“Please…whatever you do, do not fill her cup to the rim,” he sort of chuckled.
Symóne turned her head only, looking back over her shoulder at the sound of his voice and looked down her nose at him. She sighed and turned to face the girl who was already in the process of getting her coffee and bagel for her. She returned to face him with a scowl on her face, but was halted in her tracks at the look of wonder on his. His smile was that of someone looking at the sun setting across the ocean. The way her hair complimented her facial features took him by surprise. She had bangs, arched eyebrows, and nude, wet looking lip gloss. Before she could insult him, he complimented her.
“Wow, your new look suits you. I almost didn't recognize you, but your posture and unique wardrobe style, gave you away,” he smiled.
“What do you want?” she demanded.
He took an invasive step toward her, making her uncomfortable, yet breathless, as he leaned forward handing a twenty dollar bill to the girl behind her. The move was captivating and Symóne was paralyzed by his scent and closeness. He was invading her personal space, which would normally set her off on an explosive tirade. Somehow, she just couldn't bring herself to let loose on him at the moment.
She finally broke loose of his hold on her and turned to face the girl at the counter. She reached for her coffee and bagel at the same time the girl was handing Trevor his change. Symóne could feel him move closer behind her, his arm almost cradling hers as he reached for his change. She could smell his cologne as she heard him audibly inhale her scent, while feeling his suit jacket brush against her back. It sent chills down her spine, and for the first time in her life, she was speechless.
It took a moment, but she was finally able to move her lips. “Thank you,” she breathed without looking at him or waiting for his response, then side stepped to turn and walk out of the coffee shop. She rushed out of the door and stopped on the sidewalk.
“Ugh! I forgot my cream and sugar!” she said to herself.
Not wanting to go back inside and face a possible conversation, she decided that the plain cream in her office building would have to do for today. She darted into her building and stood at the elevator door, waiting for the doors to open.
“Symóne?” his voice was becoming progressively annoying. Her head dropped, then fell back as she sighed with irritation. He was walking toward her as she silently willed the doors to open before he reached her.
“You forgot your cream and sugar,” he held out the small containers of her favorites to her.
She finally looked at him just as the doors opened and glared at him.
“Do they know you stole their containers?” she snarled sarcastically.
He smiled. I don't steal, and I paid probably three times what they're worth before I took them. He continued to hold them out to her, waiting for her to take them, which she couldn't resist getting her favorite flavor added to her morning cup of pick-me-up. She took them, stepped onto the elevator, then rolled her eyes at him as the doors closed.
He shook his head with a chuckle, then headed to his own office. He was greeted by Gloria handing him a stack of files that were dropped off by one of his paralegals early this morning.
“Morning Mr. Harrison,” she chimed as she followed him into his office.
“Good morning Gloria. How was your weekend?” he asked, sitting his briefcase on the desk, and laying his laptop bag in his chair. He skimmed through the top file, apparently the one with the most important information in it, then set them on his desk. He took off his jacket and draped it over the back of his chair and stopped to face her as she patiently awaited his instructions for the day.
“It was uneventful just the way I like it. I'm well rested for this upcoming case, so let's get to it,” she smiled and gestured for him to continue.
“First, I need all of the witnesses on the list contacted to set up interviews. Try to get me at least three a day for the rest of the week. Also, draft a copy of the legal form instructing the strict releasing of information for Miss Henry's children at each of their schools. This type of case always turns up a backlash of the absent parents wanting to “stick it to them” type behavior. I don't want Miss Henry worrying about her kids being taken out of their normal routines,” he began to pace back and forth as he made sure to cover all of his bases.
“What about the coaches of their extracurricular activities?” she reminded him.
“Yes, get a letter to them as well. Although it's going to be difficult to not let this case affect the children, we are going to do our best to keep it as non-invasive as possible.”
“Knock-knock,” Vince entered Trevor's office, capturing his attention. He stopped pacing and turned to his partner.
“Security has just informed me of a suspicious guy across the Plaza. He's wearing khaki pants and a navy blue polo shirt. He's been reading the same page for over thirty minutes, while checking his watch and periodically glancing in this direction,” he started toward Trevor's wall of windows with him and Gloria following. They all looked out and spotted the man, who in no way could see them through the mirrored tinted glass.
“He's undercover private surveillance,” Trevor assumed with surety.
“Who has us under surveillance?” asked Gloria.
“My guess is Mr. Dennis and his attorney,” Trevor answered.
“Why?” she asked.
“He wants to know of all the comings and goings of this case. Witnesses, what we're doing, et cetera,” he breathed.
“I'll get to work on this, and you be careful Mr. Harrison,” Gloria turned to go out to her desk.
“Wait…Miss Gloria?” he called out behind her.
“Yes,” she half turned.
“Set those meetings with the witnesses up at the hotel conference room. Then I need for you to rent me a car for the week, a dark colored sedan,” he finished and she nodded and continued out to her desk.
“So, it begins?” asked Vince.
“It appears so. What do you have so far?” asked Trevor.
