Counselor Undone (16 page)

Plans? How was that any of his business?
“Um, no. Why do you ask?”

“I’m trying to figure out why you’re trying to avoid work
tonight. I’d think after a key case assignment of this nature, you’d be anxious
to prove yourself.”

“Prove myself how?” The question popped out before she could
check herself.

Michael’s brow creased. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jordis glanced at the door. Chase was still outside. She
dropped her voice to a half whisper. “Is this your way of ‘handling it’?”

“Handling what?”

Jordis took a deep breath. She didn’t know whether to call
him on his ploy to give them an excuse to work together or simply be smart
about avoiding situations that placed them alone at late hours. She really
wanted this case, but it stuck in her craw that she’d gotten it because Michael
Remington wanted to sleep with her. She had no doubt that’s what had given her
the edge when word around the firm had Covington pegged as shoe-in for top
pick.

She wasn’t slinking quietly into another
quid pro quo
situation where she’d be expected to put out to advance her career. “You know,
Michael, I expected different from you. Friday night when you said you’d find a
way to handle things between us, this isn’t what I thought you had in mind.”

His jaw flexed. “Why don’t you stop talking in riddles and
say what you mean?”

“
Fine
.” She shot
from her seat, abrupt momentum forcing her chair back and nearly over. Pressing
her hands flat on the conference table, she leaned towards him. “Just how are
you expecting me to prove myself, Mr. Remington? With my brains or on my back?”

His eyes flashed with sudden understanding. He rose slowly
from his chair, an evil look on his face, and said in a low mocking voice, “I
don’t know,
Ms. Morgan
. Which one are you better at?”

Jordis had the good sense to move away, but he stalked her
retreating figure. He backed her into the antique buffet holding the coffee
setup, leaving her nowhere to go. Refusing to be intimidated, she slid to her
right.

He reached out and pulled her back in front of him. “Where
are you going, Jordis? You didn’t answer my question.” With his hand firmly on
her hip, he held her imprisoned by placing his other hand on the antique close
enough to her body she could feel the heat from his forearm radiate along her
side.

Shallow, labored breaths pulsed from her lungs, fed by her
building temper. The woodsy scent of his cologne bombarded her senses. She
couldn’t smell it without thinking of that kiss in the elevator or the feel of
his hands under her coat in the Plaza parking garage.

That her body reacted physically to him despite her fury
intensified her mounting rage. The ever-present sexual tension between them
affected her more than his looming presence. By the smirk on his face, he knew
it. Her emotional gears shifted from angry to pissed. Two could play that game.

She drew a finger down the line of buttons under his Armani
tie and said in a sultry voice, “Lucky for you, I’m great at both.” She leaned
into him, both palms flat against his high-thread-count designer shirt. She let
one wander languidly against the fabric. “Which one were you planning to take advantage
of?”

Satisfaction speared through her when his hand flexed on her
hip and he sucked in a sharp breath.

It was short lived.

He countered immediately. “Which one are you offering?” He
pressed his hips against her, making the high edge of the buffet bite into her
lower back.

The twinge at her back barely registered due to the feel of
his arousal throbbing against her pelvis, but it wasn’t lust in his eyes. He
looked like he wanted to throttle her.

“And are you planning to put out right here or do I have to
take a number behind Covington?”

She flinched. “Bastard!” The word burst from her mouth and
her hands shoved hard against his chest. “Get off me!”

He grabbed her wrists. “You know, sweetheart, I’ve been at
this game a long time. No one calls into question my integrity without being
able to back it up. Make no mistake. I want you. I want you bad. But I don’t
make professional decisions with my dick. So, the next time you think you’re
currying favor with me because I want to stick mine in you, remember this. I’d
never risk my reputation or the future of this firm on a piece of tail, not
even one as mouthwatering as you.”

“Michael!” Chase stood in the doorway, a look on his face
comprised of equal parts horror, surprise, and ire.

Michael released Jordis’s hands abruptly, and she tottered
to the side before regaining her balance. She glared at him, fists balled tightly
at her sides, using all her energy not to punch him and to swallow words that
would likely end her career at RHM. She turned to leave, back straight, fists
still clenched.

Before she reached the door, Michael called after her.
Jordis stopped, but didn’t turn around.

