“I’m fine,” she sighed. “I’ve been busy, what with the renovation on the apartment. And I went to Greece for a few weeks. It was ghastly, really, so crowded with tourists.” She sipped her wine and continued speaking. Occasionally as she did, she brought her hand to her chest, absently stroking her cleavage.
Michael didn’t even try to listen. His eyes were on the tie at her waist. Just a tug and she’d be open to him. He wondered what she was wearing under the navy blue Tory Burch dress. His thoughts flitted to Maggie, wondering what had been under that delicious green dress. He felt his erection growing. He had waited absolutely as long as he could.
Michael slid closer to Veronica, took her glass, and set it on the table beside the untouched cheese tray. “God, I’ve missed you,” he growled, taking her cheek in his palm and leaning in to kiss her. She responded, kissing him passionately before moving her lips along his scruffy jaw to just below his ear.
Michael nibbled down her neck and slid his hand into the top of her dress, fondling her breast, using his thumb to brush across the sensitive nub, rendering it fully awake.
“Mmm.” The low moan came from Veronica as she slid down slightly, drawing him down with her. Michael leaned up and gave her a roguish grin before reaching to tug the tie that was keeping her hidden from him. She smiled lazily and draped her arms over her head as he opened her dress, exposing her unnaturally full tits, her tanned flat belly, her smoothly waxed pussy. He paused, appreciating the view.
“Before you go any further, sailor, you’re overdressed,” she teased. He pulled the black shirt over his head and tossed it aside, leaning over her again, pressing his knee against her moist sex.
Moaning again, she lightly brushed her hands over his chest, running her fingers through the sprinkling of salt and pepper hair there as he kissed her again, but he pushed her hands back up again and worked his way lower to cover her right nipple with his mouth, suckling voraciously.
Veronica panted and arched her back, grinding her pussy against his knee. “Not so fast, lover,” she breathed.
Michael sat back, running a hand through his hair. Veronica took advantage of the opportunity to kneel on the sofa and undo his fly. He hadn’t bothered with underwear and his erection sprung forward freely. She stilled for a moment, dress hanging open and showcasing her firm, round tits and she fixed him with a sensual stare as she gripped his cock, circling her thumb around the head, smearing the glistening pearl she found there. Still wearing her dress like a cloak, she slowly leaned forward keeping her eyes on his and took him in her mouth.
“Oh, shit, Ronni,” he hissed. He watched her taking him in and out of her mouth, licking and sucking as she did, and he reached down to pull up the back of her dress, exposing her ass. He remembered the feel of Maggie’s ass under his hand last night. And her firm tits pressed tight against his chest. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, nearly losing control. But when he glanced down, the face was wrong.
He gripped Veronica’s hair and pulled her off his cock. Standing with his jeans around his knees, he spun her so that she faced the back of the sofa. He leaned over her, reaching around to roughly grope her tits with one hand and plunge the fingers of the other into her pussy, grinding his rock-like shaft into her ass crack while feverishly biting her neck.
She gasped at his sudden shift. “Jesus, Michael!”
He withdrew his fingers from her pussy and used them to circle her clit and she responded by moaning deeply. “I want you from behind!” he hissed. Michael gripped her hips and thrust his cock home.
“Oh, shit!” She held on tightly to the back of the sofa as he repeatedly slammed into her as far as he could go, his movements harsh and primal. Eyes closed, Michael saw the long red hair, the green dress, and he continued his frenzied pumping. Veronica came noisily, loudly calling out his name.
He felt his own release exploding, his cock convulsing as he spent himself into her. “Oh, God, Mags,” he breathed as his last spasm subsided, collapsing beside Veronica.
They lay side by side catching their breath. After a moment Veronica pushed up on one elbow and kissed his cheek. She stood and tied her dress back around herself, dug into her bag for cigarettes and a lighter, and went out onto the veranda. Michael slid back into his jeans and followed her outside. The twinkling lights of the city were soothing.
“That was really something, sailor,” she said without turning around. He wrapped his arms around her petite frame and kissed her neck.
