Counselor Undone

by Lisa Rayne

  The situation caused a major dilemma. After this weekend, she didn’t want to give up spending time with Michael—in bed or out. She wanted to believe she could trust him to make this interlude work between them without risk to her reputation or career.

  What if she could have her cake and eat it too? Men did it all the time. Of course, the dynamics of most office romances rarely had the male in the subordinate position. She’d known, from the start the potential professional consequences were higher for her than him. No sense pretending that would magically change through wishful thinking. She needed to stay grounded and realistic.

  With a sigh, she unfolded her legs. She needed to find her phone then she’d head for her home office. She’d uncovered some interesting medical information about the failure of the opponent’s drug in what seemed like a significant number of adolescent cases. She wanted to review the details again and contact a biochemist she knew to help her understand some of the physiological implications.

  Phone finally located, she settled down with her laptop and pushed all thoughts of Michael Remington from her mind. She spent the remainder of the weekend alternating between analyzing the new information she’d uncovered about the opponent’s drug and hanging out with her brother.

  When Brandt left Sunday evening to return home, she noticed her car hadn’t yet been returned. She decided not to worry about it. Michael said he’d make sure it was returned by the time she had to go to work Monday morning, and she could count on him to get it done.

  As she closed the door behind her brother, the magnitude of her blind faith in Michael hit her. She was a control freak. Normally, she’d be immediately on the phone checking on the car situation and making plans to get it done herself. What did this say about her? About him? Or more particularly, about what he’d done to short-circuit her independence-wired brain cells?

  She slumped against the door. Her mind wandered through everything he’d done to her body this weekend. Her lips curved upwards with the memories.

  She’d have to face him in the office tomorrow morning. Hopefully, she’d be able to do so without a tell-tale goofy grin on her face. That would certainly blow all efforts to keep their weekend encounter under wraps.

  He’d said they needed to talk about this. Her gut told her nothing they’d say to each other would make a difference. Her heart whispered the completely opposite message, telling her to quit trying to control everything and take a chance. Just once, she wanted to believe in fairy tales, particularly one featuring an Italian Prince Charming.

  In an uncharacteristic Scarlett O’Hara moment, she decided she’d think about it tomorrow. She owed it to herself to at least hear what he had to say. This didn’t have to be forever. Maybe they could have a little bit of happy until.

  * * *

  Michael strolled into the kitchen of his mother’s Ward Parkway home. Sofia Remington looked up, pleasure written all over her face. “Michael! You’re early. I wasn’t expecting you for another hour.”

  “Hello, gorgeous.” Michael bent to kiss his mom on the cheek.

  At five foot six, Sofia was the shortest member of the family. Having married a man who was over six feet tall, she’d ended up with children who were all taller than her.

  “I did some shopping on the Plaza so I was close by. Didn’t make sense to go all the way home then come back. So here I am.” He reached for a few sliced black olives in a bowl on the counter.

  She swatted his hand then turned back to stir the pot she had on the stove. “What were you shopping for?”

  “Nothing in particular.” Michael stepped to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of Coke. “It was a spur of the moment sort of thing.” He leaned against the counter, twisted off the cap, and took a sip. He stood silently, watching her bustle around the kitchen.

  She allowed him to stand in his silence. She glanced at him from time to time, no doubt analyzing the pensive look on his face. She always told him he was exactly like his father. He knew she sometimes found it strange to look at Michael and see his father’s features beneath her olive coloring and coffee hair. He was a constant reminder of the greatest love of her life. He knew the reminder sometimes brought sadness along with the joy.

  He missed his father immensely. He suspected she missed him twice as much. Although it had been years since Austin Remington had been killed by a driver who’d lost control of his car during a snowstorm, the pain slipped in fresh for both of them at the oddest moments. Like now, he needed to talk through what bothered him with his dad, but he stood in his mother’s kitchen putting up a front.

  “What’s on your mind tonight, sweetheart?”

  “Huh?” He looked up from his daze. He should have known better than to come here before he’d finished wrestling with his thoughts. The downside of being like his father was that she could read him like a book like she always could his dad. Hiding things from her was like trying to keep scent from a bloodhound.

  She smiled indulgently. “You seem to be a million miles away.”

  “Maybe.” He started picking at the label on his Coke bottle. “Um . . . the case I’ve been working on took an interesting turn.”

  “Really?” Her eyes narrowed at his hesitation. “What’s going on?”

  “I think the opposition has access to our case strategy.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “How?”

  “We’ve documented unauthorized access to our case database. We’re not sure yet whether someone at the firm is providing them with access or they simply hacked into our network.”

  “Wow. That sounds pretty underhanded. I knew this was a major case, but is it really worth all this cloak and dagger?”

  “Apparently so. This is a pretty big deal in the pharmaceutical world. These companies make billions of dollars a year off these drugs. Not to mention the high stakes for the lawyers involved. The article they interviewed me for last month recently ran in the American Bar Association’s ABA Journal. The legal community is watching the case closely. Whichever firm posts a victory is going to have some major legal clout going forward.”

  His mother sighed and turned back to the stove.

  “What is it, mother?”

