Counsel (Counsel #1) (20 page)

"Who's going…Mom and Dad, you and Matt?"

"No; Jodi, Jon, Matt, me and you. Do you want to invite anyone? You know, it's been some time since you’ve dated," she teases.

"No one. It’ll be good to catch up with you four."

"Are you
sure
you're not interested in anyone, brother? " she insists.

"No one I can ask. Now drop it, please."

"Where would you like to go? It's your celebration, after all."

"Why don't you and Jodi decide? The only stipulation I have is that it’s low-key."

"I'll book a table at Deuxave for seven-thirty. Will you meet us there?"

"Sure. Shouldn’t we invite Mom and Dad?"

"I already asked. Mom said, ‘you young people should go out’."

"Okay. Do you want me to tell Jodi?"

" No. I will."

"You two are getting along well."

"She's great."

"She is, and I'm pleased you think so. See you tonight, Sis."

.

.

We’re gathered in front of the restaurant as a trio approaches. I'm about to step aside to allow them to enter when I recognize Samuel. Angelique and her female friend from court make up their group. There’s a moment of awkward silence before Samuel speaks.

"Counselor, nice to see you again. I'm Samuel Beauvais." He offers his hand.

I accept it. "Call me Adam, please."

A feeling of sweet agony blooms in my chest as I take in the sight of Angelique. Her smile, so evident before she saw me, has vanished, but she's still so goddamned beautiful. She looks at me with those wide eyes, which always seem to unnerve me. I notice her full, bottom lip tremble. She's nervous, and my chest hurts at the knowledge that I’m responsible. Time stops, and I don't quite know what to do. The need to touch her is overwhelming, so I extend my hand.

"Ms. Bain, I hope you're well?" I feel foolish, certain that she'll ignore my overture. She glances at Samuel nervously and then her friend. After what seems like an eternity, she places her hand in mine. The feeling that courses through my entire body from that small point of contact nearly buckles my knees.

"I'm well, thank you," she says in a near whisper. I'm still holding onto her hand like a love-struck adolescent when take-charge Jodi steps forward. How the hell she beat out steamroller Cait, I'll never know.

"We can't stand out here all night. Why don't you join us at the bar while we wait to be seated?" she suggests, addressing Samuel.

"Angelique?" he asks. She glances up at me nervously, then down at our clasped hands. I reluctantly let go.

"I…I'm not sure," she says.

"Oh just one drink, Ms. Bain." The steamroller finally finds her voice.

Angelique shrugs shyly.

"Good," Jodi announces decisively and tugging on Jon's arm, leads the way inside.

I’m momentarily transfixed, unable to believe my good luck at having her actually agree to be anywhere near me. Even Matt, for once, appears to be at a loss for words. Frankly, I don't care about anyone else’s response; all that matters is that I have the opportunity to finally engage in real conversation with Angelique.

I'm delighted to note, as we enter the restaurant, that Samuel isn’t any more attentive toward Angelique than her friend. I don't know if I could stand watching him fawn over her the way he did at lunch.

"Whose name’s our reservation in?" I ask Cait.

"Bannen. I didn't think you'd want to advertise your presence."

"Thanks." I give her a one-armed hug before leaving to register our arrival and request that our now large group be seated for pre-dinner drinks. Samuel secures their reservation before we're shown to the bar. Much to my disappointment and thanks to Cait’s pushiness, I miss out on a seat beside Angelique. Cait smiles smugly, and I narrow my eyes in response as I take the seat beside her. Matt be damned, I'm not sitting any further away.

I’d intended to order a bottle of champagne, but not wanting to appear insensitive by celebrating in Angelique’s presence, I ask what everyone would like to drink. Noting everyone’s request, I turn to Angelique, who’s yet to speak.

"What would you like, Ms. Bain?"

"Umm… a soda with a twist of lime, please?" Her face heats when our eyes meet. "Of course," I say, reluctantly breaking our gaze to place our orders.

