Killer Career (5 page)

So, this is how it is.
Julie fought back a wave of
disappointment at the dash of her silly imaginings.

“You are--?” the brunette prompted.

“Julie McGuire.”

“Follow me.” The woman turned and marched down a hallway lined
with bold abstract art. The paintings’ bright colors made Julie
dizzy as she zoomed past, trying to keep up. She stifled uncharitable
hopes of the siren twisting her ankles in the three inch heels. It
didn’t make sense to feel dislike for someone she’d barely met.
The brunette stopped abruptly and waved toward an open door. “In
there.”

Julie thanked her and slipped inside. A shiny glass table dominated a
major portion of the room. Above it loomed a gigantic crystal tier
chandelier. Tyler certainly had a thing for chandeliers. They were
all over the place in this building.

Three middle aged women sat frowning, looking displeased at the sight
of more competition. Apparently she wasn’t the only one who
fantasized about Jensen.

After introducing herself and receiving a tepid response, Julie found
a name tag, along with pen and notebook by one of the black leather
seats.

The chandelier sparkled innocently, shedding its glow over the
participants as well as the hazy grayish-blue pattern of the walls.
Julie’s writer’s mind pictured the lights flickering and the
chandelier crashing down onto someone’s head. But whose? There were
so many candidates in such an unfriendly bunch.

Two more women filed in, one blue haired in a rayon type pantsuit,
the other a twenty-something dishwater blonde in jeans and tee shirt,
hardly an outfit to make a good impression. A large-boned man with a
prominent nose and jovial laugh stepped inside, followed by a short,
slight, soft-spoken one. The two were the only males in the bunch.

A hush fell over the room. The Great Mystery Writer entered and took
his place at the head of the table.

“Pick up your pen and get started. I’d like a one page
description of what you did yesterday. I’ll return in ten minutes.”

He swung open the door and disappeared, leaving more than one mouth
gaping.

This man meant business. She better get started. Julie remembered the
day all too well since it had been identical to so many others. It
didn’t take long to jot down her sorry description.

Jensen returned and fastened his eyes on her. “Read yours.”

Good grief, nothing like being the first one. If only her report were
more exciting.

She described trekking from the office to the Illinois Workers’
Compensation Commission for a trial, then trudging back to the
office, where she dictated letters to her administrative assistant.
That done, she mulled over some cases with her partner, grabbed a
late lunch, answered telephone calls and prepared three proposed
decisions. That evening, instead of relaxing, she grabbed a file from
her black leather catalog case and reviewed medical reports for an
upcoming hearing.

“Is that a typical day,” he asked.

She nodded.

“Other than legal work, what do you write?”

“I’ve started a thriller, but I don’t have time to finish it.”
Frustration welled inside of her.

Jensen pounded his fist on the table. “You must write every day.
Nothing should stand in your way.”

“That’s impossible. I have a law firm to run.”

“To hell with your law firm. Quit it. Sell it. Or you won’t be a
writer.”

She’d worked too hard for her livelihood to be dismissed that
easily.

“I make good money at what I do. I live in the real world, not
dreamland. I can’t take off on a writing sabbatical whenever I
please. My partner, as well as my clients, need me.”

His eyes took on a fanatical gleam. “Your partner can find another
partner. They can handle the precious clients.”

Julie bit her lip and glared. “I made a commitment. I’ll work
things out somehow, even if I have to get up early and write.”

“That won’t get you anywhere. You’re fooling yourself.”

With a dismissive look, he turned from Julie and queried the gray
haired woman next to her. “And what about you, ma’am, do you have
what it takes? Are you gutsy enough to sacrifice everything and
devote yourself to writing? Or do you also have commitments you’re
not willing to let go?”

Though he was speaking to the other woman, he seemed to be addressing
Julie. A slow burn gathered in her throat. If today was an example of
his remaining workshops, she wanted no part of them.

She listened as Jensen reviewed the other participants’
accountings. Though many of them said they didn’t have time to
write each day, with none had he been as cutting as with her. Why had
he singled her out?