  “Nothing.”

  “That mournful sigh was not about nothing.”

  She looked over her shoulder at him. “I know you’re pretty focused on making Remington, Hager and McCormick a nationally recognized firm, but I wish you’d focus more on your personal life. You’re not getting any younger.”

  “Gee, thanks, mom. I didn’t realize you considered me over the hill at the ripe old age of thirty-eight.” He grinned at her.

  She put her spoon down and turned towards him. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. When are you planning to provide me with a few grandchildren?”

  “Liliana has provided you with three beautiful grandchildren. And given the way her husband looks at her whenever the two of them are here, I’m sure he’s going through the motions of giving you a few more.”

  She grabbed her tea towel off the counter and snapped him on the thigh with it. “Don’t be facetious. I’m talking about you giving me grandchildren. Whatever happened with the woman you met New Year’s Eve?”

  “Yeah, well, that may be complicated.”

  “How so?”

  The Coke bottle label peeled a little more under his scratching finger. “I think she may work at the firm.”

  “Oh.” A sizzle behind her drew Sofia’s attention. She grabbed her sauce spoon and stirred the noisy pot. Dinner saved, she turned back to her son. “I can see how that might be an issue for you.” Placing her sauce spoon back on the drip plate, Sofia crossed her arms. “So you’ve decided not to pursue the matter?”

  “I’ve got to focus on the Metra Pharmaceutical case. It was dad’s dream to build the firm into a national player. This case is my opportunity to make sure that happens for him.”

  “You can’t make that happen for him, Michael. He’s gone. The last thing he’d want is
for you to spend your life pursuing his dream instead of living your own.”

  “This is my dream.”

  “Is it? Or is it your way of trying to keep your father alive?”

  He sat his soda on the counter. “Why build a practice at all if I’m not going to make it a success?”

  “Success is one thing. Workaholic obsession to the exclusion of all else is another. This isn’t healthy, Michael. And it’s not the life your father would have wanted for you. I know you miss him, caro. I do, too. Everyday. But you can’t bring him back by slaving away in that office tower. And you can’t be cowardly enough to use it as an excuse not to make a meaningful connection with another human being.”

  “I’ve tried that connection thing already. Dad got the last good woman.” He walked over and kissed her on the temple.

  “I think your sisters would take issue with that comment.”

  “Well, I’m not planning to marry one of my sisters so my comment stands.”

  She grabbed him around the waist. “So you are planning to get married?”

  He stared blankly at her.

  She released him and sighed. “Your father was a family man, Michael. Work had its place, but his family—especially his children—came first. He was driven with a purpose. To build a legacy for you. He wasn’t driven by ego, success for the mere sake of success. He wanted to leave something solid and secure for his only son and make sure it was expansive enough to also provide his daughters lifelong financial security. He drove himself to provide for the family he took time to eat dinner with almost every night and for the children whose ball games and dance recitals he attended. Whom are you building this for, Michael?”

  He still didn’t respond. He stepped away from his mother.

  Sofia shook her head. “What’s going to happen when you climb to the top of this ladder of success you’re erecting and find you have no one to share it all with?”

  “Oh, I think he has someone in mind to share it all with.” Raina bounded into the kitchen and kissed her mother on the cheek.

  “Is that right?” Sofia’s voice rose in surprise. “I thought you weren’t seeing anyone,” she said, looking at Michael.

  “I’m not.”

  “But he’d like to be,” Raina said, sticking her fingers into the bowl of olives.

  Sofia swatted her hand. “Do tell.”

  Raina grinned. “Well—”

  “Raina, cut it out,” Michael said between clenched teeth.

  “What?” Raina batted her eyelashes at her brother. “What’s the big secret about your dinner with Jordis on the Plaza?”

  Sofia turned towards Raina. “Jordis? That’s an unusual name.”

  Raina popped olive bits into her mouth. “She’s an unusual woman. Tall. Funky, in an artsy kind of way. Dresses like a runway model but’s apparently smart enough to work with him.” She inclined her head in Michael’s direction.

  Eyes wide, Sofia’s glance snapped back to her son. “She works at the firm?”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not revisiting a past mistake.” Michael crossed his arms. “Raina and I just happened to run into her when we went out to dinner one night. I’m not even the one who invited her to dinner. Raina did.”

  “So, there’s nothing personal going on between you two?” his mother asked.

  Michael glanced at his sister then hedged, “She’s a brilliant lawyer. I like her style. She took over for Chase on the Metra Pharmaceuticals case so she’s my new co-counsel.”

  Raina scoffed. “Yeah, right. Maybe mamma’ll buy that’s all that’s going on, but I was there. I saw the electricity between you two.” Raina licked her index finger then pressed it together with her thumb while making a sizzling sound. “Hot. Hot. Hot.”

  “You know, Raina,” Michael said, “you’re about to get hurt.”

  Nonplussed, Raina meandered towards the kitchen doorway. She began to chant, “Michael and Jordis sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I—eeek!” Raina’s shriek filled the kitchen as Michael dropped his soda bottle on the counter and charged her. She fled up the stairs.

