Halton: Vested Interest #6

by Melanie Moreland

  “What?”

  He started to grin, then shook his head. “How do you want to play this?”

  I took another bite, thinking. “Fee is going to be in here. I want you at your desk. Show them into the library, and I’ll bring her in. She’s not to be alone with him. At all.”

  Rene rubbed his chin. “So Fee is playing the client, I’m the worker, and you’re the attorney? Those are our roles?”

  “Those are the facts.”

  He shook his head. “There is way more to this scenario than that. You can object and deny all you want, Halton, but I know you too well.”

  “Deny what?”

  He chuckled. “I’m going to let you figure that part out.”

  I slammed my hand on the desk. “I am sick of all the cryptic BS from everyone. Spit it out.”

  Rene studied me. “You look like shit.”

  “I’m not sleeping. I have a lot on my mind.”

  “Your client-slash-assistant looks the same way.”

  “She’s nervous. I’m sure she’s having trouble resting too. Once today is over, she’ll relax.”

  “Uh-huh.” He sat back in his chair, chuckling and muttering to himself.

  I ignored him.

  I heard Scott’s voice outside my closed door. It annoyed me more than usual. Drawing in a long breath, I slid on my jacket, pulling down my cuffs and making sure my tie was straight. I shut my eyes and used a few relaxation mind tricks I always relied on to help center my thoughts. I needed my head clear.

  I glanced at Fee. She had eaten about two bites of the sandwich I had given her. She was paler than ever, her hands fretting with the edge of her jacket and tugging on the ends of her beautiful hair. At least she wasn’t chewing her nails.

  I picked up her file. “Ready, Fee?”

  She offered me a smile, but I saw the look in her eyes. It did something to me—tore at my chest and made me want to take away the fear in her eyes.

  I didn’t think, only reacted. I stepped close and pulled her into my arms. She flung her arms around my neck and buried her face into my chest. I felt the tremors that ran through her body, and I tightened my hold.

  “Together, Fee. We’re going to face this bastard together. He doesn’t get to push you around anymore, and he doesn’t determine your self-worth. You do. I do. And I think you’re fucking priceless.”

  She glanced up at me. I cupped her face and broke my own rule. I lowered my mouth to hers and kissed her. Gently. Sweetly. Showing her, without words, how important she was.

  I lifted my head and gave her a minute to gather herself. Rene opened the office door and poked his head in. He met my narrowed eyes, lifting his eyebrows a little, then nodding. He tilted his chin toward the library.

  “They’re ready.”

  I glanced down at Fee. “Okay?”

  She stepped back and blew out a long breath.

  “Ready.”

  I winked. “Okay, FeeNelly. Let’s do this.”

  Fiona

  Scott sat beside his lawyer, his expression fierce. I felt his anger simmering below the surface, but as instructed by Halton, I didn’t engage. Halton led the way into the library, courteously pulling out my chair and waiting for me to sit before settling into the chair beside me.

  “Gentlemen, thank you for agreeing to meet here.”

  Jonas Peters smirked. “You didn’t really give us much choice, Hal.”

  Halton lifted one shoulder, dismissing his words. “Nonetheless. Now, let’s not waste any time. I’ll keep this simple. Your client asked for this divorce. My client isn’t fighting his request, but we are seeking fifty percent of all marital assets, including Scott’s shares in his firm.”

  Jonas slid a document Halton’s way. “I have a signed waiver showing that Mrs. Hutchings agreed not to go after anything to do with the firm in the event they parted ways.”

  Halton leaned back, not at all worried. “It was signed under duress. Which I can prove.” He flipped open a file. “I have medical records showing your client didn’t always treat his wife with the greatest of care. Also, newer pictures from last week’s assault. You might want to reconsider your options.”

  I lost track of the conversation after that. Scott began to curse, Jonas spoke to him quietly, then he and Halton began throwing around terms and conditions, both talking so fast, their words combined with fists being thumped on the hard, wooden table, rapid hand gestures, raised voices, and veiled threats.

