Belle nodded, and then turned her attention to her plate once again. Suddenly, she felt tongue-tied and unsure of herself. She cast a furtive glance around the yard, and was relieved when Dare spoke.
“This is a great yard. What is it? An acre?”
“Just under,” she said, glancing around. “It’s a bit overgrown, but I’m hoping to tame it some before my vacation ends. It isn’t as if I don’t have the time,” she muttered under her breath.
He flashed a quick grin. “I understand this is your first vacation in a long time.”
She nodded. It had been years since she’d taken a vacation. She just could never seem to find the time to get away. “It has been a while,” she acknowledged. “If Millicent hadn’t insisted I take my vacation days, I probably wouldn’t have.”
“Why is that?” he asked with interest.
“I hate leaving in the middle of a case.”
“In our line of work, there’s never a good time to get away, but… I tend to think it’s essential to take the time anyway. The work can be too consuming at times.”
Belle nodded, though she didn’t necessarily agree with him about the need to get away from work. Indeed, it could be consuming, but that’s exactly what she liked about it.
“So…” he began, “tell me about yourself.”
She dropped her fork and shook her head uncertainly.
“Go ahead,” he prompted, smiling encouragingly.
“I’d rather discuss the case,” she told him. “Isn’t that why you’re here?”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Part of the reason,” he acknowledged, then took a bite of the steak, seeming to savor the taste while watching her with a sparkle of humor in his eyes.
She watched him right back for a few seconds. What exactly did he have on his mind? she wondered. He simply smiled benignly, much as he had the night he’d viewed the Sweet Sixteen tape along with her and their friends.
Belle turned away, but turned back in time to see him take a gulp of the lemonade and return the glass to the table with a tap. He snared her gaze with twinkling blue eyes. “Belle the Bulldog,” he murmured with a chuckle. “Now there’s a nickname that doesn’t fit—certainly not in the looks department.”
She was taken aback by the remark. She always felt uncomfortable when people discussed her looks. Besides, her nickname, given to her by her former colleagues at Preston and Dunne, had been pinned upon her as a badge of honor—a recognition of her considerable litigating skills. At the time, it was an honor to have been awarded a nickname at all. She had been a very young woman who had excelled in a predominately male workplace, and who had ultimately garnered the respect of her colleagues during a time many of her peers were just finishing up their senior year in their respective colleges.
Belle had been on a fast track to finish high school after her return from her trip with her grandfather. She’d soon enrolled in college, followed by law school. She had passed her bar exam at the tender age of twenty-three. From there she had stepped into a position at her grandfather’s firm and had set about proving she had a right to be there. Her brilliance had shone immediately.
She sighed, suddenly wondering why they were discussing her at all. She endeavored to choose her words carefully when she spoke. “I’m hoping the people who call me ‘Belle the Bulldog’ are referring more to my personality traits than to my…” Her words trailed off.
It seemed arrogant to her to discuss her looks. She knew people often described her as beautiful, but since she knew beauty was simply the luck of the genetic lottery, she put little stock in outward appearance—hers or anyone else’s. “Uh, you wanted to discuss the case,” she reminded him.
“Yes,” he said with a smile, understanding she was changing the subject. “Tell me what you know.”
“Why don’t you tell me what you already know and I’ll fill in the gaps,” she suggested.
She listened while he recounted his knowledge of the case. He had a remarkable grasp of its complexities after only one day on the job. One thing bothered her; he seemed a bit too willing to give the benefit of the doubt to Landlord Jacob Biggs.
“I understand that making the changes to the building you’ve prescribed are costly, and may very well put Biggs out of business,” he noted.
Her eyes widened with surprise. “Had Biggs constructed the building to code in the first place, he wouldn’t be facing costly changes,” she said, attempting to keep her tone even.
“He claims he wasn’t aware substandard pipes had been used. And, a truckload of inspectors signed off on the project at each stage of completion. Why didn’t they make issue of the pipes?” he challenged.
Belle watched him through narrowed eyes. Was he baiting her? Surely he understood that Biggs, who had installed defective pipes in the complex, had done so with full knowledge that the pipes had been recalled by the manufacturer. The fact that crooked inspectors had given him a pass time after time didn’t negate the seriousness of the situation. In fact, Belle intended to go after the unscrupulous inspectors once she’d effectively dealt with Biggs.
“Regarding the inspectors, he was probably greasing their palms. Regarding the pipes, he knew they were substandard prior to construction,” she said. “In fact, the pipes had been recalled, but Biggs purchased them from a shady operator in some back alley deal.”
“How do you know that?”
“I know,” she said, and then took a deep, steadying breath. Her eyes flashed and he noticed.
He raised his hands as if in surrender. “Hey, I don’t mean to offend you, but I do know that there are always two sides to every story…”
“And Biggs’ side is he’s a corrupt slumlord who installed cheap pipes. When the weather turns cold, the pipes will burst. And trust me, it’s cold in those units, since he neglected to insulate the walls.” Her face contorted in fury. “Even now, those substandard pipes are beginning to disintegrate, which means that the people in that complex are drinking water full of debris.”
