''Other shoulder,'' Kathleen managed to say and he obliged.
''Better?''
''Much.''
''Your knee?'' Before she could stop him he leaned sideways and planted one on the bandage on her knee and Kathleen felt a stab of painful pleasure just north of that kiss. It made her think the world had opened up and was ready to swallow her. She had the most awful urge to start praying that it would.
''All right?'' he asked. All she could do was nod. ''Good.'' He sat her half-way up and scooted so that he was nestled back against the pillows. His hands held her wrists.
''I like the new you.''
Kathleen lowered hers eyes. It was the same old her, the one she worked so hard to improve and she couldn't imagine how he could like her this way. Her 'face' had always seemed so important to her, her carefully made up face. Magazines told her that no one paid attention to a woman without it. Every successful woman on the television and billboards and the streets of Beverly Hills had it. Now Michael Crawford was telling her he could care less.
''The T-shirt's nice, too.''
She turned her head slightly. ''We used to give them to new clients at Dorty & Breyer. It was silly. It was a law office, not an ice cream parlor.''
''Why are you so ashamed of it?'' A finger under the chin brought her back to him.
''I'm not. I'm not,'' she insisted and looked at him. He knew she was lying. ''Okay, I'm kind of ashamed. It was an office in a strip mall. I handled divorces where there were no assets. Anybody could have filled out the paperwork. I used to pretend I was the receptionist then run to my desk and put on my attorney hat just to make it seem like we knew what we were doing, like we were real honest to God lawyers. I always wanted to feel like I was someone. I wanted to feel like I knew what I was doing.''
''Last night I figured you knew what you were doing.''
''No, not like that. I wanted to feel like I controlled what I was doing, and that what I was doing was important. I've been living in a bubble for so many years that I wasn't sure I could make decisions any more. The only thing I did on my own was go to law school when my father didn't want me to. After that I was just kind of pulled back into doing what everyone else wanted. My dad died just before I was going to head out to seek my fortune. My mother made me feel guilty for wanting to leave a widow. Then, when she got sick, I couldn't leave an invalid. My friend at Dorty made me feel guilty for wanting to better myself. When I finally left, I walked right into Gerry's life and he's the master at making me feel guilty. I was looking for some high powered action. Instead I find an old man with dreams of grandeur and a way of letting me politely know he expects blood.''
''You don't call what happened last night action?'' Michael laughed.
''This wasn't exactly what I had in mind. I don't think most attorneys in Beverly Hills get shot at while trying to do their job.'' Kathleen stood up, knowing she was going to start saying things she didn't want to say. He held onto one hand. She clucked her tongue. ''I sound ungrateful and whiny. I don't mean to. It's just that my life has been very strange since I've come here.'' She laughed and handed him his juice, extricating herself. ''My life was very strange before I came here, too. It's not like I had a purpose, like you. I've been drifting while I stayed in the same place. Then, when I finally make my move, I'm disappointed when I find I can't leap right to the top and play with the big boys. That's selfish and unrealistic I know. It's a really childish attitude. You might as well know that now before we get any more involved. If you want to just kind of bow out now, I'll understand.''
Michael sat up straighter, the smile disappearing from his face. ''Thanks. I'm glad you told me. That's kind of you. I was awake all night wondering how I was going to just get back to my life and forget all about you.''
''Really?'' She sat heavily on the coffee table, her eyes wide with hurt and concern.
''No.'' He laughed. ''For your information, I was exhausted last night. I couldn't have stayed awake if you'd walked naked through this room.'' Those thick lashes lowered, his eyes lingering on the D and Y in Dorty that were kept afloat by her fine breasts. He looked at her knees, bared and just a bit bony and so damned sexy. Then he looked at her. ''Well, I might have been able to stay awake for that, but not much else. Besides, I figure if I hang around you I might just jump-start my life.''
''I wouldn't imagine that would be a problem.''
Michael threw off the covers she had put over him the night before, his killer grin going the same way. He'd slept in his jeans but barefoot and bare-chested he was a sexy package.
