She sat on the edge of the bed, holding her purse close to her chest.
“You don’t like people in your office. You guard your privacy.”
I crossed my arms. “Yes.”
“But you brought me to your home, Halton. I don’t understand why.”
I didn’t know why either, except the bottom line was I couldn’t stand the thought of her sitting alone and scared in a hotel room.
I kneeled in front of her, pulling her purse out of her tightly clenched fingers. I wrapped my hands around hers, noting how cold they were. “Because you need a friend.”
“Are we friends?”
“I think so.”
Despite the situation, she smiled. “I think so too.”
“Then you can stay here for the weekend, and we’ll figure it out. No one can get to you here, Fee. I won’t allow it.”
“I’m worried about Joanne. What if Scott goes back and gets aggressive with her?”
“I’ll take care of it. Why don’t you have a nap? Or take a bath. Or both. Relax and let me make some calls. I’ll order some lunch in a while. Anything you fancy?”
“I, ah, love Swiss Chalet.” She chewed her lip. “Scott hated it—he said it was common, and he refused to ever have it.”
“I like Swiss Chalet. There’s one close that delivers. You get some rest, and I’ll come get you when it arrives, all right?”
“All right.”
I brushed a kiss to her forehead and stood. “You’re safe, okay?”
“Okay.”
I stopped at her door. “I’m here if you need me.”
Tears filled her eyes, and she nodded.
I pulled the door shut behind me, leaning my head back on the wood.
What the hell was I thinking?
“Tell me what to do,” I said into the phone.
“Well, for starters,” Rene began. “You need to find her a place to live. She can’t live with you. That’ll give Scott all the ammo he needs to prove he’s right. What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t,” I admitted. “I just wanted to get her somewhere safe. Where she wouldn’t be alone and scared. My place was the only thing that came to mind.”
“Your heart is in the right place, Halton, but your logic is out the window.”
“I know.”
“If Scott Hutchings got wind of that, he would twist it and use it to his advantage. You know how he works.”
My head fell back against the chair. “Fuck.”
Rene hummed in agreement.
“She shouldn’t be working for you either. That might cause an issue.”
“Fuck that,” I growled. “She does great work. Why should that be an issue? There’s no conflict of interest. Her divorce doesn’t bring the firm into the case at all except that I’m representing her. He kicked her out, she needed a job, I needed a fill-in. It has nothing to do with the case.”
“He’ll twist it.”
“Then I’ll untwist it. I represented you when that asshole tried to sue you for that stupid fence you put up that he thought impeded his view. Same damn fucking thing.”
“Calm down, Halton.”
“I am calm. I can’t figure this out.”
“Figure out what?”
“What the hell is Scott thinking? He knows better. He knows the steps to end a marriage with as little fallout as possible. He’s the one fucking this up.” I paused. “Something Fee said about his eyes. I know he was drunk, but I’m wondering if there is more than alcohol involved.”
Rene grunted. “I have no idea. I’ll make a few more calls next week. I’m sure the gossip mill will have been working overtime. News of this will spread fast, and suddenly people who didn’t want to say anything will have lots of gossip to share.”
I huffed out a chuckle. “Okay.”
“You need to find her a place.”
“I will. I’m gonna make some calls.”
“Have you thought of calling Bentley?”
Bentley Ridge was a huge real estate guy. He owned a ton of places in Toronto. My office was in one of his buildings. His company built the condo tower where I lived. We were friends and did each other favors from time to time.
“Yeah, I will. I hate bothering him on the weekend, but I’ll make the call.”
Rene paused before he spoke again. “What’s going on with you, Halton? I’ve never known you to act this way toward a client. You’ve always been a great attorney, but you’ve never gotten personal.”
I rested my head against the back of the chair.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “There’s something different about her, Rene. Something about her that brings out some fucking protective gene I didn’t know I had in me. I want to kill Hutchings.”
“Are you sleeping with her?”
“No.” I stated emphatically. I wasn’t stupid and I had rules. No married women, no staff, and certainly not clients. Fiona was all three.
“Is it possible you’re developing feelings for her?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. That isn’t it at all.”
“Tread carefully, Halton. This isn’t just about you. She’s lost and confused and looking for a white knight.”
I sighed. “I will, Rene. I only want to help her.”
“I hope you remember that.”
I hung up and scrubbed my face.
Despite my assurances to him, I hoped I did as well.
I dialed Bentley’s number, not surprised when he answered right away.
“Hal. What can I do for you?”
I chuckled. We rarely wasted time with pleasantries. “Bentley, I need a favor.”
“Name it.”
“I need a place for a client to stay. Short term. But somewhere close to my office and secure.”
“How big?”
“Space isn’t a priority. Security is.”
“Time frame?”
“As soon as possible. And it would be for a couple of months, maybe a little longer. It’s a divorce case.”
“Anyone I know?” he asked dryly.
“Fiona Hutchings.”
There was a pause. “As in, Scott Hutchings? The man you loathe?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re representing his wife?”
“Soon-to-be-ex, yes.”
