Our personal lives. How quickly she’d become too connected to him. Who was she kidding? There was no stopping the force of their mutual affection.
“We good now?” he asked.
About what? See, precisely why personal matters shouldn’t interplay with work. She debated her answer.
He continued, “Are we good about Lucy, Tara, every other doubt running through that gorgeous head of yours? If we’re going to ignore the elephant in the room and pretend there’s nothing between us other than a workplace duty, then let’s get to work, shall we?”
Gorgeous? Well, hell, what a flatterer. “Good? When were we bad?”
The corner of his lips began to tip up. “All right, got a pen ready? Had a few thoughts last night I’d like to run past Chris.”
Few thoughts. Code for marathon of notes.
She leaned forward to open her tote. Stuffing odds and ends of papers, notepads, and other office items back into the explosively jammed-packed bag, she wrenched free a mostly empty notepad and pen.
At his expectant expression, she scoffed. “We were in a hurry to leave, remember. All I care is that everything is in here. I’ll sort it later.” She wriggled back into her seat, grateful for his taciturn escape mechanism of focusing on the case, and posed her pen, ready to receive his dictation. “Go.”
He seemed to bite back a smile. “Money…”
“Again?” She noted the heading anyway.
“I told you. Money is the prime evil. So many of my cases, it’s all connected to the money.”
Roxie heard him well the first time he’d proclaimed such wisdom. And after Jimmy’s scheme of murdering Bolt for the sake of obtaining insurance money to cover his gambling woes, she could personally agree with the malice dollar signs could spawn.
Everyone tied to Josh’s murder already had money. Loads of it. No one was poor. They all had their wealth. Kylie, Dave, Jaydon, Ben, Paul, even Wayne to an extent—all celebrities of sports, music, films, or modeling. Josh’s will was already executed and no one was drastically better or worse off.
But money was again Grant’s primary concern. As she jotted down notes, really lines that seemed more like Grant’s reminders to himself for when he met with Chris later, the flight passed by in what felt like mere minutes.
Disembarking, Grant busied himself on the phone, confirming his scheduled appointment with Marcus. Roxie handled the chores of herding him through security and leading the way to long-term parking for his car. When she tossed their bags into the backseat, she went for the passenger side, but he shook his head, gesturing for her to drive as he was still on a call.
After she adjusted the seat and mirrors to compensate her shorter stature, she made quick work of transporting them to the Kaniz headquarters. Still with his phone to his ear, Grant exited the car in the parking garage. Roxie got out and helped Grant with the bags. He took everything, their carry-ons, laptops, and her tote, resembling a pack animal in a caravan. She took his quick nod and almost smile as a bidding of farewell and returned to the car.
Teasing her lip between her teeth, Roxie drove to her apartment complex. Nervous about this meeting Grant faced, worried about Sophia’s illness, anxious about combining her roles of mommy and PA in the unconventional setting of Grant’s office. Topping everything off, though, lurking beneath the immediately pressing concerns, was the confusion of how to handle her boss. Her friend. Her morning lover. Grant had crossed so many lines and blurred enough boundaries, it was impossible to see where and how he ended, and where and how she began.
Is there a no-fraternization clause?
Parking at the street, Roxie hustled up the stairs. Sophia was still in the bedroom, adamantly refusing to be in the same room as her or Lucy. Even more stubborn were her refusals to let Roxie drive her to her doctor. In the same car and breathing the same finite air as Lucy? Was she crazy? As soon as Roxie and Lucy left the building, Sophia planned to catch a taxi. At least she let Roxie give her a twenty for the fare.
So Roxie hugged and cuddled her daughter until she instigated the fuss-fest of strapping the independent and energetic child into her car seat. Pack-n-play bundled in its carrier, clothes, diapers, milk, food, toys, and a gazillion other necessities straining the seams of the diaper bag, and momma and girlie were ready for a day at the office.
Chapter Twenty-Two
As soon as Roxie departed the parking garage, Grant hauled all their things inside the building. Checking the time as he rode his way up to Kaniz’s offices, he inhaled deeply. Only five minutes to spare. Not bad.