  It was all I could do to sit there and listen to my marriage—my life—being reduced to this. Accusations, anger, and value. That was what it boiled down to. He said, she said. Ten years of life spread on a table filled with documents, surrounded by regret and pain. It was only Halton’s presence, the feeling of his solid body beside me that kept me in my place. I could feel his warmth, his strength, and his determination as he spoke. His voice was clear and smooth. There was no hesitation on his part whether he was questioning or responding. He was in complete control, appearing almost relaxed as he presided over the meeting.

  In contrast, Scott was a mass of anger across the table from me. He was red-faced and sputtering, despite his attorney’s attempts to keep him calm. I felt the hatred in Scott’s glare, but I refused to let him see how he affected me. I sat straight, my legs crossed, my body unconsciously angled toward Halton. Scott fidgeted, slouched, straightened, played with his tie, then slouched again. He grunted, muttered under his breath, and conferred with his attorney, often pointing his finger in my direction. Every time he did, I felt Halton’s leg press against mine, his silent support appreciated.

  Scott’s knee bounced continuously, so much so, I wanted to say something. He ran his hand through his hair every few moments, tapped his fingers on the table, and rolled his head on his shoulders. I had never known him to be so out of control. He cleared his throat and I knew he wanted me to meet his stare. Finally, I lifted my eyes to his, dropping my gaze quickly at the wild look in his gaze. It made me shudder, and beside me, Halton shifted, subtly moving closer.

  Scott stood. “I need the can.”

  Halton stopped mid-sentence, his eyebrows lifting at Scott’s rudeness. “Through the reception area. Rene will direct you.”

  Jonas stood. “We’re almost done, Scott.”

  Scott shook his head. “Now.”

  I frowned at the unusual conversation. Scott strode from the room, his steps hurried. He opened the door so quickly, it slammed against the wall.

  Jonas stared after Scott and offered us a tight smile. “When you gotta go, you gotta go.”

  “So it appears.”

  Halton turned in my direction. “Do you need a coffee, Fee?” he asked kindly. “A water?”

  “No, thank you.” I leaned closer. “Is it almost over?”

  He squeezed my hand, his voice low enough only I could hear him. “Yes.”

  Always courteous, he turned his attention to Jonas. “Anything for you? Or your client?”

  Jonas shook his head, his concentration on the door. “No,” he said shortly.

  Halton busied himself with the papers in front of him. I watched his long fingers sort, pile, and organize them into neat batches, then he sat back, checking his watch.

  “Should we check on your client?”

  Before Jonas could reply, Scott walked in. He flung himself into the chair, leaning back and smirking. “Sorry.”

  Halton studied him intently. “Everything all right, Mr. Hutchings?”

  Scott crossed his arms over his chest. "Right as rain.”

  For a moment, Halton tapped his pen on the file in front of him. “Fine. Let’s continue.”

  I watched Scott, surprised by his sudden change in behavior. He was more relaxed, although his leg swung impatiently. The rest of his jerky movements had ceased.

  “As I was saying, we are going to request a full audited set of all personal assets and company books and—”

  “Fiona.” Scott’s voice was loud, interrupting Halton.

&nb
sp; I looked across the table, meeting his eyes. The odd, angry, out-of-control gaze he focused on me caused a shiver to run down my spine. He’d had the same look in his eyes on Friday night when he had grabbed me.

  “I’ll give you a million. Agree, and we’ll draft the papers and be done. Don’t make me fight this out in court with you. I guarantee you’ll lose and walk away with nothing.” He glanced at Halton, loathing rolling off him. “Is that a better offer or still too second-rate hookerish, Mr. Smithers?”

  Halton stood, grasping my elbow and tugging me from my chair.

  “It is inappropriate is what it is, Mr. Hutchings. This meeting is over. Come with me, Fee.”

  Scott braced his hands on the table, spit flying as he spoke loudly. “My wife’s name is Fiona. I would prefer it if you didn’t manhandle her in front of me.”

  Halton met Scott’s baleful glare. “She prefers Fee, and she’s not your wife.”

