for you? This is what you meant by back to work?”

  I nodded towards Walker. “He’s a little paranoid,” I said, and smiled lamely. Walker stood up to all six-foot-two of his gloriousness and I felt more than a little sorry for Mike, who now looked like a Golden Retriever that had been badly b
etrayed.

  “Broden Walker, this is Mike Williams. Mike Williams, this is Broden Walker.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Walker said, and smiled at him.

  “You’re a smug son of a bitch, aren’t you?” Mike asked, with more animation than I’d heard come from him in years.

  “Not really,” Walker said and shrugged. “I just look like one.”

  Mike looked deflated. “I should fight you,” he said.

  “But you went to MIT and you know better,” Walker said, almost kindly. “Do you need a ride?”

  “No thanks,” Mike said glumly, and turned to me. “Is this goodbye?”

  I nodded at him, and suddenly I felt a crushing sadness well up inside of me, a sadness for what I was leaving behind, and all of the uncertainties of the future. And now that we were saying goodbye, it was real: goodbye to all the nights watching baseball, in our sweats, and all the hopes and dreams I’d had back then. I wasn’t that girl anymore. I couldn’t go back. I’d changed, and none of those old things fit anymore. Mike included.

  “Goodbye,” I whispered, and pulled him to me. He hugged me back and then released me, leaving without another word.

  “What time is it?” I asked Walker, a minute or so later, when I’d stopped staring off into space, thinking about all the ties that I’d cut in one day.

  “Four.”

  “Can we have margaritas back at your place?” I asked. “Please?”

  “You’re the boss,” he said, and grabbed my hand.

  * * *

  THREE MARGARITAS and a very large plate of nachos later, Walker and I were sitting on his couch, watching the news. Our fake-talk was feeling mostly normal now, for better or for worse. It was our secret way of maintaining some semblance of order, of taking action, of staying alive and playing the game.