Legal Heat

by Sarah Castille

  His shadow darkened the doorway. “It’s still half my house, even though the judge gave you possession. I shouldn’t have to knock if I want to see my own kids.”

  He leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms. He had aged in the year since the divorce. His salt-and-pepper hair now sported streaks of gray, and his once-lean muscles had softened. Still handsome, but the steel blue eyes and chiseled jaw, captivating to the young, impressionable, eighteen-year-old girl she had once been, no longer held any appeal. Now, after meeting Mark, he looked…average.

  She slammed the file into her briefcase. “He gave me the house because the kids live with me. If you recall, the judge thought the constant stream of young interns in your bed created an unsuitable lifestyle for raising children.”

  Steven held up his hands in a gesture of mock surrender. “We’ve been through this already. I offered to go for counseling, but you’re the one who decided to rip the family apart.”

  “I ripped the family apart?” Katy clenched her teeth and drew in a ragged breath. “I endured your affairs so our kids could have the stable family I never had and you left me anyway…for an intern.” She closed her briefcase with a bang. “Now you blame me because I’m the one who filed for the divorce. Unbelievable.”

  “Sally left.” He said the two words without emotion or remorse.

  “Oh, God.” Katy looked away to hide her horror. “So now you want to come back, is that it?”

  He walked across the room and put his hands on her shoulders. “Kate, it was just a blip. A minor diversion. I needed to release some stress and Sally was there for me when you were busy working. It never changed how I felt about our family. I want us back together. For the kids.”

  Katy shuddered and wriggled out of his grasp. “I’ve heard this all before. You apologize. You promise it won’t happen again. Then you’re in bed with the next young intern who catches your eye. I won’t go through it again. That was supposed to be your takeaway message when I filed the divorce petition.”

  “The message I got was that you were stressed because of that big corporate espionage trial and you took it out on me by filing the petition. But I understand and I’m willing to forgive you. We all get stressed sometimes.”

  Katy closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath. Stay cool. Stay calm. He’s baiting you. Don’t give him the satisfaction of a response.

  “I have an important hearing at ten o’clock and I have to go.” She picked up her briefcase and squeezed the handle so tight her knuckles turned white. “If you don’t take the kids now, they’ll be late.”

  He shrugged.

  “You are here to take the kids to school, aren’t you? It’s your day to take them.” She closed her eyes, dreading his response.

  Steven shook his head. “I’m in surgery this morning. I just came by to let you know that since Sally is gone—she left last night—I’ll be visiting more often to see the kids…and you.”

  Katy’s eyes widened. “She only left last night and you’re already trying to come back? You’ve sunk to a new low.” Bile rose in her stomach as she contemplated the upcoming weeks of trying to fend off Steven’s attempts to insinuate himself into her life.

  She pushed past him, calling for Melissa and Justin. She had just enough time to get them to school, but it would be touch and go with the examination for discovery.

  Steven gave her ponytail a quick, casual tug as she stalked away, winking when she glared over her shoulder.

  “Later, Kate.”

  Katy shuddered. His assault had only begun.

  Martha Saunders, divorced and now unemployed, smiled when Katy introduced herself. In her faded black suit, white blouse, sensible pumps and tidy, bleached blonde bob, Martha resembled a middle-aged accountant and not a thirty-three year old laboratory technician. But being with Steven had taught Katy never to judge by appearance alone. Who would have known her mature, handsome, attentive surgeon would turn out to be a distant, pathologically self-absorbed, financially irresponsible philanderer?

  “I’m sorry our meeting has to be so brief, but I only got your file yesterday and this morning I had an unexpected delay.” Katy motioned for her new client to sit down. She hated the stuffy, windowless counsel rooms in the Vancouver Law Courts, but they were private and Steven’s untimely visit meant they didn’t have time for the comprehensive meeting she had originally planned to have at her office.

