The Hot Lawyer (A Romance Love Story) (Hargrave Brothers - Book #4)

by Alexa Davis

  “I just keep seeing the mistakes I made, the amount of pain I could’ve avoided, and the things I did avoid,” I told him, gesturing around me. “I wanted her to take what’s being offered to her, to make her ‘right’ again.” He touched my cheek, and his finger left a trail of electricity that shot through me, heating my belly, and making me grateful I was already sitting and my knees couldn’t give out on me.

  The muffin was dust in my mouth when I tried to eat it, and I set it aside and tried to wash it down with the lukewarm remains of my latte, choking on the tepid coffee. When I was finally able to breathe normally again, Tucker had vanished. The coffee and what was left of the muffin went into the trash bin, and I started for the coffee cart again, only to see that was exactly where my tall, handsome hero had gone.

  He handed me a fresh, hot cup of heaven and stood to one side of the cart with me while the nice young barista made his. Tucker didn’t press me on my over-involvement with Kristy, and I didn’t bother to tell him he was right. It didn’t matter. Kristy was now my problem, whatever he said. Because he was right—she wasn’t family, or a friend. However, she was something more, or something worse. She was me; but for the grace of God. I could’ve been the one in that bed, so many times. Tucker couldn’t understand how much it meant to me to see her better than I had been.

  “She’s only twenty-three, Tucker.” He accepted his coffee and stood with me under an arch, facing the colorful window mural. “I just want to see her have a chance at happiness before she’s too old and realizes how much of her life she’s wasted.”

  “I know. I don’t fault you for wanting to help. I’m not saying your advice is wrong. But there comes a point where you should let go, for your own well-being.”

  “Do you ever wonder what life would be like if you’d stayed on the ranch, or even just kept at being a cattleman, on your own? Andrew said you were amazing with a rope, like something in a rodeo or a movie.”

  “I was all right, I guess. No better than my father, or my brothers. It was what we did, and sometimes, it was even fun. But I loved school so much, and I always wanted something more.”

  “More what?” I scoffed, “More frustrating, time-sucking, nerve-wracking, and thankless?” he laughed so hard he spit coffee onto his chin. I handed him a napkin from my pocket.

  “Thanks,” he laughed, wiping his chin. “You are right about how difficult this life is. But I still wouldn’t change a thing about what I do.” He tossed the crumpled tissue in the bin and looked at me, his eyes dark with a look so possessive and masculine, it made me flush. “I’d never have been there to help you if I was still a cowpoke.” I nodded and glanced at my watch.

  “I need to go get Olivia and bring her back around before Kristy goes, well… wherever she decides to go. Want to come up and say ‘goodbye’ with me?” I paused. “Unless you were here to see her.” He held up his briefcase and nodded.

  “Here to get some information and a signature or two on your behalf from her, and really happy that I saw you first.” My blush deepened and I walked toward the elevator, trying to hide it. There wasn’t much more I could say to Kristy except “goodbye” and “thank you,” but I felt like I needed to find a way to get through to her. The woman had stood up in a courtroom and made a statement that had to have been humiliating for her, instead of simply firing her lawyer in private. Then she’d attempted to end her life because of her part in an argument over money. It was more than a will and some pictures that had put her in the hospital. She needed real help.

  Tucker may not have thought we needed to be involved with her, but for better or worse, I was. I wasn’t going to abandon her without knowing there was someone to take up the torch and carry on until she was stronger. Like it or not, she was my problem, and I wasn’t going to walk away until it was solved.

  19. Tucker

  I wasn’t nearly as surprised when Kristy accepted the offer of a psychological evaluation as Libby was. I’d seen, firsthand, just how persuasive she could be, and as fragile as Kristy was, there was still a spark in her eyes that spoke of a resilience I was familiar with, in Libby, in my own family. Maybe it was a Texas thing. It was possible to imagine, looking up at the Mexican cowboys who forever herded cattle above the door to the hospital, that everyone who loved the land as much as we did, simply inherited the ability to pick ourselves up in the face of struggle, and soldier on.