“You have all afternoon to review what you feel you need to
review. I’ll expect you back here at six o’clock. Don’t worry about dinner.
I’ll have something brought in.”

She exited, shutting the door with a force only a few decibels
below a slam.

* * *

“Dammit!” With one swipe of his hand, Michael sent the
silver tray holding coffee condiments flying off the buffet onto the floor.
Sugar packets fluttered listlessly to the carpet and blanketed red plastic
stirrers lying in a pick-up-sticks pattern. Mini creamer cups bounced and
rolled.

Chase surveyed the mess. “Did that help?” He shook his head.
“What the
hell
is wrong with you?”

Michael stormed over to the windows, not happy that his
partner had witnessed him becoming completely undone. “It’s her.”

“Jordis? Well, duh, Sherlock.”

“No. Juliet.”

“Juliet? Michael, don’t you have enough to worry about with
your feelings for Jordis? You really think you need to hang on to this fixation
on Juliet?”

He turned to face Chase. “She
is
Juliet.”

“What? You don’t honestly believe Jordis Morgan is your
mystery woman?”

“Yeah.” His shoulders dropped. “I do.”

“Um, Michael,” Chase crossed his arms, “you have noticed
that’s not a suntan Jordis is sporting, right?”

Michael gave his buddy the evil eye. “Don’t be a smart-ass.”

Chase chuckled. “I’m just saying. That’s a pretty fundamental
characteristic to overlook.”

“I know, but it was dark. I was focused on her dress. Well,
actually, I was focused on how she
looked
in that dress. I was so wrapped up in the way she made me feel I didn’t think
about the possible nuances of her complexion. I just assumed . . .” He shoved
his hands into his hair, paced a step and then stopped. “How ‘bout you cut me
some slack, huh? What difference does it make what color she is? If we’re
talking skin tone, I’m probably as dark as she is.”

Chase’s head bobbed at the comment. “True. And you know her
color doesn’t matter to me, of all people, but the info would certainly have
changed the nature of our search.” A wide grin spread across his face.

It was true Chase wasn’t one to draw color lines. Under the
blond hair, blue eyes and fair skin, there was more to Chase than met the eye.
At the moment, however, Michael didn’t give a crap about the man’s elevated
psyche. His hands found his hips as he glared at his friend.

Still grinning, Chase backed off. “Okay. Okay. Let’s put
that aside for a minute. What makes you think she’s Juliet?”

“It’s been driving me crazy from the moment I met her, this
nagging feeling I knew her from somewhere. Then I . . .” Michael’s voice
trailed off.

“Then you what?”

He took a deep breath. “I kissed her.”

One side of Chase’s mouth twitched. “You kissed her?”

Michael was glad someone found this funny. “Several times.”

Chase stepped over the coffee service mess and leaned
against the buffet. “Let me get this straight. You believe Jordis is your
elusive mystery woman. You’ve kissed her . . . more than once. And then you
called her a ‘piece of tail’ just now as your way of moving this budding
romance to the next level?”

Right. Stupid.
Michael
shook his head. “No, I—” He dropped into a conference table chair. “Ugh!
That woman is driving me out of my mind. I dream about her. I start out
dreaming about Juliet, but by the time the dream is over, she’s changed into
Jordis.”

“And because of this morphing dream, you believe Jordis is
Juliet?”

“It’s more than that.”

“All right.” Chase walked over and sat down perpendicular to
him. “Tell me about it.”

He ran Chase through his encounters with Jordis thus far.

Chase nodded his head then glanced at the door through which
Jordis had exited. “How does Jordis feel about all this?”

He leaned back in his chair, somewhat relieved Chase didn’t
think he was nuts. “I don’t know. We haven’t discussed it.”

“Why not? Until you verify it with her, this is all
supposition on your part.”

“If you remember, as Juliet, she didn’t want me to know her
real name. Given her absolutely-not stance on a relationship with her
supervising attorney, I’m doubtful she’ll be thrilled to learn the truth.” He
drummed his fingers against the table. “I’ve come up with another way to check
her attendance at that party New Year’s Eve.”

“How?”

“I realized I could remember the number on the side of the
taxi she left in. I sent the information to our investigator this morning to
check out.”

