by Julie Cannon
“I would have sent you flowers but I was afraid it would generate more questions than you’d like to answer.” It was Elliott’s habit to send flowers to the women she spent the night with as a way of thanking them for the experience. Now it just seemed cheap.
“You’re right, but I appreciate the thought and the thoughtfulness.” Lauren tried to avoid receiving anything of a personal nature at work. The umbrella bouquet Elliott had sent just after they met was still being talked about. “How was your day?”
Elliott regarded the piles of paper on her desk and sighed. “It seems to never stop. How about you?”
“Not bad, but I have more fun with you.”
“Wanna have some more fun, little girl?” Elliott’s imitation of Groucho Marx was laughable.
Lauren was about to answer when she caught a movement in her doorway and looked up to find Charles Comstock standing on her threshold. Oh shit! How much did he hear? “Yes, I’d definitely be interested in that suggestion. I’ll follow up with you later and we can firm up the arrangements.”
Elliott was puzzled at Lauren’s sudden shift in her tone and the conversation. “Did somebody just walk in?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Lauren replied, looking at her boss for any indication that he had heard too much.
“Well, tell them to go away. You’re busy talking dirty to your lover,” Elliott teased.
“Actually, I’d love to, but that really isn’t possible.” Lauren signaled Charles that she understood his hand gestures and would be in his office shortly.
“Okay, I’ll cut you some slack, this time,” Elliott said. “But next time you’ll have to remember to close and lock the door.”
Lock the door? Jesus, she’s making me crazy. “You’re absolutely right. I’ll speak with you later.” Without giving Elliott the opportunity to respond, she said good-bye and got to her feet. The last thing she felt like was a meeting with her boss and, from the taut expression on his face, it was not going to be pleasant.
*
Lauren was furious. She’d just successfully argued to dismiss the SEC charges against Bradley & Taylor. While both men should have been ecstatic at the turn of events, they had been strangely subdued on the flight back, and now they were treating her like the enemy.
Charles was seated behind his desk and Thomas Merison was in the chair to the left. Charles’s desk was clear except for a manila file folder. He preferred to have meetings and conversations at his conference table or the small seating area by the window. The fact that he was on the other side of the massive desk signaled this was serious and it involved her.
“Lauren, please come in and sit down.” There was no informality in his voice.
Merison almost gloated as she sat in the adjacent chair.
“Lauren, something has come to my attention and I’m very disturbed by it.”
Lauren’s stomach tightened but she didn’t say anything.
“I received some photographs that are, shall we say, not appropriate to the image we uphold here at Bradley & Taylor. I’m disappointed in you, Lauren. The company had high expectations of you, but it seems our trust was misplaced.”
“Photographs? May I see them, Charles?” Lauren had no idea what she would see when she opened the folder, but she was not about to back away from whatever it was. She was relieved that her hands were steady when she picked up the folder Comstock slid across the desk. He had as little physical contact with the file as possible, giving her the impression that he was afraid he might catch whatever was inside. She felt rather than saw both men’s eyes on her as she opened it.
Staring back at her was a photograph of Elliott. Her experience as an attorney enabled her to show no reaction as she studied first one photo then the next. She was locked in a passionate embrace in Elliott’s arms. She recognized her back patio as the setting. Instantly she knew what this was about. Oh my God, Elliott. She was sick to her stomach and wanted nothing more than to vomit all over Merison’s Italian leather loafers and Comstock’s Persian rug, but she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. There were several similar photos in the stack. She flipped though them in an uninterested manner, then tossed the folder back on Comstock’s desk without saying anything. She made cool, defiant eye contact with both men but remained silent. Let them cast the first volley.
“You can see why we’re upset, Lauren,” Comstock said.
“Over two consenting adults sharing their attraction to each other?” Her voice was strong and firm.
“It’s disgusting!” Merison spat from his chair.
“Tom…”
“No, Charles. She’s a pervert, and what she is doing in those pictures—and God knows what else they did after that—is disgusting. We can’t have this kind of degenerate as a member of this company.” He was seething. All the cards were now out on the table.
“Lauren?” her boss asked. “Do you have anything to say about this?”
Lauren knew what they wanted from her. They expected her to deny it or make excuses for kissing Elliott. They wanted her to resign in humiliation, and if she didn’t they would hold it over her and make her life miserable. They might keep her on the payroll, but they would strip her of her duties, rendering her impotent to do what she loved, to practice law. How she handled these next few minutes would define her, personally and professionally, for the rest of her life.
“Lauren?” Comstock was waiting for her answer.
She looked back and forth at both men and made the most significant decision of her life. “No, Charles, I have nothing to say about this because it’s none of your business. I’m a good attorney…no, I’m a great attorney, and you know it. My personal life is none of this company’s damn business and I will not be threatened because of it.”
She turned her attention to Merison, who sat smugly in his chair. “Tell me, Thomas, how is Summer doing? Is she back at school? It’s been what, two or three months? Wait, isn’t that the same as a trimester?” The look of shock on Merison’s face told her she had hit her mark perfectly.