  Libby was practically dancing when I walked her to her car. She was headed back to the preschool to get Olivia, who had been attending both the morning and afternoon classes as a favor to Libby.

  “Time to go to the park, and take Olivia for a grown-up lunch like she’s been begging me for, and maybe spend some time figuring out how to be successful.” She giggled, leaning with one hip against her car door. “No matter what the judge decides, and believe me, I think the legal thing is to split the finances three ways and sell the damn house to do it; I’m just glad that there is an actual, honest-to-God, really-for-real, light at the end of this tunnel.”

  “I hope things work out the way we want them to. I know that you’re sincere, but even strategically, asking the judge only for what is fair under the law is a smart move.” She nodded and grimaced.

  “There is nothing anyone could offer me that could tempt me to have to look at the world the way you do.” I snorted.

  “We aren’t like the jokes, you know,” he said. After a pause, he continued. “Well, most of us aren’t. I guess Carl didn’t get the memo that you didn’t have to be sewer slime to argue the law.”

  “Putting it mildly, but yes,” she scoffed, slamming her mouth shut and widening her eyes when I stepped in to her and slid my hand to her waist.

  “Right. Some of us just want to find a nice girl, settle down, and have lots and lots of hot sex.” She gasped and managed a shaky laugh.

  “Is that all you want, then?” I shrugged and pressed myself against her.

  “Wouldn’t hurt. I mean, what could go wrong?”

  “Heartbreak, loneliness, quarts upon quarts of Ben and Jerry’s. I have been down this road before, and it is ugly.” I ran my hand up her arm, delighting in her shiver and the way her breath caught when I touched her.

  “It could be worse if we never tried.” I leaned in and kissed her softly on the forehead. “I’ll catch up with you later. Tell the kid ‘hi’ for me.” I kissed her again and forced myself to walk away without deepening it. Sitting in my car, I could still smell her faintly, and that faint sweet scent of flowers was enough to make my chest tight and my mouth dry.

  I called in to the firm and asked Cynthia to get with the secretaries and figure out a time for a meeting, and to cater it. She agreed that promising them a decent lunch away from their desks and clients was probably the only way to get all those old suits together, and I needed wisdom.

  Lawyers, like any profession, had a code of honor. You couldn’t just end someone’s career with charges of unethical practice without there being fallout, and hate Carl Jameson though I did, I wasn’t looking forward to the pushback from Cripke, Cripke, and Stokes. To them, I was going to be seen and portrayed as just a disgruntled former employee. And they were right; I was pissed as hell that I’d worked so hard to help build that place up, but they’d chosen to be loyal to a disease like Carl and hang me out to dry. Libby, too—but I really did try to leave her out of the almost blinding rage that consumed me.

  Yes, I needed to take steps based on what the senior partners would think before I waded into a fight I might not even be able to win with guns blazing, accusing a man who’d been in the courtroom since before I was legal to drink of criminal activity. Unethical, yes, and definitely on the dark side of grey ever since I’d known him. But coercion wasn’t a grey area. My stomach dropped and I felt the sour acid of bile on the back of my tongue.

  I parked and tried to go up to my office, but my feet refused to move in the direction of the stairs, so I walked back down the ramp and out into the bright sunshine. It was easier to th
ink under the shade of the trees I usually had my back to when I was in the office, but harder to think about what I needed to. My best friend had messed up the lives of two women, at least one of which was a good person, and the fact that he had messed her up was really causing problems in my life: lack of sleep, loss of appetite, frequent brain spasms of forgetfulness and distraction. Life, with her having one foot wedged in the door for a quick escape, was almost unlivable.

  I made my way around the park twice more before anyone came down from the office, and when he did, I was surprised to suddenly have the white-haired gentleman I hadn’t seen outside of meetings since I began with the firm.