“So you really can’t be sure she’s your Juliet until you get
a report back from Rodriguez.”

“I’m sure. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.
Whatever Rodriguez finds during his investigation will only be confirmation of
what I already know in my gut.”

Chase nodded. “Okay. Then she’s right to be concerned about
the supervising attorney issue. You need to get that resolved if you’re serious
about pursuing this.”

“I can’t ask her to pass on the Metra Pharmaceuticals case because
I’m attracted to her.”

“No, but if you both want this relationship to continue,
then you could mutually agree Jordis take a different case assignment or
transfer to another department. She’s got as much transactional experience as
litigation. She’d be great in Business and Finance. I’m sure Roy would love to
have her.” Chase laughed loudly at the look on Michael’s face. “Down, boy! I
didn’t mean it
that
way. Roy is a lot
of things, but he would never step on another man’s toes, especially not a
friend. Boy, you’ve got it bad!”

He had it bad all right. When he’d walked in on Jordis with
Covington this morning something vicious and green had crawled onto his back,
and he hadn’t been able to shake it loose. “You don’t understand.”

Chase rose and put a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “I understand
better than you think. I once dated a woman who turned me inside out like
that.” Chase headed for the door.

Michael swiveled his chair towards his friend’s departing
frame. “What did you do?”

Chase stopped and turned. A slow grin crept up one side of
his face. His eyebrows peaked as he cocked his head. “Think about it for a
minute.” When Michael’s eyes finally widened in a startled face, Chase laughed.
“Yeah, I married her.”

Michael stopped outside the East Conference Room a few hours
later and stared through the open door at Jordis working silently at the conference
room table. He’d been stewing over their run-in all afternoon. His actions had
gotten out of hand. He’d never behaved that way with a colleague, especially
not a woman.

Chase’s comment about marrying the only woman to turn him
inside out weighed on his mind. He’d stumbled into unknown emotional territory,
but he was nowhere near that quagmire of male dysfunction. That Jordis thought
him one of those guys who thought himself entitled to collect special favors
from his female employees had angered him. He normally flicked off others’
opinions of him—good or bad. For some reason, this woman’s opinion of him
mattered, a lot. Perhaps her opinion mattered too much.

She was hiding something. More than being close to her
brother had brought her back to Kansas City. When he’d returned to his office
this afternoon, he’d logged into his voicemail and received a heads-up from an
unlikely source. The unexpected message had caught him by surprise: “Remington,
Keith Wilson here. It seems you and I have something in common . . .”

Michael had moved to erase the message when something in the
man’s tone had caught his attention. The animosity came through in a harsh
sneer: “. . . so before you get too attached to our Miss Jordis, you might want
to ask her why she really left LA.”

Part of him understood Wilson had left the warning expressly
to cause trouble for Jordis. From the bad blood he’d witnessed between the two,
Wilson wasn’t exactly a reliable source of information. Nevertheless, Wilson’s
insinuation Jordis had left LA for some nefarious reason had him curious.

He took a deep breath as he considered how best to proceed
with her. He’d been adamant about starting their strategy sessions tonight.
During his analysis of the plaintiff’s motion for summary judgment, he’d
discovered some troubling factual information relied upon by the other side. He
wanted to talk through his suppositions and theories about how the plaintiff had
obtained some of that factual information, but he needed to clear the air
between them first and now the mystery of LA nagged at him.

He stepped into the conference room and closed the door. He
leaned against it. His eyes wandered to the Chinese food set up on the credenza.
It hadn’t been touched. “You’re not going to eat?”

Jordis didn’t turn around or speak.

“Jordis?”

“I’m not hungry. Let’s get to work.”

She leaned over the table and sorted through a pile of folders
on the far side of the table. Her tight, firm bottom drew his attention. The
enticing image made him want to step up behind her and lift her skirt. He
closed his eyes briefly to gain some control. He needed to make peace with her.
That wouldn’t happen if he let his baser emotions get the better of him.

“Jordis, we need to talk.” He moved to her side and reached
for the stack of folders in her hand. His palm brushed the back of her hand,
and hot energy rippled through him from that simple touch. He went still,
hyperaware of the feel of her skin against his palm and the curve of her hip
pressed against his. He let his hand trail slowly past her wrist, up her
forearm. Jordis pulled back, but Michael rested his hand against her far hip to
keep her close.

