Jennifer's Garden (47 page)

Sam’s breath caught in her throat.  Trapped beneath his gaze, the question echoed Raul’s.

Around her, the noise level rose as lunch hour officially reached full sprint.  People shouted orders, metal cash registers clanged in action, but she focused solely on Vic.

Her suspicion returned.  Because I don’t need any help.  Because I don’t want the distraction.

Because I’ll be damned if some unknown hotshot comes in and tries to strip the prize from my hands regardless of how good, or how good-looking he is
.

Sam’s spine locked straight.  All her life she had to work twice as hard, run twice as fast—because she was a woman.  As an adolescent, her parents forced her to share an overload of responsibility for the care of five younger siblings, despite the fact her brother was scarcely a year behind her.  In college she was offered more sexual advances than internships with law school providing more of the same.

Sam sighed.  Baker, Schofield, Martinez and Brown had been the one interview where she felt wholly respected.  Wholly appreciated for her talent and
not
her looks.  Because of Raul.  He focused on her abilities and she responded.  From there, the man taught her everything she knew, from the law to the lowdown, and groomed her into the legal shark she was proud to be.

Her thoughts chilled.  Yet now, he was encouraging interference on her caseload from the new guy.  It didn’t make sense.

Sam honed in on Vic.  “Give me one good reason I should include you on Perry.”

“You said it yourself, I’m good.”

“So am I.”

“It’s a big case.  More than one attorney can handle.”

“I have Diego.”

“I have experience.”

“So I hear.”  Sam lifted her glass from the table, but never took her eyes off him.

“It could work to your benefit.”

“I work to my benefit.”

Vic eased his neck from the snug fit of his collar and reached for his glass.  “I’m offering to help, Sam.  Most attorneys would jump at the opportunity.”

“If you hadn’t gathered by now, I’m not most attorneys.”  Sam took a sip from her water, noting his sudden discomfort.  Was he agitated?  Squirming?  “Vic, help me out here.  Is there something I’m missing?”

“Missing?” he asked innocently, but his expression took the hit.  “Like what?”

“You’re working Memorial, right?”

“Planning to.”  Vic sat back in his chair.

“So why Perry?”  She gave a terse shake to her head.  “What’s in it for you?”

“Nothing’s
in
it for me.  Diego ran a few details of the case by me and I said I’d help.”  He shifted about in his chair.  “Forget it.  Sorry I asked.”

Sam pulled her arms into a cross over her chest and smiled thinly.  “I didn’t just roll off the mango truck.”

“What?  What the hell are you talking about, mango truck?”

“You know, mangoes...beautiful golden red on the outside, luscious tasty sweet on the inside?”

Vic looked at her as though she’d lost her mind.

But she hadn’t.  Not even close.

Sam flicked a glance to his plate.  “Finished?”

He slugged back the last of his water then smacked the glass to the table.  “Yeah, I’m finished.”

But Sam felt the distinct sense this was
far
from over.

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