Both men sat speechless. They had worked hard to make sure that the incident with Merison’s daughter was handled discreetly and never hit the papers. To have the sordid details come out now would make Merison crazy.
Lauren stood on solid legs. “I’m not sure if I can ever come to terms with the moral degeneracy of a pregnant teen attempting to trade sex for favors from a police officer, and being supported in her illegal conduct by a father who should know better.” She sighed. “The tragedy is, mistakes like Summer’s are sometimes judged most harshly by people who have their own secrets to hide. Hypocrites need to deflect attention from themselves, I suppose.” She turned her gaze on Merison. “You would know all about that, Thomas.”
“I don’t think the two situations can be compared.” Comstock’s indignation sounded hollow.
“No, they can’t,” Lauren agreed. “One involves a crime, and the other doesn’t. Who sent the photos, Charles?”
“They arrived anonymously.”
Lauren’s mind raced. Had Merison engineered this? It was possible, since he was a homophobe and seemed to have a personal vendetta against her. But he had to know that Lauren would not guard his dirty little secret if she were hung out to dry over her personal life.
“I’m very disappointed that this company isn’t the company I believed it to be.” She held up her hand as Comstock opened his mouth. “Don’t, Charles, I really don’t want to hear anything else you have to say to me.” She changed her tone from anger to pity. “You are my biggest disappointment in all of this. I respected you. I would have done anything for you and for this company, and this is what I get because I might want to bring my girlfriend to the Christmas party? Losing me makes you the biggest loser here, Charles.” Lauren pointed her finger at the stunned man to emphasize her point. “You and this company, and I feel sorry for both of you.”
She started to leave, then hesitated and turned back to the men. “Oh, one other thing. If I
ever hear that John Briggs has left the company for any reason other than because he’s fed up with this bullshit, everyone will know Summer is more than just a season.” She left the door open as she walked out.
*
“Are you absolutely sure about this?” Elliott asked Teresa.
“I found them by accident. I was looking for the Colchester file. Mark tends to be a slob, so I was checking his desk, and…there they were, stuffed under some papers in the bottom drawer.”
“In a folder with the business card of a private investigator?”
“I would have taken the folder, but he could just deny it then and act like he is being set up.”
“Good thinking.” Elliott gave a couple of different scenarios room in her mind. She could call Ryan and go about this formally, or she could just march in there and confront him herself. “I’ll deal with this. Is he in now?”
“All two hundred pounds of irresistible manhood,” Teresa replied with dour humor.
Elliott headed along the hallway and took the stairs down a level. As usual, she spared a thought for Stephanie, but her younger sister no longer factored into the equation; Stephanie had made her choice and would have to live with it. No doubt she would come up with a good excuse to explain why her husband had hired a PI to snap photos of Elliott kissing a woman.
Elliott did not knock. She pushed open his door and crossed the room to slap her hand down on his desk. One look at his guilty face and she knew he’d done everything Teresa said, and possibly more.
“El.” He gulped down the mouthful of pizza he was chewing. “What brings you to my humble abode?”
“Don’t waste my time.” She put her hands on her hips. “You know why I’m here.”
Her brother-in-law’s gaze darted past her to the door as if he was actually thinking about making a run for it. Then, with a swagger he could not quite sustain, he said, “Chill. I don’t know what you’ve been hearing, but the Gallien Company has absolutely no connection with the Syrians. There’s no foundation to those rumors. I personally checked the principals’ bona fides.”
“What!” Elliott exploded, unable to believe her ears. Distracted from her intended course of action, she demanded, “Are you telling me you’re still chasing that deal behind my back?”
Suddenly, some of the strange questions she had answered in the meeting with the FBI started making sense. Had she ever been to Syria? Could she provide a list of all business contacts in the Middle East? Did her company have business relationships with any French weapons providers? The final nail on Mark’s coffin fell into place.
“I’m simply assembling the right information so that you can be in possession of the full facts,” Mark said. “I know why you had concerns, but those rumors were circulated by a competitor. The deal is—”
“The deal is dead! I have all the facts I need, and that’s not why I’m here.” Elliott’s mind was working overtime. Was the FBI interested in her because of Gallien? If so, she could clear that up in five minutes.
This time Mark had nothing to say. He scowled at her with a mixture of fear and puzzlement.
Elliott tapped his desk sharply. “Put it here.”
“What?”
“The folder and photographs.”
Mark’s face turned bright red and he made a wheezing sound and clutched at his chest. Please, not a heart attack. Elliott was in no mood to administer life-saving CPR to this bloodsucker.
“Do it!” she yelled.
“I didn’t know he was going to take pictures, I swear,” Mark began blathering as he stooped to pull the folder from his bottom drawer. “All I asked him to do was watch you and report back, but those guys, they act like someone has cut their nuts off if they can’t take photos.”
Give me strength. “You hired an investigator to watch me?”
“It’s not what you think. It wasn’t my idea. That woman…Rebecca. She came up here one day—”
“You fucked her.”