“You are amazing, Ronni,” he breathed against her cheek.
“It wasn’t me you were fucking,” she said impassively.
“What?” he asked, blocking Maggie out of his thoughts.
Veronica turned to face him. “In your mind I was someone else.” She gazed at him steadily.
“Ronni, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Michael denied. “You’re the best.”
She took another drag on her cigarette, blowing the smoke to the side. “Come, Michael. You’ve never been that aggressive before.” She smiled tightly. “I talked to Gina Lewis. She was at the Music in Schools event last night. She said that you were with a stunning redhead.”
Michael flushed and looked away. “I wasn’t with her, I went to the party with Jana Hansen. I wanted to take you, if you recall. Maggie is a lawyer with my firm.”
“I’m not jealous, handsome, so lighten up. I heard you shared a pretty intimate dance with a beautiful girl. I’m happy for you, you know.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not seeing Maggie, it’s just...” he paused. “Jana had to leave and Maggie and I ended up hanging out for the rest of the party. I would never date someone from work. It would create too many problems.”
Veronica smiled wistfully. “I’ve never known you to be so intense. It was me on the couch, but you were fucking that girl.”
Michael shook his head in frustration and stalked to the other side of the veranda, looking out over the city.
“This is the last time I can see you,” Veronica said quietly. “I’m getting married.”
“You’re what?” he whirled to face her, eyes wide.
“We’re announcing it at a party next month. I wanted to tell you first. You’re invited, of course.” She smiled at him affectionately. “You didn’t think I was going to wait around forever, did you?” She moved toward him, cupping his cheek in her hand. “You are a delicious diversion, Michael. But it’s time I grew up.” She kissed him tenderly and returned inside to collect her bag.
Silently, Michael followed her, pausing to shrug back into his shirt. Veronica stopped at the door. “I’m sorry you’re so surprised, Michael. Truthfully, knowing about your redhead makes me feel better about you. At least you won’t be alone.” She gave a knowing look. “Don’t take too long. She won’t wait forever, either.” She kissed him passionately.
“Goodbye, Michael.”
Chapter 22
Maggie arranged and rearranged baklava, croissants, and pear strudel in preparation for the morning meeting. The coffee was ready in three insulated dispensers. She’d been at the office over an hour. The conference room door opened and her heart skipped a beat.
“Hi, Maggie!” Dan said.
She wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or disappointed. “Hey, Dan, how are you?” she smiled.
“Great. How was your weekend?” he asked.
How was her weekend? Let’s see. I went to a fabulous party. I ended up drinking too much, dancing with the boss, oh, and then I kissed him. I was ready to fuck him right there on my kitchen counter but suddenly he left. So on a scale of 1-10...
“Morning, Dan, Mags,” Michael greeted them both.
“Good morning, Michael,” Dan said cheerfully.
“Hi, Michael.” Color rose in her cheeks as she finished shuffling the pastries.
“Listen, can I talk to you after the meeting?” Dan asked her quietly.
Shit! Still smiling, “Sure.” When she glanced over her shoulder Michael ga
ve her a sharp, if amused, look.
The others filed in and found their seats while Michael took his place at the head of the conference table. “What have we got this week?” One by one, they briefed him on their plans for that day and for the week as Michael took notes. “Sounds good. Hodges, will you need a hand with those depositions?” he clarified.
“No, we’ve got it,” Stan Hodges reassured him.
“Perfect. I’m going to be tied up with the Larson case starting tomorrow. John and Ellen will assist. Oh, and Maggie will be joining us.”
“What the fuck?!” Standifer said under her breath.
Michael fixed her with a pointed stare. “Problems?”
“No,” she said quickly. “No problems.”
“Good. If that’s everything, let’s get to it,” he adjourned the meeting.
Maggie began packing up the coffee and treats to move them to the break room as everyone filed out. Only Dan lingered behind. “So you’re going to get a chance to go to court,” he said, helping Maggie with the packing.
She smiled. “Yeah, finally. I’m really happy about it.”