''I didn't think it was. I thought I was actually doing something 'till I started hanging around you.'' He pulled his jeans up at the waist, a ploy so that he wouldn't have to look at her while he confessed. ''Jules Porter told me no one knew who I was anymore. I think he was right.'' He touched her hair then cupped her chin with his hand. ''I think I've been fooling myself, Kathleen. One moment does not a lifetime define. Maybe if I help you unravel the messes around Lionel I'll be have done something that will actually have an end, not just a beginning and middle. Remember that rut I told you about? I think it was deeper than even I knew. Comfortable, deceptive and deep.'' He took a breath. Self flagellation was tough. But it was over, he was hardly bleeding and Kathleen didn't seem to think less of him. He smiled. ''Bathroom?''
Mesmerized, she pointed the way. Her apartment was small. It wasn't hard to find. When he came back she was still where he'd left her. He walked right up to her and took her in his arms. He kissed her, letting his hand wander down to gently cup her rear. Kathleen melted, as sure as if she'd been ice cream set out in the sun. Michael had just the opposite reaction.
''Thanks.'' He said when her head fell back and her eyes didn't open.
''For what?''
''Looking like that,'' he whispered. ''Bringing the outside in. I'd kind of forgotten all this good stuff existed. I thought I was standing alone in a fight, but I was just standing alone. So thanks.''
''Anytime,'' Kathleen breathed, her eyes still closed her lips still ready. He kissed them again and asked.
''Where'd you put that folder?''
''It's in the bedroom.''
''Shall I get it?'' Michael asked. ''Or do you want to get it together?''
Kathleen opened her eyes. She smiled without teeth, that mischievous glint back in her eyes. It was a great offer. She thought about it a minute too long.
''I'll get it,'' she said.
''You sure?''
''Yeah. But I'll put it back there sometime. Then we'll see what happens when we go looking for it together.''
''Meanwhile, let's kick some butt. Whaddaya say? Think the two of us from the wrong side of the tracks can tackle whatever it is that did Mr. Booker in?''
''I haven't got a clue.'' She wriggled out of his arms almost sorry she hadn't taken him up on his offer. But when she did, it was going to be so fine. Kathleen held onto that thought and got the folder, checked herself in the mirror and reached for her red, red lipstick. Thinking twice, she chucked it back on the dresser. He didn't think she looked so bad without her 'face'.
His shirt was on and tucked in by the time she got back. She laid the folder on the coffee table and watched Michael slip into his shoes. He ran his hands through his hair, picked up the folder and started to work.
This was the instant, the moment, the millisecond in time that marked a turning point in her life. Time could be marked like that, and all the other marked minutes of her life were forgotten. When Michael looked up at her, Kathleen listened intently because these first words she heard, in this new part of her life, would be terribly, terribly important. She leaned forward anxious to drink in every sound, every nuance, every tone of his voice. He touched her hand and looked into her eyes. He asked:
''Do you have Louise's number?''
''Come in, come in Kathleen.''
Gerry waved at her from behind his desk, coming toward her a second later. He held out his hand like Bert Parks to Miss America.
Kathleen stood with the door held against her chest as she smiled at Carl Walsh and tried to figure a way to duck out.
''No, you're busy. I'll come back. I didn't realize you had appointments today.''
Gerry was too quick. He had the door in his hand was pulling it open. ''Nonsense. Come in here and say hello to Carl. He's been asking about you.''
Carl Walsh stood up politely and nodded to her. He had a lovely, vote winning smile. She'd give him her vote if he would just sit down. She motioned him down but when he wouldn't go Kathleen walked slowly, and reluctantly, into the room. She was stiff from her roll in the dirt and both men took notice, but Carl covered up his surprise smoothly.
''I was hoping you're finding the Los Angeles area to your liking.'' She grinned gamely and limped. He kept going. ''It's always nice to get a new citizen's point of view.''
''I like it very much, thank you,'' Kathleen said eager to be done with the amenities and get on with the business of the day. Gerry had no idea what was waiting for him. She wasn't about to fill him in with Carl Walsh in the audience. She stopped and hoped she wouldn't have to walk any further. Of course Gerry insisted.
''Kathleen, what on earth has happened to you?'' He was staring at her knee where the huge bandage bulged under her stocking when he took her by the arm. Carl Walsh was holding out a chair. ''Sit down. Sit down.''