As Belle spoke, her voice rose in anger. “Biggs has suggested tenants boil their water. Can you believe that?” she demanded shrilly. “Can you imagine how sick they’ll become, considering the levels of carcinogens that will end up in the water?”
“You actually spoke to Mr. Biggs?” Dare asked in even tones. “He told you he suggested the tenants boil their water?” He shook his head. “The building is so new? You’re telling me the pipes are already failing?”
“Yes.”
“So you spoke to Biggs?” he prompted again.
“Well, no. He responded in a letter.”
He paused, deep in thought. “Why would the man install substandard materials, knowing full well they will fail soon enough?” he asked finally. “It just doesn’t make sense.”
“Probably because he didn’t plan to hold onto the building long enough to face the inevitable problems. I believe his plan was to sell out for a profit within months of the building’s completion. He’d planned to leave the next owner holding the bag.”
“Any new owner could turn around and sue him,” he pointed out reasonably.
“Yes, but, he could claim ignorance about the pipes.”
Dare seemed to consider her explanation. “I didn’t see any ‘for sale’ signs anywhere.”
“The bottom dropped out of the commercial real estate market about the time the complex was completed a year ago. Too bad for Biggs,” she said snidely. “Besides, there wouldn’t be any point putting signs up now. He’s already had enough bad publicity, no one will touch the place with a ten foot pole.”
“I take it Biggs has you to thank for that,” he said, and she was unable gauge his reaction when she nodded.
“They don’t call me Belle the Bulldog for nothing,” she said.
***
As Dare drove the few blocks from Belle’s place to his home, he couldn’t help smiling as he remembered how riled up she had become as they discussed the case. She was definitely passionate abo
ut her work.
Admittedly, she had frustrated him. She had seemed unwilling to concede there were two sides to any story, and was quick to indict J. Biggs. Perhaps she had good reason, but as yet, he couldn’t be sure, being new to the case.
He chuckled when he thought about her menagerie of pets. He nearly groaned aloud, remembering how he’d asked her what was wrong with the kitten. He could tell she’d been disgusted with him then, and he couldn’t really blame her. Clearly she adored her animals.
Suddenly, his thoughts turned to Gwen, his former fiancée. He shuddered when he recalled her poodle, Prissy, and how the animal had a penchant for peeing on his shoes. Like her poodle, Gwen was high maintenance, with a capital “H.”
He and Gwen had called off their engagement a year before, primarily because the two had realized their future goals weren’t nearly as in sync as they had once thought. He wondered suddenly, was Belle dating anyone? Did she have a boyfriend?
Like Belle, Gwen had drive, but unlike Belle, Gwen seemed to lack heart.
The thought caught Dare by surprise, and he wondered why it had occurred to him in the first place. Perhaps because Gwen would no more take on a low-income client than she would forgo her weekly manicure. She was a win-at-all-costs lawyer, whereas he had different ideas about what constituted a victory.
While career success was important to him, he longed for home and hearth—yearned for a family of his own—and had decided that in order to achieve those goals, he would need to prioritize his world. Perhaps it was losing his fifty-nine-year-old father two years before that had prompted him to realize what was important in life. He envisioned himself a father, and a hands-on one at that. While he would give his all during work hours, family time would be family time. Evenings and weekends would belong to his wife and children.
When he had broached the subject of children with Gwen soon before their breakup, she had seemed uncertain as to whether or not she even wanted them. That had come as a shock to him, since they’d discussed children on several occasions before. While she had never seemed as enthusiastic about having them as he was, she’d seemed fairly agreeable until that final conversation.
Dare knew Gwen’s impending partner status at a prestigious law firm had altered her thoughts on the subject of family. He had also been on the verge of making partner at an equally prestigious firm, but had ultimately walked away from both Gwen and the job.
Losing his father to a heart attack had shaken him to the core. His father had given his all to his job, hadn’t managed to attend a single one of his childrens’ ball games or school plays—and for what? To die before he had a chance to enjoy a single day of retirement, before he’d even had a chance to meet any grandchildren.
Dare had taken the loss of his dad hard. It had gotten him thinking about a lot of things, and ultimately, had prompted him to move home. He liked the idea of living in a smaller town and raising his future kids in a tight-knit community.
No. He refused to succumb to the same fate as his father. He resolved to never put work above family. And interestingly, Belle Preston had him thinking about family.
He wondered, was she like Gwen, intent on giving her all to a job, with little left over for anything or anyone else?
The woman was drop dead gorgeous, but clearly not the high-maintenance types he was accustomed to. He found Belle intriguing.
Indeed.
Chapter Five
As Belle puttered around her home and tidied up, she relived the conversation she had had with Dare during their picnic in her backyard. She’d remembered that conversation countless times over the past week, wishing each time that she had managed to reign in her…
What word was she looking for? Passion? Enthusiasm? If only she had retained some semblance of calm—managed to coolly voice her concerns about Biggs’ wrongdoing and bring Dare around to her way of thinking.
He hadn’t stayed long that particular evening, having left practically the instant they’d finished eating dinner. Belle knew she had herself to thank for that. But couldn’t he understand that lives were in jeopardy courtesy of Biggs’ disregard for his tenants’ well-being? If he couldn’t see it, then he had no business taking over her case, she decided with a flash of annoyance. He should have heard her.