  Scott’s voice dripped with ice. “Fucking him for free legal counsel, Fiona? I hope you like sloppy seconds, Hal.”

  “Shut your mouth,” Halton snarled. “Show Fiona some respect. She damn well deserves it.”

  “You wanna come and make me? God knows I would like to go a round or two with you. Mess up that pretty fucking smug face of yours.”

  Halton drew me back. “Rein in your client, Jonas.”

  He tugged me to the door as Scott stood so fast, his chair toppled over. I cringed at the loud noise and the string of expletives and threats Scott spewed toward Halton. Jonas grabbed Scott by the shoulders, talking rapidly and stopping him from moving. Rene hurried in from the front office. Halton opened the door to his office and pushed me through, turning back to the room.

  “Rene, we’re done.” He jerked his chin toward Scott. “I’m going to cut you a break, Jonas. I’m going to pretend your client didn’t say what he did or threaten me. Bring him to heel, or next time you won’t be so lucky. I’ll see you in court.”

  He shut the door firmly, turned to me, and dragged me into his arms.

  Halton

  Fee shook so hard, I wasn’t sure how she was standing. Scott’s behavior had been alarming and atrocious. When he had addressed her with his bullshit offer, I couldn’t believe it. Neither could his attorney, from the shocked look on his face—we both knew his wealth exceeded that figure plus the fact that he was out of order. Scott’s sudden fury had set off alarm bells in my head. Something was going on. He was erratic, angry, and clearly not thinking rationally. My one goal had been to get Fiona away from him.

  I listened as Rene escorted them from the office and returned, entering my office.

  “Are you both all right?”

  I guided Fee to a chair, gently pushing her down. I wrapped my hands around hers, shocked at how cold her fingers felt. I rubbed them briskly.

  “Scotch,” I said to Rene.

  He handed me a glass, and I pressed it to Fee’s lips. “Sip.”

  She drank and swallowed, coughing as the liquor burned its way down her throat.

  “One more.”

  She sipped, then turned her head, indicating she didn’t want any more.

  I tossed back the remainder of the glass, welcoming the sharp taste of the amber liquid.

  “I heard everything,” Rene said.

  “He is out of control,” I muttered.

  “His eyes,” Fee whispered. “Something is wrong with his eyes.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. I had noticed there was something off with them, but I hadn’t picked up what it was yet.

  “They were black—cold. His pupils…” Her voice drifted off.

  I stood. “Fuck. He was high. Rene, check the bathroom.”

  Fee frowned. “Scott doesn’t do drugs.”

  I ran a hand through my hair. “I think you’re wrong, Fee.”

  Rene returned. “There’s some white residue on the sink.”

  “Lock it. I want that residue tested.” I started to pace, furious. “That asshole brought coke into my place of business?” I snarled. “He got high during a consultation about his divorce? With witnesses?”

  Fee looked shocked. “He always hated drugs. He rarely even drank. I don’t understand.”

  I laid my hand on her shoulder. “I think, Fee, love, there is a lot here we don’t understand. But I’m going to find out.”

  Rene stared at me, shock registering on his face. I frowned at him, unsure why he was looking at me that way. I ignored him, crossed to my desk, and picked up the phone, dialing the number I swore I wouldn’t use again.

  “Reid Matthews.”

  “Reid, it’s Hal.”

  “You have Wyatt,” he reminded me dryly.

  “I need you. I need your skills. Name your price.”

  He sighed. “You clear it with Bentley first. I’m not jeopardizing my future, Hal.”

  “You don’t have to. I want you to work with Wyatt—make sure he’s looking in the right places. Direct him. I need this.” I glanced at Fee, meeting her worried eyes. I swung my chair around to avoid Rene’s piercing stare. I dropped my voice. “It’s personal, Reid. It’s—” I swallowed “—it’s important.”

  “Tell me.”

  Rene left and Fee sat in the library. After a long phone call with Bentley and another with Aiden, I waited for the technician Aiden promised to send over. Tom arrived, took pictures, samples, and documented not only the bathroom but the chair Scott had sat in and the area around him.

