Counselor Undone

by Lisa Rayne

  Chase rose and put a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “I understand better than you think. I once dated a woman who turned me inside out like that.” Chase headed for the door.

  Michael swiveled his chair towards his friend’s departing frame. “What did you do?”

  Chase stopped and turned. A slow grin crept up one side of his face. His eyebrows peaked as he cocked his head. “Think about it for a minute.” When Michael’s eyes finally widened in a startled face, Chase laughed. “Yeah, I married her.”

  Chapter 13

  Michael stopped outside the East Conference Room a few hours later and stared through the open door at Jordis working silently at the conference room table. He’d been stewing over their run-in all afternoon. His actions had gotten out of hand. He’d never behaved that way with a colleague, especially not a woman.

  Chase’s comment about marrying the only woman to turn him inside out weighed on his mind. He’d stumbled into unknown emotional territory, but he was nowhere near that quagmire of male dysfunction. That Jordis thought him one of those guys who thought himself entitled to collect special favors from his female employees had angered him. He normally flicked off others’ opinions of him—good or bad. For some reason, this woman’s opinion of him mattered, a lot. Perhaps her opinion mattered too much.

  She was hiding something. More than being close to her brother had brought her back to Kansas City. When he’d returned to his office this afternoon, he’d logged into his voicemail and received a heads-up from an unlikely source. The unexpected message had caught him by surprise: “Remington, Keith Wilson here. It seems you and I have something in common . . .”

  Michael had moved to erase the message when something in the man’s tone had caught his attention. The animosity came through in a harsh sneer: “. . . so before you get too attached to our Miss Jordis, you might want to ask her why she really left LA.”

  Part of him understood Wilson had left the warning expressly to cause trouble for Jordis. From the bad blood he’d witnessed between the two, Wilson wasn’t exactly a reliable source of information. Nevertheless, Wilson’s insinuation Jordis had left LA for some nefarious reason had him curious.

  He took a deep breath as he considered how best to proceed with her. He’d been adamant about starting their strategy sessions tonight. During his analysis of the plaintiff’s motion for summary judgment, he’d discovered some troubling factual information relied upon by the other side. He wanted to talk through his suppositions and theories about how the plaintiff had obtained some of that factual information, but he needed to clear the air between them first and now the mystery of LA nagged at him.

  He stepped into the conference room and closed the door. He leaned against it. His eyes wandered to the Chinese food set up on the credenza. It hadn’t been touched. “You’re not going to eat?”

  Jordis didn’t turn around or speak.

  “Jordis?”

  “I’m not hungry. Let’s get to work.”

  She leaned over the table and sorted through a pile of folders on the far side of the table. Her tight, firm bottom drew his attention. The enticing image made him want to step up behind her and lift her skirt. He closed his eyes briefly to gain some control. He needed to make peace with her. That wouldn’t happen if he let his baser emotions get the better of him.

  “Jordis, we need to talk.” He moved to her side and reached for the stack of folders in her hand. His palm brushed the back of her hand, and hot energy rippled through him from that simple touch. He went still, hyperaware of the feel of her skin against his palm and the curve of her hip pressed against his. He let his hand trail slowly past her wrist, up her forearm. Jordis pulled back, but Michael rested his hand against her far hip to keep her close.

  “Michael, don’t. We’re at the office. We need to focus.” She broke his hold and placed herself out of his reach.

  He blew out a long breath. “Yeah. Focus.” He stepped away from the table. “I can’t focus very well when I’m around you.”

  Jordis scowled at him. “Well, you need to get over it.”

  “And you need to get a clue!” His brows bunched into deep creases.

  Her widened eyes lit instantly with fury.

  He drove a hand into his hair. He hadn’t meant to bark at her, but how could he get over this if he couldn’t even talk with her about it. “We can’t stick our heads in the sand. This spark that ignites every time we’re in a room together isn’t going to go away just because we work together and I happen to be your supervising attorney.”