I wait until everyone has a drink before speaking. "Let me introduce everyone properly, this is Jon Holmes, my brother-in-law Matt Bannen, Jodi Maddox, a colleague of mine as you know, and finally, my sister Cait. I'm Adam Thorne." I extend my hand to Angelique’s female friend."

"I'm Mandi Benson. Angel and I have been friends since kids." She smiles at me before greeting everyone else

"So, do you live in Boston as well, Mandi?" Jodi asks.

"I'm from New York, I've just been visiting Angel to …" she breaks off, glancing at Angelique apologetically.

"It's okay, Mandi." She leans across Samuel to touch her hand.

"Mandi and Samuel are in Boston to support me through the trial, they're flying home in the morning," she explains.

"So, you're from New York?" I ask Samuel, unable to deny the thrill I feel at learning of his imminent departure.

"No. I'm originally from Florida, that's where Angelique and I met, but I live in Connecticut now with my wife Nic and our boy Flynn." I smile. He gives me a knowing look in return, and I wonder whether he’d added the last bit specifically for my benefit.

"How old is your son?" Cait asks eagerly, and I leave her to bombard Samuel with questions. Everyone seems to be getting along well. Jon’s joined Jodi’s conversation with Mandi, and Matt’s been drawn into the discussion Cait and Samuel are having on the habits of little boys

Angelique, like me, is watching and listening. I take a deep breath. Serendipity’s played a hand in this evening's meeting, and I won’t let it be wasted.

"Ms. Bain? Could I have a private word, please?" I ask, standing up.

Her eyes cloud with indecision as she nervously bites her lip. I shove my hands deep into my pockets to stop myself from the overwhelming urge to release it from her teeth.

"We'll just be over there," I add persuasively. "There are things I need to say that I'd prefer no-one else hears." She glances around anxiously, but everyone’s engrossed in conversation. She nods finally, and I move to cup her elbow to help her down from the stool. I guide her to a spot at end of the bar where she takes a seat and stares out at the view, avoiding my gaze.

"I live close to here," I say, trying to lighten the growing tension.

"You're from Southie?" She turns in surprise.

"You've learned a lot about Boston," I smile at her use of the local term. "I was born and raised there."

"I live close by too," she says, and I bite my tongue before I can tell her I know.

"Well, I'm glad you chose the area I call home to settle in." She smiles tentatively. The small concession gives me the courage to speak.

"I owe you an apology, Ms. Bain. My behavior when we first met was appalling…well, perhaps not only when we first met. I apologize for our subsequent meetings as well, and I'm sorry I was so hard on you on the stand, but I had a job to do. I just wish …" I stop; not really knowing what to say about how deeply I regret what happened to her. She responds before I can continue.

"I accept your apology, Mr. Thorne. I was angry and hurt and a lot of other things, but I understand you were just doing your job. You and Ms. Maddox gave me a choice; I just couldn't accept the one you wanted me to make.

"I really resented you; well, I still do to a degree, but not for doing your job. Samuel spoke to me at length about that… and I admit to still harboring some grievance… probably unjustly, but I've come to understand your point of view more," she says.

My heart pounds like a sledgehammer against my chest, and I wonder, as I look into her upturned face, whether she can hear it. I take a deep breath, hoping she sees my sincerity. "Thank you. I'm grateful for your graciousness, undeserved as it may be. I, in turn, have come to better understand your point of view. I'd call that a good start, wouldn't you?"

Her tiny, hesitant smile gives me hope.

"Won’t you please call me Adam?"

The moments after our exchange remain awkward, but I feel a sense of relief, coupled with exhilaration at being here with her. Angelique’s obviously still wary, but I understand her mistrust. For now, I'm simply grateful that she's willing to engage me in conversation. She lowers her eyes and takes a deep breath.

"I owe you an apology, too," she says, raising those incredible eyes to look at me.

