A Fine Balance

by Susan Johnson

  She slid behind the wheel of her red Beemer and looked up. “I’ve been threatening to leave. He won’t be surprised.”

  “Call me when you get to San Francisco.” Jack shut the car door. “I’ll give you the code to my brother’s apartment if you want privacy. Otherwise I can make reservations for you at any hotel you like. Wade will set up interviews for you in a couple of days. You decide which firm appeals to you.”

  “Seriously, do you have a trust fund?”

  “Now why would I tell you that?”

  No matter Jack Morgan was relaxed and smiling, he still gave the impression he could do maximum damage without trying very hard. “Gavin’s going down isn’t he?”

  “If I have my way, he is. I’m depending on you to help. A man was murdered, a young boy almost killed. Remington’s in on it and dirty as hell. So be careful. Once he leaves, send me the email then pack a few things and leave. I’ll have movers empty your apartment later.”

  “Gavin won’t know the client list has been sent. I have a private email account.” She smiled. “A boyfriend of mine set me up with one of those accounts that loop around the world a few times so everything’s anonymous.”

  He could have asked, why do you need that kind of account? But he smiled instead. “Excellent. I’ll wait to hear from you.” He stepped away from the car. And after she’d driven off, he walked back into Guido’s.

  Chapter 25

  It was a little past three by the time Jack was able to fetch Sam. The moment he came into sight, the pup jumped to his feet, gave a couple soft woofs--minding his manners as instructed--then wagged his tail madly until Jack reached him.

  Jack squatted down and ran his hands down the dog’s massive neck. “Thanks for your patience. It couldn’t be helped, okay? Everything good here? You didn’t eat the Chihuahua while I was busy?”

  Sam dipped his head and looked at Jack with doleful disgust.

  Jack laughed. “I get it. Chihuahua’s are beneath your notice.” Rising to his feet, he pointed down the hall. “Come on, let’s go find Guido.”

  The kitchen was quiet, the lunch staff almost finished cleaning up, dinner prep not yet in high gear; the evening crew was just beginning to straggle in.

  They were pointed in the direction of Guido’s office. Everyone they passed stopped to pet the friendly puppy and offer up prime scraps. By the time they walked into Guido’s office, Jack was holding a plate piled high with delicacies and Sam was trying real hard to be polite.

  Seated at his desk, Guido smiled. “That’s one beautiful dog.”

  “Yup. He’s a real show pony. And smart. Here you go, boy.” He set down the plate near the door. Sam shot him a questioning glance, Jack gave him a nod and the pup snapped up a meaty steak bone, dropped onto his belly and began gnawing.

  Lifting his arms, Jack rested his hands on the top of his head and slowly stretched. “Fuck, that was one serious work out.” Dropping his hands, he drew in a breath, then softly exhaled. “Thanks for the use of your apartment.”

  “No problem. Looks like you could use a drink.” Guido rose from his chair and waved Jack to a long leather sofa under the window. “Put your feet up. Whadda you want.”

  “Beer’s fine.” Jack dropped onto the soft green leather, stretched out and briefly shut his eyes.

  “Local or import?” Guido’s voice came from inside a wall cooler.

  “Fuck if I care. Just so it’s wet.”

  “The lady had needs?” Guido was smiling as he walked back with two bottles from a local brewery in his large, broad hands. A big, hairy guy, he had five o’clock shadow even after he shaved.

  “Yeah, major domination. Not for the faint of heart,” Jack murmured with a lift of his brows. “Or for those with a conscience.” Taking the bottle Guido held out, he brought it to his mouth, drained half of it in one long swallow, then looked up. “I had to improvise, so I ruined some of your classy ties and a belt. There’s money to replace them, along with some for your cleaning crew. The bedroom and bathroom are a mess. Sorry. But I got what I needed, thank you God, along with a bonus.”

  Guido stretched out in a nearby chair. “Do I want to know the details?”

  “Probably not. The lady has access to some evidence I need.” Jack shrugged. “Same old troubles at harvest time. You’ve heard it all before.”

