by Jewel Geffen
“Client,” Roberta scoffed. “Who do you think you're kidding, Kendall? Is she paying you? Does she have connections of some sort that we're supposed to be able to leverage? I mean, I'm sure she's opening us up to a whole brand new class of clientele. All the pimps and hookers and crack dealers are going to be lining up outside the door. I can hardly wait to get in on it.”
“Jack brought me the case,” she said coldly.
“Yeah, but he never meant for you to take it to trial, Kendall, and you know that.” Roberta smiled nastily, leaning in close and lowering her voice. “Could it be that you have... some other reason for wanting to defend the girl?”
Natalie felt her lip twisting with disdain as she stared back at the woman whom she would once have considered to be a trusted mentor.
Andrew's eyebrows went up. “Oh, come on now, Roberta, you can't just drop a juicy morsel like that and leave me in the dark. I know a tasty office rumor when I hear one.”
Roberta leaned back, grinning triumphantly. “Well, from what I hear, our dear Mrs. Kendall has been getting awfully close with her client's brother.”
“Oh, say it isn't so!” Andrew smirked, affecting a look of shock. “A handsome fellow?”
“By all accounts,” Roberta said, “quite the charmer. A beautiful black man. A rough and ruddy street tough. Quite the urban Romeo, I'm sure.”
“I don't know what you're talking about,” Natalie ground out through her clenched teeth.
“Oh, come on! Everyone knows, darling.” She turned to Andrew, “Joanna, one of the paralegals on the second floor, she saw this one holding hands with our Nubian lover-boy.”
“How very scandalous,” Andrew said, practically bursting with the effort of containing his laughter.
“Isn't it? I guess we know how Kendall here likes it. Big and black and dangerous. Quite the thug...”
Natalie stood up suddenly, trembling with fury. It wouldn't do any good getting in an argument with these two. They were like scavengers just waiting for a chance to pick you over. Any admission that they were getting to her would only make them redouble their assault. Blood in the water, and all that.
She brushed coldly past them. “You're dreaming, Roberta. The two of you shouldn't be lawyers, you should write for a fucking soap opera.”
Andrew laughed. “Oh, touched a nerve, have we?”
Natalie stalked out of the lounge, her chin held eye and her cheeks bright red. She didn't look back once, didn't even breathe until the elevator door had shut. Only then did she slump heavily against the wall and let out a sob of hurt and frustration and embarrassment.
What did she care what they said, what they thought of her? They were no better than grade school bullies, when it came down to it. Cutthroat corporate lawyers with fancy penthouses and tailored suits and dead husks where their hearts used to be, all that.
Just like me.
She shook her head, trying to force the thought from her mind. That wasn't her. Not anymore. She couldn't explain it, but being with Jordan had changed her. Even in the short time they had known one another – God, had it really only been a week or two? – it seemed as if everything had been transformed.
She saw everything differently. She couldn't close her eyes to the world anymore, couldn't just tell herself it wasn't her problem, that nothing was her fault. She'd defended far too many awful people, gotten off too many people she had known to be guilty. She couldn't keep telling herself that it was the system at fault, that she had no responsibility in the matter.
She had to change something. She wasn't sure entirely what, at least not in the long run. She knew, however, that defending Tasha was the first step. The first step towards what, she couldn't yet say.
All she was sure of was that she was in love for the first time in she hardly knew how long, and she wasn't going to give it up.
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. She took a step towards them, meaning to head for her office, but before she could get any further a man's broad shape filled the open space, and she found herself standing nose-to-nose with none other than Jack Schiller.
He was looking right at her. And he didn't look happy. “Miss Kendall,” he said, his voice frosty cold, “what a coincidence. I was just looking for you.”
She swallowed. “What can I, um, what can I do for you?”
He stepped forward, forcing her to take a step back. He jabbed the button for the top floor without so much as glancing at it, and the doors shut behind him. “I'll make this brief,” he said, “and I'll put it in simple terms that you'll be sure to understand.”
That didn't sound good. She swallowed and did her best not to look guilty.
The numbers on the elevator ticked up swiftly, like a countdown in reverse, hurtling her towards her fate.
“I'm not happy,” Jack said, “I don't know what it is you're trying to prove with this shit, but it stops. I will not have this firm associated in a court of law with some low-life drug dealer.”
“But you're the one who-” she started, but he cut her off before she could get out the denial.
“No!” he barked, “No, you know that you were never supposed to take it this far. I didn't realize I was going to have to lead you by the hand on this thing. The girl's guilty. You were supposed to convince her to take a deal, maybe get out in ten years on good behavior. Failing that, you were supposed to fob her off on some other firm. You were not to drag Schiller, Schiller and Mason into the mud by standing up in front of a judge to defend her.”
She opened her mouth, but she didn't say anything. What was the point? It was clear that Jack wasn't in the mood for a debate on the subject.
“I don't know why you're doing this, but it stops. Now. Cut her loose.”
She took a deep breath. “Mr. Schiller, are you ordering me to abandon my client?”