  “Maybe. Then again, we’re adults not children. We understand there are things we want that we can’t have. A simple case of self-control, mind over matter, and we manage to get along without them just fine.”

  “Mind over matter? Really? That’s your answer?” His arms crossed over his chest. “Is it really that easy for you to turn it on and off?”

  “Yes, it’s that easy.” She looked away.

  He couldn’t see her eyes to judge her truthfulness.

  She stepped around the table to where she’d spread out her case notes and sat down. Michael watched her pull over a folder and primly open it, purposely avoiding eye contact. Time passed while she fiddled with two pens and a highlighter. He didn’t move.

  Eventually, she looked up. “I thought you ordered me here to work on the case, not discuss our personal issue.”

  He raised a brow at her use of the word ordered. “Well . . . now, I want to address both.”

  “Since we’re on the client’s time at the moment, how about we stick to the case?” Impatience and disinterest lived on her face, but those eyes—those extremely expressive eyes—revealed what she’d hidden from him moments before. She’d lied about how easy it was for her to turn off her emotions.

  He slid his hands into his pockets, satisfied he wasn’t in this alone. “You’re right. We have work to do. So, I’ll table the personal discussion—temporarily.” He leaned onto the table, palms flat. To match his mood, his voice modulated to the unyielding tone he used when cross-examining a hostile witness. “Make no mistake, however. When we’re through here, Ms. Morgan, we’re having that other conversation.”

  Butt dropped into a chair, he snapped open his own folder, took a deep breath to center himself, and buckled down to focus on the case. “Our opponents have taken a pretty aggressive stance on their motion for summary judgment. Something has made them think they have the upper hand, and we need to figure out what it is.” He snatched up a group of folders piled to his right. “Take a look at these. They were in the last batch of documents adverse counsel sent over. Interestingly, the file room managed to misplace the box they came in for over a week.”

  “A week?” She flipped open the top folder of the stack he’d handed her without missing a beat. Apparently, she was better at this mind over matter thing than he was. “Where were they finally located?”

  “In the file room, misfiled a few cases over. I thought it rather suspicious when they turned up basically in plain sight. And, they weren’t the only documents missing. A box of our client’s confidential, attorney-client privileged documents went missing at the same time.”

  She leaned her forearms on the table. “Let me guess. The box of confidential documents managed to show up at the same time as the missing discovery documents.”

  “Exactly.” He grabbed a document from the stack of pleadings his secretary had left him and tossed it across the table at her. “Here’s a copy of the motion. I highlighted some factual allegations and legal theories which appear to be based upon confidential information.”

  Jordis’s head snapped up. “You think opposing counsel had improper access to the attorney-client privileged documents?”

  “Or they’ve had access to the database where we store electronic copies of all case documents. I’ve asked the IT department to look into whether the firm database has been accessed by any unauthorized users, but it will take a couple of weeks for them to do a thorough evaluatio
n.”

  “We don’t have a couple of weeks.” Jordis stood and commandeered the conference call setup in the middle of the table. “I think I can do better than that.”

  She dialed a number and pulled a microphone/speaker satellite towards herself and slid one towards Michael.

  A deep voice answered on the other end. “Brandt Morgan.”

  “Hey, bro. I need your help with something, and I have you on speakerphone with my boss. So, behave.”

  “Which boss is that?” Brandt asked. “The arrogant, domineering jerk or the prince of a guy with the great sense of humor?”

  Staring at Jordis’s mortified face, Michael responded, “Michael Remington here, Brandt. I believe I would be the arrogant, domineering jerk.”

  Jordis bit her lip as she tried to hide a smile. Michael continued to watch her, and she shrugged at him.

  Brandt laughed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you by phone, Michael. What can I do for you guys?”

  Jordis leaned towards the speakerphone. “Michael thinks someone may be tapping into our case database and accessing privileged documents.”