“Well, I've had our surveillance watching Mr. Dennis, his attorney and his team, and the mistresses. I'll email you the findings and video footage in a few. Right now, I need to brief you on another situation,” he raised his brows. Vince went to close the door to Trevor's office and came to stand across the desk from him.
“So what's up?”
“Miss Henry received a bouquet of roses on Saturday along with a gift box and a card.”
“From Mr. Dennis I take it?”
Vince nodded, then continued. “The gift box contained a framed photo of her and a man looking seemingly intimate at a restaurant on Friday,” he explained.
“So,” Trevor shrugged. “They've been separated for eight months now. What she does in her personal life at this point, as long as it doesn't involve upsetting her children, is her business,” he retorted.
“That's true—however, the dinner was with her son's football coach who is married,” Vince waited.
Trevor did a dramatic sigh, then asked for more information of the situation.
“Well, here's the thing. It's not as damaging as the opposing team would have anyone to believe, seeing as the coach's wife was there, but excused herself to the ladies room. They were there to show support to Miss Henry in her upcoming divorce case, and were hanging out with her on a much needed night out. What the problem seems to be, is Mr. Dennis is using this picture to threaten our client. The card attached to the roses accused her of having a fling with the coach prior to the divorce case and states that he has it in his power to make everyone, including the coach's wife believe the same thing. He suggested that she settle out of court on his terms if she didn't want to cause problems between the coach and his wife,” said Vince.
Trevor reached for the phone on his desk, about to make a call.
“Don't bother. We have the note and the framed photo. Also, Miss Henry should be here at ten this morning,” Vince smiled, then walked out. This was his partn
er's specialty, dealing with these type antics in divorce cases.
Trevor rolled his eyes with a chuckle, then sat behind his desk. He began going over the stack of files of evidence when suddenly there was a knock on the door. Time had gone by and Miss Henry was standing behind Gloria as she entered the office.
“Morning Mr. Harrison,” Patricia spoke dryly.
“Morning Miss Henry. Please…have a seat,” he gestured her to a pair of chairs in front of his desk.
“Do you need anything else, Mr. Harrison?” asked Gloria. He shook his head no, but then looked to Patricia, checking with her.
“Nothing for me, thanks,” she responded.
Gloria headed back out, closing the door behind her. Trevor closed the file he was heavily engrossed in earlier, then leaned back in his chair.
“I guess I need to explain my side of things behind what you must now know about?” she smiled shyly. He nodded.
“Well, to ease your mind, there is definitely nothing going on between Coach Warner and myself. We've known each other since high school. Stacey, his wife and I are and have been best friends for twenty years. We used to go out as couples before Sam decided that my friends weren't high class enough for him,” she sounded sad. Clearing her throat, she continued. “Mr. Harrison, I'm sure you can understand how important it is to keep great friends, even when you become a celebrity. I've never let the fact that I'm an actress, control whom I choose to associate with. I love my friends and want to keep them in my life. Is that so wrong?” she asked, almost in tears. Trevor could tell that this issue had more than likely caused some of the problems in their marriage.
“Miss Henry, there is absolutely nothing wrong with keeping great friends close to you. After all, they were there before the fame, right?” he smiled a reassuring smile. She looked up through her lashes and partially smiled.
“Miss Henry?” Trevor started, capturing her attention.
“Yes,” she responded in a whisper.
“I hear what you are telling me about your friends, however…I somehow think you have more to tell me? If so, it would be in your best interest to disclose any information, even if you think its damaging to your case. I can guarantee you that if its something your husband knows about, his attorney will bring it out in court. It would be beneficial if I'm aware so that I can prepare for a rebuttal in such situations,” he cautioned her, sensing more under this story.
She dropped her head and inhaled a deep breath. Her hands drew together as her fingers nervously intertwined with each other. Without looking up at Trevor, she began to tell what she thought would hurt her case.
“Back before I auditioned at a casting call fifteen years ago, I was engaged to Keith…um, coach Warner. When I got the part, which was for a film that was being filmed in California, I had to call off our wedding plans,” she looked down, then up at Trevor who urged her to go on.
“Well, after three months of filming, I…sort of got caught up in Sam's romantic courtship. He wined and dined me and showed me things I'd never experienced before. Every time Keith would call to check up on me, I found myself avoiding any direct answers and then, I just couldn't do it any more. Before I could go any further with Sam, I had to tell Keith what was going on. He was hurt—very hurt, but because of what he felt for me, he understood. My happiness is all he wanted. After we were through filming the movie, I had the option to go back home, or stay with Sam while he jumped right into another movie project. I felt bad for hurting Keith, so I wanted to visit him and at least talk to him face to face, out of respect. He was my friend before anything. We met up for lunch, and I began to tell him what and how things happened between Sam and I. Keith told me that if I changed my mind, that he would always be there for me. When I returned to California, Sam had taken a week long break from filming and whisked me away to Colorado to get married on top of a mountain. We spent three days in a cabin, then had to get back to California to finish filming the movie. It was almost a year later, and I had just given birth to our son Ethan, when I received a phone call from Stacey. She sounded so nervous, but I could tell that she had something important to tell me,” Patricia paused momentarily to take a much needed breath.
