Wrangling with the Laywer (2 page)

He smiled at her matter-of-fact lack of modesty. She wasn’t gloating; she clearly believed what she was saying.

He pressed on. “So, again, what’s the patent request?”

“We’ve called it Cross Screen.” She sighed; there was some tension around her eyes as she narrowed them on him. “Nemei Corp has come forward with a patent request for the term and the concept, which they say applies to their multi-platform operating systems.”

“Davidson again? The same company you’re currently in civil court with?”

Her smile was tight. “We’ve been served with a cease-and-desist order, and they’ve basically removed Cross Screen from sale until this is all resolved.”

Gabe sat back. His blood heated. Joe Davidson’s Nemei Corporation was the type of overgrown corporate beast that brought out his more savage tendencies. He’d been watching the civil suit for some time; of course, the whole business world had been watching the civil suit. After she’d lost the criminal prosecution against Nemei a year ago, Harper had entered into the civil suit with three other development studios who wanted to claim the same damages. There were now twenty-three plaintiffs and rising. It was starting to seem like Nemei Corp might finally be forced to admit liability. It was a dirty trick for them to be strangling her wherewithal in the meantime.

Don sat forward. “It’s not in our interests for
Harper to have different representation on this case,” he said. “There has to be some semblance of unity about this case and the civil suit. We don’t want people to think for a second they’re not related. It has to be clear that it’s the same company trying to screw our client again-”

“I get it.” Gabe sat back. “In other words, you would make the filing, I would do the work.”

“Not your usual style.” Don’s tone was only fractionally teasing.

Gabe couldn’t believe he was actually considering this, especially given his caseload right now. “Not my usual style at all. I’m not particularly concerned about the paperwork, but I’d expect to manage the case like any other if I were to even consider taking it.”

Harper and Don shared a look. “We’d really like you to litigate this one,” Don said. “We figured we make it clear that Harper is our client, so we make the filing. Then we contract you on our behalf. The rest is up to you.”

So Don’s firm would be his client, rather than
Harper. Gabe liked this scenario, though he didn’t take the time at that second to analyse why. “When would it start?”

“We’ll make the filing tonight if you say yes.”

He smiled. Not even a discussion on rates. They really wanted him on this case. It made sense; they couldn’t afford to lose this. He turned to Harper, considering her steady regard for a couple of seconds in silence. She didn’t show any emotion at all. He could only imagine what it would cost her to lose this after so many years of fighting this corporation so publicly. She’d already had at least four years of legal wrangling, and yet she’d somehow still managed to keep her business not just running, but thriving. He knew from her file that her marriage had failed in the interim and that she had sole care of a four year-old boy. She probably needed this so badly her fingernails would be drawing blood under the table, and yet her expression was like porcelain, calm and still.

As he held her gaze, his blood fired again.

“Finn, sweetie, put down the remote control.”

Why did they call it the terrible twos? Harper leaned across the table with a cloth and wiped sauce from the front of her son’s t-shirt. Finn had only just turned four but it was like someone had inserted a bigger and stronger battery in him. He was terrible almost every second he was awake at the moment. She could barely keep up.

“Honey, put down the remote control and finish your dinner,” she repeated. She placed her own fork on the table, too tried to keep eating. “Now, please, Finn.”

Blond like her ex-husband, his mutinous blue eyes looked up at her blankly. This was his favourite look nowadays: blank rejection. It was the look that greeted every request or query. “I don’t like the fish,” he intoned.

She didn’t even bother to mention it had been his favourite until two weeks ago. She had to remember not to cook it again for a while. “Finish up that last piece and you can have your dessert in front of the T.V.” She felt a flicker of disappointment with herself when his expression creased into satisfaction. She was so tired... she just needed half an hour of peace and quiet.