It galled her that she hadn’t heard from him. She felt a desperate need to know what was happening with the case. She had made a point of asking Steven if he knew anything, but he hadn’t been particularly forthcoming. He’d mentioned he feared the wrath of Millicent. She couldn’t blame him that, but she felt so out of the loop.
She snatched a pillow from the couch, pounded it with an intensity that matched her mood, and then tossed it back onto the couch. To her surprise, the kitten was suddenly at her feet, purring and patting at her for attention. She smiled as she caught her up in her hands, feeling her tension lessen. Animals certainly had a way of calming her down, she realized.
“Hello, kitty kitty,” she crooned. “Hey, we have to think of a name for you,” she said with a smile. “I can’t keep calling you ‘Kitty Kitty’ forever.”
She carried the kitten to its bed on the porch, and Tri thumped his tail in greeting. Belle couldn’t help but grin when the little thing scrambled over to the dog and curled up in a tight ball between his paws. Tri appeared to smile like a proud papa, then lower his head and promptly drift off to sleep.
Belle readied for bed and soon climbed between the cool covers. Oh, if only she’d kept a cool head when she’d spoken to Dare about the case. Had she behaved differently, he might have been more inclined to keep her apprised of developments. Admittedly, she’d gotten on her high horse, as she often did when discussing obvious injustices against those who lacked the resources to fight for themselves.
Rosaria Rodriguez was a middle-aged single woman—an immigrant, with responsibilities that kept her working from morning until late at night. Belle admired her tremendously and wanted to lessen her burden in any way she could. She wondered, could Dare understand that? Or did he have much in common with her ex, Paul? Was he another up-and-comer intent on making a name for himself at any cost?
The next morning as Belle ate a breakfast of strawberry yogurt topped with granola, she found herself feeling more unsettled about Dare’s visit the week before. Did he really understand the complexities of the case? Initially, she had thought he had, but later… He had seemed sympathetic to the landlord’s plight. She couldn’t help but wonder why.
Later, as she toiled in her garden once again, she forced thoughts of work from her mind. It was too frustrating to realize she couldn’t do a thing to help Rosaria since her boss had practically banned her from Legal Aid for the remainder of her time off.
When she headed into her kitchen a while later to get a drink of water, she immediately spied the message light blinking on her answering machine. She hurried over and punched the button. “Hello, Belle. Dare here. Hey, I’m wondering if you could stop by the office today at twelve-thirty. There’s been a development in the case, and Rosaria has expressed a wish that you be present to discuss our options. Will that work for you? Please let me know. Hey, I’ll try your cell phone. Thanks.”
She placed the phone on the hook and then checked the clock above the kitchen sink. Twelve forty-five. She groaned aloud. Why hadn’t she taken her cell phone outside with her? Usually she did.
She made a grab for her purse hanging from a hook beside the back door, and hurried to the porch. She called the dogs inside. She couldn’t leave them outside, since they had a tendency to bark when her neighbor, Mr. Hennessey, happened to be out at the same time—which he was at present.
“To your rooms,” she told the dogs, and then latched the back door lock behind them. With a quick glance to assure the kitten was curled up in Tri’s dog house, Belle hurried out the front door and to her Prius parked in the driveway.
Although her commute to work was a short one, she opted to shoot over to the nearby freeway onramp. The exit off, only a mile o
r two from the onramp, spilled into the downtown area where she worked, depositing her at her parking structure only one short block from her office.
As she entered the freeway traffic, she hadn’t anticipated the early afternoon traffic jam awaiting her. She groaned loudly. She should have avoided the freeway all together. She glanced at her watch. Twelve-fifty.
She wondered if Rosaria would wait for her to arrive, though she realized she hadn’t actually called Dare to tell him she was coming. As the traffic came to a virtual standstill on the freeway, she reached for her cell phone in her purse. It was at that exact instant she remembered she’d left it charging beside her bed.
“Great, just great,” she muttered as she returned her hand to the wheel. She decided to roll down her car window in hopes of getting a better look at the roadway ahead, but she couldn’t spot the source of the snarl up. If only she hadn’t forgotten her phone.
Approximately thirty minutes later, she finally pulled off the freeway. She steered into her parking structure, pulled into a space, and then ran the short distance to her building. Legal Aid was located on the first floor.
She burst into the office, glancing around her as she did. She realized she’d startled the office staff, and smiled apologetically. She cast a questioning glance at Mary, the receptionist. “Rosaria Rodriguez,” she said breathlessly.
She nodded toward conference room one. Belle smiled her thanks, unaware of the curious glance Mary sent her way. She hurried to the room and found Dare sitting alone, frowning over a piece of paper.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said in a rush. “I didn’t get your message until twelve forty-five, and then I stupidly took the freeway, and there was a traffic jam, and…”
He waved off her apologies. “It’s all right. Rosaria had to leave, though. Sit down. I need to show you something.”
She took the seat across from him and watched him curiously. “What’s happening?”
Simply Being Belle Page 4