On the twentieth floor, he shifted all the straps of the bags together and made his way to his office to dump the load before heading to Walter’s suite. Lia waved a faint hello as he passed, a questioning stare at his disheveled, tardy, and bag-cumbersome arrival. Chris did a double-take and rushed toward him.
“Cutting it close, man,” Chris said as he followed Grant.
“Yeah, well.” Shit happens. Shit? No, his morning was perfect, absolute nirvana with Roxie until Tara called and shattered the peace. He still struggled to believe it had actually, finally happened. Roxie. Stubborn, line-erecting, no mixing business with pleasure Roxie had surrendered. She made the move on him. “We were delayed.”
And if it had been up to him, they would have dismissed the entire day’s schedule.
“They’re already in there,” Chris warned.
“Tara is, too?”
Chris nodded stiffly. “She popped in there fifteen minutes ago.”
Great. Probably spending every second of her early attendance to bitch about him. Grant gritted his teeth. Walter could not listen to Tara. Ben pleaded ‘not guilty’, in essence telling Tara to take a hike. This was his case. His and Roxie’s, and he’d be damned if that manipulative witch tried anything behind his back. Sleeping with the DA, she wasn’t one to be trusted.
He unlocked his office and hurried to the leather couch. One by one, he extracted the bags from his arms. But once they tangled with each other, a growl slipped his lips and he dropped everything in a flood of luggage. The mess could wait to be cleaned up later before Roxie came with Lucy.
“Come on,” Chris urged at his door.
On a whim, Grant returned to the pile, found Roxie’s tote, and dug in it for the last notepad he thought she’d used—in case he wanted to jot something down. “Right behind you.”
Grant and Chris entered Walter’s suite. Tara sat in a chair to the side, busy on her phone. Walter tipped his head in acknowledgement at the men’s entrance, his desk phone at his ear. Chancing a glance at his ex-wife, Grant found Tara sighing, perhaps out of boredom, and he took hope in the possibility she hadn’t been whining to Walter the entire time.
“Gentlemen, take a seat,” Walter offered as soon as he had hung up.
Grant dismissed the courtesy with a wave, opting to stand behind a chair and grip the back instead. “Morning, Walter. You’re concerned about the Rohn case?”
“I had an interesting chat with prosecution.” Walter tilted his head to his phone before he reclined his bulky, aging body in his chair and steepled his fingers over his gut.
With Henry directly or his latest bed-warmer? “Last night at his campaign kick-off dinner, Henry hinted at some rumors he’d heard about the police considering re-opening their investigation.”
Grant smirked. “And I presume he assured you his department was not.”
“As they shouldn’t be,” Tara added with a scoff.
Was she ever on the right side? Grant failed to comprehend how Tara had gotten the case in his absence with such a blunt, shitty attitude. Even if he’d been on leave, Ben shouldn’t have taken Tara as a backup resort. There’s nepotism for you.
“Because the evidence points to Ben Rohn.” She stood and crossed her arms, glaring at Walter briefly before honing her evil eyes at Grant. “Overwhelmingly.”
Chris coughed. Or maybe he was hiding a scoff. “Overwhelmingly? Tara, I aided you with preliminary legwork of this
case while Grant was on leave. There is hardly any evidence”—he held his hand up to block her from retorting—“any physical evidence. The DA’s case is structured on suppositions and circumstantial evidence.”
Grant tapped Roxie’s notepad to his thigh, impatient to get out of the suite.
Walter could have saved himself the time of calling the DA to verify Wayne’s sloppy exaggerations about the case. He could have simply asked his niece, AKA the wannabe DA. “Regardless of the prosecution’s intentions and potential strategic ambitions, I’ve no official correspondence this case is suspended for the cause of further police or homicide investigative efforts. As the lead counsel to Rohn, I expect I would have received prompt notice.”
Walter raised his fingertips to his chin. “Word on the street throws light on the possibility Ben might not be guilty.”
Grant couldn’t help but laugh. Hysterical, harsh sounds of disbelief. “Word on the street?”