  Katy took her seat and pulled out her file, skimming through the papers Martha’s previous solicitor had provided. “This looks like a pretty clear case of wrongful dismissal. I’ve read all your outstanding performance reviews, employee awards and the statements from your colleagues about your dedication to the company. As I understand it, the CEO, Darkon Steele, just called you into the office one day, fired you and had a security guard march you out with your box of belongings. Is that right?”

  Martha pulled a tissue from her purse and dabbed behind her gold-rimmed glasses. “Not quite. He fired me after I tried to report the company to the regulators.”

  Katy raised an eyebrow. “Whistle-blowing? What did you allege they were doing?”

  “Falsifying data and reports about a new drug.”

  “Those are pretty serious allegations. Did you have any proof?”

  Martha stared down at her hands and twisted her watch around her wrist. “I gave the regulators a sample of the drug and a few documents I had found, but the really incriminating evidence was hidden away.”

  She sniffed and a tear trickled down her cheek. Katy looked up at the clock. Her pulse sped up and she silently willed Martha to hurry.

  “It’s okay, Martha, go on.”

  “The regulators didn’t believe me.” Martha swallowed and wiped away another tear. “Or maybe they did but Mr. Steele bought them all off. The drug will probably be the biggest thing to come out of North America in the last few years.”

  Katy jotted a few notes on her paper and motioned for Martha to keep talking.

  Martha shrugged. “There isn’t much more to say. I filed a report, and then the regulators sent a few people to interview me. They promised it would all be confidential and my name would never be released. A few weeks later, Mr. Steele called me into his office and fired me. He said I had been in the building after hours, which isn’t true.”

  “You were never in the building after hours?”

  “Well, once I went in because I had forgotten my purse, but I had to go through security before I went to my office so it wasn’t like I was sneaking around.”

  Katy studied Martha’s face but didn’t see any hint of deception. “Did you talk to the regulators again to let them know you had been fired shortly after you reported the company?”

  Martha nodded. “They said they had investigated and couldn’t substantiate my complaints. They also said they never released my name to Hi-Tech. I didn’t believe them.”

  Katy checked her watch. She hadn’t recognized the name of the partner listed on the pleadings as defense counsel and couldn’t assume he would be amenable to a late start. Usually she researched her opposition and strategized accordingly, but in this instance she just hadn’t had the time.

  “So you think you were dismissed because Steele found out about the whistle-blowing?”

  Martha nodded. “Mr. Steele also accused me of being a corporate spy when he dismissed me, but I think he was just fishing for an excuse. I was a good employee. He had no reason to let me go.”

  Her impassioned words left Katy in no doubt Martha would be a convincing witness. She came across as open, honest and without guile. Sometimes a good witness made it worth the risk to up the stakes in a strong case. “I think we might be able to establish an ulterior motive for your dismissal and make a substantial punitive damage claim.”

  Martha leaned forward. “It’s not about the money. It’s about getting enough evidence to make the regulators believe me. Hi-Tech has to be shut down. The drug has very serious side effects. I don’t want anyone to get
hurt.”

  Not about the money? Given the high cost of litigation and the time and effort required to run a case through to trial, it was always about the money. She had seen Martha’s tax returns and her client was far from wealthy. Either Martha was the most altruistic person she had ever met, or there was more to the case than she had revealed.

  “We have a fairly wide scope for requesting documents and interviewing witnesses,” Katy said. “I’ll go on a little fishing expedition to see what we can turn up.”

  Martha smiled and dried her eyes. “It’s nice to finally have someone in my corner—someone who believes me.”

  Maybe. Maybe not. Katy knew better than to take her client’s story at face value. But given her uncertainty about opposing counsel, a more detailed examination of Martha’s story would have to wait.

  “We’ll have to finish up later. I’ve got enough to make Mr. Steele squirm for a few hours, and we can always drag him in again if something unexpected turns up in the discovery today.”

  “There’s something else you should know,” Martha blurted out.

  “I’m sorry,” Katy said, genuinely contrite. “We’re out of time.”