  “Perhaps a few more troubles now that the cartels have invaded your county.”

  Jack rolled his eyes. “No shit. It used to be everyone knew everyone, business was done quietly, no-one was looking to start a war. Now, hell…I carry an arsenal in the back of my car.”

  “You don’t have to tell me about gang wars.” Guido tapped his gimpy leg. “Tell me instead about your Hallmark card lady.”

  Jack laughed. “Smooth segue.”

  “Hey, I love romance.”

  “No you don’t. You love gossip. I should have taken a picture of her to feed your addiction.” The pretense that men didn’t gossip was bogus. Some, maybe most, were like Guido. They just called it something else.

  “Damn right you should have. Tell me about her--name, statistics, you know the drill.”

  “Screw you. There’s no fucking drill. Although her name is Jillian, she’s a widow with a young son and breathtaking. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Wow. You and discretion. Since when?”

  “Since you’re goddamn drooling. Why don’t you tell me about your wedding plans instead?”

  “I don’t have any, but hey, sounds like you might. Breathtaking you say.” Guido grinned. “Give me a hint.”

  “Shut the fuck up. If there’s ever anything to tell, I will. Until then, the subject is closed.” Jack scowled. “Capisce?”

  Guido held up his hands and backed off because Jack never got heated over a woman, not even Sarah which just went to show how their marriage had probably been a mistake from the start. “On a more acceptable subject, I heard that Ray needed rescuing.”

  Jack arched his brows. “How’d you hear that?”

  “A friend of a friend who works the usual export business out of Thailand.” Guido smiled. “It helps that you knew the police colonel he said.”

  “Pichai owed me. Now I owe him. He handed over the bribes to the right people. Fortunately for Ray money still talks, although he looks like hell.”

  “He’s young. He’ll heal. Think he learned his lesson?”

  Jack snorted. “I wish. I warned him to stay away from his hacker girlfriend who also lives on the edge, but Wade tells me he already found Chrissy in bed with Ray.”

  Guido chuckled. “The kid’s wild like you.”

  “I’m not wild.”

  “Careless about rules, then. Morally ambivalent. You shouldn’t be fucking that married judge.”

  “Jesus, do you have my house wired? Not that it’s any of your business, but she’s an old friend who’s going through a rough patch.”

  “Just saying, don’t ever run for office with your lifestyle.”

  “Don’t worry.” Jack held up his empty bottle. “Are you saving your beer or what?”

  The men spent the next half hour catching up, then when Guido left to supervise the dinner prep, Jack got on his phone. He gave Wade a call with a head’s up regarding the possible use of his San Francisco apartment, asked him to think about law firms that might be in the market for a beauty queen assistant, and in general filled him in with an edited version of his lunch meeting with Megan.

  Wade said repeatedly, “Sure, okay, no problem,” and only at the last asked, “When are you coming home?”

  “Something going on?”

  “Uh-uh. I just talked to Jillian today that’s all.”

  Jack’s voice sharpened. “You talked to her because?”

  “Relax. Strictly business. I think she might sue. So if you could put in your two cents worth it wouldn’t hurt. She’s still wavering. I don’t understand such magnanimity. The bank almost stole her house.”

  Jack sighed. “She’s pure and innoc
ent and I don’t use either word lightly. She’s different from you and me. But I’ll do what I can to convince her. I’m not sure when I’ll be back though. I’m waiting for that email from Megan, then depending what’s on it, I’ll know my schedule. In the meantime, Liz is anxious to talk, so she might call you to track me down if she can’t get hold of me. She has some shit going on that’s fucking with her head.”

  “With that mother of hers, she’s had shit going on all her life.”

  “True, but that doesn’t help her immediate problems.”

  “I don’t know why I’m saying this,” Wade noted, a distinct grumble in his voice, “but do you want my help?”

  “If only. No, I’ll talk to Liz once I get home. I just wanted you prepared in the event she reaches panic stage and calls you.”

  “Do I know where you are?” A protective brother question.