He whistled, long and low. “Wow. That’s going to be interesting. He’s going to blow a gasket when he finds out who she hired.”
“He already did. That’s why I need a place for her to stay.”
“Where is she now?”
“Ah, in my guest room.”
This time, the silence stretched on. “Hello?” I asked, thinking I’d lost him.
“Let me get this straight, Hal. Your client—the soon-to-be ex-wife of the man you hate—is currently sleeping in your guest room?”
“Well, I think she’s having a bath right now. Then we’re going to have Swiss Chalet. She likes that.”
“You’re having Swiss Chalet,” he repeated, sounding incredulous. “What the hell are you doing, Hal? You never let anyone in your personal space.” He hesitated. “Are you involved with her?”
“No. She’s a client in trouble. I’m helping her.”
“I’ve never known you to go to this much effort for a client.”
I was tired of having this conversation with people. “Well, there are extenuating circumstances. Can you help?”
“I’ll make some calls. Aiden will be in touch this afternoon.”
“Thanks, Bent. I owe you.”
“All I want is the whole story, Hal. Because no matter what BS you’re telling me, there is more to this than a client in trouble.”
He hung up.
I stared at the phone.
Was he right?
Fiona
I padded into the living room, more relaxed, but still feeling nervous. I was in Halton’s home. His most personal of places. I had learned in the time I had been working for him how private a person he was, so I knew this was a big
deal.
I took in the room. It was large, with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a gorgeous view of the lake from one side, and downtown Toronto from the other end of his corner unit. Tall ceilings, dark hardwood floors, clean lines, and lots of grays, navy, and black made the space comfortable, albeit totally masculine. It was the penthouse and took up the entire floor, which was hardly surprising, given how he liked his privacy. He was the only one with access to this floor, so he never had to worry about neighbors asking for a cup of sugar. He controlled who could be at his door.
Which was the reason I was still confused as to why I was here.
Halton came around the corner, his phone tucked in between his shoulder and ear. He held a bag in his hand, and smiling, he indicated the kitchen with the tilt of his chin. I followed him, unpacking the bag as he grabbed some plates from the cupboard.
“Great, Aiden. I appreciate it. Wednesday will work fine.”
He hung up and looked at the containers as he sat at the island. “I’m starving.”
“A whole chicken plus all these sides, Halton?”
He grinned and held up a container. “And pie. I love pie.”
We opened the containers and Halton dug in. I tried not to stare at him while he ate. It was almost primal the way he tore into his meal, picking up the drumstick and pulling the meat off with his teeth, dragging fries through ketchup and dunking the bun into his Chalet sauce. His manners were evident, but it was obvious how much he enjoyed his food as well.
He stopped mid-bite and swallowed, frowning at my plate. “I didn’t get the right things?”
“What? No, it’s great.”
He shook his head and pulled my plate closer to him. He added some fries, more chicken, and a roll, then pushed the full plate back toward me. “I told you I need you strong. Healthy. A salad with a little chicken on top isn’t going to cut it, Fee. Eat up.”
I picked up my fork, trying not to roll my eyes as he added even more chicken to my plate and drizzled dressing on the salad. “Better,” he mumbled gruffly and went back to eating.
For a few moments, there was only the sound of chewing and utensils scraping across stoneware. Then he spoke.
“I think I have a place for you to stay.”
“Oh?”
“My friend’s company has a spare unit in the building right behind this one. They share the same parking lot and are connected with a walkway ten floors up, so it’s convenient. BAM uses it for interns and the like on occasion. He thinks it’s available as of Wednesday. Aiden is going to confirm and will send me pictures shortly. It’s a studio, but it works since you can drive to and from the office with me, so you’re safe.” He met my gaze. “You can’t stay here with me, Fee. It would look all sorts of wrong.”
I stared at him, aghast. “I didn’t expect you to let me stay here, Halton. Even a few hours is more than I expected. I was going to make some calls this afternoon and find a hotel.”
He shook his head. “No. You can stay here until Wednesday. Downtown is booked solid for the weekend, and there is no sense in you getting a room for a couple of nights then moving back to the building. You can stay here until then.”
“I don’t want to impose.”
“You’re not imposing.” He slid a key and a pass card toward me. “You’ll need these until then. The pass card is for the building and the elevator, the key is for the condo.”
I accept them silently, feeling overwhelmed at his trust.
He emptied his plate, then took the rest of the chicken and salad and finished off the fries. He held up the last roll. “You want this?”
“Um, no.”
He frowned, looking at my plate. “Eat.”
Obediently, I picked up my fork, startling when he laid his long fingers over mine. “I’m sorry, Fee. I shouldn’t be ordering you to eat. I’m simply worried.”
I patted his hand. “It’s fine. I’m not used to being able to eat freely. Scott had me so obsessed with not eating, I forget it’s okay to want to eat something.”
“It is okay.” He stressed. “Anything you want. Name it and we’ll have it. Maybe pizza later when I get back.”
He was leaving me alone in his home?
“You’re going out?” I confirmed. “I can go wander around while you’re gone.”
