Charade

by Jamison, Jade C.

  Like a petulant child, she wanted to tell him she was ready to go home, that she no longer wished to play house anymore, but they were at the waitress’ mercy. Soon enough, she brought the check on a flimsy piece of white thermal paper. Brock pulled out his credit card while the waitress cleared a few dishes and promised to be right back.

  Erica could sense that Brock, being no idiot, knew she was upset with him and she didn’t care. She couldn’t understand how someone could turn his humanity off and on like that. How could he seem sweet and loveable one minute, a monster the next? What was she missing?

  In her heart, she knew the answer. This man, the one who’d destroyed the cop named Judd Fleming, the one who’d unapologetically told his cousin it was all in a day’s work, the one who was lying to his parents about a sham engagement just so he could get his fair piece of the pie—that was the real Brock. And so the guy she thought she was in love with—he was a figment of her imagination.

  Rather, he was a crafted version of a better self that Brock had no intention of becoming. And Erica had just exposed her heart to him—for no good reason and certainly no good outcome.

  Once the bill was paid, they made their way out of the cavernous restaurant, not talking, not discussing, because there was nothing to say. Erica didn’t wait for Brock to hold the door for her, instead storming out before he could get there. She wouldn’t have much of a choice when they got to the car, because he’d need to unlock it first, but she was making a statement. By the time they were on the road and he was driving Erica back to her apartment, he said, “It’s easy to point fingers when you’ve never been in that position. When you defend a person accused of a crime, Erica, you have to do everything in your power to save their skin. You exploit the weaknesses of the other party. In that particular case, if I recall correctly, Fleming had just had another questionable incident happen at work a month or so earlier, one involving a gun. I don’t think all cops are bad guys, honey, and I don’t think Fleming necessarily was, but I did wonder—out loud—if he should have been on the streets. Had he never had to enter a courtroom, I wouldn’t have had to assess his competency as a cop, but as my client’s attorney, I had to put him through the wringer. So I did.”

  Erica could no longer hold her tongue. “But what did you say that made him lose his zeal for his job? It sounds like the guy’s just a shell now.”

  “I just hold up a mirror, Erica. If they don’t like the reflection, it’s their problem.”

  Well…she was being forced to look at her own reflection now and she didn’t much like it—and she had a few decisions to grapple with before the sun came up.

  Chapter Sixteen

  BROCK HADN’T SLEPT a wink throughout the night, and it was because of that stupid little thing called a conscience. The damn thing had never bothered him before, so what the hell was the point now?

  Of all the words Erica’s friend Gary had said last night, the ones that had stuck with Brock the most were when he’d told Erica she could come work for his company so she could sleep better at night. He’d scoffed at those words last night but this morning? Not so much.

  He knew two things were part of the equation at the moment. The first was that he’d never viewed Fleming the cop as a human being before. That perspective was a skill he’d had to acquire and hone, because viewing the other side as people with feelings made him less of a shark with killer instincts. The second was pretty fucking stupid…but it was that he hated disappointing Erica. To see how disgusted she looked wrecked him.

  But throughout the night, he’d grappled with all those things and, though he was exhausted by four-thirty that morning, he knew what he had to do to make all things right. Whether or not it was too late to recapture Erica’s heart was immaterial. And whether or not his father approved didn’t matter. It was time to practice his craft in a new way—and if that didn’t fit with his firm’s goals, maybe he’d ask Gary for that corporate lawyer position.

  But, first, he had a few things to rectify…

  * * *

  Erica awoke to dreary gray skies. By the time she left her apartment, she could tell that flakes were going to start falling sometime throughout the day, but for now some kind of storm had stalled overhead and was camping out, keeping the city dark, foreboding, and gloomy—and why not? It matched the dreariness of her heart.

