His Father's Son

by Ruth Langan

  Cam hoped his annoyance didn’t show. The last thing he wanted, after a meal of fish and chips and a hot fudge sundae, was to stand around at a boring party talking about a court battle he’d already waged and won.

  He murmured the appropriate words of pleasure at meeting everyone before being led away by his hostess. Across the room he was forced to listen in polite silence while Elise’s uncle replayed every highlight of a trial in which he’d been awarded one of the highest settlements in the district.

  Nearly an hour later Cameron used a lull in the conversation to turn to Elise. “Sorry. I’m afraid I have to leave.”

  Her pout was more pronounced. “Since tomorrow is Saturday, you can’t claim to have a morning court appearance. What could be more important than spending time with me? Especially since it’s my last night in town.”

  He merely smiled. “There are half a dozen guys here drooling every time you move. The minute I leave you’ll be so busy, you’ll forget my name.”

  She started to walk with him to the door until she was stopped by one of the partners in Cam’s firm.

  Cam leaned close to whisper, “See? Told you.” He brushed a kiss over her cheek and made his getaway while she was too busy to stop him.

  When he stepped out the front door he found Summer on the steps waiting for her car.

  She looked over. “Leaving so soon?”

  He grinned. “Yeah. I’ve got this homework I agreed to do over the weekend.”

  “Poor baby. I’m sure it’s going to get in the way of your fun.”

  “Not at all. I’ve always loved reading police rap sheets and delving into dysfunctional family histories.”

  His zany sense of humor was so unexpected, she burst into laughter.

  Just then her car came to a stop at the foot of the steps, and the valet stepped out, holding her door.

  As she settled herself inside Cam leaned in the window. “You ought to laugh more often, Summer.”

  She felt a little thrill along her spine and blamed it on the fact that he’d caught her by surprise. “Why?”

  “You have a great laugh. It just…ripples.”

  “And you have a great line. In fact you probably have a million of them. All just rolling off your tongue like little pearls.”

  “Yeah. That’s me. Smooth as champagne.”

  “I’ve noticed. That’s why you and Elise make such a great pair. Speaking of my sister, I’m surprised she let you get away. She’s usually more persuasive than that.” Summer put her car in gear. “Happy reading.”

  As she drove away she watched his reflection in her rearview mirror. She’d give him this. He was certainly easy to look at.

  But then, Elise had always had a fondness for rich, handsome jerks.

  Cam was yawning as he opened the first file labeled Alfonso Johnson. After two glasses of champagne, he was moving like a slug. He promised himself he would only read the first few pages, then give in to the need to sleep.

  Three hours later, the lights were still on in his old room as he read through hundreds of pages of Alfonso’s files, beginning with the family court documents and continuing through police records of early arrests for break-ins and petty larceny. At age sixteen, he’d been convicted of robbing a neighborhood grocery store of beer and cigarettes. Two other minors were involved, but the court had charged all three as adults. After six months in jail, Alfonso had returned home and apparently had stayed clean for almost two years. Then at eighteen he was convicted of stealing a car and did time for that. Back home, he married his childhood sweetheart, the mother of his three-year-old son, got a job and appeared to have turned his life around. Then when his son was five, he’d been identified in a police lineup as the triggerman in a robbery gone bad that ended with a police officer killed.

  Cam rubbed his eyes and tossed the file aside. He wasn’t ready to read the details of the officer’s death or the trial that followed. There may be some who figured it was enough to know that Alfonso Johnson would be doing hard time in prison for the next twenty-five years of his life. But at least he still had a life. What about the police officer? What of his family? Had they been blessed with a strong, loving mother? A tireless, devoted grandfather? Had anyone been there to help them over the rough spots?

  He glanced at the bedside clock, annoyed that he was wide awake at three in the morning.

  He made his way downstairs to the kitchen. Once inside he set the kettle on the stove and walked to the big bay window to stare at the faded basketball hoop.