Even up to his neck in shit, he couldn’t contain himself. “She knew I hated you. Hell, everybody knows I hate you. She seemed to be pretty happy having a real man for a change.”
His gloating expression vanished when Elliott said, “You’re fired, Mark.”
“You can’t fire me.”
“I just did.” Elliott picked up the phone and called security. “You have five minutes. Don’t take anything from your desk or filing cabinets. I’ll have your personal effects sent to the house.”
For once, he seemed lost for words. The color leached from his face. “She said she just needed some insurance.”
“Mark, a word of advice—think with your brain.” Elliott leafed through the photographs. “Who else has seen these?”
He blinked. Elliott could see him constructing a lie. “No one.”
Wearily, she said, “I can make things a whole lot tougher for you. Tell me everything and this stays here. I’ll advise the board that you have resigned to spend more time with your family.”
Mark’s face sagged. “I sent them to her company.”
“To Lauren’s company?” Elliott was stunned. She forced herself to stay calm so she wouldn’t strangle him with her bare hands. “Why?”
“She’s a bitch.”
Elliott regarded him through narrowed eyes, letting him know with a single cold look that he was on dangerous ground.
“Okay, she turned me down. Fuck, all I did was touch her ass, and I didn’t even know it was her until I saw the pictures. It’s not like I planned all this.”
“But when you saw her you decided to take advantage and pay her back?”
He tried to show remorse. “What the fuck does it matter. She’s just another one of your wh—”
Say it and I’ll break your jaw. Elliott clenched her fists. “You’re talking about the woman I love, asshole. And if you ever lay a hand on her again, so help me, I’ll kill you.”
She wasn’t sure who was more flabbergasted; Mark stared with his jaw hanging, and she distracted herself by taking the keys from his desktop and locking his cabinets. Security arrived while she was making sure nothing could be removed from the building.
Mark’s parting words were predictably craven. “Please, El…for Stephanie’s sake…please, don’t tell her.”
Elliott didn’t respond. Her mind had room for only one thought. The woman I love.
Chapter Seventeen
“I need to see you,” Elliott said when she finally managed to get past Lauren’s guard-dog assistant.
“This is not a good time.” Lauren spoke carefully. She didn’t want to sound discouraging, but she did not want her call to be overheard, either.
“It’s urgent,” Elliott said. “And we can’t do this over the phone.”
“Okay, but I might not be very good company. My CEO just dropped a bombshell on me.”
Elliott fell silent, suddenly afraid. The situation she had hoped to preempt was clearly in play, and she could not predict how Lauren would react when she found out why her career was now under threat. “Lauren, just answer me one question. Does the bombshell involve photographs?”
Lauren gasped. “How do you know?”
“As I said, we can’t talk about this over the phone. Please, can I come by tonight?”
An hour later, when they were settled in Lauren’s living room, Lauren kicked off the conversation. “The photos?”
“My fault,” Elliott admitted.
“How is it your fault?” Lauren felt queasy.
“Remember my brother-in-law?”
Lauren grimaced. “The man with a hundred hands?”
“I wish you had told me he groped you.” Elliott looked pained.
“He’s family. I didn’t want to cause a problem.”
“You’re not the problem, he is.” With a groan, she said, “Lauren, he sent the photos. He hired a private investigator to watch me. The guy took the pics. Mark recognized you and thought he could get some revenge.”
“Because I gave him the
brush-off?” Lauren was incredulous. “He tried to destroy my career over that?”
“What can I tell you? The man is a jerk.” Elliott paused. “There’s more.”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
The slight humor in her tone soothed Elliott. Her worst fear had been that Lauren would just lose it and blame her and that would be the end of them. Elliott’s mind jumped back to her exchange with Mark, and she tried to place her comment in context. In the heat of the moment, she’d blurted out the woman I love. She studied Lauren, testing the words against her feelings. Nothing jarred, except that the notion was so foreign to her she wondered if she really knew what it meant.
There were people she loved. She knew what love was. Yet her feelings for Lauren were different. For a start, she could be apart from people she loved and not feel hollow and bereft. She could contemplate having a fight with someone like Victoria without the excruciating fear of losing her.
“Elliott?” Lauren was regarding her quizzically. “What else were you going to say?”
Elliott combed her fingers over her forehead and through her hair as she collected her thoughts. “Rebecca instigated this. She slept with Mark and…persuaded him to hire the PI. This was her idea of insurance, something she could use against me…us…later on, I guess.”
Lauren was silent briefly, wondering if she should tell Elliott now what she had done. She could see that Elliott was incensed and barely controlling her emotions. Gently, she said, “First of all, I don’t blame you for this. Rebecca and Mark are responsible. Secondly, I resigned today.”
“Oh, God. No. I’m so sorry. I’ll speak to your boss. This doesn’t have to—”
“Wait. Listen to me Elliott, it was coming.” She’d been struggling with the decision ever since the discussion about John Briggs. “I was starting to see exactly what kind of company Bradley & Taylor is and I didn’t like it.”
What are you going to do?” Elliott asked.