The chairman of one of the nation’s most prestigious law firms wouldn’t stoop to give a rat’s ass about ‘word on the street’. But he could be swayed by the deranged persuasion of his simpering niece. Grant faced her, shoving his fists in his pockets to tamp down the impulse to scream.
“Then, apparently, I’m doing my job. As his defense counsel, I’m supposed to show his innocence!”
Tara flicked her stare to the ceiling, pursed her lips, and avoided facing him.
“That is the purpose of a defense. To present how the defendant has not committed wrongdoing.” He jerked his attention to Walter. “Do I need to remind you, or her, of any other elementary basics of criminal law? If not, I’ve work to do.”
Walter shot forward in his seat, shaking his head. “No, no need to waste any more time here.” He glanced at Tara, and then Grant again. “I’ve quite a bit to accomplish today. Tara, honey, I know your re-appealed case is a challenge. Please ensure you have ample assistance for the resolution while Grant continues preparation for Rohn’s trial.” Casting his gaze to the few sheets of paper on his desk, Walter imperceptibly shrugged. “Caught my attention is all, Newland. Simply wanted to make sure we’re all on the same page. I need not remind you how imperative this case is to the future of the firm.”
Same page? Grant fought back a snort. Perhaps he should ask Tara if her page was even in their book.
“No, no need for reminder,” Grant said. He was well aware of how huge Ben’s case was for Kaniz, how crucial the victory would be for him to finally leave and start up his own practice. “If there is nothing else,” Grant said and turned for the door, “good day.”
Without a glance back to Walter or Tara, he left. He agreed on a meeting time with Chris as they walked through the hallways, and once he stepped into his office, all the angst, anxiety, and frustration of being in Tara’s presence evaporated.
Lucy crawled on the floor toward a squishy ball thing, cooing in some kind of giddy infantile speech. A mesh-walled rectangular box was propped up in front of the coffee table, a cluttered, stuffed-to-the-brim bag next to it. Roxie’s upturned ass greeted him, a pleasurable sight any time of the day.
“Sorry, I was going to tidy it,” he said as he went to her on the floor as she rifled with papers and odds and ends that had shot out of her tote bag. Frowning, he kneeled closer. He didn’t think he’d made that big of a mess when he’d searched for her notepad.
The red curtain of hair hid her face as she lowered to the carpet, reaching her arm under the space beneath the couch. “No problem.”
She straightened on her knees in front of him. Shaking her head, she pulled her lower lip between her teeth. “I just can’t find it.”
“What?” he asked, shuffling things into neater piles.
“My phone. I shoved it in my tote after I talked to Sophia on the plane. It’s not here. Anywhere.”
He pulled his phone from his hip and dialed. “I’m sure it will show up. You manage with Sophia all right?”
Roxie nodded and went to Lucy. “She refused to accept a ride from me, but she took a taxi to the doctor and is supposed to call me…on my AWOL phone.” She picked up Lucy, who cooed around the thumb she’d stuck in her mouth. Holding the baby to her chest, Grant struggled not to stare at the two of them, wondering if she knew how damn lucky she was to have Lucy in her life. Not only lucky, but blessed.
Straight to voicemail. He shook his head. “Maybe it’s in the car? Battery died?”
Roxie sighed as she put Lucy in the mesh jail-type contraption. “Not in the car. I searched it in the garage. It was definitely in my tote. I remember because I had to force everything in there to zip it up. Battery was probably dead. I didn’t charge it overnight like I usually…” A rosy hue colored her cheeks as she trailed off, her reminder that she hadn’t been in her own bed last night.
She busied herself with a bottle from Lucy’s bag and gave the milk to the baby. “I’m sorry. I’ll get another one. You can take it out of my paycheck.”
She was stressing about the cost of a replacement phone? Did she have no clue that Ben’s case equaled paydays in the seven digits? “Relax. It’s just a phone.”
“No, it’s everything. I’m waiting on calls from Richelle. If she ever manages to reply. And I’ve got all the contacts from the assistants I’ve had to beg for meetings, and assistants’ assistants. The calendar has all kinds of reminders. Jaydon’s voicemail is still on there. Soph’s supposed to call me back at that number to let me know when she can watch Lucy again.”