“Michael, don’t. We’re at the office. We need to focus.” She
broke his hold and placed herself out of his reach.

He blew out a long breath. “Yeah. Focus.” He stepped away
from the table. “I can’t focus very well when I’m around you.”

Jordis scowled at him. “Well, you need to get over it.”

“And you need to get a clue!” His brows bunched into deep
creases.

Her widened eyes lit instantly with fury.

He drove a hand into his hair. He hadn’t meant to bark at
her, but how could he get over this if he couldn’t even talk with her about it.
“We can’t stick our heads in the sand. This spark that ignites every time we’re
in a room together isn’t going to go away just because we work together and I
happen to be your supervising attorney.”

“Maybe. Then again, we’re adults not children. We understand
there are things we want that we can’t have. A simple case of self-control,
mind over matter, and we manage to get along without them just fine.”

“Mind over matter? Really? That’s your answer?” His arms
crossed over his chest. “Is it really that easy for you to turn it on and off?”

“Yes, it’s that easy.” She looked away.

He couldn’t see her eyes to judge her truthfulness.

She stepped around the table to where she’d spread out her
case notes and sat down. Michael watched her pull over a folder and primly open
it, purposely avoiding eye contact. Time passed while she fiddled with two pens
and a highlighter. He didn’t move.

Eventually, she looked up. “I thought you ordered me here to
work on the case, not discuss our personal issue.”

He raised a brow at her use of the word
ordered
. “Well . . . now, I want to address both.”

“Since we’re on the client’s time at the moment, how about
we stick to the case?” Impatience and disinterest lived on her face, but those
eyes—those extremely expressive eyes—revealed what she’d hidden
from him moments before. She’d lied about how easy it was for her to turn off
her emotions.

He slid his hands into his pockets, satisfied he wasn’t in
this alone. “You’re right. We have work to do. So, I’ll table the personal
discussion—
temporarily
.” He leaned
onto the table, palms flat. To match his mood, his voice modulated to the
unyielding tone he used when cross-examining a hostile witness. “Make no
mistake, however. When we’re through here, Ms. Morgan, we’re having that other
conversation.”

Butt dropped into a chair, he snapped open his own folder,
took a deep breath to center himself, and buckled down to focus on the case.
“Our opponents have taken a pretty aggressive stance on their motion for
summary judgment. Something has made them think they have the upper hand, and
we need to figure out what it is.” He snatched up a group of folders piled to
his right. “Take a look at these. They were in the last batch of documents
adverse counsel sent over. Interestingly, the file room managed to misplace the
box they came in for over a week.”

“A week?” She flipped open the top folder of the stack he’d
handed her without missing a beat. Apparently, she was better at this mind over
matter thing than he was. “Where were they finally located?”

“In the file room, misfiled a few cases over. I thought it rather
suspicious when they turned up basically in plain sight. And, they weren’t the
only documents missing. A box of our client’s confidential, attorney-client
privileged documents went missing at the same time.”

She leaned her forearms on the table. “Let me guess. The box
of confidential documents managed to show up at the same time as the missing
discovery documents.”

“Exactly.” He grabbed a document from the stack of pleadings
his secretary had left him and tossed it across the table at her. “Here’s a
copy of the motion. I highlighted some factual allegations and legal theories
which appear to be based upon confidential information.”

Jordis’s head snapped up. “You think opposing counsel had
improper access to the attorney-client privileged documents?”

“Or they’ve had access to the database where we store
electronic copies of all case documents. I’ve asked the IT department to look
into whether the firm database has been accessed by any unauthorized users, but
it will take a couple of weeks for them to do a thorough evaluation.”

“We don’t have a couple of weeks.” Jordis stood and
commandeered the conference call setup in the middle of the table. “I think I
can do better than that.”

She dialed a number and pulled a microphone/speaker
satellite towards herself and slid one towards Michael.

A deep voice answered on the other end. “Brandt Morgan.”

“Hey, bro. I need your help with something, and I have you
on speakerphone with my boss. So, behave.”

