Wrangling with the Laywer (18 page)

He exhaled involuntarily, feeling like he’d been hit in the gut.

“Honey, are you okay?”

He turned; Karen was leaning against the doorframe, elegantly poised. The setting evening sun highlighted her perfect bone structure. He couldn’t see her eyes, her hand covering them as shade.

“Are you coming inside? We need to get ready.”

“Sure.” He approached the door. When she didn’t move, he realised she was waiting for some kind of display of affection from him. He touched her slim waist gently, leaning down to kiss her.

She smiled, pleased. “I’m doing well, right? The perfect hostess.” She tossed her hips playfully. “The perfect wife.”

He laughed at this, amused by her eagerness. He remembered again how he’d once thought of Harper as perfect wife material. He wasn’t sure what that meant anymore. “Perfect,” he told Karen easily. He slid past her.

At half past seven, Gabe stood in his dining room looking down at the dusky view.
Karen was directing last minute flower placements around the apartment. He could hear Helga’s booming voice bullying the caterers in the kitchen. Frida had just this second brought Alice through to say goodnight, before taking her to bed. He could scarcely believe this was his life. He felt for a moment like he was standing in another man’s shoes. Everything worked around him as it if were on an automated factory line. He felt a rash of alarm under the skin on his brow; he touched it, wondering if he could possibly be sweating under the silken air-conditioning. It was dry, but the prickly heat underneath hadn’t passed. He experienced a horribly familiar sense of claustrophobia.

This was life exactly as he wanted it, right? Controlled, organised.

The guests started arriving, curtailing any real consideration into that question. Moving into host mode, he greeted the first two couples to arrive, holding court for five minutes or so as he regaled them with stories of his latest case. Once the ice was broken, he welcomed another couple, coming back and moving into Karen’s outstretched arm. They stood together, like the perfect couple, he supposed, listening to the chatter. Gabe felt his mind wandering; he realised he’d probably broken the ice with a fairly insignificant story so he couldn’t blame his guests for continuing in the same vein. He found his eyes focusing on people’s features instead of seeing their faces; he noticed that the man standing next to him had the puckered, red skin of someone who liked to drink. His wife had a nervous laugh, and she kept touching scar on her neck as though conscious of it. He noticed Karen’s lipstick looked orange under the lights and didn’t match her pink dress. He wondered if it was supposed to be like this.

When the doorbell rang again, he strolled out to the foyer. He caught his appearance in the mirror, surprised to see how sharp and defined he seemed in his black-tie. He looked precisely like a successful man holding an upscale dinner party. He wasn’t sure why this surprised him, until he met the reflection of his own eyes and felt the flatness in them.

Turning away sharply, he took a deep breath and opened the door.

Don’s expectant expression met him at eye-level. “Hey, Gabe.”

“Don?” The words had no sooner left his mouth, with amused surprise, before Gabe’s eyes dropped to see Harper standing next to him.

Jealousy ripped through him, sparking his eyes back to life.

Chapter Ten

“You’re here with Don?”

It was noisy in the dining room. The champagne had been flowing for some time, even now long after desert. Gabe was in the kitchen, finally alone with her. She was searching for a glass. Taking one down from a cupboard she couldn’t reach, he handed in to her.

She took the glass. “Yes.
Obviously I’m here with Don.”

He watched her swallow a couple of painkillers.

“I think the champagne was too much,” she explained uselessly. “Sometimes alcohol doesn’t suit me.”

Her dress suited her. She looked ethereal in the shapeless black silk shift, loosely held at her waist with a leather belt. Her hair and her skin gleamed under the dim lights.

“Go back in. I’m fine” She took another sip of water, looking up at him with a frown when he stayed put. “I’m serious. I’ll be through in a minute.”

“Are you dating him?”

Her expression settled into amusement, though he didn’t feel much humour in her eyes. “Are you cross-examining me?”

His gut was tight
with tension. “He’s your lawyer.”

“You were my lawyer, too.”

