by Rachel Dylan
She couldn’t let this chance slip away. She’d have to be on the top of her game the entire time. While Sam cared about all of his clients, he’d been college roommates with Lee Wakefield, the CEO of Wakefield Corporation. So Sam took this case personally. He wouldn’t accept anything but her best—and then some. She’d proven herself to be a hard worker, and it was nice to see that it was actually paying off. But her work was far from done.
Hope gave her secretary instructions on booking the flight to leave New York around lunchtime and then went home to pack. She’d never been to Georgia. Much less the small town of Maxwell. This would be an experience she’d never forget. And there was also an added bonus. Now she could ensure she wouldn’t run into agent whatever his name was again. Their altercation last night was strange, and it bothered her that he was making allegations against Carlos Nola.
A tiny shred of doubt crept into her thoughts. What if the FBI agent was right and Nola was involved in some illegal activity? Could her work actually be protecting and aiding a criminal? No. She refused to believe that.
She’d had a few meetings with Nola in New York, and he always seemed entirely professional. Friendly, a gentleman, and with a shrewd business acumen. There had never been any hint of impropriety in any of their discussions. She’d spoken to him on the phone quite a bit lately because of trial preparation, and she’d experienced no red flags of any kind. Wakefield Corporation was also a very well thought of business with board members who were highly respected in the community. No, there simply had to be some mistake on the FBI’s part.
The FBI was mistaken, and it was her job to protect her client, Wakefield Corporation. Nola wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the business, because as a board member, he had a vested interest to stay above board with all of his business dealings.
She wasn’t one to just sit back, though. She planned to find out what the FBI was really after before it was too late.
Chapter Two
By the time Hope’s flight touched down at the Atlanta airport, Hope was running on adrenaline. She’d almost felt sorry for herself for a couple of minutes when she realized how easy it was for her to just get up and jump on a plane with no notice. She didn’t have a boyfriend, didn’t have that many friends who would notice her absence. Not even a cat.
She was a loner and married to the firm. It was a sacrifice she had made with full knowledge of the costs. It was also one she made out of necessity. He was the first person she’d truly trusted. She was heartbroken over his deceit. Being alone was better than being hurt.
And now those sacrifices were going to pay off. She was going to be second chair. She was the one who was going to work this week with the client and local counsel in advance of trial. It was all worth it. It even helped put away some of the pain she’d been dealing with for the past year after Barry cheated on her. She’d had no choice but to leave him after that.
Hope and the rest of the legal team from the firm were staying at the best hotel in Maxwell. Or at least that’s what she’d been told. When she pulled up her rental car into the lot, she let out a breath. She was not in New York anymore. Wow. Admittedly, she’d been spoiled because the other cases she traveled for were in big cities. Four and five star hotels were the norm—especially when a partner was involved.
But as she stared up at the hotel, she realized she needed to adjust her expectations. It was the Maxwell Inn. The big sign hung in between two large magnolia trees. Two of the biggest trees she’d ever seen.
She was here for trial anyway, not to go on a luxurious vacation. She’d just have to make it work. Hope hadn’t grown up in a family with money so she knew how to adapt. It was Sam she started to worry about.
The word she’d really use to describe the inn was historic. It was only a few floors and looked more like an old southern mansion than a hotel. No doubt that they wouldn’t have around-the-clock room service.
She parked her car—no valet that was for sure—and grabbed her two suitcases. Had she over packed? Yes. But the fear of not having something she needed had been too much to ignore, so she’d almost emptied her small closets.
The wind blew her hair into her face, but it wasn’t the frigid wind she was so accustomed to. It was barely cool. She probably could’ve left her heavy dress coat back in her apartment. She assumed it would still get cold in Georgia in January, but she was almost sweating under her clothes as she walked into the hotel lobby to check in.
The lobby was larger than she expected, with hardwood floors and oil paintings hung on the walls. A woman with bleached blonde hair stood behind the check-in counter. She smiled broadly. “You checking in, ma’am?”
Her southern drawl was unmistakable.
“Yes, I am. I’m Hope Finch.”
“And I’m Mary March, nice to meet ya. I spoke to someone at your law firm earlier today. We’re ready for your entire group. The trial you’re working on is all the talk in Maxwell.”
“Really?” Hope would have to get used to the small town atmosphere where everyone knew everything about everyone. She’d grown up in New York City. Anonymity was one of the things that helped get her through her childhood.
“Of course. And all you have to do while you’re here is let people know that you’re one of Wakefield’s lawyers, and you’ll get the extra special treatment.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
Mary smiled as she flipped through the paperwork that spit out of the printer. “We take care of our own in Maxwell. Even turned down the other side’s lawyers when they called to make a reservation. Let them stay at the motel off old country road. Wakefield is one of the biggest employers for the city. We don’t take too kindly to being sued by a fancy California company on some trumped up charges. We depend on Wakefield here in Maxwell. So you and your team can count on the town of Maxwell to take care of you.”
“We’ll do our best.”
“We have you in room two thirty two. You’re in one of our junior suites as requested. So you’ll have a little work area. Here’s your key. And just holler if you need anything, I’ll be here until midnight. Then Jim takes over for the rest of the night.”