"Please just let me say this," she stops my protest. "I should have said it when we met after the accident. I apologize for damaging your car and for not providing my proper details."

I smile ruefully. "I have to be honest and admit that I did act like the ass you accused me of being. It's no excuse, but it wasn’t just the accident. I'd had a difficult day, and I wrongly directed my frustration at you. I also admit to being incensed on discovering that you gave me a false name; but on the bright side, Cait and Jodi found it hilarious. And even if I didn't think it funny at the time, I have to admit, in hindsight, that it was deserved." I smile apologetically.

"Well, at least you managed to get my insurers to pay for the damage," she returns, with another tentative smile.

I cringe, thinking of her not working. "I hope my actions haven’t cost you too much?"

"No, it's fine, and it’s right that I pay. As I said, I'm sorry I drove off."

"Apology accepted," I say quickly, hoping to make her feel more comfortable, but she goes back to staring out of the darkened window. I can't believe how nervous I am. I’ve faced down hardened criminals without a hint of trepidation, but this delicate woman has my heart pounding at the thought of her possible rejection.

"Ms. Bain…" I clear my throat. "Do you mind if I'm frank?"

"When haven't you been?" she asks with just a hint of accusation.

"I've apologized for that," I remind her quietly.

"You did, and I’ve accepted your apology. I'm sorry." She blushes beautifully.

"I do believe you qualified it by saying you still resent me to a
degree
." I try to take the sting out of our conversation.

"Go ahead and say what you want, Adam, and please call me Angelique."

"Angelique…" I savor the way it rolls off my tongue. "I know you resent me and probably don't want to have anything to do with me, but I'd like to get to know you."

She blanches, her face turning bone-white. "Are you
soliciting
me? You've made it patently clear what you think of
me
, but weren't
you
the one damning others for doing what you’ve just suggested? You’re such a hypocrite!"

"That's
not
what I meant," I hiss quietly and instinctively reach for her hand. She pulls back, eyes glistening with moisture, and I mentally kick myself for my past callousness.

"Angelique, please..." I appeal, too afraid to continue in case she walks away.

"What
did
you mean?" she finally asks.

"I would never ask that of you; I'd
never
demean you in that way," I say earnestly. "I…I'd like to be your friend."

"Why?" Her question stops me short. I can't just blurt out how I feel. "Would it satisfy you, for now, if I just said that I understand your situation more than you think?" Her hesitation in responding worries me.

"And I really
would
like to be your friend?" I add persuasively.

"Friend?" she questions skeptically.

"Yes, Angelique, friend. Like I’ve said, it's a good start."

Her eyes swirl with so much emotion, I’m unable to decipher what she's thinking, what she's looking for, as she stares back at me. Blood rushes through my veins like a torrent; I swear I hear it pounding in my ears as I anxiously wait.

"Adam?" Matt’s voice startles me. I curse him inwardly for his bad timing.

"What?" I ask brusquely.

"Our tables are ready," he replies, and Angelique moves instantly to retrieve her small bag from the tabletop.

"We'll be there in a minute," I dismiss him, but he obtusely remains.

I assist Angelique down from her stool. The surge of heat I feel touching her wrist is astounding. Her eyes widen for an infinitesimal moment, and I wonder whether she felt it too, but she rejoins our group without any acknowledgment that she had.

Samuel comes over to say goodbye, and I extend my hand. "It was good meeting you, Samuel. Thank you for talking to Angelique."

"You're welcome," he answers, marginally tightening his grip on my hand. "I hope you're not trying to use her because if you are…"

"I'm not wanting to or going to use her…ever," I reply, looking him straight in the eye. He nods, seemingly satisfied.

"Have a safe trip home," I tell him, and he finally smiles as we drop our hands. I wish Mandi a pleasant trip then before turning back to Angelique, who’s in the process of saying goodbye Jodi.

"Will you think about what I said?" I ask, ignoring Jodi’s blatant interest.

"I will," Angelique replies after an agonizing moment of hesitation.

