She rolled down the window.
“Ma’am, is something wrong?”
Brittany realized by his uniform that he was an employee of the prison, probably a watchman. “No, sir. It’s…” Her voice failed.
“I didn’t mean to intrude, but you’ve been sitting here for a while. I thought maybe you might be having car trouble.”
“Thanks for checking on me,” she said in a distracted tone, “but everything’s okay.”
Once he’d gone, she started the car, backed out of the parking space and headed for home, that old sick feeling washing through her once again. Even though she hadn’t expected Collier to have a change of heart and to follow her, her heart had cried out for him to do that very thing.
Now that cry was silenced. She would never be bothered by Collier Smith again, except maybe in a court of law if there was an appeal or when her brother came up for parole.
And that hurt. God, that hurt. She hadn’t wanted it to end like this, not on such a harsh, bitter note.
By the time she’d made it home to her dismal surroundings, Brittany’s face was saturated with tears, because she hadn’t wanted it to end at all.
“I didn’t grab her ass. I don’t give a damn what she said.”
“She’s not the only one who said it, Luther,” Collier responded in a mild, even tone.
His client in the sexual harassment suit, Luther Brick-man, had called and asked him to stop by his house following their day in court. As he watched the sixty-year-old executive take a long pull on his drink, it was obvious why the man felt confident he could have any woman he wanted.
With a thick head of steel-gray hair and penetrating green eyes that remained clear despite his penchant for the bottle, he presented a fine specimen. Twice divorced, with no children, he had a reputation for womanizing in and out of the workplace.
“I don’t give a shit what they said, this time I’m not guilty. She’s lying through her teeth.”
“You don’t have to keep telling me that. I’m on your side.”
“Then why the hell did you let that runt of an attorney talk to me like that?”
To say the least, their day in court had been a volatile one. Luther had been fiercely cross-examined and was obviously still reeling from the beating he’d taken.
Collier wished he hadn’t indulged Luther. Instead he should have gone home to his condo. He was in a worse mood than his client. But since he was getting paid big bucks to cater to the man, he’d given in.
“I warned you this would be nasty,” Collier said at last. “That you’d get pummeled on the stand.”
“That’s a fucking understatement.”
Collier sat with drink in hand and watched Luther pace like a madman. “If you don’t settle down, you’re going to have an attack of some sort.”
“That might just solve all my fucking problems.”
“Man, you are on a rampage,” Collier said, striving to keep his tone even. However, he was fast losing patience.
“Do you think I’ll get out of this with my hide intact?”
“I believe we’ll win.”
Luther’s relief was obvious. “So you still think I’m innocent?”
“In this particular case, I do. But that’s beside the point. I’ve agreed to represent you, and I’ll give it my best shot.”
“But you don’t like me, do you?”
“That’s also beside the point.”
“Not to me it isn’t.”
Collier downed the rest of his drink and stood. “Look, Luther, don’t expect me to be your buddy or to hold your hand. You’re a skirt chaser, a fact you’ve never denied. But sooner or later, when a man gets his pussy and his paycheck in the same place, he’s going to get in trouble.”
Luther flushed; then his eyes narrowed. “I told you—”
“I’m not saying you screwed Virginia Warner. I happen to agree with you. She wants your job, and she sees this suit as a way to get it. Having said that, we both know you’ve slept with several other women in the office, which is exactly why your balls are now in the wringer.”
“Just as long as you get them out.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Luther reached into his pocket and pulled out a white linen handkerchief, then mopped the sweat off his face. “I hope you’ve got your guns loaded for her.”
“I keep them loaded. Isn’t that why you hired me?”
“You’re damn straight it is.”
“Then give it a rest, and let me take care of things.”
Luther paused and angled his head. “You haven’t given thought to jumping ship, have you?”
Collier went still. “What made you ask that?”
“All the adverse publicity this case has generated. Like those picketers, for instance. I know that can’t help with the judgeship you’re vying for.”
“You let me worry about that,” Collier said tersely.
“I don’t want to be pawned off on anyone else.”
Collier set his glass down harder than he normally would have. “I’m out of here before you piss me off.”
Luther’s flush deepened. “Sorry, it’s just that—” He stopped, as if he didn’t know what to say.
“Forget it. Just remember what I said from the get-go. Keep your mouth shut and your pants zipped.”
Luther opened his mouth, then snapped it shut.
Collier reached for his overcoat. “If there’s nothing else—” He broke off, his gaze and tone pointed.
Luther growled, then strode over to the bar and began to mix another stiff drink. Collier merely shook his head as he walked out.
What a miserable bastard.
He wasn’t in much better shape, he reminded himself a while later when he let himself into his empty condo. After his conversation with Luther, he hadn’t really wanted to come home, yet he hadn’t wanted to go back to the office, either.
Maybe he should have stuck around Brickman’s house and gotten belly-crawling drunk with him. Was that the answer to ridding his thoughts of Brittany? Right now, he’d do almost anything, whatever it took, to make her stop haunting him.