“Great. Could you tell me where I could grab some dinner?”
“Oh, honey, you’re in the south now. There are plenty of good options if you’re willing to try them. Pa’s Diner is only two blocks from here if you take a right out of the inn. Then just walk down the sidewalk and you can’t miss it. They have everything you could want including an amazing breakfast. If you like barbeque, we got some of the best in the state at Maxwell Mel’s BBQ—and don’t tell Mel I said some of the best. Mel would insist that it is the best barbeque. It’s just a block the other direction. Hang a left out of here. And finally, the best fried chicken you’ve ever had is served at Billy’s Shack. But you’ll need to drive there. It’s about a mile or so down the way. Also, we will bring complimentary hot tea and coffee to your room. Just give us a call and we’ll have it right up.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” Her mind was reeling at how she was going to fit in her suits if she ate fried food for every single meal.
But for now she couldn’t stress about that. Hope felt her stomach rumble and knew that food was a must. The complimentary peanuts from the flight weren’t sufficient. She took the elevator up one floor, rolling her bags along with her. She opened up her hotel room and was pleasantly surprised. No, it wasn’t a fancy New York hotel room, but it looked clean and the bright light of the mild winter afternoon shone through. Covering the bed was a large lavender quilt. There was a small sitting and work area with a desk and chairs. A hint of lemon cleaner and cedar hung in the air. Quickly she put all her suits on hangers and unpacked the rest of her clothes in a hurry.
After a brief moment of deliberation, she decided to try the diner. Anyplace called Pa’s was enough to intrigue her. She wouldn’t even need a jacket for the short walk. She was already getting spoiled with the warmer weather.
She looked down the s
treet at the various shops and stores. The research she had done on the town let her know that the area she was staying in was filled with cute shops and restaurants. About a mile or two out, the town was more commercialized with a lot of chains. Wakefield Corporation was a couple of miles away from the inn. She was anxious to see the company headquarters in person. That would come first thing in the morning. Tonight was all about getting settled in and having a good dinner.
She passed a few people on the street that all said hello. It wouldn’t be long before the town would be abuzz about all the lawyers participating in the trial—especially the rival law firm from Silicon Valley. Cyber Future had hired the most notoriously ruthless law firm in the U.S. to represent them. The Jennings Law Firm out of California made billions on plaintiff’s lawsuits. Some of very questionable merit. The lawyers didn’t care about their clients, only about the cases that had the potential to bring them huge jury verdicts.
Aha, she thought to herself, when she saw Pa’s up ahead on the right. The sign was in big bright red lettering. For once, she actually liked that the sidewalks weren’t filled with people. It allowed her to really breathe. Something she hadn’t done in a long time. She loved New York City and never wanted to leave. But maybe a visit to Maxwell, and this trial, was just what she needed to recharge and reinvigorate herself. The trial experience itself would be amazing. And the town seemed quiet and peaceful. Yeah, she would probably get a lot of attention since she was a lawyer for Wakefield, but she doubted anyone would really care about her as a person. Only about the lawsuit. So there was still an amount of anonymity that she craved.
She walked into Pa’s Diner and bells jingled loudly on the door. Since she was having an early dinner, there weren’t that many people there. A few people sat at the counter on high top swivel chairs and there were a couple of other people spread out in booths.
“Hello there. You can have a seat wherever you want,” the tall, thin waitress said. Her brown hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, and she wore a t-shirt that said Pa’s in big red letters.
Hope sat down at a booth by the window and the waitress walked over and set a menu in front of her. “I’m Mags. I’ll be helping ya today.” She paused and looked at her with a smile. “You must be here for the trial,” she said.
“Am I that obvious?”
Mags laughed. “What’s your name?”
“Hope Finch.”
“What side?” She stood with her right hand on her hip.
“The home team.” She couldn’t help but smile.
“Well then in that case, let me tell you about the specials. We make a mean bacon cheeseburger. If that’s too heavy for you, we do amazing breakfast food all day. Even do egg whites if you’re into that type of thing.”
Hope chuckled. She was so obviously a city girl. An omelet sounded awesome.
“How about a veggie omelet.”
“Great choice. That comes with toast and cheese grits. That okay?”
“Actually I’ve never had grits, but I’d love to try them.”
“Perfect. You won’t be disappointed. And what to drink?”
“Water is fine.”
She shook her head. “Oh no, dear. I’ll bring you a sweet tea. You have to try it, too. We make it the sweetest in town.”
Hope knew better than to argue with the waitress. The last thing she needed to do was to make enemies before the sun went down on her first day in town. So she’d just try the sweet tea and hope that she could handle the excessive sugar. She even drank her coffee black.
Since Hope had grown up in New York, she was literally a city girl through and through. When Mags brought back the sweet tea and stood there waiting with a big grin, she had no choice. She took a big sip and felt the sweetness hit her tongue. It was surprisingly good but she wanted something extra. “Could I have some lemon to go with it?”
“Sure thing, hun. And your food will be out in just a few.”