While Finn ate his dessert in front of cartoons, she stayed in the kitchen and started filling up the dishwasher. Her mind leafed through the events of the day like it was perusing a magazine. It skipped over the distractions until it got to the main story: Gabe Stahl. She poured over every word spoken, every gesture and every movement during their early evening meeting. It was like she was probing a sore tooth, desperate to find something wrong. She paused, turning off the tap and staring out into the dark night. That telltale desperation to impress, so prevalent among men with his level of success, just hadn’t been there. He’d been impressive, all right, but she’d felt compelled rather than manipulated into feeling it.

Though, of course, he had legendary status among his peers, and considering his peers had been her main companions for the last five years, she admitted now she’d entered the room with some preconceptions. She smiled to herself; it had been a bit like sitting across from a movie star. He’d certainly looked like one. She’d found herself conjuring up his face in her mind every few minutes or so since the meeting had ended, just to experience the wave of feel-good hormones it seemed to release. It hadn’t just been the obviously chiselled good-looks. He was handsome, but the way his eyes had creased warmly, and yet so darkly, when he’d smiled at her... She had a good feeling about this man. Didn’t they say you ended up with the face you deserved?

“Mommy, what are you doing?”

She turned. Finn was reaching up to the counter for his cup of water. She realised she was standing staring into space, holding a dirty wooden spoon in her hand. She gave herself a mental kick. “Just cleaning up, sweetheart.”

“You were smiling.”

“Was I?” She melted a little as her son’s face settled into a grin. Love relaxed her limbs and calmed the rough seas in her mind. “I was thinking about some stuff from work today.” She closed up the dishwasher. “Do you want to play some bingo before your bath?”

“Can we read a story?”

She leaned down, pressing her lips firmly against his plump, warm cheek. “How about we have your bath now, and read the story after?”

He considered this for a couple of seconds. “Then I get two stories: the one from before the bath instead of the bingo, and the normal one from after. But at the same time.”

She laughed. “You’re getting too smart, kid. You know that, right?”

It wasn’t until long after Finn had fallen asleep and the house was restored to some order than Harper finally lay down on her bed. Fully clothed, too tired to move, she allowed her thoughts space to drift. It only took a couple of seconds before she thought about Gabe again. She closed her eyes, a truant smile grabbing her as her mind ran across the features on his face, piecing them together in confusion. He wasn’t her type at all... she couldn’t understand why she kept dwelling on him. She was surrounded by gorgeous, eligible men in their prime all day these days. She’d had plenty of opportunity since her marriage had broken up to dwell over handsome lawyers if she’d wanted to; the truth was, between Finn, the studio, and the court cases, she just didn’t have the time and energy left to focus on sex or romance. What on earth had rattled her cage today?

She sat up. Why had he been staring at her so intently? She’d felt horribly self-conscious. She was sure she hadn’t imagined it; there was no way her body would just start randomly firing off signals like it had in the middle of a business meeting. She couldn’t believe she’d actually almost blushed! She hadn’t blushed under a boy’s gaze since high school. Even now her face coloured with the recollection. It had clearly been too long since she’d had sex. She’d turned into one of those cautionary tales: a woman who’d given up her basic femininity to fight for her career. Now, middle-aged and alone, she was getting desperately turned on by random strangers in business meetings.

She eased up and slipped her skirt off. The phone rang next to her bed as she was undoing her blouse. She leaned across and lifted up the receiver, still fiddling with the buttons with one hand. A familiar, low voice stopped her progress.

“
Harper? This Gabe Stahl.”

She froze, catching sight of herself in the mirror across the bedroom. She was standing in skimpy underwear, a shocked expression on her face. She found her voice. “Hi, Gabe.”

“Sorry to call so late.”

“Not at all. I was just-” She stared at herself blankly in the mirror for second. Thinking inappropriate thoughts about you? “-tidying up.” She turned away from her uncomfortable expression and sat on the edge of the bed. “What can I do for you?”

He paused. “I agreed to take the case. Don filed the paperwork about an hour ago.”

