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Enticing the Enemy

Page 2

by Jules Court


  “I’ll call your office later,” Cruz said to Mike. He then, unsettlingly, looked directly at her, as though stripping off her layers. “Counselor,” he simply said, and strode away.

  “Let’s go over to my office,” Mike said, bringing her attention back to where it belonged. She needed to forget about Cruz.

  She had to do a little skip-run to avoid trailing Mike like a puppy dog to his office. Her short legs and high heels prevented her from matching his stride, which he knew. Just another reindeer game that lawyers liked to play with each other.

  Thirty minutes later, she emerged from Mike’s office with the best offer she could pry out of him. Taking that offer back to Edward proved to be another exercise in humiliation. Mysteriously, Edward had developed selective amnesia, solely affecting the memory of her advising him not to push for a trial in the first place, but to accept the plea bargain instead. Which had been a much better deal than the one she was currently presenting.

  It was after five o’clock by the time she finally returned to her office. She trudged through the hallway of Blackstone, Wyatt & Winters with one desire—prying off her shoes once safely ensconced behind her desk. She rounded the corner and almost turned heel at what she saw: Smarmy Scotty heading her way, all gelled hair and gleaming white teeth. He stopped in front of her office door, obviously waiting for her.

  She gritted her teeth and forced a smile. “Something I can help you with?” she asked upon reaching her door.

  An aura of self-satisfaction practically oozed from him along with the smell of his expensive cologne. He’d once bragged to her that it cost one hundred and eighty dollars a bottle. She’d pretended to be impressed. Back then she’d pretended to be impressed by a lot of things.

  “Heard you had a bad time in court today.” He clucked his tongue in a faux concerned manner. “Too bad.”

  The smile hurt her face. “Can’t win them all. I’ve still got a lot of work to do.” She put her hand on the doorknob pointedly but she didn’t open it. That could be construed as an invitation and she didn’t want him in her space.

  But Smarmy Scotty didn’t get subtlety. He leaned against the wall. “So, we met with Greyson today.”

  “I thought we were meeting on Monday.” Greyson was a major client and she’d been promised lead on his case. It was the kind of break she’d been waiting for. That sort of exposure put you on partner track. She’d been focusing too much on her pro bono cases lately. Representing street kids and single moms didn’t exactly make it rain for the partners.

  “He wanted to reschedule and turned out this afternoon was the only time that worked for him. And since you weren’t around...” He gave a c’est la vie shrug.

  “Don’t tell me. You just happened to be available.”

  “Calm down,” Scotty said even though she hadn’t been yelling. “You’re still on the case. I’m going to need your help with research and some of the drafting.”

  The grunt work. She was going to be behind the scenes doing the heavy lifting and, as lead, Scotty would waltz in and reap the rewards if things went well. And if they didn’t, well, there was always Erin to take the fall.

  She pushed her office door open, turning her back on Scotty. But he wasn’t content letting her retreat into her den to lick her wounds without inflicting a parting shot. “I’m going to need a memo on misappropriation on my desk tomorrow.”

  She shut the door in his face. Alone at last. She eased herself into her chair and kicked off her shoes with a sigh. But she’d no sooner sat in her chair than her office phone rang. She took a moment to steel herself before answering in her professional voice. She shouldn’t have bothered.

  “You’re alive,” her mother said by way of a greeting. “I hadn’t heard from you, so I thought you must be dead in a ditch somewhere.”

  “Hi, Mom. What do you want?” she asked, even though she knew the answer. Money for rent, for car repairs, for bail and court fines—it didn’t matter what for, the answer was always to call Erin.

  “Maybe I just want to talk to my daughter. Why do you have to be so mean all the time?”

  “Sorry, Mom. Bad day.” She pulled the elastic from her hair, releasing the bun contributing to her headache. Maybe her mother really was just calling to talk to her.

  “Don’t you want to know how your niece did in her pageant? She took third place, but she could have won if we’d just had the right coach.”