Hope let out a sigh and tried to get her head around all that was happening. She’d be meeting the local lawyers they were working with tomorrow. Since they were litigating this case outside of New York, they were required by law to have local lawyers. But there was no mistake who was in charge. Sam Upton was running the show. The local guys were just for dress and to play a purely supporting role. So far the local firm had been very helpful and even brought up great legal points on the team conference call. As long as everyone understood their various roles, Hope didn’t foresee any problems.
“Can I have a seat,” a deep male voice said.
She looked up. No way. It couldn’t be. “What are you doing here?” She clenched her fists instantly on alert. This guy couldn’t mess up her case. She refused to let him.
“That isn’t a very nice way to greet your favorite FBI agent,” he said softly. “But right now I’m not an agent.” He gave her a look that made Hope grumble.
“You’re not my favorite anything.” She paused, her mind racing as she tried to assess the situation. Then she processed what he had said to her. “So you’re undercover?”
“Yes, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t blow it.”
She glanced up at him. “And what, are you stalking me now?”
“Of course not. I’m working. Just like you.”
“And part of working is following me down to Maxwell, Georgia from New York?”
He smiled revealing a small dimple in his right cheek. “That’s where you’re wrong. I wasn’t following you. I’ve got work here. Just like you do.”
She couldn’t believe what he was saying. “But you were just in New York City.”
“Yes. I only flew up there to talk to you. I actually live in Maxwell.”
Now things were getting very strange. She looked up into his dark chocolate eyes that looked even darker now with the light of the diner. As if she wasn’t already suspicious of him after he basically broke into her apartment. And now he was living in the town that she was going to be staying in for the foreseeable future. Her gut was screaming at her that she needed to keep her guard up around this guy. While he had been talking about danger, he might actually be a threat to her.
“I do need to sit, though.”
Before she could object, he sat down across from her.
“I’ve already told you everything I know,” she said. “Which is pretty much nothing since there’s nothing to tell.”
“I’m taking on Carlos Nola. And I plan to do it with your help or not. But as I told you before, if we get evidence of your involvement with his schemes, the prosecutor will not go easy on you. You are an officer of the court after all. Think about your career. Not about protecting a criminal.”
“And I told you, Mr. Marino, that I have absolutely nothing to hide. I’m a very good lawyer, and I work hard for my clients. But I have no basis to think that Mr. Nola or anyone at Wakefield Corporation is doing anything illegal. Calling him a criminal is slanderous. Don’t think that we won’t come after you and the FBI for harassment and slander. I’m sure I can come up with a number of other allegations to put in the complaint too.”
“Once you see some of the evidence you might change your mind.”
“What evidence?”
The waitress walked over and set down the large fluffy omelet in front of her. She took a moment just to breathe in the wondrous smell of veggies, cheese, and eggs.
“Hi, Gabe,” the waitress said. “You want your usual?”
“Sure thing, Mags.”
“And I see you met one of Wakefield’s brightest lawyers. I told her we’d take good care of her while she was in town. Even got her drinking sweet tea already.”
Hope couldn’t help but smile. Mags seemed like a really nice lady. When Mags walked away, she turned her attention squarely back to Gabe. She didn’t need this distraction right now. The trial started in less than a week.
She took a bite of her omelet but didn’t break eye contact. She’d wait for him to make the next move.
“The ev
idence will be revealed to you when I can.”
She laughed. “That’s not nearly good enough, and you know that.”
“I hear what you’re saying, Ms. Finch, but I think you can probably understand that I can’t take your word for it that you are oblivious to Nola’s activities. I would have to put you in front of a grand jury. Who knows how that would impact your legal career.”
“Wait.” She dropped her fork down on her plate. “Are you threatening me?”
He leaned forward. “I’m simply advising you of your options.”
“It certainly doesn’t sound like that to me.” She paused gathering her thoughts. “I don’t care if you work for the FBI or any other federal government agency. You’re not going to bully me. I’ve got a job to do. A multi-million dollar lawsuit to defend. And if you keep harassing me, I will report you to FBI headquarters. I’m not stupid enough to think that reporting you locally would do any good.”
“Now wait a minute.” He lifted up his hand. “I haven’t harassed you. I had a warrant to search your apartment. And I have every right to be here at this diner right now.”
“A flimsy very limited warrant that I read with great interest.”
“Yes, but a warrant no less. And I told you. I live here. This is my town, and I’m going to do what I have to so that it’s protected against men like Carlos Nola.”
She crossed her arms. “You just don’t like Carlos because he’s an outsider who decided to move into your precious Maxwell.”
“Where he’s from has nothing to do with it. He’s using Wakefield Corporation to do his dirty work. This town is a quiet, peaceful, and law abiding place. A place you can raise your kids and not be fearful. I won’t let someone with ties to organized crime change that.”
“Organized crime.” Ah, now things were starting to become a bit more clear. This guy was trying to connect Nola. “Are you profiling him because he’s Italian?”
“Hope.” He used her name for the first time. “What kind of name do you think Marino is? My dad was Italian. Nola’s heritage has nothing to do with it. But who he associates with is another story.”
