by L. M. Reid
“When I said it’s complicated… that was an understatement.” Daphne is probably the one person I can divulge all this information too without worry, yet it’s still so hard for me. I’m not that guy. I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve. And I sure as hell don’t ask for relationship advice. But, in this case, I need all the help I can get. “We met the first night I got here and the next day I found out that she is dating my father. I don’t know the exact story, but it’s clearly a relationship of convenience.”
“So, you think she’s using him for career advancement?” Daphne asks to clarify.
“Yes and no. I don’t know what it is, but I get the impression there is more to it than that.” I toss back another drink. “Everything was fine until I turned into a jealous dick and said shit that… that even makes me hate myself for saying it.”
“And now?”
“And now, we’re done. She needs to be with him for whatever reason and me… I need to take him down and get back to my life. Or whatever is left of it that I haven’t destroyed.”
We both know I am referring to Reagan, but neither of us elaborate on my statement.
“So, you’re not going to fight for her?”
“I can’t win this fight.”
“You don’t know that,” she presses.
But I do. There is a reason that Ashlynn is with my father. Whatever it is it would take a miracle to get her to trust me enough to tell me, let alone let me help her get out of it. She’s far too distrusting and too independent for any of that.
“I called you here to distract me, not to fix me,” I say to Daphne. Her eyes widen at my words, words that sound more like a booty call then a man who needs a friend. “Not like that.”
“Thank God. You know I would do anything for you Gray, but not that.”
“It wasn’t that long ago that…”
She slaps my arm at my reminder of the night we met, our flirting, and the few kisses we shared. Daphne is an amazing woman, but she’s not the one for me. Now, having experienced Ashlynn, I don’t even think Reagan was. No woman has ever made me feel the way Ashlynn does.
“I don’t do lost causes, you know that. And with this Ashlynn in the picture – that’s exactly what you would be. You can’t fool me Grayson West, I know you. You’ve got a thing for her, might I even venture to say you…”
I shoot her a glare. It’s a warning. Once that she apparently receives loud and clear because she snaps her mouth shut. I’ve only known the woman a couple weeks. The words Daphne was about to speak aren’t possible. Are they?
“What about you?” I ask. I called her here to distract me. Not so I could sound like a pussy and pour my heart out to her. “Anything fun going on?”
“Yes, but it’s too soon to mention.”
I call the bartender over and order us another round.
“Nope, that’s not going to fly with me. Spill it.”
She gets a smile on her face, one that I haven’t seen before. One that tells me whoever this guy is, she likes him, a lot.
“His name is Ethan…”
16
Grayson
My head is pounding when I wake up. I did a great job with the drinking part. Not so much on the forgetting about Ashlynn front. Sitting up in the bed, I grab my phone. The message on the screen is from Ashlynn. It says to meet her at nine in the Cahill library. Considering the clock is showing that is only ten minutes away, I opt to call her to reschedule.
“This is Ashlynn,” her voice says into the phone. The pleasant tone I can only assume means she didn’t check her caller id before she answered.
“It’s Grayson,” I reply.
“Oh, hey.”
The tone of her voice changes and now I’m wondering if it’s because she’s with my father or if it’s because she still hates me. Either way, I’m thankful for the hangover and Daphne passed out in the guest bedroom so I can delay our meeting. I need time to recoup, to be able to think straight, and to make sure I restrain myself from anything inappropriate with her.
“I just woke up and saw your message. There is no way I can make it by nine. Could we meet at noon?” I ask.
“Yeah, sure. Is everything okay?” Another shift in her voice – concern.
“Everything’s fine, just a…” I pause. “Just drank a little bit too much.”
“Grayson, can we…”
“Hey Gray,” Daphne’s voice calls out as she walks into my room.
I hear the hitch of breath on the other end of the phone and know that Ashlynn heard Daphne and based on the halt of her words and the continued silence, she’s assuming things that aren’t true.
For whatever reason, I feel the need to explain, though I shouldn’t because well, we’re not together. But you want to be idiot, I remind myself. Letting her assume that she’s that easily disposable to me, that is not what I want. In fact, I want her to feel the exact opposite of that.
“It’s not… she’s not… Nothing happened.”
“I’ll see you at noon,” she replies before disconnecting the call.
Daphne’s hand is on her mouth, an apology escaping between her fingers.
I shouldn’t give a damn. Hell, I should even be thankful. Ashlynn and I can’t be together, so her assuming the worst, might be just what I need to help keep things professional. Besides, who is she to judge? She just came back from some romantic getaway with my father.
As pissed as I want to be about all this, as much as everything should make me want to run the other way – it doesn’t. It has me on my feet rushing to explain things to her and make it right.
***
I walk into the library with two coffees in hand. Ashlynn’s already there when I arrive despite my being early.
I extend the coffee that I had made just the way she likes it, “Peace offering.”
She hesitates but takes it from me before turning away and burying herself back in the law journal.
“You’re going to have to talk to me at some point. So why don’t we get whatever this is out of the way so we can get to work,” I suggest.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says as she slams the book shut.