  “Mom, you know how I feel about these pageants.” Emma was only six. No six-year-old should be subjected to spray tans and wearing a flipper. But Erin’s sister Brigid loved to parade Emma around for attention. It didn’t help that their mother was possibly even more enthusiastic about pageants than Brigid was. Between the two, Erin had almost given up fighting. After all, her mother had never listened when Erin didn’t want to do them. It had taken her mother threatening one of the judges with Erin’s baton to get Erin kicked off the child pageant circuit.

  “We found a really good coach, but Brigid’s hours just got reduced at the Stop & Shop because the manager’s wife was jealous of her. Other women can be so nasty when you’re as pretty as Brigid is. Like I was. You’re lucky you don’t have to deal with that. Anyway, I’ve got something in the works, but it will be a little while before the money starts coming in so I can’t pay for the coach right now.”

  And there it was, the reason for the call. “You want money,” she said flatly. It was stupid to have thought any differently, even if it had been for only a second.

  “Just a little loan. It’s for Emma’s future.” It was the same wheedling tone she’d used when she’d asked Erin to cosign a car loan for her, which she’d subsequently defaulted on.

  “How about starting a college fund then? You know, if it’s for her future.”

  “Why do you always have to be like this? Honestly, Erin. You act like you’re so much better than us with your college and your fancy law degree. Don’t forget who was there for you. When your no-good sperm donor ran off, I was there. I wiped your ass. I took care of you, you ungrateful bitch.”

  True, if taking care of Erin meant leaving her with some SpaghettiOs and a can opener while her mom was out banging her latest boyfriend, Erin reminded herself. “I’m hanging up.”

  Her mother’s tone changed in a heartbeat. “Don’t be like that, baby. I didn’t mean it. I just love you so much and it hurts that you think so badly of me and your family. We’re all you have.”

  Her hand clenched around the phone receiver. “I’ve got to go, Mom.”

  “Baby, it’s just eight hundred dollars. That’s nothing to you with your job.”

  “Bye, Mom.” She hung up the phone, took a deep breath and shoved the guilt down. She didn’t have to be her mother and little sister’s ATM.

  The fact that her mommy didn’t love her and her daddy never wanted her was no excuse to sit around feeling sorry for herself. It wasn’t like it was some new revelation and she had work to do. She looked at the files stacked up on her desk and rubbed her aching head.

  Screw it. She needed tacos. She coiled her hair back up into a bun and jammed her sore feet into her shoes.

  Chapter Two

  Detective Daniel Cruz was trying to blow off dinner with his partner, Brian MacGregor, and Priya, Brian’s girlfriend, but Brian wasn’t having it. Danny been in a bad mood from the moment he’d been jolted awake by a backfiring car at 4:30 am, causing him to spring upright, shaking and sweating. By the time he’d realized it wasn’t a gunshot, that he was safe in his own bed, not undercover with the Latin Kings, wondering if this was the moment his deception would be discovered followed by a bullet punching through the back of his skull, it was too late. He was already wide awake in the predawn darkness. But he lay there until five o’clock anyway because habit was important. Habit was what anchored him to this life.

  At
five he rose and went for his morning jog by the Charles River, where he exchanged nods with the other regulars. When he returned he made himself oatmeal and checked the morning headlines and sport scores while he ate. On his walk to work, he stopped for a mocha, which the barista began making the moment he entered the coffee shop. But even all that normality wasn’t enough to shake his grim mood.

  Being harangued on the stand by Erin Rafferty had been the cherry on this shit sundae of a day. She was a pit bull disguised as one of those little purse dogs. Those big blue eyes, that tiny little upturned nose, the cupid bow’s mouth—all lies. There wasn’t a damn thing cute about that woman. Or the way she’d tried to paint him as a liar in the courtroom.

  He knew there were rumors about why he’d left New York. A police station hosted more gossip sessions than a neighborhood barber shop. She’d merely put into words what everyone else was probably saying behind his back. He must have been a dirty cop. No one could have rolled in the mud like he had and come out clean.

