by J. B. Lynn
Phyllis turned her gaze to Amy. “You saw Rex?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“How is he?”
Amy swallowed hard before saying gently, “Dying. Lung cancer.”
“Damn,” Phyllis muttered. “Can’t say I’m surprised, the man always did smoke more than a forest fire. Show me this letter he brought you.”
Amy handed it to her and then held her breath.
Pulling a pair of reading glasses out of a pocket, Phyllis plunked them on her nose and scanned the sheet carefully. “You need to look in the Ellis v. Snyder file from ninety-four.”
Brady grinned. “Sounds easy enough.”
“And it says your mother has the key.”
Amy exhaled a painful gasp. This had been a wild goose chase. She’d wasted her time. She’d wasted Brady’s time. She’d never figure out what the mysterious letter meant. Her shoulders slumped and she leaned forward.
Brady wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders, holding her upright so that she didn’t pitch face-first to the ground.
“Are you alright, dear?’ Phyllis asked, alarmed.
“My mother’s been dead for a number of years. I don’t recall her having any mysterious keys.”
Phyllis patted her knee. “Not your mother. Baby’s.”
“My mom?” Brady asked on a strangled gasp.
Phyllis nodded. “Your mother was Milton Willen’s junior secretary. Of course that was over twenty years ago. No wonder you don’t remember it.” Phyllis paused, regarding them with a small smile. “Lara was right.”
“Right about what?” Brady asked.
“About the kind of couple you two make.”
“We’re not,” Amy stammered quickly, feeling her cheeks warm. She tried to shake off the arm Brady had draped around her shoulders, but the weight didn’t budge. “We’re not a couple.”
“Is that true?” Phyllis squinted at Brady.
Amy stole a glance at him to see his response.
He shrugged, but then winked cheekily at the older woman.
Chuckling, she waved them away, popping a chocolate-covered cherry into her mouth.
“Why’d you do that?” Amy demanded to know the moment they were out of the home. She clenched her hands at her sides to keep from punching his shoulder like she did when Diego annoyed her.
Brady stopped, crossed his arms over his chest, and smiled down at her. “Do what?”
“Let her think that we’re…” Amy waved her arms wildly back and forth between them. “That you and I… We’re not.”
Leaning forward so that he could whisper in her ear, he said, “We could be.”
“No. We can’t.” Amy whirled away and stalked toward his car.
He easily fell into step beside her, matching her stride. “Why not?”
“Because… the world just doesn’t work that way.”
“What way?” he asked, opening her car door for her. “Two people can’t meet, find each other attractive, get to know each other?”
“Not you and I.” She slammed her door closed, shutting him out. Needing a moment alone to gather her wayward thoughts and get a handle on her emotions.
“And what makes us so different from everyone else in the universe?” Brady asked, settling himself behind the steering wheel.
“You have a life,” she reminded him, “and I’m no catch.”
Brady calmly started the car and began driving, mulling over her argument.
Amy stared out the passenger window, blinking back tears, even though she didn’t know why she was on the brink of crying.
“Why don’t you explain what you meant by that?” Brady suggested quietly.
Amy shook her head.
“C’mon,” he wheedled. “After all, I am spending my Saturday with you. That’s got to be worth something.”
Amy took a shaky breath, realizing she did owe him an explanation of sorts considering all he’d done for her. “You have a career and nice things and you probably play golf.”
“Hate golf,” he murmured.
Undeterred she pushed on. “And I work two jobs, both of which I hate, and live on the wrong side of town.”
“What’s your other job?”
“I’m a glorified clerk in a hospital. I spend my whole day accepting urine samples.”
“That does sound pretty crappy,” he commiserated.
“The point is our lives don’t fit together. We’re like two jigsaw pieces, but the problem is we’re from two different puzzles.”
“Given this a lot of thought, have you?”
“You haven’t?”
She could have kicked herself when he remained silent. Just because she’d spent half the night trying to figure out whether they had any kind of future together, didn’t mean he had.
Finally, he asked, “So what do you want to do if it’s not collect specimens and wait tables?”
“I want to finish school.”
“You said you weren’t a student,” he reminded her.
“I’m not currently enrolled in a higher learning institution.”
He chuckled. “But you were?”
“Yes.”
“Studying to be what?”
“A social worker,” she admitted grudgingly.
“Of course.”
“Of course?”
“Anyone who’d come to the aid an old lady getting mugged would have to choose a helping profession. Social work makes sense. Then again, so does superhero-ism.”
“That’s my secret job,” she joked.
He laughed and the sound thrilled her.
“So why’d you quit?” he asked.
“I developed an allergy to spandex,” she quipped quickly, wanting to keep him amused.
“No. Really. Why’d you quit?”
“My mom got sick.”
“I’m sorry. Was it…?” He trailed off uncomfortably.
Her former sense of elation evaporating as she remembered the struggle of her mother’s illness, her eyes once again filled with tears. “She died on my twentieth birthday.”
“How awful for you.”
They drove in silence for a few minutes until Brady asked, “You never went back to school?”