“Let’s start with why you’re pissed at me,” I say.
Her head whips in my direction. “Me? You’re the one who stomped out of your office like a child yesterday.”
I chuckle because her recanting of the events is a far stretch from what I recall happened. “I don’t recall any stomping being involved in my leaving.”
“Tell me you weren’t pissed,” she challenges.
“I wasn’t pissed. I was…” I struggle to find the right words. Fuck it, just be honest Gray. None of this matters anyway so may as well just lay the cards out on the table and get back to business. “I was hurt and I needed air.”
Her face softens. The anger that filled it when I first walked in dissipating. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I know.” I lean against the table. “And I didn’t mean to hurt you with the things I said.” I run my fingers through my hair. “Okay, I did, but it was only because I was hurting. It’s not an excuse, just the truth. I’m sorry and I didn’t mean them.”
She moves from her chair and walks to a shelving unit filled with books on contract law, nothing that would help us without case. “Now that we have that settled, we can just get back to work.”
“Might help if you were actually looking at the criminal law journals,” I say.
When she turns around, I’m standing right behind her. “The woman’s voice that you heard,” I begin. “Her name is Daphne, she’s my mother’s doctor.”
“It’s none of my business.”
I place my hands on her arms. “Maybe not. But I need you to know that nothing happened. She came to visit me, we had some drinks, that was it. She slept in the guest room.”
Her eyes gravitate to the floor, guilt written across her face. “I…”
“Don’t. Please don’t. I don’t want to know.�
��
“Nothing happened, Gray. Nothing is happening between me and Elliott.”
Relief washes over me. As relieved as I am to hear her say those words and to know that she hasn’t been with him, I can’t help but wonder why. There’s no way she turned him down, not with her career on the line. That means he wasn’t interested, which makes even less sense. What is he up to? What the hell kind of game is he playing?
I know there’s more to the story, but I also know that she’s not going to tell me what it is. Not yet at least.
“We are obviously attracted to each other and God knows whatever this is between us is wrong on so many levels.” She nods in agreement. I take a deep breath and exhale because the words I am about to say are hard, “Until they aren’t, maybe we could…” I shrug, “Be friends?”
“Friends?” she clarifies.
That is how much I want this woman in my life. I am willing to torture myself to be near her even in a platonic strictly friends’ way if that’s what it takes. I should let her go, but fuck if that wouldn’t be an even worse torture.
I nod begrudgingly.
“Friends,” she repeats. With the blink of an eye, she changes the subject. She nods her head toward the table. “You do good work Grayson.”
As much as I wish she were referring to my bedroom skills, I know she is instead referring to the prelim work I did on the case while she was gone.
“When it comes to this case, I wish I didn’t.”
The more I read up on the guy we’re defending, the more photos I looked at of the victims the more I am certain that this jagoff is guilty and the more I hate myself for being a part of his defense.
“Winning this case, it’s going to be a make or break on becoming partner. If we don’t succeed, neither of us will get it.” She says the words so surely that I almost wish there was a way to convince her that she doesn’t need to become partner at Cahill, that she could accomplish that anywhere.
I’ve seen her work, done my research on her and her cases. She’s a damn good attorney. No, she’s a great attorney. Why my father is even balking at promoting her is beyond me. All it does is make me more suspicious of him and his intentions when it comes to Ashlynn.
I scrub my hand over my face. Sometimes I wonder if it’s all worth it. Then, I think of my mother, and I know it is. She deserves for him to pay for what he’s done to her. And Ashlynn, she deserves to be out from under his thumb.
“Yes, well, setting this psycho free isn’t going to do well for my conscience.”
“You have one?”
“Ha-ha,” I say sarcastically.
Cases like this, defending the guilty, forgetting the innocent, it’s exactly why I refused to come work for my father. I can’t – no, I won’t - defend people that I know are guilty. It’s why I love my firm. I can take what cases I want. It allotted me the ability to give back to those that need it the most. The tough clients I take that need more than an attorney, the ones that sometimes call in the middle of the night because they need someone to talk to. The ones that needed a friend, protection, someone to understand. Those are my people. Sure, maybe they’re not the ones who drive my business and keep it afloat, but they are the reason I do what I do. Not criminals like Ivan Cole. My dad on the other hand, he doesn’t seem to care. To him, it’s just another client, another case, another paycheck.
I shove away the law journal in front of me and scrub my hands over my face frustrated that I am finding more and more damn loopholes and case law that just might actually work to get this guy off.
“Are you okay?” Ashlynn asks.
“I’m fine,” I reply.
“Or, you could tell me the truth,” she suggests. “What is it?”
“How do you do this? How do you defend a man that you know is guilty?”
“That isn’t for me to decide,” she states. While I know what she’s saying is true, everyone has the right to a fair trial, innocent until proven guilty and all that bullshit, it still doesn’t sit well with me. “I’m just here to give him the best defense possible. His guilt will be sorted out by the jury.”
“Do you really believe that?” I ask.
