Wrangling with the Laywer (4 page)

BOOK: Wrangling with the Laywer
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He turned back to Don. “I think you should look into it.”

“You haven’t worked with her as long as I have. I don’t need to look into it. If she denies it, then that’s the end of the story.”

“Then I’ll look into it.”

Don stood up, following him out of the room. “Why?” He rounded on Gabe as soon as they were in the marble-floored hallway. “What purpose does it serve?”

“If something happened it could be used against us in court.” Gabe slid his hands into his pockets, fixing Don with a reasonable stare. “Why am I even explaining this to you? To be honest, I don’t know why it hasn’t been brought up before. I presume you’ve noticed that your client happens to be pretty attractive; you certainly seemed to want me to notice it the first time you brought her into my office.”

Don smiled. “You should have seen your face.”

“The fact that I want to sleep with her shouldn’t be a good thing in this context.” Gabe ignored Don’s open-mouthed protest. “I don’t imagine there are many men out there who don’t, especially men who’ve been working with her long enough to build up a healthy respect for her talent. Challenge just makes it all the more tempting.”

“For all of this to be a concern she’d have to be a willing participant.”

“She has a kid. On that basis, I’m guessing she’s not above being a willing participant once in a while.”

Don shook his head, stepping back towards the door. “Nobody wants to make this case about sex or gender, or anything else that blurs the focus.”

“Too late.” Gabe smiled at his friend as he turned to leave.

 

Harper
took the steps to the Modern Art Gallery more quickly that she probably should have considering the height of her heels. She took a moment to regain her breath before entering the main hall. After checking her coat, she stepped through the main doors into the vestibule. Around a hundred guests mingled in small groups. The sounds of animated but well-bred conversation hummed in the air, circling around the majestic ceiling. She was glad to see the lighting was flattering. She brushed her hair back across one shoulder, searching the room for her old friend and the person who had invited her to this event. She spied Natalie in a conversation near the bar. Perfect.

She ordered herself a glass of champagne and waited until Natalie had finished up.

“I thought you weren’t going to make it!”

Natalie was always the most beautiful woman in the room.
Harper had roomed with her at college and then for a couple of years post-grad, and was used to being virtually invisible in her presence. Fortunately she also knew that Natalie’s beauty really was more than skin-deep. Her friend had become one of the city’s top event planners, and she commissioned almost all of her work for her favourite charities. It helped that people just couldn’t say no to her.

Just like
Harper hadn’t been able to say no to this evening. “I had one of those nightmare scenarios with the babysitter,” she admitted. She took a long sip of her drink. “She turned up with her boyfriend. And a six-pack of beer.”

“No!”

Harper laughed, still feeling stunned. “I know. I had to drive Finn over to my sister’s last minute.” She forced a smile, but she was genuinely glad to see her friend. “Anyway, I’m here. You look fantastic. The place looks fantastic-”

“I’m so glad you came...” Natalie hugged her. “I know it’s not easy with Finn at the moment, I really appreciate the support.” Her expression fell. “We have to sell at least five of the top pieces to cover the cost of the event. No one’s even bought one of the cheaper ones yet. I’m absolutely dying out here.”

Harper frowned around at the crowd. Only counting the people in the room she recognised, she still could have solved the global debt crisis with their collective resources. She turned back to Natalie. “There’s a free bar. Give it time.” She cocked her champagne glass. “I’ll probably end up buying one of them myself.”

“You couldn’t even afford the ticket.” Natalie laughed. “Okay. But help me, will you?” Her expression became beseeching. “I know you hate this kind of thing, but you’re so good with the Hamptons’ crowd. Just make the rounds, gush over the paintings-”

“Okay, but if you see Marcus Hadley anywhere near me....”

Natalie laughed. “You know he’s been made CEO of that hedge fund-”

“Because his boss was jailed for fraud!” Harper was too amused to be outraged. “I heard that Marcus was one of the whistleblowers. The guy’s an absolute toad.”

“I will save you from Marcus Hadley.” Natalie paused. “I should warn you that
Joe’s here.”

Harper
felt the champagne react against her stomach. Her humour vanished. “Seriously?”

“His mother’s on the board. There wasn’t anything I could do.”

“Okay, well if you see me Marcus Hadley or Joe Davidson anywhere near me...”

Natalie’s attempt at a smile was dredged up. “I’ll come save you, I promise.”

The evening started on a good note. As requested, Harper did her best to help Natalie out. She spied Natalie’s well-heeled parents over by the main exhibit and wandered over to say hello. Natalie’s grade average had risen by over twenty percent after she’d started rooming with Harper in first year, and her parents had been fans ever since. They caught up on progress with the case and with Finn, before a few other groups started to mingle. Harper did her best to enthuse over the paintings. Everyone knew she’d made a fortune with her first studio after graduation; they also knew the ensuing court cases had ruined her. She could safely gush over the artwork without anyone expecting her to commit to a purchase.

“Everyone seems to be gunning for the steel wall-hanging over there suddenly.”

Harper turned to see Joe Davidson standing less than a foot away from her. The event was in full swing now; the free bar had been opened for several hours. Tired, she shifted her weight and narrowed her eyes on him. She’d been preparing to head home, hoping that Natalie could spare her finally. She’d been fantasising about a lie-in the following morning now that her son was safely ensconced at his aunt’s. The last person she wanted to deal with was Davidson.

“I asked around
. Everyone seems to think it’s good because you said it was.”

“It is.” She delivered the words with the lack of enthusiasm she felt.

Joe was taller than any man in the room at six-foot seven. He’d gone grey prematurely but the constant expression of entitlement on his face told the world he didn’t care. She supposed he was a catch in certain circles. She’d encountered enough of his petty maliciousness to know he wasn’t worth catching.

