Viveka snickers and moves past me toward the kitchen. “Did you eat dinner? I was just getting ready to heat up a Lean Cuisine.”
“I’ll pass,” I say. “Want to go out for Mexican instead?”
“Oh, you mean like a date?” she smart-asses me.
“Yes, like a date. That ends with me bringing you back here to do all kinds of dirty things to you.”
“That sounds lovely,” she says genially, and I love the fact she’s not irritated I just showed up on her doorstep, nor that I didn’t make any formalized plans with her after lunch.
But I was telling her the truth. I was concerned she was upset about Midge’s involvement in the pecker case, and I wanted to give her a tiny bit of space. But fuck… as the day went on and I hadn’t heard from her, I knew I needed to alpha-up my game a bit and take matters into my own hands.
I decided to do this after talking to the two main women in my life.
First, I went to Midge’s office when I got back from lunch as I needed to know if she was truly okay with me seeing Viveka. Yes, it’s probably not completely kosher and well, fine… it’s probably unethical. But Midge has always been a rule bender, if not an outright breaker. She’s always pushed the envelope and gone after what she wanted. I watched her silently support Leary when she and Reeve screwed around with each other while battling out a very important case that was also worth millions of dollars.
Still, I needed to hear it from her, because no matter how much I like Viveka, I would step back if Midge asked me to.
Luckily, she did not.
“It’s not a big deal,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders from where she sat behind her desk. I hadn’t even bothered to sit down in a guest chair, even though the invitation with a sweep of her hand was there when I first gained entrance to her world. I had walked right up to her desk, bent over to place my palms flat, and asked, “Do you want me to stop seeing Viveka?”
But it was a big deal, and we both knew it. She explained it away, though. To her, it was a matter of risk analysis. “This case is going to boil down to the experts, and we both know that’s usually who has the most money. Drake has the most money. Our experts will sway the preponderance of the evidence. We’re most likely going to win.”
Fuck, it was like a punch to the gut when she said that, and that in and of itself was very concerning to me. I’m a competitive man. I like winning. I hate losing. And yet, the thought of Viveka losing this case caused a visceral reaction inside of me.
I swept that aside and focused on Midge, though. “But that land is worth millions, and you were going to make even more millions on that subdivision. I don’t think you should take this that lightly.”
Midge gave me a sly smile and sat forward in her chair. She crossed one leg over the other, steepling her fingers in front of her face while her elbows pressed into the armrests. “I’m aware of that, Ford. I appreciate your concern. But you can consider me aware of the conflict. I’m not concerned about it.”
Her blue eyes, not like Viveka’s but a color that reminds me of denim and steel—tough and beautiful—stare at me appraisingly, waiting for some facial reaction to clue her in on my thoughts. But I’ve got a poker face, and I’m not about to give away that her answer was very, very important to me, not only to maintain my loyalty to Midge and the case, but so I could pursue Viveka now rather than later.
“I’ve got work to do,” she announced as she snagged a document from her desk and kicked her feet up on her desk. She settled back in her chair and didn’t look at me again.
I had been dismissed, but this was typical. I wasn’t offended.
We choose a restaurant not far from Viveka’s house that she’s eaten at before. After we’re served margaritas along with some chips and salsa, I tell her about my meeting with Midge.
She listens quietly and when I’m finished, she asks me one very simple question. “Are you sure about us doing this?”
“I’m sure.” My answer was just as simple and didn’t need any thought. I would have walked away from Viveka—temporarily, of course, until the case was finished—but I really didn’t want to.
I have to ask her back. “Still have concerns?”
I get a half-shrug as she picks up a salted chip and scoops up some salsa. “I don’t have personal ties to the case other than my love of animals. You’re the one with the bigger conflict. If we both understand we’re going to work our asses off and are willing to let the chips fall where they may, then I’m good.”
“Like it that much, do you?” I tease, puffing my chest out and pointing at my body with both thumbs.
She picks up another chip and throws it at me. It bounces harmlessly off my chest, and there’s something remarkably comforting about the fact we can tease each other this way while discussing a serious subject.
“So Leary went down this path, huh?” she asks. “Hard fought battle against her opponent and lover.”
I snag the chip that had fallen from my chest to the table, dipping it the salsa. “That was a little different. Leary was deeply and emotionally invested in that case. And when Reeve came after her client in court, well… it got ugly between them for a bit. But they worked it out.”
I go on to tell her the details of the case, because she’s a lawyer and fascinated by that. It was a medical malpractice case where an unqualified doctor botched a breast reduction surgery on a woman that left her pretty maimed. That woman was a dear friend of Leary’s, so it was a lot different from what we’re dealing with. While I might empathize a bit with the poor red-cockaded woodpecker’s plight, I’ve got zero emotion tied to this case.
“Leary seems really cool,” Viveka says with a smile. She forsakes the chips and drinks some of her margarita, her tongue poking out briefly to swipe at some of the salt. Christ, that’s sexy.