  “A little early for shooting hoops, isn’t it, boyo?”

  At the sound of Kieran’s voice he turned. “Yeah. I wouldn’t want to wake the neighbors. What’re you doing up, Pop?”

  “I heard your footsteps. Thought I’d join you for a spot of tea.” The old man glanced up when the kettle whistled. “I’ll get the tea and pot, you get the cups.”

  The two worked together in companionable silence, making the tea, waiting while it steeped, then carrying it to the big trestle table, where they settled themselves.

  “You’ve made your mother happy by agreeing to look into this boy’s trouble.” Kieran lifted the steaming cup to his lips and drank.

  Cam stared into his cup. “The boy’s caseworker, Summer O’Connor, is a piece of work.”

  “Summer, is it?” Kieran studied his grandson’s frown. “I take it the two of you didn’t hit it off.”

  “You might say that.”

  “What’s the matter, boyo? Didn’t she take to your Irish charm?”

  “She was having none of it.” He sipped his tea. “A funny thing. She was at the birthday party tonight in Georgetown. She turned out to be the older sister of Elise Wentworth.”

  “You don’t say?” Kieran chuckled. “Does she approve of her little sister’s boyfriend?”

  “I’m not Elise’s boyfriend. We’re just friends. Her uncle was a client, and he introduced us. I think he was hoping we’d hit it off.”

  “And did you?”

  Cam shook his head. “Elise isn’t my type.”

  “Like her sister.”

  Cam’s frown grew. “Funny. They don’t seem at all alike. Elise is a party girl. She and her mother are leaving tomorrow for Paris. But Summer is all business.”

  “Dull, I suppose.”

  Cam sat back, considering. “Why would a woman who grew up in a mansion want to spend her days dealing with troubled kids from a ghetto?”

  Kieran shrugged. “Why would a man working for one of the finest law firms in the city want to waste his time on helpless cases?”

  “It’s not a waste of time, Pop. So far we’ve had almost a dozen convictions overturned.” The minute the words were out of his mouth, he turned to see his grandfather smiling. “Okay, I get your point, Pop.”

  Kieran’s smile widened. “I’m sure it’s the same for this social worker. If she saves even one troubled kid, she’ll feel that her time was well spent. It’s what life’s all about, boyo. We can work for money or we can work for the things that really matter.” He drained his cup, then got up and crossed to the sink. “I think I’ll grab a little more sleep. You might want to do the same.”

  “Yeah. Good night, Pop.”

  When he was alone Cam sat brooding. He didn’t know what annoyed him more. The fact that he had to spend the weekend finding a way to keep Tio Johnson with his grandmother, or the fact that he couldn’t seem to get Summer O’Connor out of his mind.

  Chapter 4

  Summer settled herself at her desk and opened Tio’s file. She’d spent the weekend reviewing all the information on his family background. The boy had been only five years old when his father was sent away to prison. His mother disappeared immediately after the trial, and the little boy’s paternal grandmother, Willetta Johnson, petitioned for custody. She had been the only family member on either side to come forward and accept responsibility for the boy. After a brief background check, custody was granted.

  The boy’s early school records seeme
d normal enough. He’d engaged in the usual fistfights on the playground. His grades had never been good, but at least they were passing until, at age ten, he’d begun a pattern of truancy that had escalated until this year, at age twelve, he had missed more classes than he’d attended. A representative from the school reported the truancy to the boy’s grandmother, who was able to uncover the reason. The boy had been hitching rides to McCutchin Prison, nearly two hours from his home, to visit his father. Not only was he missing school, but he was putting himself in jeopardy by accepting rides with strangers.

  Summer knew she was on solid ground by suggesting that the grandmother’s custody be revoked. The woman had known about this problem for two years and had been unable, or unwilling, to solve it. She’d been given sufficient time, Summer thought, to change this dangerous behavior, if in fact she’d really wanted to.