“No, but it’s my job.” She closes the journal she had been looking in. “Listen, you know as well as I do that everyone has the right to a fair trial,” she says with a shrug repeating my thoughts as though she could read my mind. “I am just here to give my clients that.”
“Even when you know they are guilty beyond a doubt?”
“Even then.”
I shake my head, unable to fathom how she does it and uncertain how to handle the fact that I’m doing it; setting one monster free to put another away.
“Why are you doing this?” she asks.
“Because I’m his attorney,” I say confused.
“You clearly don’t want to be. So, I’ll ask again, why are you doing this?”
“I want to be partner.”
“Bullshit,” she says calling me out on my lie. “From what I’ve been able to gather, you’re not a huge fan of your father and you certainly aren’t happy doing criminal defense so why go through all this? What is your end game?”
“If I tell you, I’d have to kill you,” I say trying to diffuse her question and anymore that may come with it.
Her hands on her hips as she stands before me body language demanding answers and making my cock twitch.
The lie I ingrained in myself, just in case anyone ever got suspicious, falls from my lips. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to prove myself to him, earn his respect, his love. I thought that maybe… I thought maybe this would finally do it.” I shrug. “I’m just not sure if earning his respect is worth destroying the families of this guy’s victims.”
“I get it, I do. But you can’t look at it that way. Just look at it as a job and your job is to provide this guy a good defense, no matter what.”
I know everything that she’s saying is right. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.
Taking her advice, I focus on the law – the facts. I put my head back into my book and look for more ways to get this monster free.
My stomach rumbles and I can’t even remember the last time I ate. Between the hunger pains and my frustration with this case, I think I need a break. A long one.
“Are you hungry?” I ask.
She gets a slight smile on her face at the question. “I’m starving.”
“I’ll go grab us something,” I tell her as I head to the door.
“Not so fast,” she says. “I have a better idea. Come with me.”
I do as she says because I’m pretty sure I would follow her anywhere. I hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. The sky is dim, quickly changing from evening to night. No wonder I was so hungry. I haven’t eaten at all today and the amount I drank last night is taking a toll on me.
We end up at a small Mexican Cantina down the street. Aside from the young couple in the corner, we are the only one’s here.
“Can I ask you something?” Ashlynn says as she sits across from me, sipping on her margarita.
“Will I have sex with you again? The answers yes.”
She shakes her head pretending to ignore my comment though I can see the hint of a smile on her lips. “What’s with the last name? Why West?”
“It’s my mother’s maiden name.”
“Okay, but why?”
“Do you want the truth, or my standard answer?”
“The truth,” she replies.
“I’m sure this will come as a shock to you, but I don’t really like my father. I didn’t want to have to be associated with Elliott Cahill any more than necessary,” I tell her. The look of shock on her face is undeniable. “I know, hard to believe anyone could hate the amazing and all-powerful Elliott Cahill,” I say with a somber chuckle.
“No, I get it,” she replies. “We all have issues with our parents in one way or another.” Her mind drifts somewhere for a moment before she shakes her head and continues. “I gathere
d you two didn’t exactly get along. I just didn’t realize it was that bad. If it’s any consolation, he speaks very highly of you. Professionally, at least.”
I damn near choke on the sip of scotch I was taking. “You’re kidding, right? Because if anyone dislikes someone more than I dislike my father – it’s him and how he feels about me.”
“I am not kidding. He’s mentioned what a great attorney you are, how much I could stand to learn from you. That’s pretty high regard when for a long time, that’s what he always said about me,” she tells me.
And there it is. Without even knowing she confirmed what I’ve always suspected – he’s trying to turn her into his little trophy, the way he did my mother. He started by building her up, making sure she knew she was one of his finest attorney’s and now…
Now he’s giving her a winning case that will most certainly not earn her the spot as partner. Because had he actually intended on making her partner, he would have. He wouldn’t make her “earn” it for lack of a better term, because her years at the firm should have done that. No. He’s doing exactly what he did to my mother. He’s playing on her intelligence, her desire to succeed. He’s building her up before her tears her down, the damage to her unrepairable.
“It’s probably best if we talk about something else,” I say.
“No, you went somewhere there. Tell me.”
“I...” Ashlynn raises her eyebrows at me telling me that she’s not giving up. “Ugh, fine. I’m afraid that my father is going to do the same thing to you that he did to my mother.”
“And what’s that?”
“Destroy you. I’m not trying to be a dick here, but I’ve spent my life watching my mother deteriorate little by little. A woman that was once strong and full of life, was stripped of everything: her career, her husband, her sanity. And it’s all because of him. So, when I say it’s best that we talk about something else. It’s really best that we talk about something else.”
“What did he do?” she asks, the look in her eyes filled with fear and concern.
“Nothing specific, that I know of at least. It was just little things, things that I realize now as an adult, that I didn’t quite understand back then. The way he would talk down to her, make her think that she was forgetting stuff that she actually wasn’t. He made her think she was crazy, until she actually was.” I take another sip of my scotch. “It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.”