  “Mr. Poparos, what brings you to the park today?” He huffed rudely and kept walking, his hands clasped behind his back as he matched my easy pace. I stayed quiet, and tried to figure out a way to break away from him without being offensive to the most senior member of our branch of the firm. Finally, he pointed to a park bench, and I sat without hesitation. I started to make a joke about us being proof lawyers weren’t vampires, but he cut me off with a glare and my mouth shut with a snap. I sighed and looked around, unsure of what to do next.

  “I hear you’re having trouble with your old firm,” he finally said, his voice full of gravel from age and a fifty-year smoking habit he’d only given up a few months ago, under threat from his wife.

  “Yessir. I have a pressing moral and legal obligation I need to discuss with the senior partners at Snell and Wilmer, regarding coercion, falsifying financial documents, and threats against a client, sir.”

  “Hmm. And who is this client?” I hesitated, knowing this was where I would lose their support.

  “His, sir.”

  “And she is what, to you?”

  “The opposition.” He arched an eyebrow at me.

  “You expect anyone to believe you’re making these allegations of him out of the goodness of your heart?” I barked out a laugh.

  “No. But it doesn’t change the fact that a young woman, barely an adult, just attempted suicide because of how helpless his coercion made her feel. I can’t just ignore that.” He sat, silent, and I waited impatiently. Finally, after almost five minutes of being ignored, I tried to leave, but as I stood, he grabbed my arm, hard enough to surprise me.

  “You are effectively on paid administrative leave, Mr. Lancaster. If we are going to bring allegations of illegal activity to the Bar Association, you can’t be involved.” I dropped back to the bench with a painful thump.

  “You’re suspending me, because I used to work for his firm?”

  “Exactly. And before we file. Your new little helper, too. Anyone who was in that courtroom with you cannot be associated with us while we file.” Shaking with anger, I could only nod my head, afraid of what I would say. “And if you stay on, then Cripke and Company might try to claim the lawsuit of our Mrs. Peele as the reason, instead of his behaviors. I can’t go to the Bar with one incident, that just so happens to be a lawsuit we’re involved with, and expect them to take us seriously.” I nodded again, as the red haze of anger ebbed away and was replaced by logic.

  “I’ve kept a few notes about previous cases, if it helps.”

  “What will help is if you’ve kept your own nose clean. We’re launching an investigation into the entire lawsuit, and everything about you will be scrutinized as much as him.” I thought about Libby, and how the relationship I had with her would be considered unethical as well. My heart sank, but I knew that I had no choice but to let Libby and Olivia go, if I wanted to make sure they had the best future possible. Defeat settled over me like a dark cloud. There was nothing I wanted more, in that moment, than to take back everything I’d said, and pretend Jameson wasn’t at least partially responsible for Andrew’s young widow ending up in a psych ward.

  “It’s a shame we’ll never know the extent of the damage Carl Jameson did to Kristy Peele, Pop,” I said to the old lawyer. “There’s a girl who ended up in the hospital, and I only wish we could do more to help her without being accused of unethical behavior ourselves.” Pop nodded and pursed his lips.

  “No longer your concern, Tucker. Just make sure your secretary knows that your case files will be picked up by various others over the next few weeks, and I’ll let you know when the internal investigation is complete and submitted.” I went back to my office, my mind reeling. I had been with the firm for less than a year, and they were investigating me for the ethics council. I couldn’t help but go over every single thing I’d done over the months, every motion, every document I’d created. I felt sick with dread, that if I had made a mistake—no matter how inadvertent—I would be held as accountable, if not more so, than the man I was trying to stop.

  Worse than anything else was the need to remove Libby and little O from my world while I was under investigation. Maybe Libby would be waiting for me when I came back around, but even if she was, I felt like I was letting her down. The judge would never decide in the middle of an ethics investigation, which meant that my decision had cost Libby for possibly months more, if not forever. I dialed her number as I made notes for Cynthia to pass on before the two of us vacated the building. Pop knocked on my door and mouthed, “Twenty minutes,” and I nodded and started stacking things that needed to go back to the library downstairs, wishing I’d had the foresight to at least clean my office before I’d done anything else.