Gabe laughed. “I was your lawyers’ lawyer. Ethically-”

“You’re really going to stand there and explain to me about ethics?” Her tone was incredulous.

He felt his emotions harden. He could feel the conversation escalating too quickly, but he couldn’t stop himself from taking the bait. “I’m not talking about personal ethics. I’m talking about law board ethics. He could get into a lot of trouble for this. It could jeopardise the case-”

“Yes, well, you should probably bring that up with him.”

“I will.”

“Fine.” She put the glass down. “You should probably do it soon, then. We’re leaving in a few minutes.”

Sensing she was about to flee, he went in for the kill. “I doubt he’ll be particularly pleased to hear we’ve slept together.” He felt a vaguely malicious stirring low in his stomach. “If you’re not careful you’ll start to get a reputation around the courts.”

“You’re a sexist pig.”

“I’m just giving you the facts.” Dark satisfaction smouldered, and singed the edge off of his conscience. “Don’s not as discreet as I am. People talk. If word gets out that he’s emotionally involved-”

“He’s not emotionally involved.” Her eyes were flat on him. She smiled, her expression hard. “You know what I mean. It doesn’t count if you only do it once.”

“As I said, I wasn’t your lawyer.”

“You weren’t my anything.”

She moved to slip past him. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to touch her arm. He didn’t hold it, or prevent her from leaving; he simply clasped his fingers loosely around her wrist. As he looked down into her upturned face, he felt like it was his willpower keeping her in place. She wasn’t going anywhere. She seemed rendered immobile. He wasn’t anything to her? He went over the statement in his head again and again. Something alive and constricting coiled in his chest, making his breath shallow. He felt a familiar inevitability descend, anger and something else, something much more painful and difficult to analyse.

His thumb grazed the inside of her wrist. He felt an answering shudder, and her skin broke into tiny bumps. He felt a strain between his legs. If he wasn’t anything to her, why was she standing here waiting for him to
decide on the next move?

She swayed in her heels. The counter was just centimetres behind her, and she came to a halt with her back resting against it.

“What do you want?”

He moved his eyes down to her mouth hungrily. “I don’t know.”

“Then come back to me when you do.” She pulled her hand from his grasp easily. Pushing past him, he felt the pressure of her breasts and her hips under the silk dress grazing across his suit. A dizzy wave of arousal gripped him. He leaned his hands on the counter where she’d been less than a second ago. Her scent lingered in the disturbed air.  He could taste her.

He looked up, just catching the tail end of her dress and her leg as she re-entered the dining room. Frustration rang through his body like a church bell.

Harper
kept her head low in the months following. The case was heating up, taking up more of her time. Finn started guitar and kick-boxing lessons, and so she spent a lot of her free time playing chauffeur. Trying to keep her head above water financially was becoming a challenge. Cross Screens had been announced but still hadn’t been released due to the remaining paperwork to be tied up after the patent dispute, a process that wouldn’t be rushed. The legal fees alone were crippling her, never mind the mortgage and the school fees and the car payments. She could scarcely believe she’d been listed only five or six years ago as one of the city’s most successful women under thirty. She was on her way to becoming one of the city’s most miserable women under forty, a much less salubrious title.

“Come on, Finn!” Grabbing her car keys early one morning in late autumn, she stared at the mute television screen above her fireplace while she was waiting. Her heart did a small somersault in her chest when she saw
Joe Davidson’s smirking profile featured in the top right corner of the screen. Her eyes dropped to the ticker tape running below the newscaster’s animated headshot. “Finn! We’re going to be-” The words died in her throat.

After a paralysing second, she grappled on the table for the remote control. Her fingers slid awkwardly over the buttons as she searched for the volume. It seemed to take forever before the newscaster’s voice became audible.