“You should celebrate. Have a drink with me after work today.”
“Go out with the gang for cocktails?” she asked lightly.
He grinned shyly. “I thought maybe just you and me.”
Maggie looked down for a moment, then smiled kindly. “That sounds great, but I can’t, really.”
“It’s just a drink. You don’t need to worry about inter-office issues, it’s not a problem,” he shrugged.
She sighed. “Ordinarily I’d love to. It’s just that, well...” She met his eyes, trying to ease the blow. “I like someone right now. And I’d like to see where it goes, so...” She gave him a gentle smile. “I’m sorry. But thank you.”
Dan nodded with a sad smile. “Always a day late and a dollar short,” he chuckled. “Story of my life.” He left the conference room and Maggie let out a huge breath.
She lingered in the break room, trying to give Dan a chance to get to his office. As she headed out the door to go back to her other duties, she nearly walked right into Michael. “Can I see you a second, Mags?”
“Sure,” she said uncertainly, her stomach suddenly taking a dive. All weekend, she’d wondered how to acknowledge Friday night. She’d scolded herself. Don’t be stupid. It was no big deal. Two attractive people drank too much and shared a kiss.
But it had been a big deal to Maggie. Following him into his office, she unconsciously wrung her hands together. “What’s up?”
He motioned to the chairs opposite his desk. “I want to talk about the Larson case, make sure you’re up to speed.”
Maggie released breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Apparently he wasn’t going to talk about Friday. He probably never even thought twice about it.
“I think I’m ready. He’s the tennis pro, arrested after a bar fight for aggravated assault and battery. I’ve seen the arrest report and probable cause affidavit, gone over the forensics, I’ve read the depositions. What more should I do?”
Michael rocked back in his chair, nodding. “It sounds like you’ve got it. Hemphill and Standifer will be at the table with me. You’ll be seated behind us. I want you to watch everything, the jury included. If you notice anything, let me know.”
“Of course, Michael, I understand,” she said.
“And apparently Ellen is bent on being a pain,” he added, his expression grim. “Are you ready for that?”
She smiled confidently. “I was born ready.”
Michael laughed. “Atta girl. Seems it’s true what they say about redheads.”
“Why? What do they say?” Maggie asked.
His eyes crinkled as he laughed again, shaking his head. “Never mind. How did it go with Dan?”
Turning at his office door, she rolled her eyes. “I tried to let him down easy. Thanks for the heads up, by the way. I would have been caught completely off-guard.”
“What did you say?” he asked, eyes smiling.
“I told him that I liked someone.” She held his gaze steadily for a moment before turning away, closing the door behind her. Let him think about that for a while.
* * *
Being in court was a revelation. Although Maggie had seen videos of Michael at work as a litigator, watching him in person completely upped the ante. Michael was a master at moving people, at helping them arrive at the destination he had in mind. At turns he charmed them with his looks and self-deprecating wit and challenged them with common sense and laser-sharp knowledge of the law. Maggie watched with rapt attention, taking copious notes.
In addition to her notes and briefs, she had a file of all the depositions, having printed them out for herself. That probably had been overkill, all the information was in the briefs, but she’d done it anyway. Better safe than sorry, she’d thought.
Ronald “Rowdy” Larson was an up-and-coming tennis star who’d been involved in a drunken bar brawl that had resulted in one man having permanent damage to his vision. In addition to the criminal trial, there would be a civil trial in which the victim would seek damages to the tune of millions of dollars. He was flanked at the defense table by Hemphill and Standifer.
Michael questioned each witness, garnering cooperation with his easy charm and winning smile. The prosecution portrayed Larson as a spoiled, entitled punk who excelled at making trouble. Michael painted him as misunderstood, as much a victim as the one who’d been injured, just a guy in the wrong place at the wrong time.
By Friday morning, testimony was winding down. The problem was that witness after witness stated that Larson had thrown the first punch. No matter how Michael worked to spin it, that seemed to be a sticking point to which the prosecution continued to return.