It the middle of her rant, she’d slumped to the couch and covered her face with her hands.
He took the seat next to her, rubbing her thigh. Damn short skirts. She was too tempting. “It’s still just a phone. All those things will still be on the number’s account. We can just get a replacement, transfer the account, and you’ll be good to go.”
She rested her head back to the cushions. “When? Marcus will be here. Then Chris for a few hours.”
“I can handle them. I’ve got all our notes, my questions to toss. You go ahead and get a phone. You’re a necessary person of contact for many people. The sooner you’re reachable, the better.”
Roxie sat up and stared straight ahead. “Okay. I’ll go get one now. Lucy’s due for a nap. Maybe she’ll doze off on the bus. No way in heck I’d find a parking spot if I used your car.”
Grant eyed Lucy sitting in her box, smiling lazily around her bottle. What a chubby-cheeked cherub. So damn adorable. Well…he could handle a sleeping baby. He’d just have to be quiet, right?
“Leave her here if she’s tired. She can nap in that thing, correct?”
“Yes, the pack-n-play is where she usually naps.” Her brows slanted south as she glanced at him. “You sure?”
“Why not? If she’s sleeping, there’s no way I can screw up.”
Her frown led him to believe his words could be rephrased. Do not mention ‘screw up’ in the same sentence as ‘Lucy’. “I’ll be quiet. Won’t leave the room, so she won’t be alone. Only Marcus and then Chris are coming in here. Isn’t there a store on Second? It can’t take you more than an hour to get down there, buy a phone, and come back.”
Slowly nodding, she seemed to warm to the idea. But the longer she didn’t agree to his plan, the faster his doubts ramped up. Why the fuck would she trust him with her baby? Sure, she’d let him hold her a couple times. But to leave Lucy in his care? Was he delusional? What did he know about infants?
“Forget it. Stupid idea. I just thought…” He rubbed at the back of his head, wishing he could offer her a lending hand.
“It’s a perfect idea.” Roxie stood, leaned lower to kiss his cheek, and grabbed her purse out of her tote. “I worried it would be weird, dumping her here, taking advantage of you.”
He shot to his feet, trying his damnedest not to grin. So she did trust him. “No, no. Not at all.”
Roxie went to the box and gave Lucy a kiss on her forehead. “Makes sense since she’ll be out like a light. And I will be in and out.”
“Honestly, she should be asleep in a few minutes, tops. Usually gets a good hour’s worth of rest in.”
He went after her at the door, pulling his wallet out. “Company charge. For the phone.”
“You sure?” she asked as he held a card up. “It’s my fault I lost it.”
God, he loved her staunch insistence on doing the right thing. How she still insisted on using public transport instead of utilizing the firm’s card for taxi fees or even his own car. Like he’d honestly expect her to personally replace the device.
“Accidents happen. It’s the firm’s phone, not mine or yours.” He held the card out further, glad she didn’t protest and took it.
“I’ll be back as soon as possible. I swear,” she said.
He held up a hand as a farewell and then put his finger to his lips as though to keep silent. “Go ahead. We’ll be fine,” he whispered.
As soon as the door shut after Roxie, he locked it and stepped quietly to Lucy’s—what did she call it? Pack and what?—‘box’ to check on her. Tiny eyelids had already covered those precious green eyes and her right thumb was nestled between her lips. Content and nearly asleep already. Marcus would be arriving soon, but Grant couldn’t resist the relaxing sensation of watching the child doze.
How was it comfortable to nap in that box thing?
What did babies dream about?
No nightmares for you, Lucy.
His attempts at silence were evident in every motion as he moved around the office, lowering the blinds, opening his laptop, shoving their carry-on bags and other belongings to the side of the room.
Just as he sat in his chair, Lucy’s whine sounded from the mesh box. Small fingers reached up until she gained purchase toward the top and pulled herself to standing. An adorable grouchy scowl scanned the room, whimpers and whines continuing as she most likely searched for her mother.
That was it? That was all she was napping? Grant shot to his feet and went to her.
Resisting Redemption Page 24