  But Erin acted like she’d known more than idle rumors.

  “C’mon, dude,” Brian was saying. “I told Priya you were coming. We’re going to that Mexican place on Boylston. It’s maybe three blocks from your apartment.”

  Warning bells began ringing. Brian was a little too anxious for him to come. But he kept silent because he didn’t need to ask why. Brian would just keep on talking and eventually he’d blurt it out. It didn’t take long.

  “Okay, okay,” Brian said, holding his hands up in surrender. “Priya’s bringing a friend.”

  “A setup? What the hell, Mac?”

  Fucking wonderful. He so wasn’t in the mood for a blind date. Besides, who did that anymore? Didn’t people just swipe each other on the internet or something these days? He was only thirty-five but felt like he should be shaking his cane at kids on skateboards already. Fuck, he was old and tired.

  “It’s just a bunch of people having dinner, not a setup. Okay, maybe it’s a setup, but no pressure—”

  If he didn’t cut Brian off he’d talk for days. “Why is Priya trying to set me up with her friend?” He took a deep breath and reminded himself that he liked Priya.

  Brian’s expression turned serious. “It’s not really about you. Priya always took care of Sara. Now that Sara’s not around for Priya to worry about, I think she’s displacing all the pent-up meddling.”

  Sara was Priya’s cousin and the catalyst for Brian and Priya’s relationship. Priya had met Brian when she was trying to get Sara out of trouble. Apparently, bailing her cousin out of trouble was something she’d done her whole life. Sara had left Boston as part of a witness protection deal Erin Rafferty worked out in exchange for Sara’s testimony in a gang related shooting. So, in a way, Sara had also been responsible for bringing Erin into Danny’s life.

  Not that Erin was in his life. No saying when, or if, they’d even cross paths again. Although, Erin was friends with Priya.

  “Who’s the friend?” he asked in an attempt to steer his thoughts away from the Erin Rafferty whirlpool.

  “A nurse Priya works with. Her name’s Elizabeth.”

  At least Priya wasn’t trying to set him up with Erin, which was a crazy thought to even have. Everyone knew defense attorneys and cops were like cats and dogs, so Priya wouldn’t even attempt it. Besides, Erin might not even be single. He hadn’t ever noticed a ring, not that he’d been looking for one.

  “Elizabeth’s cute. You’ll like her,” Brian was saying. “Besides, what else are you going to do tonight? Go home and organize your sock drawer? And, yeah, that’s code.”

  Guys who got laid regularly were smug. Danny gave Brian a rude hand gesture, causing him to burst out in laughter.

  From across the squad room, Detective Nelson launched a rubber band at Brian’s head. “Shut up, you fucking hyena.”

  As the squad room devolved into cheap insults, with the rest of the guys chiming in, Danny stayed silent and apart. He wasn’t one of them. He knew what it took to ingratiate himself with a group. He’d done it before. You take part in their rituals, you laugh at the jokes. Didn’t matter if it was the Boston PD or the Latin Kings. And that was how piece by piece you were consumed until nothing authentic remained.

  * * *

  Fifteen minutes into dinner and Danny knew he’d made a terrible mistake by not taking his grumpy ass home. He poked his food in mild disgust. He should have known the moment Priya ordered the tofu option that he was going to get some white guy burrito. No self-respecting genuine taqueria served soy. If you wanted a vegetarian option, you ordered a bean burrito like God intended.

  Elizabeth put down her fork and gave him a bright smile. “So, are you from Boston?” she asked.

  “No.”

  She waited for him to elaborate, but he let the silence hang.

  She tried again. “So, where are you from?”

  “New York.” His hand tightened on the bottle of Tapatío. He forcibly relaxed it and shook the hot sauce liberally over his bland burrito. How had Erin known to go straight for New York in the courtroom?

  Elizabeth’s smile appeared more strained, but she kept it fixed on her face. “What made you decide to move here? Family?”

  No family here, no family at all anymore. He hadn’t even known when his abuela passed away. Not that he could have been there if he had known. He’d been far too deep undercover. “Moved here for the job,” he said.