Although it was chilly outside, Collier could have sworn it was chillier inside. He shivered as he strode to the fireplace filled with gas logs and switched them on. Instantly the flames seemed to reach out and lick him. He loosened his tie, made himself a drink, then collapsed on the sofa.
Had it been a week since that god-awful day? Since he’d last seen her?
He’d felt like a turkey that had just gotten its head chopped off when she’d told him who her brother was. He still found that incredible. How could he have been so blind?
How could he not have known, for chrissake?
He’d go one better than that. Why the hell had he ever gotten involved with her in the first place? He’d known it would be trouble, even if not what particular kind of trouble. His sexual hunger for her had consumed him, that was why.
Disgust rose like bile up the back of his throat, nearly strangling him. He took another swig of his drink. If he took many more swigs, his pain would simply disappear. Tempting? You bet. Only he knew when he awakened, he would still be crippled with the same pain.
He put his glass down and sank back against the pillows, feeling his head pound. Thank God he’d found out who Brittany was before his father and brother learned about his little liaison.
Needless to say, Mason would have disowned him. And Jackson—well, he couldn’t begin to imagine what his brother’s reaction would be. But Fate had done him a favor, allowing him to dodge both those lethal bullets and giving him a chance to get his head on straight and his life back in order.
Then why was he as miserable as that sonofabitch whose house he’d just left? Simple. The brutal truth had done what he couldn’t do himself, and that was sever their relationship. He still ached for her.
What did that say about him?
The answer to that question further disgusted him. He got up and made his way back
to the bottle of booze. Going on a binge just might be what he needed to get through the night after all.
If not, he was likely to do something he would regret for the rest of his life, and that was haul his ass back outside, jump in his car and head for Brittany’s trailer.
“To hell with it!” He shoved the glass aside and raised the bottle to his mouth.
Twenty-Two
“Hello, Senator, it’s great to see you again.”
Collier’s stomach had clenched when Pamela told him Newton Riley had stopped by. He’d had mixed emotions, realizing that a visit from the high-powered senator, who held his future in his hands, could bode either good or bad. He preferred to dwell on the former. For the time being, he didn’t need any more bumps in the road.
“Same here,” the senator responded, shaking Collier’s outstretched hand vigorously, his beefy size seeming to shrink the large room.
If nothing else, Collier noted, that size alone commanded respect. “Have a seat and I’ll get you some coffee or whatever.”
He suspected Riley would pass on the whatever, since it was still too early in the day to hit the booze. But one never knew.
“Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t have but a sec.”
“So what’s on your mind?” Collier asked in as casual a manner as possible, since his stomach remained clenched.
“You’ve made it to the top two.”
At first Collier didn’t grasp the meaning of the words. The senator had spoken them so nonchalantly, as if he was commenting on how nice the day was.
“Pretty heady stuff, huh?” Senator Riley went on.
“It sure as hell is.” Collier blew out a breath, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. “And I can’t thank you enough.”
The senator chuckled. “You sound shocked, but you shouldn’t be.”
“Well, I am. And honored and humbled.”
“The committee is who actually narrowed the list.”
While that might be true, Collier knew Riley had his eye on every move that committee made. He had helped to appoint it, and so in one sense they were responsible to him.
“If I may ask, who’s my competition?”
Riley told him. Collier winced inwardly. Travis Wainwright, Rupert Holt’s man, had made the cut. Mason wouldn’t be happy, but then, neither was he.
“However,” the senator continued, his green eyes piercing, “there is a problem.”
“With me?”
“With you.”
Collier’s stomach bottomed out. Terrific, here comes the bombshell. “Let me guess.” The two most controversial problems facing him were Brittany and the harassment case. He hoped and prayed Riley was referring to the latter. Sweat broke out on his upper lip. He wanted to wipe it off, but he didn’t. Instead, he remained unflinching under Riley’s intent gaze.
“It shouldn’t be hard to figure out.”
“The sexual harassment case,” Collier said, a little embarrassed by the relief in his tone.
“You nailed it.”
“I’m in trouble because of the publicity it’s garnered.” Collier’s words were a flat statement of fact.
“Let me put it this way,” Riley said, leaning forward, as though to better make his point, “it would be to your advantage if nothing else like that happened again. In fact, it would be even more to your advantage if it was settled out of court or ended quickly.”
“I can’t guarantee either, Senator.”
Riley scratched his perfectly shaven chin, then narrowed his eyes. “If someone should come to you and ask for a favor, would you comply?”
Collier stiffened, not liking the sudden tone of this conversation or where it was heading. “Might that someone be you, Senator?”
“Maybe, maybe not.” Riley paused and scratched his chin again. “Perhaps I should put it this way, if you’ll pardon my slang. If you were asked to dance with the one who brung you, what would you say?”
Collier didn’t flinch. “I’d say it’s too bad he’s looking for a whore.”
The room turned eerily quiet.
Collier squirmed mentally, though he didn’t let his unsettled emotions show. He’d already made it clear he would do everything he could to win the appointment to the best of his ability, no matter what. But that “no matter what” didn’t mean prostituting himself to anyone. He would never do that.