  “I think it may be more than just case documents, Brandt,” Michael added. “I don’t keep my strategy notes or work product on the main database. I have a separate electronic system for those, but I believe our opponents may have had access to those as well.”

  “Oh, so we’re going on a spy hunt.” Brandt’s voice dripped with glee.

  Jordis shook her head at the excitement in her brother’s voice. “You’re such a geek.”

  “And proud of it. Jordis, do you have your laptop handy?” Brandt asked her.

  “Yeah, sure.” She leaned over and pulled her laptop out of her tote.

  “I have remote access set up on your laptop. Let’s get down to business.”

  They worked through issues with Brandt as he scouted around the firm network. After a couple of hours of troubleshooting, Brandt discovered a gateway that allowed back door access. An unknown external ISP had used the gateway several times. Michael made arrangements for Brandt to liaise with the firm’s IT group so he could gather more detailed information on the breach and run a trace.

  “Once I get set up with your people, Michael, it should only take me a few hours to track the unknown ISP and figure out whether your backdoor was left open by an insider or pried open by a trespasser. Sis, I’ll talk to you later. ” Brandt clicked off.

  Jordis made a show of checking the time on her mobile phone. “I think we’ve covered enough ground tonight. I need a break and some dinner.” She gathered her notes from the table and stood. “I’ll look at everything some more tomorrow and let you know if I find anything else of note.”

  “Jordis, now that we’re off the client’s dime, let’s talk. We can heat the Chinese food if you need to eat.”

  She shook her head and shouldered her tote. “I’m not in the mood for Chinese.” She headed for the door.

  “Stop.” At the sharp crack of his command, she froze. “Maybe you have nothing to say, but I do. At least, let me apologize for what I said earlier.”

  “Apology accepted. Now let’s move on.”

  He reached for her, but she yanked her arm away. “Don’t.”

  “Jordis, talk to me. I . . .” He huffed out a breath.

  Jordis stared at him, waiting.

  He felt like an imbecile having to admit what had been going through his mind. “I was angry.”

  “I figured that much out on my own.”

  “No, I mean, when I walked in and saw you with Covington, I—”

  “You assumed I was making out with him only days after my interlude with you.”

  His lips pressed together at her directness.

  “What’s the matter, Michael?” She gave him a skeptical look. “Were you jealous at the thought I might not be completely bowled over by your charms?”

  “Yes!” he snapped.

  Her look of surprise took the edge off her smart-aleck remark.

  “I’m not usually a jealous man. I don’t get possessive over women. But for some reason with you, I feel both. I don’t know what to do with that.”

  “There’s really nothing for you to do with that . . . except maybe let it go.” She took a step towards him. “We’re colleagues, Michael. Nothing more. I’ve been handed a case that will pretty much make my career here as long as we don’t screw it up. I’m not jeopardizing that for a fling with a man who can have any woman in this firm he wants.” A shrug hitched her tote strap higher on her shoulder. “Do us both a favor. Pick someone else.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “Let’s be clear.” Her eyes narrowed. “I want you, too. Bad. But I want this partnership more than I want your d— . . . member in me. So, this piece of tail is going home so we can both keep our integrity intact.” She strode towards the door.

  This time he let her go, afraid if he put his hands on her, he’d try shaking sense into her or find a more sensually demonstrative way to prove the bluff behind her words. Neither action would be a wise way to handle their impasse. He’d accumulated enough marks against him for one day.

  She’d made her position clear. She prioritized using this case to cement her selection to partnership. Her career took precedence over any personal relationship with him. The one time it would have been to his benefit to have a woman use him to try to further her career, he ended up with an ambitious associate with ethics.

  She was stubborn and combative. How he could be simultaneously annoyed and turned on by that baffled him, but he was done questioning his feelings. Somehow, he had to show her that surrendering to her passion was as important as advancing her career. Tomorrow he’d start the full-out campaign to thaw the deep freeze she’d placed around her heart. They’d settle this matter between them and then he’d find out what happened in LA. She’d thought he’d been arrogant and domineering before. She hadn’t seen anything yet.