  Michael gave chase, catching her right foot as she reached the top landing. “Oh, no you don’t.” He snatched her up and made as if to dangle her over the railing.

  “Mo-om!” Raina yelled.

  Sofia came around the bend and gasped when she looked up the steps. “Good Lord!” Her hand fluttered to her heart. “Michael! Put your sister down this instant!”

  Michael jerked his arms as if he intended to drop Raina anyway then laughed when she shrieked again. As he put her down, he leaned into her ear. “I owe you. You better hope Christian doesn’t stop by for you sometime when I’m around.”

  Raina glared at him. “Spoilsport.”

  He ruffled her hair. “Don’t dish it out little sister if you can’t take it.”

  Sofia headed for the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready you two. Wash up and get back down here.”

  Michael and Raina headed for the bathroom. Raina finished and headed back downstairs before him.

  When he neared the kitchen doorway, he heard his sister whisper, “This is her.” His gut clenched. Out of sight, he peeked around the open entry off the hall. His sister press a few buttons on her iPhone and handed it to their mom.

  His mother glanced at the screen then quickly up at Raina. “Oh.”

  Raina smiled. “Yeah. Oh.” Chuckling, Raina went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of Snapple raspberry ice tea.

  “She’s gorgeous.” Sofia tapped on the phone and read through something. “Impressive resume. What’s she like?”

  Oh, hell. They were reviewing Jordis’s bio from the firm web site.

  Raina leaned against the fridge and unscrewed the cap of her tea. “She’s feisty, and independent, and she’s not intimidated by him.” Raina flicked her head in the direction of the staircase.

  This last part caught Sofia’s attention. “Well, that would be a first.”

  He wiped his hands down his face and leaned a shoulder against the hallway wall. His mother had never approved of his choices in short-term women.

  “Exactly.” Raina nodded.

  Sofia handed Raina back her phone. “How can you be sure he’s interested?” She grabbed the plated entrées and headed for the dining room.

  “Oh, he’s interested all right,” Raina said, grabbing the dish of vegetables off the counter with one hand and following her mom. “But I think this time, big brother may have finally met his match.”

  He frowned. What?

  Sofia placed the dishes on the table and smiled. “So that’s what’s really on his mind. Hmm . . . his mystery woman shows up at the firm about the same time he goes to dinner with a gorgeous new attorney. Something tells me those grandchildren he keeps giving me a hard time about aren’t as far off as he’d like me to believe.”

  Raina burst out laughing.

  The urge to sneak out the back door without a word overcame him. He quickly nixed the idea; his mother would have him hunted down and beaten. Heading for the dining room, he mentally catalogued the best criminal attorneys he knew. He’d need one later tonight because he was about to murder his baby sister.

  * * *

  Michael survived dinner without committing homicide, but didn’t dawdle at his mom’s long after. He swung by the office to take care of a few matters. When he pulled into the garage, he noted Jordis’s car was gone. The service he’d called must have picked it up earlier. Glad that was taken care of, he headed for the elevators.

  He stepped off on the twenty-fifth floor and went straight to his secretary’s desk. As he suspected, a stack of correspondence waited for his signature. Lana had been in sometime over the weekend. The woman didn’t know how to take a break. Not that he was complaining. He wouldn’t be half as successful if not for Lana’s tireless efficiency and dedication.

  After he thumbed through the correspondence, he signed in all the appropriate places. As he placed the stack neatly back on Lana’s desk, a sound drew
his attention. Turning in the direction from which the sound had come, he listened intently. Muffled voices traveled from down the hall. He went to investigate.

  The sound quieted after a minute. He paused to get his bearings. A low moaned finally sliced through the silence. He continued his trek, curious to know who else was at the office this late on a Sunday night. As he got closer to the sound, he recognized the decidedly sexual nature of the muffled murmurings. They led him to Eric Covington’s office.

  The door stood ajar. He glanced through the slit of an opening and was greeted by the sight of Alyson’s naked bottom tilted up at an angle of copulatory invitation. She wore a dress, but her dress had been hiked above her waist. Loose around her left ankle hung lacy panties in a shade that matched her black stilettos. Michael noticed her fingers dallying between her thighs. She knelt between Eric’s spread legs. Eric’s pants and briefs were bunched at his ankles, his shirt open.

  Eric moaned as Alyson’s head bobbed up and down over his lap. He fisted a hand in her hair and shoved his hips hard. Alyson hummed deep in her throat, apparently enjoying his rough play.

  Michael stepped away from the door. Strange bedfellows, he thought and left them to their business. They were consenting adults so what they did together was none of his business. He made a mental note, however, to get rid of that couch if Eric ever decided to leave the firm.

  Michael went back to his office and got down to work. About twenty minutes later, Alyson walked by his office. She flinched when she saw him looking at her from his desk. She placed her hand against her chest and played off the edge of fear he’d sensed in her.

  “Oh, Michael, you surprised me. I didn’t know you were here.”

  “I came in to catch up on some paperwork I missed due to the snowstorm.”

  Alyson propped herself against his doorjamb, trying to look sexy. Michael leaned back in his chair wondering what she had in mind.