Suddenly Newton Riley laughed heartily, then got to his feet. “I have to admire you for sticking by your guns, young man. So few do that nowadays.”
Collier rose, as well, and squared his shoulders. “That’s who I am, Senator. I don’t see that ever changing.”
A short silence descended over the room. Collier could hear the clock ticking on his desk, or was that the sound of his heart? Had he passed the test? Or could he still get the proverbial kiss-off?
“That’s why you’re still in the running,” Riley said with conviction. “The bench needs men like you. Men with integrity.”
Collier figured his relief was visible, but he didn’t care. He’d just jumped another hurdle. “So I was being tested?”
Riley merely laughed again, then said, “Before I go, answer me one more question.” The senator’s eyes were narrowed on him once again.
Collier swallowed hard. “I’ll do my best.”
“Why did you take that case? Other than the money, that is?” The senator’s sudden smile softened his bluntness.
“I think my client’s innocent.”
“You do, huh?”
Collier didn’t so much as blink. “In this particular case, yes.”
“Brickman has a reputation with women, always has. I know, because he’s been a friend for years.”
“True,” Collier replied carefully, “but despite that, I believe in this particular case, he’s innocent.”
“Well, good luck, young man.” Suddenly Riley’s eyes twinkled. “In the midst of all this controversy, it wouldn’t hurt for you to be seen out somewhere kissing babies. It might even warm those feminists’ hearts toward you.”
Collier’s lips twitched. “Yes, sir. I’ll see what I can do about that.”
“I’ll be in touch. Oh, and give Mason my regards.”
“I’ll do it, and thanks for coming by.”
Once they shook hands, Riley left and Collier was alone. He sat back down, feeling as if he’d gone down for the count, only to be revived at the last minute. But he wasn’t out of the woods yet, he cautioned himself. Now was not the time for smugness, though he did feel Riley was definitely in his corner.
Still, if this case took another unexpected turn or word got out about his affair with Brittany…
Feeling the sweat spread to other parts of his body, Collier nipped those thoughts in the bud posthaste, especially that last one.
Suddenly he felt the urge to see his brother. Whenever he felt sorry for himself, visiting Jackson seemed to jerk him back in line, put things in perspective, renew his deep sense of responsibility.
Though the guilt over his affair with Brittany was certainly part of that package today, he still needed to be grounded, to keep his eye on the target, which was the federal appointment. Nothing must stand in the way of that.
Collier gritted his teeth and got up.
“Anything else you need, sir?”
Harry, his valet, seemed to be hovering more today than usual, which irritated Jackson no end. Some days he could actually tolerate Harry’s mollycoddling, but today wasn’t one of them. He wanted to be alone.
“No, thanks.”
As if he sensed Jackson’s mood, the hefty middle-aged man, who had been a weight lifter before he came to work part-time for Jackson, said, “I’ll be in the gym setting things up for your workout and therapy. When you’re ready, just buzz.”
Jackson nodded. Moments later he heard the door close, and he suddenly regretted being left alone. What the hell was wrong with him? He knew the answer, and he didn’t like it one damn bit.
She never should have
come and upset his applecart. He’d been fine the way he was, content to wallow in self-pity and remain apart from the outside world.
Haley’s unscheduled visit had changed that, though he hated to admit it.
Would she come back?
Jackson cursed inwardly as he turned his chair away from the window and rolled it toward one of the bookcases that bordered the fireplace. He hadn’t read in a while. Maybe that would be a good thing to do. He turned his head toward the French doors, noticing how perfect the day was, thinking how nice it would be to sit outside.
Only if he had some company.
Don’t! He had to stop doing that to himself. Haley was the last person he should want to see again. There wouldn’t be any point. He still didn’t want her pity, although he hadn’t seen any of that in her eyes. He’d have to give her that much. If she had pitied him, she hadn’t let it show. Most people were not that considerate.
Still, he couldn’t start hankering for something he couldn’t have. And that was a woman. Despite himself, he smiled when he thought for at least the hundredth time how lovely Haley was, how vivacious, how full of life.
“Hey, big brother.”
Jackson snapped his head around. He’d been so lost in thoughts of Haley that he hadn’t heard the door open. “You should knock,” he said in a quarrelsome tone.
“Only to have you tell me to take a hike? I don’t think so.”
Jackson frowned, but down deep, he was glad to see his brother. Actually, he sometimes felt sorry for Collier, having to carry the burden alone of living up to their father’s expectations and dreams, a tall order for anyone to fill.
“Besides,” Collier added, “I wanted to see you.”
Jackson cut him a look. “As long as you don’t lecture me.”
“Come on,” Collier countered in a cajoling voice, “give me a break. You know I don’t hassle you all that much. Dad does enough of that for both of us.”
“For the whole damn world,” Jackson muttered.
Collier chuckled.
Jackson pulled at a loose thread on the throw covering his legs. “So what’s on your mind?”
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