The Player (13 page)

Garrett longed to loosen his tie, but to do so would be, one, unprofessional, and two, it would give Blair the satisfaction of knowing she was getting to him. Not that she didn’t already know. The smirk on her face when she shot glances at him between questions was proof enough of that. But he felt like he was choking. He was choking all right—on embarrassment.

He kept reminding himself that Brian Norfolk wasn’t really his client. That he hadn’t been the one to prep Amanda Beasley for the deposition. But even though Lopez had done a shitty job—so much so that he wished he had the authority to fly back to San Diego and demand his resignation—there was no denying that it was a crap case. If Rowena Norfolk’s attorney had been content to just go through the motions, it would have gone smoother, but Blair Myers Hansen didn’t understand the concept of
going through the motions
. She was smart, articulate, and ruthless. It didn’t hurt that there wasn’t an attorney alive who could make Lopez’s client look like a saint. Under the circumstances, Garrett was semi-holding his own, but Blair was a barracuda.

Back when they were together, he’d loved to get her riled up. Her eyes always lit up with a righteous fire when she was in the middle of an argument. But their arguments had mostly been over politics and current events—topics they had enjoyed debating. Afterwards, they would laugh together and then take the same passion they’d harnessed for their disagreement to their bed. He hadn’t lied to her when he said she was in the top five of the best lays he’d ever had, but he hadn’t told her the truth either. No one else had even come close.

“Mr. Norfolk,” Blair said, her voice sounding like honey off the comb, but only a fool would fall for it. Garrett was sure her beauty had helped lure Norfolk into complacency. She wore a gray dress today that clung to her curves. Her hair was up again, and she had on a pair of three-inch black patent leather heels. She flipped through the papers in front of her before glancing up at him with those wide blue eyes. “These numbers just aren’t adding up.”

Brian Norfolk gave her a shit-eating grin. “Maybe numbers just aren’t your thing, sweetheart.”

The look she gave him would make most men tuck tail and run. But Brian Norfolk was an arrogant fool. Garrett couldn’t stand the man. He was a fifty-seven-year-old screenwriter who’d experienced only moderate success until four years ago, when one of his movies suddenly became a blockbuster. The money had gone to his head, and while he’d fooled around on his wife more than once over their twenty-year marriage, he’d decided it was finally time to upgrade. But he’d tried out quite a few women before settling on the woman who was currently living in his San Diego condo, waiting to get her hands on his money. Consequently, he was trying to bilk his wife in every conceivable way. Knowing Blair, she’d sink her teeth into this man like a dog with a bone, and while Garrett would love nothing more than to see her take the prick down a few rungs, his job was to decrease the carnage as much as possible. He’d reluctantly warned Norfolk not to take Blair lightly, but the man was clearly ignoring his advice.

The corners of her mouth tipped up slightly, but he knew that look. She was preparing to go in for the kill.

She pulled a stack of papers from a folder and spread them across the table in front of him. “Mr. Norfolk, these are your tax returns for the last four years. Yes?”

He leaned over and scanned the papers. “Yeah, that’s right.”

She slid them to the side and pulled another stack of papers from her folder. “These other papers list your assets, investments, and monthly expenses. These were filled out by you, were they not?”

He shrugged. “Yeah.”

“So are you very familiar with what’s on these sheets, or do you need a moment to look them over?” she asked in a patronizing tone.

His body stilled, and he sat up straighter, turning to look at Garrett. Garrett nodded for him to answer, and he turned back to Blair. “No, I know what’s on there.”

She tilted her head at him and proceeded to go through the entries in detail, pointing out all the discrepancies. “Maybe you’re right and numbers aren’t my thing. So how about you save us all some time and tell me where I can find the three million dollars that seem to be unaccounted for? I know you live quite the wild life now, but surely even
you
couldn’t have frivolously wasted three million dollars.”

He stared at the sheets. “Well, what can I say? I’m in California now. The cost of living is a hell of a lot higher there.” He gave her an ugly smile. “But a simple girl like you wouldn’t know anything about living on the coast, would you?”

Blair examined him like he was a cockroach she was about to crush with her sexy shoe, then pulled another paper from her folder. “I realize I’m a
simple girl
, so why don’t you explain these bank deposits?” She smiled.

He sat up straighter, his body tense.

She slid the paper slowly in front of him, her fingertips still on the sheet as she leaned over, her eyes boring into his. “Multiple large cash deposits were made to a bank account you set up in your father’s name. Your dead father, I might add.” She stood up and lifted a perfectly teased eyebrow. “Why does your deceased father need one million dollars, Mr. Norfolk? Last I heard, the deceased only need a single coin to travel down the River Styx.”

His eyes widened, and his mouth moved several times, forming and discarding words, before he finally said, “How did you find that?”

She gave him a withering smile. “I know. A simple girl like me, stumbling upon your hidden treasure. Maybe I’m not as simple as you think. There’s another two million unaccounted for. Where are
those
funds?”

Norfolk’s shoulders slumped, and he looked like a balloon that had been pricked with a pin.

She shrugged. “My client is a fair woman. We could bring this matter to the authorities—who would undoubtedly be
very
interested to know that you’re committing identity theft as well as tax evasion—since this statement—” she tapped on the paper in front of him, “—
clearly
shows that you are not only depositing money, but withdrawing it as well.” She paused and smiled. “But we’ll let this go as long as you agree to a new deposition and come clean about everything, and I do mean
everything
, Mr. Norfolk, down to the hangnail you clipped yesterday morning.” She leaned closer. “Have I made myself clear?”

“But I’m heading to the airport in an hour,” he sputtered.