She hadn’t realised she’d been holding her breath until it rushed out. “Oh.” She covered the slip with a light laugh. “That’s... that’s great news.”

“I’d like to file a motion to dismiss tomorrow morning.” He didn’t pause to celebrate with her, his tone all business. “It’s going to require both of us in court. Can you make it for around ten? It should only take a couple of hours. It’s preliminary and it’ll be thrown out, but we need to do it.”

She made a stab at flicking through her mental calendar but it lay in a mess of general confusion along with the rest of the events of the day. “Sure.” She swallowed. This was important, and it was after she dropped Finn at kindergarten. She would make the time.

“I’ll send a car for you at your studio. You’re based on sixteenth and Broadway, right?”

“Right.”

“Good, okay. I appreciate it.”

She felt unaccountably pleased by his approval. Suppressing the unexpected emotion, she gathered her wits about her to broach a subject she hadn’t been comfortable voicing during the meeting. “Gabe? Are you going to be able to fit this case in at such short notice?”

There was another pause, only the implied static across the digital space between them signalling that he was still there. “Of course,” he said. “I wouldn’t have taken it otherwise.”

“I just felt... you know, that Don didn’t really emphasise...” She wasn’t sure how to phrase the issue. “The thing is, Nemei Corp really don’t want to see me win. This has got less to do with the patent than with crushing my company’s only means of survival. They’ll drag this out as long as they can; it’ll end up eating up a lot of time that you’d probably normally be spending on your other work, or your family... Don’s been living this case for nearly five years.”

“I’m aware of that. But this is just a patent case, Harper.” He sounded confident.

“Yeah... and it all started as a minor breach of contract dispute.”

“I can deal with whatever Nemei Corp has to dish out.”

He still sounded sure. Steely sure. She felt a glimmer of optimism. “Okay. I just wanted to get that out in the open. Then you can’t say you didn’t know in ten years’ time when your life’s in ruins.”

She heard him laugh. It was a rich, infectious sound. “If I haven’t solved this patent dispute in ten years’ time, I deserve to have my life in ruins.” There was a faint beep. “I’ve got to go. Another call. I’ll see you tomorrow, ten sharp.”

“See you tomorrow.”

“Sleep well.”

What did she say? You, too? The line went dead before she could recover.

Placing the phone back in its receiver, she fell back on to the bed and blew the hair back from her cheek with a burst of air. She hadn’t even gotten round to second-guessing the advantages of inviting yet another brilliant, complicated and probably controlling man in her life. He was taking the case. She rubbed her temples, wondering distractedly what she was going to wear tomorrow.

Chapter Two

The court building was a sludgy mess of treaded snow and irritated people when she was dropped off at half nine the next morning. She elbowed her way past a human obstacle course to enter the main vestibule. Cases were heard on the second floor; she looked up and saw Gabe’s figure on the balcony in conversation with two other men. He stood out like a Greek god among the heaving masses, gleaming and statuesque. A prickle of awareness shot down her spine.

Had she actually just used the term Greek god in her head? Maverick, and a Greek god? She really had to get a grip.

Gabe had his back to the events unfolding downstairs, but he glanced to one side during a break in the conversation. Just in time to catch
Harper putting her heels back on after the security check. He’d never been a legs man, or had anything even remotely like a foot fetish, but the sight of her slender ankles in those stockings slipping into very un-mommy-like black stilettos paralysed him for a second. For the life of him, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering yet again what other surprising delights she had hidden away somewhere under that unassuming, businesslike facade. He’d taken a moment to question his motivations for taking this case last night, before accepting. After careful consideration he’d decided the chance to go after Davidson was the lure. The inevitable unfurling of Harper Green’s charms would be a bonus. And he had no doubt the unfurling would be inevitable. Don’s firm was his client; she was not. The ethical waters might be murky on this score but, recalling those black pumps, he had a feeling that he’d find a way through them.