LOVING THE HEAD MAN (15 page)

       Robert frowned. 
“Public Defender?
  You said you wouldn’t be caught dead as a criminal defense attorney.”

       “I know, but the PD’s office is the only game in town around here.  And
there’s never any openings
in the prosecutor’s office.”

       Robert exhaled.  She didn’t realize it, but she had him under her little thumb, and he still couldn’t explain why.  He pulled out a pad and pen.  “Had your mother been arrested for drug dealing in the past?”

      
“No, sir.
  Never!  She’s never even been in jail before.”

       “What’s her name?”

      
“Whose name?”

      
“Your mother.”

      
“My mother, sir?”

       “Yes, Brianna.  What is your mother’s name?”

       “Francine Hudson.”

      
“And her PD?”

       “Sir, I know you’re very busy and have a lot going on right now–”

       “What is her PD’s name?”  His tone was firm, definitive.

       “Jerry Kurtz.  But really, sir, I’ll take care of it.”

       “The only thing you’re going to take care of is finding which flight you can get your ass on and get back to Chicago.  Got it?”  Then he exhaled.  He really hated speaking to her like that, but her staying in Mississippi was not an option.  “I’ll take care of your mother’s situation,” he added.

       “I can’t ask you to do that!”

       “You aren’t asking me.  I’m taking care of it.  Just get back here.”  He knew he sounded almost desperate to see her again, which wasn’t quite true, but he nevertheless didn’t bother to look at Monty.    

       “Sir,” Bree said, “I appreciate everything you’re trying to do, but I don’t see how I can just leave here now.”

       “Brianna?”

      
Yet another pause.
  “Yes?”

       “Would you agree that when it comes to criminal cases I know what I’m doing?”

       “Yes.  Of course you do!”

       “Then trust me to take care of your mother’s situation, and get back here. 
All right?”

       It took another pause, but she eventually relented. 

       When Robert hung up the phone, he looked at Monty, certain he would be staring at him.  When Monty wouldn’t say anything, but continued to stare, Robert gestured with his hands in a shrugging motion.

       “What?” he asked.

       “She’s young, Bobby,” Monty said.

       Robert stared at him.  Was it that obvious that he had a soft spot in his heart for Bree?  He hadn’t given any indication in that direction, at least Robert didn’t think he had.  “I know that,” he said.

       “She’s not worldly and sophisticated.”

       “I know that, too.”

       “She won’t dismiss your gesture.  She’ll take it to heart.”

       “So what do you suggest I do?  Let her stay in Mississippi?  Forget about helping her mother?  I thought you were fond of Brianna.”

       “I am fond of her.  And of course you should help.  But—”

       Robert frowned. 
“But what, man?
  Spit it out.”

       Monty sat almost with a solemn stupor before responding.  “You have a reputation,” he finally said.

       Robert smiled. 
“A reputation?
  Oh, really now?  And what exactly is this reputation of mine?”

      
“Of not being careful with young girls’ hearts.”

       Robert frowned.  What was he talking about?  He didn’t even fool with young girls.  If he bothered to go down that road with Bree, and that would be a big if, she would damn near be the first.  And she wasn’t exactly a kid herself.

       “I don’t bother with young girls,” he said.

       “You know what I mean. 
Young women.
  Just don’t lead her on, that’s all I have to say.  You have that black book of yours too full already.  Don’t add Bree to your list.  A sweet kid like her deserves better than that.”

       Robert looked away from his assistant, the truth of what he said embarrassing him.  Then he pulled out his chirping smart phone.

       “Mind your own business,” he said.  And then added: “Get the DA who handles Nomad, Mississippi on the phone.”

       “Nodash,” Monty corrected.

       “Whatever,” Robert replied, and answered his cell phone call. 

       Monty smiled, he knew Robert well enough to know that he’d do right by Bree in the end.