  But she knew what she had to do now. She put on a black pantsuit and, in spite of her mood, paired it with a pink blouse, and she arrived at work early. First, she went to Brock’s office, because she’d intended to break the news to him before anyone else—but he wasn’t there. Harriet said Brock had told her he would be in later than usual, but he wasn’t in court that day. She wasn’t sure where he was, but he was the boss, so he made the rules.

  “Can I leave something for him in his office?”

  “Of course.”

  Had Harriet known what Erica planned to leave, she might have questioned it.

  Then Erica spent the next two hours packing up her office and getting it ready for whomever would pick up where she left off. She organized the case files she’d been working on, writing long notes as to what she’d done so that any of the paralegals or other attorneys could pick up where she left off without having to backtrack or sift through information too much.

  She sipped another cup of coffee, gazing out her third-story window to see the first few flakes falling from the fluffy clouds hanging low. Once her cup was drained, she headed to Brock’s office one last time in hopes of catching him, but he still wasn’t there. She sent him a text then, letting him know that she was giving her notice and, since he wasn’t around, she was going to give it to his dad. She’d wanted him to be a part of it but she wasn’t going to wait all day.

  She’d made up her mind and now it was time to act.

  As an afterthought, she added, I hope things work out for you, your family, and the future of the firm, but I can no longer work for you. I’m leaving the ring on your desk.

  She was past judging or examining, but she needed to do something for her life for good—and she now knew that Ford & Associates was not the place for it, so it was time to move on. What came next in her life? She didn’t know. She was pretty sure she wanted to keep her apartment, stay in the big city, do good things here, but her job was going to be elsewhere.

  Dropping the cell phone in her purse that sat in the big bottom drawer of her desk, she stood, smoothing back her hair, and then grabbed the folded piece of paper off her desk before walking into the big hallway. Brady Ford’s office was to the right at the end of the hall, taking up most of that side of the building. She’d never been in there but had heard rumors and, after sitting in Bret’s office many a time and dropping her jaw at the expanse, she had no idea what to expect from Daddy Ford’s office. Hell, she didn’t even know if he would see her—but it was a chance she had to take. She’d fretted and considered talking to Bret, her old boss, but finally decided that only the guy in charge of the whole shebang would do. It didn’t matter that he was giving up the reins sometime in the near future. He was the big guy right now and so he was the man she needed to speak with.

  The man’s secretary was probably considering retirement as well, Erica thought as she approached the woman with the giant desk, computer, and old-fashioned typewriter tucked on a side table. However, the woman knew her own importance and she eyed Erica over the top of her glasses as if scrutinizing everything about her.

  Talk about feeling like you were under a magnifying glass…

  “Can I help you?”

  Why this woman intimidated Erica, she didn’t know. All she could figure was it was because she was nervous about what she was about to do. But she mustered up every last bit of confidence she felt before opening her mouth. “I wondered if I could talk with Mr. Ford for a few moments.”

  His secretary arched an eyebrow. “Do you have an appointment?”

  Of course—because, if she’d learned anything from Brock over the past couple of mont
hs, it was that time was money. The time she would take with Brady Ford would not be billable—and, therefore, not important, according to the firm’s standards. “It won’t take much time, but—”

  Bret opened the door to his father’s office from the inside, dark brown coffee mug in hand, and said, “Erica, what a pleasant surprise. Ever since Brock stole you away from me, I’ve hardly gotten to see you.”

  What? Was this her former boss? Had he ever treated her this warmly before?

  She forced herself to smile and said, “I know. It’s been a while.”

  “So what are you doing in this neck of the woods?”

  Ha. So she wasn’t going to have to go through the gatekeeper—if she was lucky. “I was hoping to talk to your father for a few minutes.”

  “What about? Anything I can help with?”

  Might as well be honest. “Um…my future with the firm…and the wedding.”

  Bret raised his eyebrows and got a clue. Nodding, he said, “I think that can be arranged. Mind if I sit in, considering dad’s handing the firm over to us soon?”