  Seven minutes to ten.

  Mark tapped his pen on the table, matching the rhythm of the ticking clock.

  His client, Darkon Steele, frowned. “I hope we aren’t kept waiting much longer. This discovery is already a waste of my valuable time.”

  “I’ll make sure plaintiff’s counsel is aware we intend to finish on time even if we start late,” Mark said. Anything to ensure the CEO of his firm’s biggest client, Hi-Tech Pharmaceuticals, continued to send work his way. He needed a win on this case to secure Hi-Tech’s business and his firm’s future.

  Steele leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “I’ll just tell the plaintiff’s lawyer his client is a corporate spy and belongs in jail, not running around launching frivolous civil suits. We’ll be done in five minutes.”

  Mark sighed. With Steele already defensive and angry, he could imagine how the discovery would go. “You’ll do no such thing. You’ll speak only to answer the questions opposing counsel asks, and your answers will be as brief and as succinct as possible. If you say anything inappropriate, it will affect your credibility and could damage our defense at trial. You’ll be under oath and the court reporter will transcribe everything. Isn’t that right, Tim? ”

  Tim Daniels, one of Vancouver’s most sought-after court reporters, turned on his computer and gave Mark a nod.

  “That’s right. Everything is recorded, even coughs and pauses.” Tim rubbed his hand through his thatch of red hair and flashed a smile. “Bible okay, Mr. Steele, or do you wish to affirm?”

  “No Bible.”

  Tim nodded. “I’ll get the affirmation sheet ready.”

  Steele spun his pen across his thumb without taking his eyes off Mark. “So what do you do while I’m answering the barrage of questions?”

  “My job is to object to questions that aren’t relevant, or are in any way inappropriate, privileged or prejudicial. There’s a lot more to it in terms of tactics, but I won’t bore you.”

  “Good. That’s what I pay you for.” Steele slicked down his neatly cut black hair. With his cold, dark eyes, heavy features and shiny, black Italian suit, he had the look of a gangster. Not far from the truth. The savvy, ruthless, hard-edged businessman didn’t hesitate to take risks or bend the rules to get ahead. But he relied on Mark to keep things legal.

  Tim excused himself to find an affirmation sheet. Cool air rushed into the stuffy, windowless boardroom as he hurried out the door.

  “Speaking of money, how’s the firm doing?” Steele leaned back in his chair and folded his arms.

  A loaded question. Steele knew how the firm was doing. The recession had hit litigation boutiques hard, and law firms all over the city were scrambling over the few clients with the capital to run the long and expensive courtroom battles that were a litigator’s bread and butter.

  “Fine.” Mark had no interest in getting involved in a discussion about the firm’s financial struggles. Steele knew he was the sole reason Richards & Moretti had not folded like so many other firms. He just wanted to rub it in.

  Just like Tony.

  The barrage of questions he had had to endure both in the club following Katy’s departure and on Monday morning at the office had made him rethink his decision to run a second business with his fellow partner.

  Mark flipped open his file and tried to shut out any thoughts about Carpe Noctem. Too late. His betraying mind had already conjured up images of Katy. He could still feel her soft curves under his palm and her warm skin under his lips. If he breathed in deeply, he could even smell the faintest trace of her perfume. Had he pushed too hard? If he had shown some restraint, would she have run away?

  Tim returned with the affirmation sheet. “I didn’t see opposing counsel, but I’m sure she’ll be here on time. The Wildcat is never late.”

  “Opposing counsel is a woman?” Steele smirked. “And she’s called the Wildcat?”

  Mark frowned. Although common for members of the Vancouver litigation community to give each other nicknames, only the best and brightest were singled out for the dubious accolade. He thought he knew every nicknamed litigation partner in the city, but he had never heard of the Wildcat.

  “Katherine Sinclair,” Tim said in response to Mark’s quizzical look. “She’s an associate lawyer at Knight and Frank, which is why you wouldn’t have heard of her. They’ve only just started pitting her against partners.”