And yeah… Leary is the coolest. While I have no hesitation in sharing the details of my meeting with Midge, I will never tell Viveka about the second meeting I had today. It was with Leary, and it had very much to do with this case and my developing feelings for my opponent.
I’d walked into Leary’s office, shut the door, and said, “Remember you owe me for the Lamaze class, and I’m getting ready to ask you to pay up big time.”
She nodded with a wary gaze, prepared to do my bidding.
I dropped a check for five grand, written from my personal account, on her desk. It was made payable to Leary.
She picked it up and studied it for a second, but then her eyes snapped to mine. “You’re paying me for going to Lamaze class?”
My best friend isn’t that dense and is teasing, but I didn’t feel like engaging in her sport. I just told her what I needed. “Deposit that in your account. After, I want you to make an anonymous donation to Justice for All Animals, and I want you to stipulate that the money has to be used in the pecker case.”
Normally, Leary would have snorted over the word pecker because she can still be juvenile sometimes. Instead, her eyes hardened and her lips thinned with dismay.
“That is highly unethical,” she said in a low voice. “You cannot help fund a case you’re opposing, especially when Midge is directly involved.”
“I’m not funding it,” I replied simply. “You are. I’m merely giving you a gift, and you can do with it what you want.”
Translation: you better give it to Justice for All Animals exactly as I told you to do.
“I can’t do that either, Ford,” she practically hissed at me, yet she never handed that check back. She kept it pinched between her forefinger and thumb, waving it wildly while she tried to educate me on all the ways it would be unethical and shady for anyone in this firm—much less a partner like herself—to help an opposing case.
When she finally wore herself out lecturing me, I asked, “Will you do it?”
“You know I will,” she muttered, and then she called me an asshole under her breath.
“I love you, too,” I replied with a smile as I walked out of her office.
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As I sit across from Viveka, sharing stories and drinking margaritas, I have not one single regret about what I did. Viveka will be able to hire an expert. She won’t get much for five grand, and her expert will never compare to the five I’ll be hiring at Drake’s direction, but at least she won’t be helpless.
Besides, I’ve come to figure Viveka out over the last week. We’ve done more than just fucking. We’ve talked, and talking is so much more than just words. It’s about tone, passion, and sincerity. I’ve also learned a lot about her character, and I know one thing.
Viveka doesn’t have a lot of money, but I guarantee she’d pull money out of her retirement to hire an expert witness because that’s the type of woman she is. She’s going to fight for that little underdog of a pecker, even at her own expense in time, effort, and money.
“Things have got to change,” Viveka says, and I blink several times trying to understand what she’s saying. I’d sort of zoned out thinking about my meeting with Leary today and my totally shady request for help.
“What needs to change?” I ask carefully, not wanting to do or say anything to ruin any progress we’ve made together, especially given our unique circumstances as we battle this case out.
“You,” she says, pointing a chip at me with a lopsided smile. “We’ve known each other exactly a week. We’ve seen each other six of those seven days. You have intimate knowledge of my body, and I yours. But it suddenly occurred to me, in all the talks we’ve had, we’ve never really discussed you. You know all about me, my upbringing, my family, my divorce. But I really don’t know anything about you other than you used to bang your best friend. Let’s remedy that.”
I bust out laughing and continue chuckling even as the waiter appears with two sizzling cast iron platters of fajitas. She got chicken, and I got steak.
I wait for all the fixings to get set up and the waiter to leave before I ask, “What do you want to know?”
“Everything,” she says with twinkling eyes. “Start with your childhood, though.”
I start loading up my first fajita. “I’ll give you the simple version because it’s not all that glamorous or exciting. Born and raised in Ohio. My dad was a highway patrolman, and my mom was their station’s secretary. There was a little hanky-panky there. Mom got pregnant with me, and they got married. Forty-one years later, they’re still married, maybe not over-joyously happy but they’ve got a really good relationship.”
“Siblings?”
I nod. “Brother who is a doctor and sister who is a schoolteacher.”
And then she has a million questions, and she doesn’t hold back peppering me with them. It takes us a long time to eat our fajitas because of it. It’s cool by me, though, because talking to Viveka is not a chore. Sharing information about my fairly normal family isn’t either. Because she listens with rapt interest, I keep talking.
We stop at one margarita each. We both eat most of our fajitas. It’s almost two and a half hours later when we get back to her house.
It’s several hours and many orgasms later before we go to sleep.
CHAPTER 14
Viveka
The moment I pull myself out of my car and stare over the roof of it at my office, I know it’s going to be a crappy day.
The hole through the front window is a good indication. Leaning back into my car with a sigh, I grab my purse and briefcase from the passenger seat, then make my way inside to see the extent of the vandalism.
My rent in this strip is affordable because I’m in an area of the city that has a few unsavory characters around. It’s something I easily adapted to, especially with Frannie giving me pointers. It usually means I don’t walk out to my car if it’s dark unless Frannie is watching. If she’s not available, I have on occasion called the police. They never seem to mind. I also carry pepper spray, and I stay hypervigilant of my surroundings at all times.