EIGHT

She arrived back in Chicago the next day.  She kept expecting Robert to send for her, or at least phone her all that day, but the call never came.  It was as if he demanded her return, leading her to think that there was some serious interest again, but then as soon as she returned, he forgot about her.  He did help her
mother,
however, miraculously getting the charges dropped for what the DA said was a lack of evidence, which even Bree knew was nonsense.  There was plenty of evidence.  But Robert had personally intervened and the DA dropped the charges. 
And for that alone, Bree would be forever grateful to him.
     

       But by the second day of her return, the day before the final exam scores were to be posted, she knew she had to do something.  In a matter of a week her father’s home would be confiscated and her family would be out on the streets.  She had tried to secure some kind of loan while she was in Mississippi, based on the kind of earnings her law degree could eventually net for her, but no bank, no loan company, no nothing, would bite.  Especially not in the short turn around she would need. 

       As she entered the revolving doors of Colgate’s downtown office building, she thought about going directly to Robert, to tell him the true state of affairs regarding her family home and ask him to lend, not give, but lend her the forty-four thousand they needed.  But she nixed that idea as soon as entered the lobby and saw the mass of flesh coming and going and yapping on cell phones.  This was the big leagues she was playing in now.  And going to the boss over and over for money, wasn’t going to cut it.

       He might understand it.  He knew how poor her family was and how tough times had to be for them.  Or he might decide she was just another gold digging sister seeking to use him to enrich herself.  Which would repulse him, she knew it would.  She couldn’t take that chance.

       And she didn’t have to take the chance by the time she arrived on the twenty-first floor and found the place abuzz with news that she and the other finalists weren’t yet privy to, but that all of them, as they sat around in the board room and waited for Alan to come and give them instruction, knew was big.  So big that Alan’s secretary came into the board room, notified them that Alan was called to the tower (code speak for Robert’s office on the top floor) and would be delayed for some time, perhaps all day. 

       Prudence, still reeling from having the second highest score total so far (although she was only three points behind Bree), looked at her cohorts and snorted.  “All day?” she said in that condescending tone Bree had grown to hate.  “What’s up with that?”

       But nobody was telling them a thing.  All they were told to do was to stay busy, helping any associate attorney who needed help.  Of course they all always did.  Bree, however, needed to get to Robert, to see if she could at least feel him out about possibly helping her.  She therefore hurried to Bret Drysdale’s office.  He was one of those associates who always had documents Robert’s office needed to scrutinize.  And within moments of Bree walking into his secretary’s office and asking if they needed any assistance, she was handed a stack of reports they needed to get to the tower ASAP.  Bree smiled, her instincts were dead on, and hurried for the top floor.

       The elevator door binged open to a mad house.  Robert’s office, which comprised half of the entire floor, had so many of the firm’s top attorneys coming and going, answering phones and quizzing each other, that Bree stepped off of the elevator feeling as if she had just stepped into a parallel universe. 
What in the world,
she wondered. 

       As she walked toward Lois Peterson’s desk, she could see Robert in the middle of the madness, standing behind his desk, his face strained and exhausted already and it was only ten am.  She sat the documents from Bret Drysdale’s office on Lois’s desk, all the while not taking her eyes off of Robert, who was too busy listening to his slew of advisers to even notice that she stood at the end of the hall.

       “Hey girl,” Lois said to Bree.

       “What in the world is going on?” Bree asked.

       “You haven’t heard?  About the Vice President, I mean?”

       Bree looked at Lois. 
“The Vice President?
  I didn’t know Colgate had a VP.”

       “Not Colgate, silly,” Lois said with a grin.  “Jason Bradford. 
The former Vice President of the United States.”

       Bree was stunned.  “Jason Bradford?  What about him?  What’s happened to him?”

       “Our gorgeous ex-VP has been arrested for raping some woman, and I mean violently raping her.  The story broke on MSNBC last night.  I was glued to the TV, girl, and you knew nothing about it.”

       After Bree got home last night, she was glued to her bed.  “But what does Jason Bradford being arrested have to do with Colgate?”

       Lois smiled.  “Guess who his lead attorney is?”

       Bree stared at Lois as if she had just grown fangs.  “You’re lying!  Mr. Colgate?”