  “No, that’s fine,” especially if it meant she’d get the audience now.

  Bret peeked his head in the door. “Dad, got a few more minutes?”

  “Yes, son.”

  Opening the door farther, he said, “Erica is here to see us.”

  “Ah, Erica. So nice to see you,” the elder Ford said, standing up, his hands outstretched to greet her. “If only all my daughters-in-law wished to practice law. What a firm we’d have.”

  Well…he was in for a major disappointment.

  “Please…have a seat.” Erica was pretty sure the secretary was possibly seething now because not only did she get an audience with Mr. Ford, but she got a front row seat, and the man didn’t seem to be in any huge hurry to get her out of there.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t feel up to visiting for too terribly long. Brady Ford, looking like a sweet and kindly man she might see in the park hunting around for a chess partner—except in a suit and tie instead of a sweater and jaunty cap—said, “What can I do for you today?”

  Erica inhaled a deep breath, as if to fortify herself, and then she blew it out. Bret, a joking tone in his voice, noticed and said, “That sounds pretty serious.”

  Erica nodded. “Actually, it kind of is.” How could she word this so that she could keep her end of the bargain—of keeping her supposed fiancé’s secret safe? Just because Brock had no integrity didn’t mean she didn’t. Yes, she’d participated in the deception of his family but now she regretted it, because—overall, in spite of their foibles and despite her own distrust of wealthy folks—they seemed like decent enough people. And, while she thought making sure every client had a decent attorney who worked hard for them was a noble idea, Brock had seemed to cross a line somewhere and she wasn’t sure where that was. In a way, that was frightening, and she didn’t want to start sliding down that slippery slope. Erica most definitely knew the kind of lawyer she wanted to be—and Brock wasn’t teaching her that.

  And, although she knew they’d let her, she definitely didn’t want to go back to doing nothing but research. Ugh.

  “I’m not sure where to start…except to say that I don’t think my employment here with Ford & Associates is working out.”

  The elder Mr. Ford asked, “Why not? Is there something that’s not working for you?”

  “Well—”

  “We can’t afford to lose a mind as sharp as yours. If you’re concerned about any wayward accusations of nepotism, we can quash them. In fact, we can completely separate you and Brock so as to avoid even the appearance of any type of favoritism.”

  “I appreciate that, sir, but that’s not all of it.”

  “Oh?”

  Bret had hardly spoken a word, but he was definitely rapt in her words.

  “Uh…about Brock…”

  And what would she even say about him?

  “Brock is—”

  The intercom buzzed and Mr. Ford said, “I’m sorry. One moment.”

  He pushed on a button and the hollow sounding voice came through the speakers. “Brock said he needs to speak with—wait!”

  His secretary’s voice continued, wavering between yelling and trying to stay calm, as Brock himself burst through the door, also not waiting for the almighty gatekeeper secretary to hand him the key.

  Brady raised both eyebrows and crossed his hands in front of him on the desk. Erica couldn’t help but notice an amused twinkle in the older man’s eyes. “Ah, my son. Why do I get the feeling you know why your fiancée is here?”

  Brock barely looked at his father and then Bret, as if his eyes could apologize—but that was exactly what he was trying to do. “Erica, I just need five minutes before you do anything rash.”

  “Too late.”

  “No, it’s not too late. You’re not out the door yet…so, please, give me five minutes.”

  Giving him what he asked for was a stupid idea—and yet she felt compelled by this charismatic devilish man. She sighed and then said, “Fine—but no playing Mr. Defense Attorney with me. You try it once and I’m out of here.”

  His genuine eyes quelled her suspicions. “Last night…what you said really resonated with me. You shined a harsh light inside my soul, Erica, exposing all my demons, all my dark secrets—and it was ugly. Sometimes, I’m too good at my job and it’s at the expense of others.