“...Department of Justice and SEC calls to investigate Joe Davidson’s Nemei Corporation for alleged violations of U.S. law under the Corrupt Practices Act have been accepted by the Attorney General in a surprise overturning of a previous, closed ruling.  Gabriel Stahl, a lawyer representing US democrat Ed Forester, today called the closed ruling ‘a reprehensible collusion of state and corporate business to defraud private business all across this country’.”

Harper
could feel herself standing open-mouthed with shock, the remote control still held limply in her extended hand, but she couldn’t move.

“Mr
Stahl,” the newscaster continued matter-of-factly, as though this wasn’t about to turn Harper’s life upside down, “a prominent New York attorney at the centre of the storm, is believed to have been campaigning against Davidson’s business practices for some months now at a top level within certain governmental  lobby groups. This is a surprise turn for Davidson, who’s been involved in a number of high profile cases of late defending his corporation. The most recent of those, and the most well-known, is still being fought by Cross Screen creator Harper Green on behalf of both her development studio and twenty-three other complainants. It’s not clear what the impact will be on those cases, but it’s been noted in the press today that Mr Davidson may have finally met his match as the government turns its attention to what some believe is a much delayed dispensation of justice.” The newscaster turned a paper on his desk. “In other news-”

Harper
hit the mute button.

Her heart was thudding against her chest, her hands shaking. It took her a second to realise that it was joy building up like a pressure cooker in her body. It wasn’t a familiar feeling. She turned, seeing Finn watching her wide-eyed from the doorway. He had his coat half-on and half-off, his shoelaces undone. She felt a smile itching at her mouth.

“What is it?” he breathed.

In a split second she was over at the door, picking him up and twirling him around in her arms. A cry of sheer abandonment left her carried on a bubbling wave of laughter. Finn, obviously lost, started laughing as well, carried away by the moment.

As she entered the law firm’s plush, busy corridors an hour later, she could see
Don standing in his conference room watching the news on a large screen. Unable to bite back her excitement, she had to hide her laughter under her breath, feeling like a crazed woman. There was a crowd gathering around the television, as partners and associates alike arrived to watch the latest developments. When Harper entered the room, Don looked up sharply. He practically ran across to her, picking her up in his arms and spinning her exactly the way she’d done with Finn just an hour earlier.

“Have they actually charged him?” she asked breathlessly, still shaking when he put her down.

“They just arrested him.” Don couldn’t keep his delight in check. He spoke the next words slowly for emphasis. “They just finished ransacking his offices on Wall Street. I got a call from Judge Moore to say the case has been put on hold until all of this is clarified.”

She had to cover her mouth with both hands in restraint. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or cry. She felt completely undone. Her blood sugar seemed to have plummeted; she wondered for a second if she might actually pass out. Nearly six years her life had been eaten up fighting to defend her livelihood against Nemei Corporation, while the government turned a blind eye to what was happening. She couldn’t believe there was even a remote chance this was all about to end. She couldn’t believe there was a remote chance she was about to get her life back. She couldn’t even begin to describe what it meant. She could only stare at
Don over the tops of her hands, mute with disbelief.

He took pity on her, wrapping her in an amused hug. “Don’t have a meltdown yet,” he murmured in her ear. Leaning back, he took in her expression cautiously. “We got a request for you this morning from Gabe’s office. He wants to see us.”

She swallowed back her emotion. “Now?”

“In ten minutes. We can walk there, get some air.”

She brushed her hair back, frowning furiously to dispel any lingering unprofessionalism. “Is it just you and me?”

“
Just you and me, and Gabe.”

Gabe was working
when they arrived. She saw him from a distance though the glass partitions as they began the approach to the office. He was frowning over his laptop. After a couple of seconds, he looked up, as if sensing their approach. His eyes skittered off Harper, and instead locked on to Don. The two men looked as jovial as ever as they greeted each other. It struck Harper as a little unfair how Gabe had dragged her over the coals over her supposed dalliance with his college buddy; clearly he’d never broached the subject with Don as promised. She’d never slept with Don and had no interest in doing so, but it pained her to know that Gabe presumed she would. It pained her that he clearly no longer cared.