“Then I guess you’d better reschedule your flight.” Blair turned her pointed gaze on Garrett. “Can we adjourn this until tomorrow morning? We obviously won’t be able to wrap this up in the next hour, but I will expect those bank account locations, account numbers, and balances by the time you show up tomorrow.”

Garrett was so turned on by her right now, and it was becoming increasingly impossible to hide it.
Totally professional, Lowry
. He glanced at his client. “Mr. Norfolk? Can you have the information ready in time?”

The man looked like he was about to jump across the table and throttle Blair. If he tried, it would be the last thing he ever did. But he gave a quick nod instead.

Garrett nodded. “You’ll have them.”

Blair gathered up her papers and tapped them on the table. “Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Norfolk. I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow morning.” She stood and turned her back as she headed toward the door.

“You bitch,” he muttered under his breath.

Garrett’s hands fisted, and he gritted his teeth.

Blair stopped and turned around to face him. “Whatever helps you fall asleep at night, Mr. Norfolk.” Then she left the room, shutting the door behind her.

The court reporter was packing up her belongings when Norfolk turned his attention on Garrett. “What the hell was that? I thought you were my lawyer, not her assistant.”

“Mr. Norfolk.” Garrett’s shoulders tensed as he forced himself to refrain from letting loose on the man. “If you ever speak to the opposing counsel so disrespectfully again, we will toss your case, along with your ass, out onto the street. Have I made myself clear?”

The man’s eyes bulged. “But now I’m going to have to pay the bitch even more money!”

Garrett had had enough of this man. “This is
your
fault. You were required
by law
to provide all of your income and investments, and now that your wife’s legal team has realized there were missing funds, you’re about to pay out the nose. You would have been better off if you hadn’t tried to hide it.” The real question was how Lopez had missed it. Garrett had glossed over all the financial paperwork, focusing on the totals, because he’d presumed the fool would have done his homework. He intended to call Lopez as soon as he got rid of the asshole next to him.

Norfolk stood and pointed his finger at Garrett. “You’re going to pay for this! I’m talking to your bosses.”

“Go ahead. They’ll tell you the same thing. That’s if they don’t fire you for committing illegal activities. We don’t represent criminals.”

The man’s face turned red. “Do they know you want to screw that bitch who just eviscerated me? I saw you salivating after her. What will they say when they find out you let her get away with it because you want to get into her pants?”

Garrett’s chest constricted as he stood, but he refused to show a reaction to his douchebag client. “I can assure you that I want to sleep with a long list of women, but I’ve never let that affect my counsel.” He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and saw Blair’s assistant in the now-open doorway.
Fuck.

Her assistant shot him a glare, then moved toward the court reporter and said something in a hushed tone about coming back in the morning.

Norfolk stomped out of the room, and Garrett closed his laptop and stowed it in his bag, taking a deep breath to help himself calm down. He kept the assistant in the corner of his eye. Based on the protective way she’d kept him from Blair’s office, he suspected she would run to Blair and tell her everything. Should he try to explain himself? His head told him to let it go, but a little voice inside him said that there was still a chance Blair wasn’t happy with Neil. Maybe her assistant could give him some insight. He didn’t expect her to spill her guts about her boss, but he was hoping he could read her body language when she answered him.

The court reporter headed out the door, followed by Blair’s assistant. He caught up to her just outside the room.

“Melissa, isn’t it?”

The woman turned to him in surprise, then her face lost all expression as she waited for him to continue. She reminded him of a slightly younger Blair.

“I feel like we got off on the wrong foot yesterday.”

Her eyebrows rose, and her mouth tipped into a hint of a smirk. “No, I think everything happened as it should have.”

“I don’t know what Blair told you, but—”

“
Ms. Hansen
didn’t tell me anything. You are a nonissue, so please don’t give yourself any more importance than you deserve.”

Ouch. She was good. “Okay, fair enough. But I’m sure she told you that I’m her fiancé’s cousin.”

She remained icy. “Really? What a coincidence.”

“I just don’t want things to be awkward this weekend.” Damn, he was royally screwing this up. He sounded lame even to himself.

A patronizing smile lit up her eyes. “Don’t you worry, Mr. Lowry. You don’t have the power to affect anything in regard to Blair’s wedding.” Then she turned and walked down the hall.

“You got burned by the Ice Princess, huh?” a man behind him said.

Garrett spun around to face him. “What?”

“Melissa.” He nodded his head in the direction she’d disappeared. “Her nickname around here is the Ice Princess. She’s just as frosty as the attorney she works for—the Ice Queen.”

Garrett couldn’t believe the arrogance rolling off this guy. “Let me guess, you and half the guys in this office have asked one or both of them out and were turned down.”

The guy’s confidence wavered. “Well . . . yeah.”

“So maybe instead of assigning them sexually degrading names, you should consider the possibility that they actually have good taste.”

He stormed out of the office, leaving the stunned man behind. He was furious by the time he reached his car in the parking garage. First Norfolk, then the asshole in the hallway.

Brian Norfolk was sure to call his boss, but no one there would take his claim seriously. Garrett’s reputation was too widely known for anyone to believe he’d alter his professional behavior to sleep with a woman. And even though he despised the man, he’d treated this case as he did all the ones he worked on—as if it were the most important one on earth. If anything, once Garrett let his boss know what had really happened, he might not have to worry about Norfolk at all. He hadn’t exaggerated about their stance on illegal activity. It was bad timing that Melissa had heard his comment, which would only cement Blair’s certainty that he was still a man-whore. But it was what that man had said about Melissa and Blair that burned him the most. Mostly because he’d been guilty of the very same thing in the past.