  “So when I got up this morning, I did a little research—and instead of coming to the office, I met Judd Fleming.” Erica raised her eyebrows but let him continue talking. “Like your friend said last night, he’s working a desk at the PD—and, at first, he refused to see me, but I managed to meet with him. He still had a lot of anger—toward me—but we had a long talk and, whether he forgave me or not, I apologized.”

  Erica wasn’t convinced nor impressed. “Good for you. Your karma score is no doubt better.” She took a deep breath before adding, “And how do we know you’re not just saying that? We have no way to verify your claims.”

  Brock’s classic smirk lit up his face. Dammit, he was still so good looking, it made her stomach muscles clench. “Actually, you do. See, Judd and I went out for breakfast, and I felt so bad, like I’d ruined the man…but somehow we moved past all the anger and frustration and just talked like two men resolving a grievance should—and I wound up hiring him to be a full-time investigator for Ford & Associates.”

  That was when Brock’s father stepped in. “Wait a minute, son. You didn’t consult your brothers or me before making this decision.”

  Brock turned and said, “Dad, we’ve contracted out for as long as I can remember, essentially paying piece rate to whatever guy we could find to do the job. If you’ve got someone on salary, they can do whatever you need whenever you need it. You’re getting ready to hand the firm over to us, so I made an executive decision based upon the future needs of the firm.” He took a breath, radiating confidence. “If you still disagree, I’ll pay him out of my own pocket.”

  After a long pause, Brady Ford smiled, the crinkles beside his eyes deepening before he chuckled. “Ah, a decision maker. I respect that, son. Being able to make decisions for the good of the firm is part of why I ultimately broke away and hung my own shingle all those years ago. I trust your judgment. Why don’t we put him on the payroll next week?”

  “I thought you’d say that—but he needs more time than that. Two weeks’ notice to the department before he comes over here.”

  “Ah, of course.”

  Well, all this familial bonding and ass kissing was nice, but Erica had made a decision and it was time to get out of here. “Brock, I’m glad you’ve finally had a pang of conscience, and I hope it stays with you as you continue practicing law. But I was just tendering my resignation to your father.”

  “But why, Erica? If it’s just because of me…I’m a good man, Erica. I just made a bad decision or two…but you’ve made me realize I can do my job and still do what’s right.”

 
“Good for you, Brock. But I—”

  He must have known she was going to tell him she was “breaking up” with him—but if he wanted to handle it instead, that was fine. This was his game, his ruse, and he was the one who had to live with his family when it was all over. So long as she could leave unscathed, she would leave quietly.

  Brock got down on a knee again, like he had at his father’s retirement gala over a month ago, but instead of looking at Erica, he turned his head to talk to his father and brother. “I have a bit of a confession to make. A couple of months ago, I convinced Erica to pretend to be my fiancée, because I thought it would help my chances of being a full partner in the firm when you retired, dad—all your speeches about being a family man sunk in with us, and not only hadn’t I found the right woman, but I wasn’t ready to settle down.”

  He turned to Erica then. “But the past several weeks with you have opened my eyes and changed my mind. You, Erica Larson, are funny, sweet, intelligent—and you challenge me like no other woman ever has. I would be a damn idiot to let you go.”

  Erica felt her heart swell and her eyes fill as his words flooded her heart…because that meant he loved her back. It was something she’d shut herself off from this morning but, hearing his words, she let the walls inside her heart fall down and absorb all he was saying.

  Before she could answer, he turned his head to his father again. “I was being deceptive and dishonest. I lied to you…and so if that means you no longer want me here at Ford & Associates, I’ll go somewhere else.” He swallowed but kept talking before either his father or oldest brother could speak. “After finding Erica, this work doesn’t hold the fascination for me that it once did. Do I want to continue practicing law? Yes, of course, but now it all pales in comparison.” He turned to her once more. “Go if you must. Leave if you can’t find a place in your heart for me—but go knowing I love you and want you in my life.”

  How the hell could any woman say no to that? “Oh, Brock…”