  I left Libby a message, and gave Cynthia her checklist, which she went through quickly and efficiently. Security showed up to check our bags for sensitive documents and escorted us out of the building, only increasing the sensation of doubt and fear that sat like lead in my gut. Standing outside, chatting with Mark, our head of security, he asked Cynthia what she was going to do with her time.

  “Study old case files and get ahead on my reading,” she admitted. I still have to actually take the Bar exam, after all.”

  “What about you, Tuck? You seem pretty quiet.” I sucked in air and pursed my lips before exhaling.

  “I’m probably going to go back over every case I’ve ever negotiated or tried, to see if I’ve ever made a mistake that’s going to kick me in the butt.” Mark laughed.

  “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Even when Pop called me into his office, he didn’t seem too worried. Just said to give you all the time you needed, and take your laptop to IT to get wiped after everything was saved to the server for Pop to look at. It sounds to me, like you’re just getting a paid vacation.” He clapped me on the shoulder and tipped his hat to Cynthia, before heading back inside.

  “Is it weird that we just had a nice chat with security, after being escorted out of the office and having our passwords and keycards revoked?”

  “Only if we get found guilty of misconduct. I don’t know if that would even affect you since you’re a student, and not actually culpable for your actions.” She shrugged and dug her keys out of her purse.

  “I think you did the right thing, and if I had the right to, I’d stand by you all the way. Since I’m just an intern, all I can do is report what I’ve seen, and I saw how that girl looked. I heard what she said, and I was at the hospital. You did the right thing, and I am stoked that I get paid to sleep in tomorrow.” I grinned.

  “You will be allowed back before I am, so unless they immediately assign you to someone else, I’d like you to pick up where you left off today, okay?”

  “Okay, but are we going to talk at all before then?” I shook my head and frowned.

  “No. We’ll stay away from Libby and Kristy, and just hang in there until they tell us we’re cleared. I just want to avoid even the appearance of questionable behavior. I’m suddenly grateful so little of my work is courtroom-related,” I laughed. She wrapped her skinny arms around me in giant hug, her keys digging into my back.

  “Thanks for giving me a chance. I can’t believe that I’ve had the opportunity to watch the legal process at work, and I’ve learned so much.” I held her at arms’ length and chuckled.

  “I’ll
see you soon, you don’t have to worry. But you are very welcome. I know you’ll make a great attorney.” I put my arm over her shoulders and hugged her back, her spiky black hair poking me in the chin. “Go have fun. Make it to the beach before you must get back to work. They’re going to give you three times as much, to make up for paying you to sit on your ass.” She laughed and nodded, and we split up, me heading to the covered parking reserved for attorneys, her to the permitted street parking.

  It was going to be a long couple of weeks, waiting to find out if I was going to be pulled under with Carl. In the end, even if I lost my job, it was worth it as long as he could be stopped from hurting anyone else. Cripke, Cripke, and Stokes had always done what they could to bury anything their partners did just to get the win. I sincerely hoped that it bit them in the ass, and glanced skyward. I’d never been a religious man, but if God was listening, he heard me ask him to protect Libby and Olivia, and Andrew’s young widow, from the greed and selfishness of the world around them. They needed all the help they could get.

  20. Libby

  It was Parents Day, and as I finished hanging garlands across the doorways and put the last paper flower into the last cardboard vase, I patted myself on the back for the umpteenth time for planning ahead and having everything done the week before. Even the couple of days I’d taken off to try to support and get to know Kristy hadn’t put me too far behind schedule, and with Paul’s help, the classroom looked like a million bucks.

  “This is the most insane and impressive Parents Day party I’ve ever seen this school throw. And considering how fabulous I am, that’s saying something,” Paul half complimented, half whined as he started filling the pitchers with “big people juice” adding fresh berries and thinly sliced lime circles to them, before dumping in ice and water.

  “Um, thank you, and I can tone it down next time if you want. I guess I just got a lot of practice planning and executing parties when I was married,” I confessed. “After a while, it was the only thing I did often enough to get good at.” Paul arched an eyebrow as he added bottled water to the glass pitchers, the fruit adding a pleasing visual to the beverage.