His eyes narrowed. If word got out that they'd ditched one of their charity cases because they didn't want to look bad, it would only end up making them look worse. “Of course not,” he said coolly, “I'm merely suggesting that you consider a more prudent course of action. Of course, that all depends on what sort of future you see for yourself with this firm.”
The elevator dinged again and the doors opened.
Jack stepped out and turned back, straightening his tie. “Go home and think it over.” He leaned in and slapped the button for the subterranean parking garage. “I believe you were going down,” he said.
The doors shut, and she was alone again, falling silently and slowly through the immense building.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Natalie walked through the huge parking garage in a storm of anger and confusion.
In her whole career, a career which had been spent performing mercenary work at the behest of impersonal and, frankly all too often evil corporations, she had never once gotten the kind of push-back she was getting now for having taken on this one simple case.
It felt as if the world had been turned upside down. Why was it easier to do wrong than good? Why were so many obstacles suddenly emerging simply because she had allowed herself, for once, to follow her heart? It just didn't seem right.
She closed her eyes, leaning against a cool concrete pylon, and she thought of Jordan's hands on her. Even now all she could think about was how much she longed for his touch. She would give anything right now to feel his cock inside her again, to feel the weight and strength of his body on top of her, to surrender herself to him.
Everything had been so simple when they had been making love. It was as if, for the first time, everything had made sense. There had been nothing beyond him, only his touch, his passion, his body.
Natalie held herself in the harshly lit darkness of that cavernous underworld, and she clung to the memory of him.
She drew what strength she could from the thought, and she felt everything which she'd just experienced washing away from her. Roberta and Andrew's cruel mocking, Jack's oh-so-thinly veiled threats, it all faded. What did it really mean, in
the long run?
None of it mattered, not when she had love.
But love, she knew, might not last. The hotter it burned, the faster it would eat you alive. She would have to be careful to make sure she still had some solid ground to stand on, if it ever ran out.
She didn't want to think about that, though. She didn't want to think about the future. She wanted the now, and she wanted him.
She was so consumed with thoughts of him that she was hardly aware of her surroundings as she made her way to her car. She'd had her own assigned parking space for three years, and she thought she could make her way to it from the elevators with her eyes shut.
She turned the key in the lock and found that it was already open. Jesus, she was so out of it that she'd forgotten to lock the car doors. She shook her head and got inside.
“Don't speak, now, a'ight?”
She screamed. The strange voice had come from her backseat, making itself known just as she was reaching to turn the key. Her eyes darted up to the mirror and she saw a broad white smile grinning in the shadowed darkness, a glint of gold bright in the grin.
Black hands wrapped around her mouth, jerking her back hard against the headrest, muffling her cry almost as soon as it had passed her lips.
“Don't you move now. I'd hate to have ta hurt ya now, babe, you hear me?”
She forced herself, fighting back every survival instinct desperately rising in her, to remain perfectly still. She sat there, trembling, her eyes wide and her hands shaking.
Warm breath touched her cheek and back of her neck. She could feel the heat of the man as he leaned forward and his lips brushed against her ear. He spoke softly to her, his voice a quiet hiss. “You been busy, counselor, ain't ya? Getting up to all sorts of trouble.”
He clicked his tongue against his teeth and shook his head. She saw the glimmer of metal at his throat, a pendant of a silver skull hanging from his neck. The empty sockets of the little talisman gaped, and its horrid teeth seemed to smile darkly.
“Who are you?” she gasped, her voice trembling.
The man's smile widened. “Names aren't important. You don't know mine, I don't know yours. I just know you're the lawyer decided she was gonna come and stick her nose in business that didn't concern her, know what I'm saying?”
“What are you talking about?”
He chuckled darkly. “You don't fuck with the Death-heads and just walk away from it, counselor. You come at us, we gonna meet you. Consider this a free warning. We'll call it a fuckin' consultation, yeah? That's what you lawyers do, right? Consult?”
“A warning against what?” she asked, struggling to keep herself under control. She wanted to scream again.
“Against poking around where you ain't wanted. I know you and that prick Bishop been asking questions. I suggest you don't.”
“So... what do you want me to do?”
He caressed her cheek, rolling his eyes thoughtfully and tapping his lower lip. She saw his tongue sliding over the surface of his gold tooth. “Just do your job, counselor. Stick to the courtroom. Defend the girl. You'll lose, she'll go to the clink for a few years, you'll go back to your shiny tower and forget all about what you've seen. Easy. Works out for everybody.”
“Except Tasha,” she said, bitterness creeping into her voice.
The man's smile widened. “She'll be alright. It could be a lot worse, you know. I got lots a people inside that wouldn't mind giving Jordan Bishop's sister a little poke, yeah? You feel me?” He laughed again and jabbed his finger into her side, sharp enough to make her straighten and draw in a sharp breath. “I'd hate to have to call in a favor.”
“I haven't done anything,” she said, shifting tactics, “I don't know what you're talking about. I don't want anything to do with your gang.”
“I got some little friends say different. Say they saw you poking around with big bad Bishop. Surprising notion, to say the least. You have any idea what sorta man you're rubbing up against there?”
“What do you mean?”