  If she couldn’t control the boy, the juvenile system would.

  Summer had arrived at her office half an hour earlier than usual just so she would be prepared for this Monday morning meeting with Cameron Lassiter.

  Not a meeting, she corrected herself. It was a confrontation. And she’d do well to keep that in mind when he decided to pour on the charm.

  He’d asked if they could use his mother’s office, but Summer had refused. She had too much respect for Kate Lassiter to drag her into this. Unless she was mistaken, it could very well lead to a bloody, no-holds-barred battle of wills. There was no point in stacking the deck against herself by having Kate acting as intermediary.

  Summer’s office was as dingy as the others in the state-run agency. Peeling paint. Ugly metal desk. File cabinets that didn’t close.

  She didn’t mind. She’d rather see the money go to the families they were trying to serve. Of course, she reminded herself, there was never enough money to go around. With public assistance, food stamps and a city-wide program to pay for heat during the winter, the people were still struggling just to make ends meet.

  Still, she hadn’t given up hope. If just one child got an education or just one family was able to hold together despite all the odds, it was a reason to celebrate.

  Outside the dirty window overlooking the parking lot she saw the flash of a red car. A moment later she heard that deep-throated laughter and the answering sighs of the women in the outer office announcing the arrival of Cameron Lassiter.

  When he paused in her doorway she felt an odd little flutter of her heart and told herself it was the rush of adrenaline, the anticipation of the coming battle.

  She sat up straighter.

  “Good morning.” With his attaché case in one hand, he crossed the room and brought his other hand from behind his back, holding out a single red rose.

  Summer had to struggle to keep the pleasure from her eyes. “Sorry. I don’t keep any vases handy. We so rarely get flowers here at work.”

  “I know. That’s why I brought this. Figured it would brighten your desk.” He glanced around and spotted an empty cup from a gourmet coffee shop located in Georgetown. He studied the label. “Café latte. Good choice. This ought to do it.” He stepped into the hallway and filled the cup with water from a cooler, then returned and set it in the middle of her desk.

  She refused to look at it. Instead she folded her hands atop the open file folder. “I hope you found time from your busy social calendar to complete your weekend assignment.”

  His grin was quick and deadly. “Yes, teacher.”

  She sighed. The more he tried to be charming and funny, the more determined she was to keep this on a purely professional level. “I assume, after reading Alfonso Johnson’s rap sheet, you’re prepared to concede that he is the last person who should be influencing a troubled boy.”

  Cam crossed one leg over the other, balancing the file folder on his lap as he began to thumb through the pages. “That was my first thought. According to these files, he appears to have graduated from petty larceny to grand larceny, and then to murder.”

  She nodded, pleased and more than a little surprised at how quickly his attitude had changed. “Then you agree with me that it would be best to terminate Tio’s grandmother’s custody in favor of a juvenile facility.”

  “Not at all.”

  Her head came up. Cam could see the way her eyes went from cool to stormy.

  “I see. You’re one of those arrogant lawyers who just has to win every argument, no matter what the cost to the other side.”

  He merely smiled. “If you think that, Summer, you don’t know me at all.”

  Her voice chilled by degrees. “Nor do I care to.” She snapped the file folder closed and shoved back her chair before standing. “I think this meeting is over. You didn’t come here to be reasonable. You came here to teach Tio’s idiot social worker a lesson.”

  He took a moment to set his file aside before getting to his feet and coming around her desk. His voice was deceptively soft. “As I told you at the time, I’m sorry about that comment. It was said in a moment of stupidity.”

  “I’m sure you have many such moments.”

  His lips curved. “Yeah. Too many to count.”

  His admission was unexpected.

  He further caught her off guard by offering his hand. “I hope you’ll accept my apology.”

  She didn’t want his apology. Nor did she want to shake his hand. But she felt backed into a corner. If she didn’t at least make the attempt, she would appear unbending.