Misgivings nagged at Maggie. Something isn’t fitting, she thought. From her seat behind the defense table, she began flipping through her copies of the depositions. Where was it?
She found what she was looking for in the fifth document in her file. Eyes wide, she traced her finger over the transcript. Her heart pounded as she watched Michael question the final scheduled witness, her eyes boring into his the back of his head.
Silently, she implored him. Turn around! Desperate to get his attention, she quickly sent him a text. She watched as his mobile lit up on the defense table. Dammit, check your phone!
As he listened to the witness give a lengthy answer to his question, Michael turned and walked to the table where his phone lay. Leaving where it was, he checked for messages.
“You have another witness.” His eyes locked on hers and she nodded briskly. Michael immediately turned to the judge. “Your Honor, the defense requests a fifteen minute recess.”
The judge checked his watch. “It’s almost lunch. We’ll break and resume at 1:00.”
Five minutes later, the four of them were in the lawyers’ lounge down the hall from the courtroom. John busied himself getting coffee and Ellen stalked off to the ladies’ room.
“What’s up, Mags? What other witness?” Michael asked.
“You haven’t called Daryl Whittaker,” she said.
“Who’s Daryl Whittaker?”
“He’s the bouncer from the club. In his deposition he states that he knows for a fact that Rowdy didn’t start the fight. When the fight started, he and Rowdy were talking. They’d just taken a selfie, and there’s a time stamp on the photo.”
“I don’t remember seeing that deposition,” Michael said, fixing Hemphill with a serious look.
John joined them at the table, stirring his coffee. “I knew it was in there. I don’t think it’s a big deal. He wasn’t a very credible witness anyway.”
“Are you shitting me? We have a photo with a time stamp that matches the time the fight started? And you don’t think that’s a big deal?”
Michael’s jaw was tight and he narrowed his eyes as Ellen returned from the restroom. “Did you know about the bouncer?” he demanded. She flushed slightly looking fr
om Michael to John.
“Michael didn’t see the deposition of the bouncer, the one with the selfie,” John said, bringing her up to speed.
Ellen’s gaze fell on Maggie. “Maggie was the one who made the copies of all the briefs and depositions. She must have left out something.” Her lip curled derisively.
“Maggie is the one who brought it to my attention.” Whirling to Maggie, “How did you know about this?” he demanded.
Maggie licked her lips and hesitated. “I made extra copies of all the documents for myself,” she said quietly. “I just wanted to be sure I was prepared.” She held up her copy of the bouncer’s deposition. Ellen snatched it from her hand.
“I’ll take that,” Michael said. He looked it over silently, pacing back and forth beside the table. When Ellen asked Maggie about lunch plans, Michael glared at her. Sullenly, she crossed her arms and sat across from Maggie on the other side of the table.
Chapter 23
When court reconvened, Michael called Daryl Whittaker to the witness stand. He walked the bouncer through the events of the evening in question and the man verified what he’d previously stated in his deposition. Rowdy was talking to some fans at a table on the far side of the establishment, far away from the bar where the fight began. At the exact moment the victim was punched, the tennis star had posed for a selfie with Whittaker. The photo with the time stamp was introduced into evidence. The prosecution wasn’t happy, but Whittaker had been on the witness list all along. They hadn’t bothered to call him because he didn’t help their case.
At 3:15 the jury began their deliberations and at 4:50 they returned a verdict of acquittal. John and Ellen left immediately after Rowdy was released. On the courthouse steps, Michael and Rowdy paused to address the reporters gathered there hoping for a sound bite in time for the six o’clock news. Michael didn’t disappoint.
Maggie stood to the side and watched as Michael flashed his signature smile. “We’d like to thank the good folks of the jury for taking seriously their civic duty. A week-long trial isn’t a lot of fun, but they weighed the evidence and did the right thing. My client is grateful for their attention to detail and their sense of justice, and he offers his sincere hopes and prayers for the victim’s speedy recovery.”
Rannigan's Redemption: Complete Collection Page 10