One step at a time, I remind myself as I watch her walk away.

.

.

The next morning at work is hectic. Jodi, Tess and I meet to discuss and finalize strategy for the Cordi henchmen's trials. Jodi and I met with their attorneys some days before and refused to plea-bargain, conceding only to document their cooperation. I wasn’t interested in negotiating with people who’ve been responsible for the misery and possible deaths of innocents. Given the incriminating documents and the quantity of drugs seized from their homes, their trials should, in my view, be pretty cut and dried. By lunchtime, Tess is fully briefed and ready to take over, freeing Jodi to concentrate on the Cordi brothers’ trials.

Silvio and Enzo’s attorneys have agreed to a co-defendant trial, and the courts have ruled a joinder to be fair, given the overlap in charges and evidence to be heard. A trial date’s been set for the week after that of Moretti, Barnes, and McGill, and we’re quietly confident that we have enough evidence and witness testimonies to secure a conviction in all of their cases.

Joseph's trial is scheduled to start eight weeks after that of his brothers’. We, of course, plan on presenting essentially the same evidence in support of the drug charges, and our witness list currently includes Moretti, Barnes, and McGill. On the prostitution-related charges, we plan on calling Carmen Bonacci, Samantha Perkins, and possibly two other women from his list of sex workers. Jon, meanwhile, believes that interstate authorities are closing in on O'Flaherty. I have no doubt that, once caught, he'll cooperate.

Then there's the ongoing Riviera investigation that Jon's working hard to bring to a close. Perez is still at large, with two young women, we’ve been told. We strongly suspect one to be Maria. As evidence of his involvement in the guard’s murder mounts, Texas authorities are becoming increasingly desperate to find him. The ramifications for Joseph, should Perez face a murder charge, is great because he will almost certainly be extradited to Texas and tried for murder.

We return to our own offices, each with a list and a clear understanding of what we need to do. I’m pleased to see Tess back to her professional self and feel confident that, between the three of us, we'll effectively manage the workload. It's ten forty-five a.m., the first time since leaving home just after six that I've had a chance for a break. It's also the first time I've consciously allowed myself to think about last night's dinner.

Our two parties were seated at tables so far apart that I lost sight of Angelique. That fact left me feeling oddly deflated, but I valiantly tried to get into the spirit of my companions’ upbeat mood. I glanced around the restaurant as we left, but Angelique and her friends had already departed. My feeling of disappointment remained until I fell into another dream-laden sleep. I woke wondering just how and when I could arrange to see her again, then became even more anxious at the realization that she's yet to decide whether or not she wants to be friends.

I comforted myself with the thought that there’s at least something I could do right away. With that thought in mind, I pick up my phone.

"Sweetheart, how nice to hear from you," Mom greets me on the first ring. "Did you enjoy dinner?"

"We had a great time. I missed you and Dad, though."

"Thanks, Adam, but you needed to be surrounded by your friends. I worry that you're becoming a hermit."

"I'm just not interested in socializing too much right now, Mom. I still have several trials to get through."

"Just don't become too much of a workaholic, Adam."

"I won't, I promise."

"Good, and I hope you're not feeling too disappointed about the verdict. Your dad and I both agree that, short of a conviction, it’s probably the best outcome."

"I'm disappointed, of course, but I'm not obsessing over it."

"I'm glad to hear that. Cait called this morning, and we're coming over to cook on Saturday. Now, it's not that I don't love hearing from my son, but I know you, Adam. Something's up; what is it?"

I chuckle at how well she knows me. "I have something I'd like to discuss with you; can I buy you lunch?"

"Is everything all right?" she asks, her light tone turning to instant concern.

"Everything’s fine, Mom. I want to run an idea past you. I can come over to your part of town; how about twelve-thirty?"

"It's a lovely day, why don’t we get some sandwiches and sit in the park?"

"Sounds good, I'll bring the food. I’ll see you soon," I say before hanging up.