“How have you been?”

She wanted to laugh. “Great, Joe. How have you been?” Sarcasm thickened her voice.

“I hate that this case has gotten out of hand every bit as much as you do,” he said. He took a step closer, his voice lowering. “But business is business. I hope you know I still respect you-”

She backed away from him. “Your behaviour hasn’t even approached respectful for a long time.”

His expression stilled at first, but it regained some vigour as a tremor of agitation drew his brows together. “That’s hardly true-”

“I really don’t want to talk about this, and I really don’t want to talk to you.”

“I’m just trying to-”

“Don’t.” She took another step back. “Seriously. Don’t.” She could see on his face that her words weren’t quite sinking in. She didn’t know what she’d expected; it had been five years and still, after everything, he thought it was okay to approach her at an event like this and start up a friendly conversation. “Leave, or I will.”

He took a long, slow breath. “Fine.”

 

Gabe stood over by the wall, watching the proceedings with interest. Though perhaps interest was too weak a term. He’d experienced an injection of thick resentment when he’d seen
Davidson approach Harper. It had only been marginally diluted by witnessing Harper’s reaction; her body language had been pretty repulsed by Davidson’s overtures. Now, as he watched Davidson walk away, and Harper’s ensuing relief, he found himself wandering over to her almost on autopilot.

She looked mostly alarmed to see him. It irked him.

“Gabe.” She smiled. Her movements were awkward. “I didn’t know you were here. I didn’t see you earlier.”

“I just got here.”

“You haven’t missed much.” Her expression became rueful. “No one’s really buying anything. I think they all turned up for the free canapés.”

He couldn’t help but smile. “The canapés are awful.”

She laughed.

“Wasn’t that
Joe Davidson you were chatting with?” The laughter, though it had been light, stopped abruptly. She looked vulnerable the second the words left his mouth, and he immediately regretted their delivery. He should have approached the subject with more finesse. He experienced an unfamiliar sense of hesitation that softened his words. “Are you and he still on good terms?”

“No.” The words left her mouth on a burst of agitated air.

Nodding, he took a moment to survey the wall hanging in front of them. In his mind’s eye he was pouring over her image. She was beautiful this evening in her loose silk dress, held together around her slim waist by a silk tie. She had a kind of effortless beauty that shone above everything else in the room. He’d seen her talking with Natalie Van der Sar earlier; Natalie was easily one of the most agreeably beautiful women he’d ever met, and yet Harper’s attractiveness had obliterated it in his view. He realised now he had a very primitive attraction to her; it was chemical. He wanted her badly.

He wrestled with his professionalism for a moment. “I wasn’t trying to suggest anything. I’m still putting together all of the pieces.”

“Then you should know that my piece and Joe’s piece don’t belong anywhere near each other.” She turned on him, her expression drawn.  He could hear the effort to remain civil tearing at her voice.

“Understood.”

“I don’t think you do understand.” A cloud descended on her features.

“Then explain it to me.”

She watched him warily, dark blue eyes sparking in the dim light. She had no reason to trust him, he knew this. He also knew that he had no reason to trust her. “I’d rather not get into this here.” Her smile was tight.

“I’m leaving, anyway.” He didn’t even stop to think.  “My driver can drop you off; we can talk in the car-”

“Right now?” She looked ambushed.

“No time like the present. Unless you want to stick around to see if the canapés improve with age.”

Her smile was reluctant. “I live out in Brooklyn, you know.”

“I know. Don told me. Brooklyn Heights.”

She floundered for a moment. He could see the pros and cons being weighed up with difficulty behind her eyes. He wanted to cajole her a little, urge her on to speed things up, but instinct told him to hold off. He had the feeling she was woman who didn’t appreciate being controlled. There was something rigid in her, a brittleness that both irritated and challenged him. Matched with her pale beauty, it was... exciting.

“Okay.” A long breath escaped her. “I just have to let a few people know I’m leaving.”

Satisfaction poured through him. “I’ll meet you out front. I’ll be in a black town car.”

 

Chapter Three

 

“You know a lot of people.”

She didn’t look at him as she got into the car. It gave him an opportunity to glance at the pleasing length of her legs instead. She was surprisingly leggy for such a petite woman. 

“I’m paid to attend these events. It’s my job to mingle.”

“How much do they pay you?”

A smile curved her mouth. “Tonight has probably covered about two weeks’ legal fees.” Her tone dropped. “Or four and a half a days of your undivided time.”

He did the math with the lightening speed of a man with years of experience calculating the cost of his precious time. “Not bad.”

“Not bad if you can win the patent case in four and a half days.”

Knowing that they had weeks of work ahead of them, he took her comment as the joke he hoped it was intended to be. He was in a good mood anyway; he felt satisfied with the fact that she was leaving with him, enjoying the unexpected acquiescence of what he was starting to wonder might be a generally recalcitrant manner.  “I’ll do what I can,” was his empty promise.

It was silent for a moment as the car pulled away from the Opera house. The New York night flashed by them outside the car, subdued behind the tinted glass.

“I’m aware I might have given you the impression that there was more to my relationship with
Joe than I wanted to today,” she said suddenly.

That she broached the subject so quickly surprised him. She looked at him carefully as she continued. “It’s an easy target, to presume
Joe and I must have mixed business with pleasure. Everyone’s taken aim at it at some point or another-”

“Because these things often happen.”

“Yes, but it’s gone beyond the point now where it actually matters if it really happened or not,” she countered smoothly. “I don’t want anyone working on my legal team presuming that this case has anything to do with that.”

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