  He was being a dick and, judging by the forced smile on her face, she’d agree with his self-assessment. The problem was he didn’t care. Not about his bland burrito, her forced cheerfulness, Brian choking back a laugh and reaching for his water glass, or even the murderous glint in Priya’s eyes telling him she was going to drag his ass after her friend left.

  Elizabeth seemed like a very nice person. She was a nurse, so she had to be compassionate. She’d mentioned she had custody of her little sister since their parents had passed away, so she was responsible and family oriented. All those added up to nearly sickeningly nice. Too bad he wasn’t interested in nice. And if nice had any sense it’d run the hell away from him.

  The front door opened, bringing in a blast of chilly November air along with someone he really didn’t want to see—Erin Rafferty. She must be a demon he’d accidentally conjured by thinking her name earlier.

  To the casual observer she didn’t look like a hell beast. They might even think her cute with her tiny frame bundled up in a thick wool coat. The crisp air had turned her pale skin rosy.

  But then she saw him. When their eyes met, hers blazed to life, dispelling any notion one might have that she was some dainty little flower.

  He wondered if she were here to yell at him some more. Perversely, he felt his mouth move into something that felt like a smile. He was itching for a fight and she was just the person to give it to him.

  * * *

  Erin stepped into the warm and brightly lit restaurant, her mouth watering in anticipation of carne asada. Everything was going to be all right because tacos existed and they would help her put this terrible day in the past.

  Her skin prickled with the sensation of being watched. She turned her head and—oh God no, there he was. Once again she locked eyes with Detective Daniel Cruz. Would there be no end to this nightmare of a day?

  He’d removed his tie and undone the top few buttons on his dress shirt, exposing the edge of a tattoo on the right side of his neck. She’d seen glimpses of his tats before. On their first meeting, his sleeves had been rolled up. Even as she demanded that he either release or charge her client, her eyes had been glued to the sight of strong tattooed forearms juxtaposed against a crisp white button-down shirt. There was something so contradictory about it. For just one moment it was as though he might be someone who could understand what it was like to live in two worlds. Her resulting self-disgust had amped up her agg
ression toward him that day.

  He was staring her down across the crowded restaurant and she stared right back. In this game of eyeball chicken, she’d be damned if she’d break first. They probably would have stayed like that all night if it hadn’t been for his table mates. She’d been so focused on him she hadn’t even noticed his companions. But they’d seen her.

  Of course he wasn’t alone. That would have been too easy. Instead, he sat with one of the few people in this town she could call a friend, Priya, who was standing up and waving at her.

  “Erin, come join us!” Priya called out.

  Priya was a smart woman who was dumb enough to fall for a cop. A cop who happened to be Detective Hard Ass’s partner. Although to be fair, Brian didn’t seem as bad as most of them. He was friendly and talkative, maybe too talkative—he and his partner were an odd mix—and completely devoted to Priya. It was the last part that made him bearable.

  Cruz scowled. Up until then, she’d been ready to turn on her heel, and leave, tacos be damned. But there was no way she’d let him think he’d scared her away with his tough guy act. She marched forward.

  She’d almost overlooked the pretty blonde sitting next to Cruz. But as she approached, the realization that she was barging in on a double date dawned on her. Here she came, serially single Erin. Which was exactly how she liked it, she reminded herself.

  When Erin reached the table, Priya greeted her with a quick, unexpected hug. “Don’t freak out,” she said. “I’m experimenting with my soft side. Brian’s family are all huggers and I’m trying to get more comfortable with it.”

  “You’re hugging the wrong person then,” she said. “I’m Irish Catholic. We only hug when we’re drunk.”

  “That we can fix,” Brian said with a broad smile. “Sit down and join us.” He had a puppy dog friendliness to him. When she’d interacted with him before professionally, she’d though that open friendliness was put on, designed to disarm her. But maybe it was real. After all, he’d managed to scale Priya’s castle walls.

 

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