''Hope that didn't happen on city property. ''If it did, I'll have to give O'Doul & Associates the case so you'd have a conflict of interest and wouldn't be able to sue us.''
''No, it's not really as bad as it looks, and it happened on private property. It's a long story.''
''One I'd like to hear.'' Gerry clucked paternally, deftly covering his anger. ''I thought you were off to see Sarah Booker last night and then to dinner with Michael. I wouldn't think that would lead you to bodily injury. Michael didn't have anything to do with this, did he? If he did, I'll sue Tysco for all their worth. Employing a dangerous man like that.''
''Gerry, please,'' Kathleen tried to hush him. ''Michael helped me. I'll tell you about it later. Mr. Walsh, I'm sorry. Sometimes my uncle forgets that I'm his employee and not his daughter.'' She stood up stiffly and smiled as best she could. ''It was great to see you but I have some people in my office.'' To Gerry. ''I'd appreciate it if you'd come over when you can, Gerry.''
Kathleen offered her hand. Carl Walsh shook it. Kathleen gritted her teeth knowing the next move was going to send that shooting pain up her back. Funny that she hadn't noticed all that this morning when Michael was offering kisses to make it better.
''I've really got to be going.'' Carl said, suddenly anxious to be out of the office. Not that she could blame him. Between her and Gerry this place must seem like a nursing home. ''Gerry, you go ahead with Kathleen. I'll see myself out. It sounds like she's got her hands full on some front.'' He shook Gerry's hand too, holding it longer than was necessary. Kathleen limped away and disappeared behind the closed door of her office. Carl watched until she was safely away before walking to the door with the old man. ''Tysco business, Gerry? You're doing better than I realized if you're handling that. ''
''Sure, don't I wish that were the case? Tysco is only a small part of a problem we're handling for Mrs. Booker. Though even I must admit it gets more interesting by the moment.''
Carl Walsh nodded and the two men parted. Gerry gave Becky's desk a knock as he passed and stole a chocolate kiss from the pile in front of her before opening the door to Kathleen's office. He stood right there and cocked his head.
''Well, 'tis a party, I see.'' He smiled grimly. Stone faced Louise, Sarah, Michael and Kathleen looked at him. ''I can't wait to hear what the occasion is.''
Carl Walsh hadn't intended to go back downtown. In fact, he had intended to pick up a game of racquetball, sweat a little and check out the action. If there wasn't any he was going to give one of his little black book stand-by's a call for dinner. There was always a photographer hanging around the gym and a photo of him looking fit as a fiddle with a lovely woman on his arm wouldn't hurt. Huey and Dewy, the body guards, were off for the day, not that he needed them when there wasn't a crush around or special business to take care of. Now his plans had changed and the change threw him off the roll he'd been on.
Instead of enjoying his one afternoon off, away from a planned event, fund raiser or campaign speech, he was driving back toward Shay, Sylvester & Harrington chewing on his lip and cursing the street lights. More than once he picked up the mobile phone to just make a call but finally he decided against it. Mobile technology just wasn't up to snuff when it came to privacy.
Sweating lightly by the time he pulled into the underground garage, Carl parked in a handicapped space and walked quickly toward the elevator banks ignoring the curious looks of people who thought they'd seen him some place before. The last thing he wanted to have a little talk with a voter. He could feel a blue mood coming on fast, but he kept it at bay until the elevator deposited him at the offices of Shay, Sylvester & Harrington.
''Richard.''
He bypassed the receptionist with one word. She was on the phone fast to warn the man in the big corner office. Richard took the news well. He was smiling when Carl walked through the door. Carl was not. There would be no chatting this time.
''I paid a courtesy call on Gerry O'Doul. He'd been calling the office. I thought it would get him off my back. Damn. Damn. I'm glad I stopped by. Damn.'' Carl was pacing like a rabid dog in a cage. He pointed at Richard with a long finger and waggled it. ''You won't believe it.''
Richard handed him a drink. Carl grabbed it but it took him a minute to notice Richard was standing behind a chair waiting for him to sit. He shook his head and his free hand.