After he finished the round, Jensen reviewed various research methods
and listed favorite websites and library resources. He instructed
them to be vigilant about the sights, smells and sounds of everyday
living and incorporate them into their novels to engage all the
senses.

Staring straight at Julie, he concluded, “I want you to examine
your commitment. To be a writer, nothing must stand in your way.”

The two hour session flew by. Afterward, a few of the participants
approached Jensen.

He shooed them away, saying, “You’ll learn it all soon enough.”

Julie stood up.

“Ms. McGuire, I’d like a word with you.”

“Fine.” Unflinching, she stared at him. If he was looking for a
battle, he’d get one.

“Think over your hostile reaction. You have a conflict to resolve.
I didn’t create it.”

He swept out of the room before she could form a response. Besides,
what could she say that wasn’t a lie? He’d seen past her
peripheral anger and zoned in on her true dilemma. She’d wedged
herself into a no-win situation and needed a way out. She’d worked
hard to build up the law firm, with Dade beside her each step of the
way. How could she reject him to follow a dream?

How could she not? In her heart she knew Jensen was right. This was
her passion and she craved to fulfill it. Unfortunately, by doing so,
she’d also be making the ultimate sacrifice.

Julie sighed, feeling like a traitor. She’d made promises she
couldn’t keep. Soon she’d hurt someone dear.

* * *

It was already Friday morning, almost a week since she’d made her
decision. She’d put off what she had to do long enough. Swallowing
hard, Julie approached Dade’s office.

“I need to talk to you.”

Dade glanced up unsuspectingly from the pile of work on his desk.
“Sure. What’s up?”

Julie swallowed hard. She couldn’t get through this standing up.
Her legs already wanted to buckle. Instead of grabbing her usual seat
beside his desk, she sat down gingerly in one of the client chairs in
front of the desk. Already she felt like an outsider.

How to begin? How to tell her dear friend that the dream they’d
shared for so long wasn’t hers anymore? They’d grown up in
poverty. When they were school children and she’d tried to escape
her life by writing fantasies of something better, he’d convinced
her to ignore her make believe world and follow a tangible plan to
escape the littered sidewalks and decaying buildings around her.

She’d been desperate for a better life. Dade seemed to know the
answer. What he’d suggested had made sense to her then. She
couldn’t kid herself any longer. Financial security was fine, but
right now she needed more.

“It can’t be that bad. What gives?”

“I hate to do this to you, but I have to.”

“Do what?”

Julie bit her lip. Once she divulged her secret, everything would be
different. Clearing her throat, she stalled. This was harder than
she’d imagined. Gathering up her courage, she said in almost a
whisper, “I have to leave the firm.”

It was done. She’d finally said what she’d rehearsed a million
times in her mind.

He lifted his eyebrows. “You’re what? Why would you do that?”

“Dade, I’m sorry, but I can’t take this anymore.”

“Aren’t we making enough money?”

“Of course we are. It’s not that.”

He shook his head slowly. “All of a sudden this isn’t enough?”

Before she could reply, he laid his palms on the desk and leaned
forward. “It’s the mystery writer, isn’t it? A guy you’ve
seen only twice has convinced you to pitch everything you’ve worked
for. Damn it, Julie, I thought you had more sense.”

She stuck her chin up. “He’s not the reason. You know I’ve
always wanted to write ever since we were kids. I’ve set some money
aside, so now I can.”

“Sure, tell yourself that.”

Julie gritted her teeth. “It’s the truth. I’m doing this for
myself. And I won’t leave you in the lurch. I can stay for six
months, if you need me.”

He shook his head again. “You do a bang-up job. You’ve got a
great reputation. Clients always ask for you. Can’t you write in
your spare time?”

“What spare time? I’m tired of being torn between what I want and
what I have to do and not doing justice to either one of them. I’ve
made up my mind. Writing’s my choice.”

“You’re crazy. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Because I want something different than you, that makes me crazy?”
”

“It’s a dumb move, Julie. I thought you were smarter.”