Amy laced her fingers in her lap and stared down at them. “I did, part time. I’ve actually only got one more class to take.”
“But you work two jobs and can’t fit it in?” he guessed.
“Something like that.” She thought about the funk Bea’s death had thrown her into. “I’m not supposed to be at the restaurant, but I’m trying to keep a promise I made.” Then realizing she sounded glum, she added with as much cheer as she could muster, “Then again, the extra money I’m making is helping me to keep another promise I made to my mom, so it will all work out in the end.”
Brady pulled the car into the parking lot of the building where he worked. “Ready to go find out what that letter of yours is really about?”
She hesitated, unsure if she was. “We could do this Monday. I think you’ve wasted enough on your Saturday on me. I don’t want to take up any more of your time.”
His response was to push the button that unlatched her seatbelt. “I’m a big boy, Ms. Winn. I’m pretty sure I can figure out how to spend my time all by myself.”
“I didn’t mean I wasn’t grateful.”
He climbed out of the car, walked around to her side, and waited for her to emerge. “Scared?” he asked as they walked toward the entrance.
“Apprehensive.”
“I’ll help you with whatever it ends up being.” He opened the door for her.
Since it was a Saturday, there was no receptionist waiting in the foyer. The silence that greeted them was slightly eerie.
“Is the elevator okay?” Brady asked. “Or would you prefer to take the stairs?”
“The elevator’s fine.”
They rode in silence up to the offices of Michelman, Willen and Willen.
“Someone else is here,” Brady observed when he found
the door to the office suite was unlocked.
“I made coffee,” the bow-tie wearing associate announced, rounding the corner, his nose in an oversized legal file.
Brady arched an eyebrow. “You knew we were coming?”
“I’m not that good,” Gerald replied easily. “Just saying it’s there if you want it.” He looked up from his reading material. “Nice to see you again, Ms. Winn. We weren’t introduced yesterday. I’m Gerald White.” He extended his hand and a smile.
She shook it. “Nice to meet you, Gerald.”
“Did you need something from me, boss?” he asked Brady.
“Is the file room unlocked?”
“It is.”
“Then I don’t need anything. What are you working on?”
A slight frown pinched Gerald’s forehead. “I’m not supposed to say.”
Brady sighed. “Another of Eric’s secret projects?”
Gerald nodded.
“Okay, I won’t put you in a tough spot. I’ll just ask him about it on Monday.”
“Appreciate that.” Nodding to them both, Gerald strolled away.
“Milton Willen was a good man,” Brady muttered. “But I can’t say the same about his son. C’mon. The file room is this way.”
He led the way through a series of hallways that finally led to the biggest file room Amy had ever seen. She gasped at the size of it.
“We lawyers love our paperwork,” Brady remarked drily.
“Do you think we’ll be able to find…?”
“Of course. Phyllis explained the code. We’ll just follow the bread crumbs and end up in Oz.”
“The bread crumbs were for Hansel and Gretel, who weren’t going to Oz,” she pointed out. “And they didn’t end up leading them home.”
“Ye of little faith. Ellis vs. Snyder,” Brady declared. “Since it’s from ninety-four, it’ll be in the archived section.” Pushing off the table, he headed toward the back of the file room.
Amy followed closely behind, feeling a mixture of excitement and trepidation over what her mysterious inheritance could be that she forgot to breathe.
She stumbled over an electrical cord and would have tripped, but Brady turned quickly enough to catch her elbow and hold her upright.
“You okay?” He searched her face, concern shining in his eyes.
“Just a klutz,” she assured him. “I was distracted and wasn’t watching where I was going.” Suddenly aware he was still holding her arm, she offered a weak smile. “I promise I’m not going to fall.”
His gaze narrowed and he focused on her intently. “I think I may have already.”
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
Without releasing her, he leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “I think I may have already fallen for you, Amy Winn.”
She shivered, but didn’t know if it was a reaction to his breath tickling her ear or his words.
“I think you’re wrong about us not fitting together,” he murmured before pressing his lips to the spot just beneath her ear.
She gasped and her knees buckled at the sensation. Instinctively, she grabbed his shoulder to keep from collapsing like a ragdoll, but she didn’t push him away as his lips slowly traced along her jawbone setting off mini-explosions of pleasure. She couldn’t push him away. She didn’t want to.
She wanted more of this feeling.
She didn’t wait for him to reach her lips; instead, she turned her head to find his mouth, searching intently, knowing that a mere kiss wasn’t going to satisfy the desire raging like a wildfire in every cell of her body.
But he pulled back.
She tightened her grip on his shoulder, trying to encourage him to return to what he’d started.
“I’m thinking we’ll fit together just fine.” His voice was husky with need, but he didn’t kiss her. “I just don’t think this is the place. Not with Gerald wandering around.”
It was her turn to pull back then as the reality that they weren’t the only two people in the world sank in. She snatched her hand back from his shoulder, her cheeks warmed and she looked away, mortified by her behavior.
Brady slid his hand, which still rested on her elbow, down to her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. “Perfect fit.” He gave her a gentle tug so she’d follow him and moved deeper into the file room.