  “Residual dust,” he explained. “In case.”

  After he left, I closed the office and drove Fee home. She didn’t object this time. Nor did she say a word when I walked her to her door and waited until she walked in. I followed, giving the place a quick inspection. It was small, but well appointed, clean, and above all, safe.

  I turned to Fee. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  I laughed and shook my head. “I don’t know much about women, but I do know the word fine means anything but.”

  She passed a hand over her head, the silver glinting in the light. “I’m a little shaken. If what you suspect is right…what does that mean?”

  I shrugged. “It depends on their next move. If he has a drug habit, it might explain his sloppy handling of everything. It might work in our favor since his attorney won’t want it known what is happening. Or Scott, being Scott, might go off the rails and make his life hell. Either way, I’ll handle it. I’m going to go ahead and try to get the document you signed struck down, then we’ll decide our next step.” I paused. “Or if you want, I can call Jonas and tell him you’ll take the one million, plus Scott pays my bill, and it’s done.”

  I saw her indecision. “Hey,” I murmured. “If this is too much, say it and I’ll make it happen.”

  “What would you do?”

  I shook my head. “I can’t, Fee. I can’t tell you what to do. I’m not you.”

  She frowned, rubbing her arms.

  “Think about it,” I encouraged. “Do you want me to stay?”

  Her gaze lingered on the window and the gathering storm clouds. “No, I need to be alone. To think.”

  It made sense, yet I was loath to leave her. She seemed jittery—more than I would have expected, even after the tumultuous afternoon.

  “Are you staying in tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’ll eat?”

  The glass rattled in the windows as the wind picked up. Fee grimaced, her fingers twisting with nerves. “I’ll try.”

  “Fee, what is it?” I stepped closer. “What is making you so anxious? It’s more than what happened earlier.”

  “I hate storms,” she confessed, her eyes flickering toward the windows again. “I know it sounds silly, but I’m terrified of them.”

  I laid my hand on her arm. “It’s not silly. Everyone has fears.”

  “Scott used to laugh at me.”

  “As we have established, Scott is an asshole.”

  She giggled, her eyes wide as if shocked a
t her reaction.

  “He wasn’t always an asshole.”

  “Neither was I. We change.”

  This time, she touched me, cupping my cheek. “No, Halton, you’re not an asshole. Blunt, direct, and arrogant, but not an asshole.”

  I covered her hand with mine. “I don’t like storms either.” I drew in a deep breath, sharing something personal with her. “When I was a kid, my mother forgot about me one day. She took me to the park and just…forgot. She went home and left me, and a storm hit. I was all alone in the park, scared shitless.”

  “Oh, Halton.”

  “A neighbor was driving by and saw me huddled under a tree. He picked me up and took me home. She answered the door, shocked to see me. She thought I was in my room, playing.” I shrugged. “It was one of many times. But from then on, I hated storms too.”

  Our gazes locked. Understanding shone in her green eyes. It was strangely comforting.

  “Do you want me to stay for a while, Fee? Ride out the storm together?”

  “I don’t want to be a bother.”

  I huffed and shrugged off my jacket. “You know what? I’m starving. I’ll order food, and we can eat. I’ll leave once the worst is over. We’ll both feel better. Okay?” I met her gaze, imploring her silently to agree. To accept this small gesture from me.

  “Okay,” she agreed. “I would like the company.”

  “Great.”

  Fee surprised me and ate the dinner I ordered. She had a bottle of wine in the fridge, and I poured us each a large glass, encouraging her to drink while we waited for the Chinese food to arrive. It helped her relax, and she actually laughed at some of the silly stories I told her of odd cases I had handled over the years. I tried to divert her attention from the storm raging outside, even going so far as to play cards with her.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I had played cards. I discovered a competitive streak in Fee. She made me laugh when she would change the rules to suit herself, and more than once, I caught her peeking at cards in order to win. I was certain Go Fish had never been played as aggressively as it was between us.