“So now I’m stupid. You’re welcome to your opinion.”

Her insides felt raw and bleeding as if she’d swallowed a huge
chunk of glass. She’d hurt Dade, but he’d hurt her too. She
turned and rushed from his office before he could see how upset she
was.

Julie got as far as the hallway before the tears fell. How could he
have said those things? He was supposed to be her friend.

It was always the money with him. He’d never rise above his
beginnings. He’d always be the kid who didn’t have enough.

Well, she’d followed him before, but not anymore. Now it was her
turn.

Chapter Five

Dade frowned. Ever since his birthday when he’d read the autograph
on his gift, he’d felt edgy. Julie’s announcement this morning
topped it all off.

She wouldn’t listen to reason and he couldn’t figure it out. He
thought she had more sense. If he could, he’d cancel the plans for
tonight, but they had someone else to consider besides themselves.

He dialed out. “We’re ready, if you are.”

“Okay,” Todd, his buddy from DePaul Law School, answered.

The underlying note of desperation in his friend’s voice tore at
Dade’s heart. Somehow he had to lighten Todd’s load. “Okay,
dude, let’s roll. No overtime tonight.”

“You didn’t say where we’re going.”

“Dino’s, you know, on Clark Street.”

Todd laughed. “That’s a good one. If you don’t mind, I’d
rather not wait all night to eat. Now, where are we really going?”

“I told you. Dino’s. No problem, I promise. Meet you there at
five-thirty.”

* * *

“Ready, Julie,” Dade asked.

“One second. I’m making a CD of my argument,” she said, not
glancing up from her monitor.

“That’s not necessary. Nora’s doing the backups tonight.”

“I know, but I bring my own copies home just in case. I’m almost
done.”

Damn, she could be stubborn.

“All set,” she said, exiting the program and turning off her
computer.

As she reached for her suit coat from the hanger in back of the door,
the material of her silk blouse stretched and tightened around her
breasts. Dade’s pants tightened in a certain area.
Forget her,
you horny bastard
.

“Meet you by the elevator. I need a word with Nora,” he said,
fleeing the torment.

His faithful assistant glanced up from behind her computer, making
him feel guilty about leaving her alone while he and Julie went out
to dinner.

“Nora, if you want, you can take care of the backups Monday
instead.”

“No, really, I don’t mind. Mondays are busy anyway.”

“Be sure to leave the office as soon as you get through. Okay?”

She nodded.

“Good night then, Nora. Have a good weekend.”

“You too, Mr. Donovan.”

Satisfied he’d done his best to be a good boss, Dade caught up with
Julie down the hall.

* * *

Biting her lip, Nora set about making the backups. She didn’t mind
doing the extras for Dade. Actually, she enjoyed showcasing her
talents. It was only a matter of time before he realized she was so
indispensable he couldn’t live without her.

A squeak came from the direction of the front door. Had he come back
to invite her to come with? No, that wouldn’t happen. Ms. High and
Mighty Julie wouldn’t allow it.

Then who could it be?

She looked up and couldn’t believe her eyes. Here was an even
better catch than Dade. Did she look all right? If only she could
peek inside her compact mirror to check.

“May I come in?” he said in a voice loud enough to penetrate the
wooden door between them.

“It won’t do you much good. I’m the only one here.” She’d
never admit such a thing to a stranger, but this was no ordinary man.

“Just a few minutes. That’s all I ask.”

Strange. Why would he want to come inside?

“Please, what’s the harm? I’ll dictate a short note and be on
my way.”

What was she afraid of? Someone like him didn’t need to commit
burglaries and certainly not rapes.

“Okay. It’s getting late, so make it fast.”

She pressed the buzzer to admit him. He followed her into the
reception area where she switched on the computer she’d turned off
moments before.

“You have lovely hair,” he said from behind her.

A rush of pleasure filled her. At least someone appreciated her. She
wouldn’t let on how flattered she was. Without turning, she said,
“Shall we get down to business? What would you like typed on your
note?”

She heard a jangle, as if he were rummaging in his pocket.