  Steele laughed. “An associate? With Mark on the other side? He’ll have this case wrapped up before lunch.”

  “Why would her firm put an associate on such a high-profile case?” Mark’s frown deepened. Any lawsuit involving Hi-Tech, no matter how small, would be big news and big news meant big business. The kind of business usually handled by a partner.

  Tim leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “Not my place to tell.”

  The door behind Mark opened with a bang. A rush of cool air ruffled his papers, carrying with it the scent of lilies.

  Two sets of heels tapped across the tiled floor.

  The game had begun.

  Mark scribbled nonsense on his notepad, resisting the urge to turn around. The first few minutes of any legal hearing were critical for establishing control of the room. And he specialized in control.

  He waited until he heard a chair slide and then looked up; ready to feast his eyes on the Wildcat associate and put her in her place.

  Katy.

  His pen dropped to the table with a soft thud. Shock gripped him and wouldn’t let go. Blood pounded through his veins as he fought a losing battle to keep his face impassive and his body still.

  He drank in the sight of her, his hungry gaze missing nothing. Her stiff wool suit did little to hide the sweet curves underneath. Firm, full breasts, gently molded by her fine, white silk blouse. Rounded hips hugged by a pencil skirt, nipping her trim waist. Long, slim fingers clutching a file folder, knuckles white.

  Their gazes met and locked, sweeping him back to the crushing disappointment of discovering her gone, and a weekend of unfulfilled fantasies.

  He had a sudden desire to wrench her hair free and let the silken waterfall cascade down her back. Tear off her jacket. Shred the thin white blouse. Push that tight skirt up to her waist…

  Maybe not such a good idea.

  He would ask her out for coffee.

  Better.

  Then he would take her to his bed, draw those plump lips into his mouth and kiss her until she writhed under his body and begged him for…

  No.

  Although their brief encounter was unlikely to give rise to a conflict of interest, it was as far as they could go while they opposed each other on the same case.

  Mark shook his head, trying to chase away the onslaught of erotic images and focus on the legal proceeding and the room full of people waiting for him to engage in the proper
social conventions. But his brain and body had a disconnect.

  He could almost see her pulse throbbing in the sweet spot at the base of her neck.

  How would she taste if he licked her now?

  No, no, no. Not him.

  Katy dropped her books on the table with a bang. Beside her, Martha jumped. Hundreds of lawyers in the city, and the man who seduced her had to be opposing counsel on the most important case of her career.

  Or had she seduced him?

  Get a grip, Katy. But her throat had seized up and she couldn’t speak. His gaze drew her in and the world fell away.

  She flushed as his gaze traveled the length of her body with a slow, arrogant sweep, baring her just as surely as he had done in the club, roaming where his hands had touched. Heat seared through her at the memory of every caress.

  Masculine approval flashed in his eyes.

  She frowned at his continued scrutiny. Did he expect some kind of emotional response? A gasp of horror, perhaps, or a quiver of fear?

  Well, get used to disappointment. She locked away her emotional turmoil, forced her lips into a smile and held out her hand. “Katherine Sinclair, for the plaintiff.”

  He rose from his chair and rounded the table. Strong, muscular legs carried him toward her until he stood only inches away. Confident. Calm. He showed no hint of disquiet or surprise at her presence.

  She couldn’t take her eyes off him. In his impeccable wool suit and blue silk tie, he embodied the man of her fantasies. Tall and devastatingly handsome. Powerful and in control. She caught the familiar scent of spice and sandalwood.

  Hot. Sexy. Her mouth watered.

  Stop it.

  She gritted her teeth and stared at her…opponent. All that stood between her and the partnership dream. If she didn’t keep that clearly in her mind, she would lose everything she had worked so hard to achieve.

  “Mark Richards, for the defendant.” He shook her hand; his thumb brushed over the sensitive underside of her wrist drawing a sharp breath from her lips. His slow, deliberate stroke sent her senses into overdrive.