  “I talked to Liz this morning and told her I’m in San Fran working on a case. Which I am. If she calls, the facts haven’t changed. With luck, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He called his mother next to check on Luis. Thankfully the boy was fine, busy with video games and the other children. His call to Ray was brief because his brother answered every question with one word answers and made an excuse to hang up in under a minute. Jack scowled. That meant Chrissy was still there.

  Jack phoned Morrie last, but the sheriff listened to Jack’s cryptic message for only a couple sentences before he said, “Save it til you get back. You could be talking Russian as far as I’m concerned. My brain isn’t translating.”

  “Work’s going well. That’s all.” Jack had no intention of talking openly on Morrie’s office phone.

  “Don’t get shot.”

  “Trying not to.”

  “Call me at home. Late.”

  “Will do.” Jack knew that meant after Morrie’s wife, Lily, was sleeping.

  Chapter 26

  “Where the hell have you been?” Remington bellowed from his office as Megan slid her purse into her desk drawer. “Three hour lunches aren’t in your contract! Get your ass in here!”

  If she needed added incentive to sell Gavin’s client list, she’d just been given it. A moment later when Megan walked into the inner office, Gavin said, “Lock the door,” and she began mentally packing her bags because locking the door meant only one thing.

  “What about your appointments?” she asked, looking for a way out.

  “I cancelled them.” He swung his chair around, spread his legs and began unzipping his pants. “Now hurry the fuck up. I’ve been waiting since one. Most bosses would dock your pay but since I’m a nice guy you can pay me back with one of your special blow jobs. You know what I mean, suck my dick slow and easy, make it good for me.”

  Consoling herself that this would be the last time she’d have to go down on him, that she was on her way out, she forced a smile and smoothly lied. “My pleasure, Gavin.” Walking behind the desk, she dropped to her knees.

  Fortunately, Gavin came like he always did in less than a minute, and as usual, blamed her for his lack of control. But she wasn’t really listening because she was reminded of her recent orgasms with Jack Morgan who was a pro when it came to control. Rolling back on her heels, she came to her feet, Gavin’s bitching only a faint distant sound. In a cavalier gesture, she wiped her mouth on her sleeve because she could buy as many suits as she wanted with fifty thousand dollars. In fact she might burn this suit as a symbolic act of independence. Suppressing a smile at the thought, she said, “If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” Like counting the minutes until five.

  “Damn right you have work to do,” Gavin snapped, zipping up again. “And I expect you to stay late to make up for your long lunch.”

  The phrase, long lunch, conjured up a variety of titillating images having to do with the noteworthy length of Jack’s stellar dick. “Yes, sir,” she said, her smile suddenly blossoming with the flush of memories.

  Gavin’s mouth twitched into a leer. “That’s what I like about you Megan. You give head with a smile. None of this feminist shit for you. Now get the hell out of here.” He flipped his fingers in dismissal. “And no more long lunches, understand? Or you’ll pay for it.”

  Who would be paying what to whom wasn’t in doubt, Megan noted as she shut the door behind her. Returning to her desk, she pulled up the client list, made a hard copy, shoved it in her purse, then switched to another screen and pretended to work.

  At seven minutes past five, Jack’s phone pinged and there it was: an email from an unrecognizable source of non-words. Jack downloaded the document, quickly scanned it, and murmured, “Holy shit.”

  A moment later, he was walking out of Guido’s office, Sam on his heels. Waving to Guido, he shouted, “Scored big time! Thanks for your help!” and moving through the quiet, shaded, pre-dinner restaurant, he exited through the front door.

  After giving Sam a chance to pee on a couple of trees, Jack opened the car door for him, waited for him to turn around a few times before he found a comfortable spot on the seat, then shut the door and got behind the wheel. Pulling away from the curb, he made a sharp U-turn and headed out to check on Hayes’s apartment.

  He was just reconnoitering—no breaking and entering; at least not this time. Taking down major players like those on Gavin’s client list required careful planning, iron-clad evidence and no mistakes. Rich men could afford good lawyers; if you gave them even the tiniest out, they’d find it.