Trevor's cell phone kept going off with apparent email messages, which he only looked to see if they were important enough to interrupt Patricia's story, but he needed to know everything in case her husband's attorney tried to use any of it against her in court.
“I'm going to make the rest of this story short, but to the point because I know you're busy, and I'm supposed to eat lunch with my youngest daughter, Taylor. So…Stacey was calling to get my approval to go out with Keith. I was stunned at first, but then thought of how close all of us were. They were friends too, and I'm sure with the hurt I caused Keith, he talked to her and she in turned consoled him. Of course that would bring them closer and eventually start something more. I gave her my blessing and two years later, stood up for her as her Matron of Honor in their wedding. My third child and their first child were born two days apart. We all remained friends and there was never anything more than just friendship between us all. I can laugh and joke with Keith just as much as I can with Stacey. Nothing is ever awkward between us, because I would never do anything to hurt my friends. He is even my son's coach now. What I'm going through right now, I would never want to put anyone else through. So you see Mr. Harrison, the picture is nothing more than a ploy to make me seem like I have the potential to do what my husband has been doing for years,” she finally finished.
Trevor stood to his feet and walked over to the window and folded his arms across his chest, then raised his right hand up to his chin in thought. As he looked down at the sidewalk, he saw Symóne sitting on one of the outdoor benches with a sandwich and a drink, texting someone. He turned quickly to face Patricia and spoke with urgency.
“Miss Henry, I have all I need. This is something I will address and you should clearly be cautious of your public activity. Although this particular incident was purely innocent, we may not always be so lucky. Just for now, be careful,” he approached her, then gestured her toward the door, insinuating that the meeting was over. She smiled and thanked him for reassuring her.
Once she was gone, Trevor stopped at Gloria's desk and asked her to hold all of his calls, that he would be right back.
He rushed to the elevator, then out of the building, headed toward Symóne. She'd placed her phone down beside her and took the last bite of her sandwich, tossing the wrap that it was in, into the trash can right across from where she sat. Just as she raised her fruit smoothie up to take a sip from her straw, the sound of a voice caused her to tense.
“Hi there,” he spoke softly, but loud enough for her to hear over the hum of passing conversations. She looked back over her shoulder in the direction of the voice, then rolled her eyes as she turned to stand and walk away.
“Symóne, please…may I have a word with you?” he asked.
Why is this man so persistent in bothering me? She thought. The look of chronic irritation on her face was that of a woman on the verge of punching someone and claiming self defense.
Trevor felt that he needed to be direct and quick. He breathed his thoughts in hopes of making his intentions known. She only looked at him with a suggestive glare that meant he'd better get on with it or she would walk away.
“Look Symóne, I would really like the chance to get to know you better. I know that I come off presumptuous, and this is not a normal trait for me when dealing with people outside of work. What I want you to know is, you are the first woman I've pursued since high school. I don't exactly know why you just feel right, but I do trust my instincts. If you would only forward me the chance to prove to you, that you would be happy with someone like me, I promise to make it worth your while,” he paused to get her up to the moment reaction.
She turned to completely face him, looking directly into his eyes, causing him to hold his breath, then spoke.
“Mr. Harrison…”
/> “Please, call me Trevor,”
“I don't have time for this. I don't want to date and I surely don't want a relationship with…anybody. I just want to be left alone. I'm sure you're a nice guy, and with your career and stature, you could have any number of women,” she paused at a question coming to mind. “Are you after me because I pose a challenge?” she raised an accusing brow at him, a condescending smirk on her face.
He looked to be in thought, then smiled his answer. “Yes,” he chuckled. “Of course not,” he shook his head. “I would like to first, just get to know you. Then, if you turn out to be as smart as I think you are, I would like to take you on a real date. But…if you're a menacing lunatic, I would have to put out a restraining order on you and find a way to have you fired so that I wouldn't have to cross paths with you anymore,” he folded his arms across his chest and glared at her for a response.
The dramatic drop of Symóne's jaw accompanied by the scowl on her face was comical. Trevor almost lost the firm look of seriousness he tried to hold on to, as she seemed to be at a loss for words.
Suddenly, she rolled her eyes at him once more, then turned to look behind her as if someone had called her name. The slight jerking of her body, proved that she was now giggling, but didn't want him to see. She composed herself, then faced him.
“Mr. Har…, excuse me…Trevor? If I allow you to harass me with permission by giving you my number, will you go away at least for three days?” she challenged his skills.
“No. If you give me your number, I'll take that as an invitation to harass you starting immediately. Further more, if we become friends, I will feel the need to protect you from here on out,” he stated.
She frowned at his presumptions, then exhaled. “Protect me from who or what?” she demanded.
“Whatever has hurt you so bad that I had to work up a sweat to get this far,” he said seriously.
“I'm sorry, but you can not possibly protect me from that train wreck—no one can.”
“Yes, I can and I will. I told you before, if you'll let me, I will make it my personal goal to make you happy and keep it that way,” he promised with confidence.
Hostile Contact Page 4