Scanning the file labels, he let go of her hand and hopped up on a stepstool. After a minute’s searching, he found the folder and jumped down, brandish it victoriously. “Got it.”
Not trusting herself to speak coherently, considering her synapses seemed to be misfiring after their almost kiss, all she could do was nod her encouragement.
“Legally, I can’t let you look at this,” Brady told her. “Let’s take this back to my office. It looks like going through this make take a little while.”
Amy hoped it took forever, because once they figured out what her inheritance was, she wouldn’t have an excuse to spend time with the man she was certain she’d already fallen for.
Chapter Sixteen
Leaving Amy in his office, Brady went in search of Gerald’s coffee. Not that he was thirsty, but he’d needed an excuse to put some distance between himself and the woman he was desperate to make love to… even in a file room.
When he got back, balancing two steaming cups and a plastic sleeve of chocolate chip cookies, he was not happy to find Gerald in his office and Amy laughing at something he’d said.
Brady did his best to ignore the wave of jealously that tightened his chest. Striving to keep his tone light, he interrupted their conversation. “A little help?”
Both hurried over to help him.
Oblivious of Brady’s tension, the remnants of amusement twinkled in Amy’s eyes. Gerald, on the other hand, looked worried. No doubt because he’d been caught flirting.
“Did you need something, Gerald?” Brady asked coldly.
“I know you’re busy.” Gerald fiddled nervously with his bowtie.
“I am.” Brady stared him down, willing him to leave.
Gerald held his ground. “It’s just that this is sort of time sensitive.”
“As is Ms. Winn’s business.”
Gerald flashed an apologetic smile at Amy. “I’m sure it is, but—”
“Actually it’s not,” Amy interrupted.
Brady frowned. “Considering I’m here on a Saturday, I would say it is.”
She met his gaze and tilted her head to the side, silently letting him know that she knew he wasn’t there for business, but rather for personal reasons before saying, “I’m here six months early. If that process server wasn’t dying, I wouldn’t even be in possession of the letter that brought me here. I’m in no rush and surely you can spare Gerald a couple of minutes.”
“Fine,” Brady conceded. “What’s so important, Gerald?”
Instead of speaking, Gerald placed the folder he held on Brady’s desk, flipped it open, and pointed.
Rounding his desk, Brady sank into his chair and read what the associate had indicated, keenly aware that both Amy and Gerald were watching him.
He read it twice, making sure he understood correctly as his blood pressure skyrocketed. What the hell was Eric up to? Looking up, he focused on Gerald who waited anxiously for his reaction. “Son of a bitch,” Brady muttered.
Gerald nodded.
“Son. Of. A. Bitch.” Brady leaned back in his chair and raked his hand through his hair.
“I had to tell you,” Gerald said quietly. “I couldn’t just pretend I hadn’t seen it.”
Brady nodded. “Does anyone else know?’
He shook his head.
“You were right to come to me. I’ll take care of it.”
“How?” Gerald asked curiously.
Brady swiveled in his chair so that he could glare out at the city skyline instead of at the damning file on his desk. “I’ll figure something out.”
“Well if you need anything…” Gerald said awkwardly.
Even though he had his back
to him, Brady could tell that the bowtie-loving associate was moving toward the door of the office.
“You know where to find me,” Gerald said. “It was a pleasure to see you again, Ms. Winn.”
“Amy,” she corrected. “And thanks for the coffee.”
“My pleasure, ma’am.”
Brady rubbed the side of his head, trying to banish the tension headache he could feel forming. If he didn’t do this right, the firm could be in big trouble. If he handled it the wrong way, he could lose his job and a positive reference for a new job.
He didn’t know how long he’d stared out the window, but suddenly he remembered that Amy was sitting behind him.
He spun the chair around to face her. “I’m sorry about that.”
She shrugged, her dark eyes searching his face. “Stuff happens. You should try the coffee. It’s good. It might help your headache.”
“How do you know I have a headache?”
“Because you’re trying to bore a hole through your skull with your fingers.” Putting her coffee down on the floor, she stood up, walked around his desk and held out her hand, palm upward. “Give me your hand.”
He hesitated, thinking that what he really wanted to do was grab her wrist, pull her into his lap, and continue that kiss from the file room. He was pretty sure he’d forget about his headache, and Eric, and the rest of the world if he did.
“C’mon,” she teased with a warm smile. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
He placed his hand in hers and it felt like a jolt of electricity jumped between them. He knew she felt it too from the way her entire body stiffened and her smile faltered.
Wordlessly, she grabbed his hand, behind the webbing between his thumb and forefinger, and squeezed hard.
“Ouch,” he complained mildly.
“It’s an acupressure spot. It should help.”
“If you say so.”
She chuckled, the sound a balm to his frayed nerves. It did more for relieving his tension than her ministrations. He found himself taking a deep breath and relaxing.
Convinced she’d done her job, Amy released his hand and sat back.
Brady’s gaze strayed toward the file Gerald had brought him. “I really am sorry about the interruption.”