  Hayes’s apartment building had ocean views, was in an affluent neighborhood and wouldn’t be easy to access. Parking the car down the block, he took Sam for a walk past the entrance and as if the puppy knew people were watching, he heeled at Jack’s side like a well-trained show dog.

  One of the two doormen smiled and said, “Nice dog,” so Jack stopped and let Sam wag his tail and give him his dog smile like the perfect partner in crime.

  “He eats like a horse, but he’s good natured, unlike some of the women I know,” Jack added.

  Both men laughed.

  “Better yet, he never complains.” Jack looked up the smooth expanse of windows overlooking the bay. “Fancy place you got here. Great view too.”

  “Lots of money in the Bay area.”

  “Fucking A. Must be nice. Come on, Sam. Back to the grind. I do IT so Sam gets a walk twice a day even if I’m working. One of the job perks.” A quick smile, a wave and he and Sam walked away.

  They had to circle the block to get back to the car, but Jack had seen what he’d needed to see. There was security inside as well; two men were behind the counter in the lobby. He took note, however, of a door in back with a security camera trained on it. A not unmanageable point of entry with the right kind of equipment. Also, night crews were normally smaller; he might be able to talk himself in through the lobby.

  Fortunately, with Luis safe and the client list in hand, there was no immediate need to search Hayes’s apartment. The suspects had nowhere to hide, other than behind the barricades of prestigious law firms. So first things first, give Morrie a rundown tonight and they could decide on a course of action; everything had to be super legal, no sloppy police work. Gavin’s clients liked to think they had enough money to stay out of jail, and without solid evidence, they’d be right.

  Turning in his seat, Jack said, “Ready to see your new home, Sam?”

  Rewarded with a flurry of soft barks, Jack turned the key in the ignition and set off for Philo--his first stop to check on Luis. From there, go home, call Liz, and hopefully avoid a visit. Although he wouldn’t bet a whole lot of money on that.

  He would have preferred driving directly to Jillian’s house. He wanted to tell her that he’d been thinking about her more or less constantly, that he missed her like crazy and he hoped she felt the same way. If she did, after Zeke went to bed, he’d stay the night and make them both happy. But he wasn’t some teenage kid in the throes of his first infatuation. In fact, even then, he’d never been—what was the word—captivated, foolish�
��stupid? So cool your engines, don’t be rash, do your job.

  And for maybe five seconds he was reasonable. Then he decided, fuck it. They were both adults. If Jillian didn’t want him around, she could say so. He glanced at the dashboard clock. Five forty-five. The traffic was shitty this time of day, but with luck, he could be at his mom’s in two and a half hours, home an hour or so later, then depending on Liz’s personal tumult, he might—just might—be able to knock on Jillian’s door by eleven.

  What the hell. You only lived once.

  Jabbing the control that raised the bubble gum lights on the roof of his SUV, he flicked on the siren and punched the accelerator.

  Chapter 27

  Even while attending to Zeke and her daily chores, Jillian’s thoughts were constantly drifting back to Jack Morgan. Her head was full of him: the teasing warmth in his eyes when he smiled at her, his effortless strength as he lifted her in his arms, his ease in offering her extravagant pleasure, his polite “No problem,” whenever she frantically asked for more.

  If she dared, she would have called or texted him and said, thanks. But she never quite convinced herself that she could do either with the requisite casualness. She was further deterred by the fear that Jack would say, “Jillian who?”

  Although when Wade had called to prod her into suing US Bank, he’d suggested she contact Jack for his opinion and she’d been sorely tempted. Calling Jack on a business-related matter would have given her a reasonable excuse; she wouldn’t have looked like a stalker. She would have had the opportunity then to thank him—for the hot sex, countless orgasms, one of the better hour/twenty minutes of her life.

  Aargh…as if.

  Let’s face it, she didn’t have a clue how to deal with a sex god like Jack Morgan who was lusted after by every woman who’d ever had the good fortune to experience the wonders of his indefatigable dick. How did one do casual with a man who’d perfected casual to an art form. How could she manage that conversation when her mood was so far from freaking casual it wasn’t even in the same galaxy.