  She placed her hand in his. A mistake. The heat that shot along her arm caught her com pletely by surprise. Instead of releasing her hand, he stepped closer. Just enough to have her backing up before she caught herself and stood her ground.

  She looked up to find his eyes crinkled with unspoken laughter. That only caused her to lift her chin a fraction.

  “I’m sorry to have wasted your time.” She knew her voice sounded stiff and prim, but she was feeling far too intimidated by those laughing blue eyes and the way he stood here, invading her space without a trace of remorse.

  “Any time I’m in the presence of a beautiful woman, it’s hardly a waste of time.”

  “Your smooth lines are wearing thin.” She withdrew her hand and started to turn away, then felt his hand at her shoulder.

  She spun back, her eyes as cold as shards of ice. “I told you. This meeting is over.”

  “You didn’t let me finish. I spoke with Warden Novicky about the fact that Alfonso Johnson’s minor son was visiting without proper clearance. As you are well aware, a minor child must be accompanied by an adult when visiting a prisoner. It seems that a few of the guards are aware of it and willing to look the other way. Not because Johnson is a model prisoner, you understand. Far from it. But they seem to feel that the visits are as good for the son as they are for the father.”

  “I see.” Her voice was pure ice. “Now we have prison guards acting as psychologists and bending the rules whenever it suits them.”

  Cam sighed. “I asked the warden to consider having Tio’s name removed from the list of approved visitors. He said he would review the case and take it under advisement.” He nodded toward the file on her desk. “Because the warden also had some interesting things to say about the importance of keeping contact between prisoners and their families, I’ve recorded our discussion for your perusal. I think when you’ve finished reading what he said, you’ll agree with me that it is in both their interests to allow the boy to remain with his grandmother, and to visit his father as often as he can.”

  Summer was already shaking her head. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Give me one good reason you changed your mind.”

  “According to the warden, Johnson is bitter, hostile and often considered just this side of dangerous. But he’s a caring father. And probably the only hope Tio has of not finding himself in the same circumstances one day. If it’s your job to help the kid find his way through this maze, Alfonso Johnson might be your best friend.”

  “Or my worst nightmare.” Summer swallowed. “I’ll read y
our report. And then I’ll make my recommendations.”

  “Thank you.”

  When he didn’t move, she gave him a chilling look. “I’d like you to leave now.”

  “Yeah, I know. I can see that in your eyes.” His smile was quick and dangerous. “How about what I’d like?”

  “I don’t care what you’d—”

  The words died in her throat when he dipped his head and brushed her lips with his.

  Her eyes went wide and stayed that way, fixed on his. She didn’t blink. Didn’t move.

  Against her lips he murmured, “You’re supposed to breathe.”

  She couldn’t. Nor could she think. She supposed she ought to pull away. Act indignant. Slap his face. Instead, she stood, frozen in place, as the most amazing splinters of fire and ice danced through her veins.

  He nuzzled her lips. She tasted like summer rain. All cool and clean and fresh. With just a hint of tart lemon. The effect was startling.

  Though he knew he’d overstepped his bounds, he couldn’t step back. He found the combination of shock, outrage and gradual acquiescence in her unbelievably erotic. Beneath that cool facade he could taste the stirrings of passion. Hot. Sweet.

  For the first time in ages he found himself wanting to forget all the rules and simply take and take until he was filled with this woman. For a moment the temptation was so great, he swayed against her, feeling the brush of her breasts in every part of his body.

  He lifted his head and stared into her eyes, watching the way her vision seemed to blur, then focus, before narrowing on him with a fire that had him grinning.

  She was surprised to find her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She could feel a tingling all the way to her fingertips. “As a lawyer you have to be aware that if I wanted, I could slap you with a harassment suit for that.”

  “Oh, yeah. I can see how much you resented this.”

  That had the heat rushing to her cheeks.

  His tone softened. “I’m sorry if I offended you. But I’ll be damned if I’ll apologize for that kiss.”