He sighed. “No, Fee. Stay. Nap. Read. Relax. I want you to stay put unless you really want to go somewhere.”
“No, an afternoon of reading sounds awesome. Do you, ah, have a date?”
He flicked open the lid on a piece of pecan pie. He met my eyes while chewing and swallowing. “No. Every Saturday, I volunteer my time at a…place. It’s a group of dads who are fighting to get custody of their kids. I’m one of a couple of lawyers who donate their time and advice. I take on a few cases for free as well when time permits.”
“Halton, that’s amazing. Is there anything I can do?”
He finished his pie, closing the lid. “No. Not today, anyway.”
“I had no idea you did that. I didn’t see anything on your schedule or any pending case files,” I mused, thinking of the orderly file room.
“I keep those files in my desk. Rene knows I go there every Saturday, and I don’t like it on my schedule. I do it because it’s something I believe in strongly, not to look good. Part of the deal is I don’t talk about it. I’m just there to help someone get a chance to be with their kids. If I can help fight against the system, then my work is done.”
I could sense his hidden emotion. I slid my hand across the island, slipping my fingers through his. He stared down at our hands, but he didn’t pull away. “I sense a story, but I understand. I think it’s a wonderful thing you do.”
He stared into space for a moment. “People automatically assume the child is best left with the mother. It’s not always the case, and I help men fight for their rights. If I think their kid is better off with them than the mother, I help. Sometimes, it’s advice. Other times they need more. I make sure they get the right attorney, or I take them on—pro bono, usually. At times, all I do is listen as they talk. Sort of like therapy. There are a few other attorneys who do cases like this as well. We keep it on the down low. We’re there to help, not for the glory.”
I squeezed his hand in understanding. The man across from me was so much more than he gave himself credit for. He disarmed me with his quiet words and conviction. Halton looked up, his navy-blue eyes filled with memories of the past.
“I wish my dad had had someone to fight for him,” he said. “Instead I was stuck in a system that believed the lies my mother spouted. That stuck to the belief that the child was best left with their mother—that the father should contribute financially, and have visitation, but not be the governing influence in their life.” He barked out a pain-filled laugh. “I often wonder if I’d be as screwed up if they had allowed my dad to raise me.”
I frowned, confused. “I don’t think you’re screwed up, Halton.”
He looked down at our hands, still clasped on the cold granite. He lifted them, studying the veins on my wrist, gently tracing the faint blue lines. His touch made me shiver.
“I can’t commit to one person,” he stated, his voice low and sad. “I don’t believe in love or marriage, Fee. I’m the guy people call on when love turns to hate, because it’s what I know the best. Hate. I know how to exploit it. Get what I want from people. Pit them against each other and feed the anger. Blow the hell out of the emotions they once embraced and turn them into ash. That’s what I do.”
I was silent, digesting his words. He kept talking.
“My entire adult life is a string of emotionless encounters. A few attempts at relationships based on sex and not feeling. I’ve been very upfront with my partners, although a few of them thought they could change how I felt. But I proved them wrong. I don’t want the trap of marriage. I don’t want kids because I think the world is a messed-up place, and selfishly, I don’t want to bring another person into the craziness. I certainly don’t
want a kid who is like me in any fashion.” He sucked in a long breath. “I witnessed the way people use their kids to inflict pain on the person they used to profess to love. I know what it’s like to be the pawn in that game. I would never risk it. Ever. I will never allow myself to count on someone else. To trust any one person and allow them the chance to hurt me. I depend on myself. The one thing I care about the most in the world is me. Nobody else.”
“I don’t believe that. Not for a moment.”
His grip tightened. “Why would you say that?”
“Have you listened to yourself? What you do for people? What you’ve done for me?” I waved my hand. “You’ve let me into your home. You’ve trusted me—someone associated with a person you hate. You care about your clients. Your friends. About children. Look at the way you care about Rene. How can you call yourself selfish? Uncaring?”
He pulled his hand away and stood. “I care to a point and nothing more. Rene is a trusted friend who has proven his loyalty—he is an exception.”
“What am I?” I challenged him.
He lifted a shoulder. “Another small exception, I suppose. A client who needs more effort than others.”
“And once I reach my saturation point, you’ll stop caring?”
He sighed, dropping his head to his chest. “I do the best I can do, Fee. I’m not capable of love. It’s that simple.”
“You are so wrong.”
He snapped his head up. “I don’t believe in love, Fee. That is a fact. It’s an illusion, easily shattered, often abandoned, and rarely real.”
“But you admit it can be real? You said you had friends who are married. You must see that love can exist?”
“I suppose there are exceptions. Would you say you believe in love? After what Scott has done—” he lifted his fingers into quotation marks “—in the name of it?”
“I’m smart enough to know what Scott has done has nothing to do with love. I’m hopeful enough to think I might find real love one day. To become that person to someone—the one you would move heaven and earth for, do anything to be with.”
He smiled, the movement forced. His eyes said so much more than he could ever express.
Halton: Vested Interest #6 Page 8