“Which boss is that?” Brandt asked. “The arrogant, domineering
jerk or the prince of a guy with the great sense of humor?”

Staring at Jordis’s mortified face, Michael responded, “Michael
Remington here, Brandt. I believe I would be the arrogant, domineering jerk.”

Jordis bit her lip as she tried to hide a smile. Michael continued
to watch her, and she shrugged at him.

Brandt laughed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you by phone, Michael.
What can I do for you guys?”

Jordis leaned towards the speakerphone. “Michael thinks
someone may be tapping into our case database and accessing privileged documents.”

“I think it may be more than just case documents, Brandt,”
Michael added. “I don’t keep my strategy notes or work product on the main database.
I have a separate electronic system for those, but I believe our opponents may
have had access to those as well.”

“Oh, so we’re going on a spy hunt.” Brandt’s voice dripped
with glee.

Jordis shook her head at the excitement in her brother’s
voice. “You’re such a geek.”

“And proud of it. Jordis, do you have your laptop handy?”
Brandt asked her.

“Yeah, sure.” She leaned over and pulled her laptop out of
her tote.

“I have remote access set up on your laptop. Let’s get down
to business.”

They worked through issues with Brandt as he scouted around
the firm network. After a couple of hours of troubleshooting, Brandt discovered
a gateway that allowed back door access. An unknown external ISP had used the
gateway several times. Michael made arrangements for Brandt to liaise with the
firm’s IT group so he could gather more detailed information on the breach and
run a trace.

“Once I get set up with your people, Michael, it should only
take me a few hours to track the unknown ISP and figure out whether your
backdoor was left open by an insider or pried open by a trespasser. Sis, I’ll
talk to you later. ” Brandt clicked off.

Jordis made a show of checking the time on her mobile phone.
“I think we’ve covered enough ground tonight. I need a break and some dinner.”
She gathered her notes from the table and stood. “I’ll look at everything some
more tomorrow and let you know if I find anything else of note.”

“Jordis, now that we’re off the client’s dime, let’s talk.
We can heat the Chinese food if you need to eat.”

She shook her head and shouldered her tote. “I’m not in the
mood for Chinese.” She headed for the door.

“
Stop
.” At the
sharp crack of his command, she froze. “Maybe you have nothing to say, but I
do. At least, let me apologize for what I said earlier.”

“Apology accepted. Now let’s move on.”

He reached for her, but she yanked her arm away. “Don’t.”

“Jordis, talk to me. I . . .” He huffed out a breath.

Jordis stared at him, waiting.

He felt like an imbecile having to admit what had been going
through his mind. “I was angry.”

“I figured that much out on my own.”

“No, I mean, when I walked in and saw you with Covington,
I—”

“You assumed I was making out with him only days after my
interlude with you.”

His lips pressed together at her directness.

“What’s the matter, Michael?” She gave him a skeptical look.
“Were you jealous at the thought I might not be completely bowled over by your
charms?”

“Yes!” he snapped.

Her look of surprise took the edge off her smart-aleck
remark.

“I’m not usually a jealous man. I don’t get possessive over
women. But for some reason with you, I feel both. I don’t know what to do with
that.”

“There’s really nothing for you to do with that . . . except
maybe let it go.” She took a step towards him. “We’re colleagues, Michael.
Nothing more. I’ve been handed a case that will pretty much make my career here
as long as we don’t screw it up. I’m not jeopardizing that for a fling with a
man who can have any woman in this firm he wants.” A shrug hitched her tote
strap higher on her shoulder. “Do us both a favor. Pick someone else.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Let’s be clear.” Her eyes narrowed. “I want you, too. Bad.
But I want this partnership more than I want your d— . . .
member
in me. So, this piece of tail is
going home so we can both keep our integrity intact.” She strode towards the
door.

This time he let her go, afraid if he put his hands on her,
he’d try shaking sense into her or find a more sensually demonstrative way to
prove the bluff behind her words. Neither action would be a wise way to handle
their impasse. He’d accumulated enough marks against him for one day.

She’d made her position clear. She prioritized using this
case to cement her selection to partnership. Her career took precedence over
any personal relationship with him. The one time it would have been to his
benefit to have a woman use him to try to further her career, he ended up with
an ambitious associate with ethics.