  * * *

  Jordis got back to her office to find a sealed manila envelope on her chair. She picked it up and opened it. The handwritten note she slid from the pouch made her cringe.

  You little slut!

  We need to talk about that elevator kiss!

  Meet me at Delilah’s in Zona Rosa. 9pm sharp.

  Come alone.

  Someone had seen her and Michael Thursday night. How was that possible?

  She plopped down into her chair. The day kept getting better and better. First, Covington. Then, the row with Michael. Now this. She wanted to scream.

  She looked up from the note to find Alyson McGovern leaning against her open office door watching her.

  “Well, well, well,” Alyson crooned. “Word is you were assigned second chair in the Metra Pharmaceuticals case today. Congratulations.” She sounded anything but congratulatory.

  Jordis crumpled the note in her hand, her fist tight around the wad of paper. “Thanks, Alyson. What can I do for you?”

  “Oh, nothing in particular. I just wanted to stop by and be amongst the first to say well done.” Her grin conveyed irritation rather than amity. “You know, I’m rarely outdone in getting something I want.” Alyson sauntered into the room. “No worries though. I always have a back up plan.”

  Placing her hand on the back of a guest chair, Alyson gave Jordis a once over with her eyes. “I guess I just wasn’t exotic enough for Mr. Remington.”

  Jordis’s eyes narrowed. “Just what are you trying to say, Alyson?”

  Alyson gave a catty laugh. “No sense playing coy with me. Eric may have bought that drivel about why you and Michael took so long leaving the gym last weekend and given you the benefit of the doubt about that carriage ride on the Plaza, but we women know exactly what was going on.”

  Jordis stood. “Exactly what are you accusing me of?”

  Alyson’s eyes widened in feigned innocence. “Me?” She touched her hand to her chest. “I would never deign to accuse our senior partner’s pet associate of anything untoward.” Alyson’s hand sw
ept the room. “At least, not here where I could be overheard and lose plausible deniability.”

  She laughed before heading for the door. She grabbed the door handle, but didn’t exit. Looking back, she advised, “You should be careful what you say and do at the office, Jordis. There are eyes and ears everywhere.

  “And don’t be foolish enough to believe pets can’t fall out of favor. A man like Michael Remington enjoys a little variety. Who knows what will happen when he gets bored with the flavor of the month.” With a gleam in her eye and a wicked curve to her lips, Alyson left, pulling the door closed.

  Jordis looked down at the crumple in her fist. Untwisting the wad, she opened the note and read it again. Had Alyson sent it? Had Eric? The two of them had obviously been talking.

  She didn’t have one jackal at her back, she had two. How could she have been so stupid as to forget about Alyson’s sexual designs on Michael?

  Possibly, Alyson’s interest lay more in getting a prime case assignment than lust, but Alyson didn’t have the experience of Eric or herself so the Metra Pharma appointment wouldn’t have been an option for Alyson. Unless, of course, she were sleeping with Michael Remington. The thought put Jordis back in her seat.

  She glanced at her desk clock. It displayed a quarter to nine. Her stomach churned. Out of principle, she hadn’t eaten any of the dinner Michael had brought in. His orders had to be followed when it came to work, but she didn’t have to eat his food.

  She placed a hand over her unquiet stomach and fingered the note on her desk. She’d know soon what game Eric or Alyson had in mind. At least the slime had chosen a meeting spot unlikely to be patronized by the upwardly mobile clan of their firm. Delilah’s was a trendy hole-in-the-wall for singles and artsy types. Whatever her stalker had in mind, she wouldn’t have to worry about all those “eyes and ears.”

  * * *

  Jordis arrived at Delilah’s and sat in her car surveying the parking lot for a recognizable face or car. She didn’t notice anyone she knew. As for the cars, she wasn’t familiar enough with her coworkers’ vehicles to easily pick out a particular ride.