The gold tooth glinted. “Why not ask him, counselor? See what he says. Might be surprised what you find out. Men like him and me, we got a lotta darkness in our past. Comes with us wherever we go... touches everyone around us...” He caressed her cheek as he spoke, his voice falling to a whisper.
Natalie shivered. She felt a tear spill from her eye and roll down her cheek.
“There there, counselor. No need to get all weepy. You just behave, and you ain't never gonna see me again. Just hope you don't 'cause if you ever do...” He drew his finger across her throat, then tapped his temple and clicked his tongue once more. “Be a fucking shame to cut up a pretty white girl like yourself. Real fucking shame.”
And then, as suddenly as he'd appeared, he vanished. She heard the car door slam shut and she whirled around. He was already gone, vanished into the shadows.
Natalie felt her heart pounding in her chest, her breath coming fast and ragged as she slammed her hand against the door lock and twisted the key. She dug her phone out of her bag as she drove shakily towards the early evening light at the exit of the parking garage and she dialed with trembling fingers.
It rang twice, the sound reverberating horribly in the close confines of the car.
Then, finally, the faint click. “Yeah?”
She let out a gasp of relief at the sound of his voice. “Jordan,” she said, “I need you.”
“What's going on?” he asked, suddenly serious, his focus turning fully to her, “Natalie, what's wrong, how can I help?”
She hit the brakes, gripped the steering wheel, and she burst into tears. She knew, the moment she heard his voice she knew. Somehow, despite everything, it was going to be alright.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Natalie collapsed into Jordan's arms. She just lay there, and she let him hold her.
She was no longer crying, no longer feeling her heart pound with terror, no longer consumed with fear. Now she just felt numb. The drive to Jordan's house had been like a dream, just following the GPS to the address he'd given her in a daze. The moment she'd stepped out of the car he had been there, standing in the narrow strip of scrub grass between the sidewalk and the shabby old house.
She nuzzled close against him, pressing her face to his shoulder, burying herself in his powerful arms. She curled up against him, like a stray kitten climbing into someone's lap. She clung to him, and he embraced her.
“Tell me what's wrong,” he said, and his calm and steady voice was like a balm for her very soul.
“Just give me a minute,” she said, holding him just a little bit closer. She breathed in deep the scent of his skin, and in that moment she allowed herself to set aside everything. None of it mattered in that moment, only him.
“Alright, baby, alright... It's okay.” He bent down a little and kissed to top of her head, “It's okay.” He stroked her auburn hair, brushing it back from her face, drawing his fingers through it. “It's okay.”
He said it and she, against all evidence, believed it. She looked up at him, and she could feel that her eyes were once again beginning to swim with tears. “How do you do that?” she asked, sniffling just a little bit, and laughing slightly.
He brushed a strand of coppery hair from her eyes and brushed his thumb over her cheek. His beautiful dark face was drawn with concern, his deep brown eyes filled with affection. “Do what?”
“Make me feel so safe...”
“You are safe,” he said, “I won't let anything happen to you. You're my girl, baby. I'm not gonna let anybody hurt you. Not ever.”
She stared up at him, her heart fluttering, skipping a beat in her chest. “Am I really?”
“Really what?”
She swallowed. “Your girl?” She could feel a hard lump in her throat. It had been so long since she had allowed herself to feel vulnerable this way, since she had allowed herself to feel... love. It was an intoxicating and overwhelming sensation. She was giddy with it, weak with it, desperate and soaring
.
He smiled, nodding so slightly that she wouldn't have been able to see it if she hadn't been so close, so focused on him. “Yeah,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse with passion, and he leaned in.
Natalie shut her eyes and she surrendered to him. His lips touched hers, and the feeling of it ran through her like electricity, a surging sweeping joy that lit up everything inside her.
He kissed her, tenderly and intensely, a kiss like the sort she'd dreamed of when she was a little girl and had convinced herself in all the years since couldn't possibly actually happen. She'd told herself that kisses like this only happened in fairy tales and movies, they weren't real.
She'd settled, she'd allowed herself to be content with less, and yet that yearning had always been there, buried deep down inside, just waiting to be brought forth. And now, it was unleashed. Now she was his.
She was breathless and trembling when his lips parted from hers, but she needed more. “Don't stop,” she moaned, and she wrapped her hand around his neck and she pulled him back down towards her. He smiled ever so slightly as his lips touched hers once more.
They kissed for a small eternity, and everything else fell away.
Eventually, of course, she had to return to earth. She felt herself coming back down, more than a little reluctantly.
She pressed her cheek against his chest, clinging to him, her eyes shut and her arms wrapped around him. For a long moment he just held her, letting her hold him, and he didn't say anything.
Finally, he spoke. “Tell me what happened.”
It took her some time to get it out. The words didn't come easily. Just talking about it made her feel like she was back in the parking garage, that man's hands closing around her neck. Jordan held her close, caressing her, stroking her hair as if soothing a spooked horse, and eventually she told him all that had happened.
By the time she was done, his countenance was as dark as a storm cloud.
“You know him,” she said. It wasn't a question. She'd seen the flash of recognition when she'd recounted what she could remember of the man's physical appearance.