"Adam," Bec calls out from my doorway. "Thomas Martin’s on the phone. He wants to make an appointment."

I've been expecting him to contact me, but I anticipated a phone call, not a request for a meeting. "I'm going to be out until around two. What's the rest of my day looking like?"

"Tess confirmed three witness depositions; they're scheduled at forty minute intervals, starting at two-thirty."

"What about tomorrow?"

"You're available until ten."

"Tell Mr. Martin I can see him at eight-thirty."

"If he agrees, I'll just add it your diary; check there, will you?"

"Will do; thanks, Bec." I don’t waste any time wondering about what Tom wants. I already have a pretty good idea.

.

.

"Ready for your water?" I ask, lifting the bottle.

"Thanks," Mom smiles as I remove the cap and hand it to her. She’s still so pretty with her shiny, auburn hair, unlined skin, and hazel eyes, which are now scrutinizing me carefully.

"What did you want to discuss?"

"I'm thinking about opening a recreation center for underprivileged kids, and I want to include a ballet studio."

"Underprivileged children always need facilities, but why a ballet studio?"

"I'd like to help a new friend of mine, well someone I hope to befriend. She taught ballet, but recently lost her job."

A small frown mars Mom’s face. "What friend? Tell me what's really going on, Adam."

I fill her in on what’s publicly known about Angelique, and as much as I know Mom would be fascinated by the fact that she’d debuted in Europe and that she’d be appalled by her tragic accident, I don't relate those details. Angelique, for whatever reason, has chosen not to publicly reveal that information, not even to excuse her decision to work for Joseph. I won’t rob her of any more of her privacy.

"This is the girl from the trial, the one who was Justin’s escort?" Mom perceptively asks. I nod.

"Why
her
, Adam? I’ve gathered that she’s been taken advantage of, but you've met many people in the course of doing your job who’ve needed help. Why
this
young woman?"

It would be useless trying to lie to Mom, she knows me too well; besides, I want her to know, so I relate my first encounter with Angelique. She, at least, doesn’t laugh out loud; her eyes, however, tell me she’s highly amused.

"When I saw her through that two-way mirror, I had such a visceral response. I felt disgust at her occupation and even greater revulsion for the effect she had on me, but I’ve been unable to stop my growing feelings.

"I warred with myself until I talked to you about Eleanor. Accepting that she'd been a victim made me see Angelique in a new light. It was during my cross-examination first of her and then Justin that I finally accepted that my attraction is more than physical, but she dislikes me and doesn't trust me because I've been such a bastard to her. I can't walk away, though, Mom, and it kills me to think that she’s lost her teaching job because of this trial. The thought of her having to go back to selling herself drives me insane."

I realize I'm rambling, so I finally clamp my mouth shut.

"You love her," Mom calmly announces.

"No…I…" Rattled, I stare off into the distance. Mom remains silent, patiently waiting for me to process my thoughts. "I think I'm falling in love with her," I eventually admit.

"Oh darling, I think you may be way past falling."

"Do you know why she got into prostitution?" she asks when I don’t respond.

"Not really. She didn't know what she was getting into when she was first hired, then later, when told what was expected of her, she refused and was fired. The need for money, reportedly, made her return, but her reasons don't matter right now, all I want to do is help her. I want to ensure that whatever situation made her desperate enough to resort to prostitution doesn't happen again."

"Adam, have you
really
considered what getting involved with an ex-prostitute would mean?"

"I have, Mom, but I can't walk away from her, not when there's even the remotest possibility of her one day returning my feelings. I know this isn’t the kind of relationship you envisaged for me…"

"All we’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy," she interrupts me. "You can't help who you fall in love with, Adam. I just want you to be prepared for what could happen if you pursue this relationship. It would be so much easier for her to slip into obscurity if she kept out of the public eye; your high-profile job and near celebrity status would make that impossible. And life for you would be easier if you were with a woman without such a colorful past."