''Not this time, Richard. I'm not going to let you calm me down with one of your little talks about you taking care of everything. You've been taking care of everything, and I will admit you've done a hell of a job 'till now, but, Richard, it's going to fall apart. I am not kidding you.''
''All right, Carl. Fine. Let's talk. I'll sit. You walk if it makes you feel any better.'' Richard sat. It made him feel better. He didn't like being around tall men.
''That niece of his, she comes in and what does she talk about? Some supervisor at Tysco and Booker. Sarah Booker. I can't believe it. I'll never forget that name as long as I live. That idiot's wife. That blond was talking about the one guy I thought we didn't have to worry about anymore. That tall -'' Carl spun toward Richard. ''What's her damn name? Jesus!''
''Kathleen Cotter.'' Richard filled in the blank softly.
''Who cares.'' Carl took a swig of his drink. ''I swear, I can't believe it. This isn't good, Richard. This isn't good at all. What in the hell do you think they're doing? Christ. This is incredible. First the boys can't find the billing and now this. Thank God I went over there.'' He stopped. He drained his glass. His hands were shaking. ''What in the heck do you think they're up to? That damn old man. I should have known something was up. Bumping into me that way. Calling the office. Damn old man's trying to make a name for himself on my back.''
''He's not up to anything, Carl. I suggest you relax.'''' Richard soothed him patiently, his look cool. It infuriated Carl almost as much as his condescending words.
''Right. That's what you told me last time when we found out Booker was asking questions.''
''And everything was fine, wasn't it?''
''Yeah, if you call suicide a solution.'' Carl snorted. Actually, it was a solution he had considered in his darkest moods. Thankfully, he was a coward.
''We were lucky. The man was imbalanced,'' Richard answered evenly. He picked up a trinket from his desk. It had been an award for something or other. He didn't remember where he'd gotten it, or from whom, but it felt good and heavy in his hand. He would like to use it to knock some sense and confidence into Carl Walsh.
''Well I don't think we can count on Gerry O'Doul doing the same thing. The guy is relentless. He'll have his niece on our tail until they find out whatever they want
to find out. Would you figure that someone who looked like her would even have the brains to ask the right questions?''
''As a matter of fact, Ms. Cotter is quite competent. As to Gerry, let him be.'' Richard put the thing down. If he didn't, he might throw it at Carl. With his luck he'd kill him and they'd have to find another candidate. ''There's nothing to worry about. This is a small problem. Kathleen Cotter is representing Booker's ex-wife against the estate and the insurance company. It's no more sinister than that. It's a civil matter. It will run its course.''
Carl stopped cold and stared indignantly at Richard Jacobsen.
''You know about this? You know that those two fools have been sniffing around Tysco? You invited them to the party knowing that, and you didn't tell me about it?''
''It's wise to keep your enemies close, Carl. These two barely qualify, but. . .'' He raised his lovely hands as if to ask 'what could they do?'.
''Then I must be a hell of a smart guy, Richard, because I practically live with you.'' Carl started pacing again.
''Thank goodness you don't,'' Richard drawled. ''I prefer my world to be a little more ordered than yours.''
''Come on, come on. Cut the crap. This is not the end of the world. It's an annoyance. That's what you're telling me?'' Carl put his glass on the desk, hitting it a little too hard. Richard gave him a look. It was enough. Carl crumpled into a chair.
Richard leaned forward. Carl had never seen Richard nervous He probably had no nerves. He was like a human calendar, ticking off projects, adding new ones to replace those he'd successfully completed. The indirect lighting caught his glasses and reflected the light so that it appeared there were no eyes behind the lenses.
''Carl,'' Richard said patiently, ''the business arrangements you and I have with one another, and the arrangements we both have with Tysco among others, are simply that - business arrangements. I want you to remember that. Because, if you don't remember that now, you will have a difficult time dealing with the future. I can't imagine these histrionics when we must accomplish as much in Washington.'' Richard moved less than an inch but Carl could now see one myopic eye watching him. Carl shifted, too, trying to find the spot where Richard's eyes were hidden behind the reflection. It didn't work. Richard continued unaware that he was giving Carl the heebie-jeebies.
Character Witness Page 22