Given all of that, I have sort of lapsed into perhaps a false sense of security because in the eleven years I have been here, my office has never been vandalized.
I unlock the front door, the deadbolt squeaking loudly as I turn the key. The minute I step inside, I see the offending weapon. A brick had come through the window. It managed to land perfectly in the middle of my desk. Thankfully, it missed the computer monitor sitting six inches to its left.
I also immediately realize this is not a typical vandalism as there seems to be a white piece of paper rubber-banded around the brick.
A message?
Minutes later, I’m dialing the police department and asking for someone to come out to take a report. Had it not been for the note wrapped around the brick, I would have merely turned this over to my landlord to fix. But when someone scrawls a personal message—Die, Cunt—on a brick that comes through the window, I kind of feel the need to at least have the police acknowledge what happened. That way, there will be a paper trail in case anything else occurs.
The front door of my office flies open, and Frannie storms in. “What in the hell happened?”
I hand her the note I’d been holding onto after I unwrapped it from the brick. Frannie reads it, and her hand flutters at the base of her throat as she peers at me with worried eyes. “Who did you piss off?”
I shrug. In my line of work, I’ve pissed off a lot of people.
“It could be the man I sued so his wife could have custody of their dog in their divorce proceeding, or the thug I helped the DA prosecute for animal cruelty because he was running a dogfighting ring, or hey… it could be the real estate developer I just sued to save an endangered woodpecker. Take your pick.”
No lie. It could’ve been any one of those people and probably half a dozen others. My money was on the man who doesn’t want to give up custody of the dog in the divorce, though. Divorce proceedings are some of the nastiest types of law anyone will ever practice. Throw the love of an animal in there, and I’m not surprised it’s taken eleven years for somebody to throw a brick through my window. I know plenty of domestic attorneys who arm themselves with guns in their desk drawers because there have been some violent people who come after them.
Surprisingly, it doesn’t take long for a patrol car to show up. Two helpful but ultimately powerless police officers come in and take the report. They’re polite and say they’ll check the surrounding businesses to see if any of them had working security cameras they could look at. They are not, however, hopeful this would yield anything because this area is so rundown the people here really can’t afford such security. We just have to kind of hope nothing bad happens.
While I talk to the police, Frannie calls the landlord, since he owns the entire strip of businesses on this block. He promises to send out a maintenance crew to at least board up the window until he can get it replaced.
When the police officers leave, Frannie turns to me and says, “What are they going to do to catch the bastard who did this?”
I give her a sympathetic smile and love her even more for her concern. “Not much they can do. No eyewitnesses and probably no security footage.”
“But surely they’ll investigate the people you might have pissed off in your legal cases?”
I shake my head. Another sympathetic smile. Poor Frannie. “Not really. I can’t divulge anything about my clients without breaching confidentiality.”
“You’re not giving them info on your clients, just the people on the other side of the cases,” she points out.
“Yeah, but to do that would reveal who my clients are, and that’s getting into a gray zone. I’d rather not.”
“You’re awful Zen about this whole someone-throwing-a-brick-through-your-window thing,” she observes with a skeptical look thrown in on top.
I shrug, a contented and somewhat sly smile curving my lips as I head into the small utility closet where I keep a broom. The broken glass spread over the floor is not going to clean itself up.
Apparently, because I am willfully refusing to explain the smile I gave her, Frannie goes ahead and gets
to jumping to conclusions.
“Oh my God. Ford Daniels is the one who put that smile on your face, isn’t he?” Her eyes are bright and twinkling, and she is truly excited for me.
I grin as I start to sweep. “He may have stayed over last night.”
“You like him,” she says in an accusing voice. Not because she would be unhappy I like a guy, but because I am holding all of this too close to the vest and being stingy with details.
A tiny laugh escapes and I assure her, “Frannie… when I figure out what this is with Ford, you are going to be the first person to know. In fact, you will be the only person to know.”
Frannie sits down in one of the guest chairs while I sweep underneath my desk. “So do you think this could get serious?”
“I have no clue. But I do really like him.”
She leans forward in the chair and pins me with that look. The one that says I can’t bullshit my best friend. “You’re not telling me something.”
I don’t even think about holding out on her. I pause in my sweeping, holding the top of the broom handle loosely in one hand and the dustpan in the other. “He’s not exactly a long-term relationship kind of guy. He’s admitted as much.”
Frannie stares at me like I’m nuts. “Who cares? Just have fun while it lasts.”
“Easy for you to say,” I chastise and turn back to my sweeping. “You’ve got a man to go home to every night.”
“You don’t need a man, Viv,” she says boldly. “You are a fierce, independent woman who can take care of herself.”
Squatting down, I sweep the glass shards I’d accumulated into a pile into the dustpan and tip it over into my garbage can.
When I stand up, I say, “Put aside his assertion he’s not long-term material, Frannie… He’s like perfect in every other way. Charming, intelligent, interested in what I have to say, doting, gallant, and oh yeah, the best sex I’ve ever had in my entire life.”
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