Resisting Redemption

by Amabel Daniels

  He gave his statement to the cops, claiming he was with Ben during the party at Velocity, except for a trip to the bathroom and a chat with an old friend. Too sketchy for Grant’s liking, but getting more info from the bodyguard would be as easy as straining juice from a dried orange.

  “They did. But that’s only one source of information. This won’t be an overnight miracle. I’ll need time to give this case my best. I will request as many delays and extensions as I need to get to the bottom of this, but I can’t do any of that unless Ben stays in the game.”

  Sheree and Marcus shared a glance.

  “Sheree, did you marry a liar?” Roxie asked.

  “He’d never lie to me,” Sheree said.

  “And you believe he’s innocent?”

  “Ben wouldn’t kill. He’s not like that. I know the rags make him out to be such a hothead, but that’s just publicity. Part of all the fame. He’d never kill anyone.”

  “Then why would you want him to lie and say that he did?” Roxie asked.

  Sheree covered her face in her hands and cried softly.

  Grant tapped his fingers on the table and could have hugged Roxie right then and there if she wasn’t holding a baby between them. She got them. She snagged Sheree hook, line, and sinker. And if Grant needed Ben to come through and plead ‘not guilty’, Sheree would be the voice of reason he’d listen to.

  “We’ll see you in court for the arraignment tomorrow,” Marcus said as he consoled his daughter-in-law. Grant nodded and waved for the check.

  Without speaking, Grant tended to the bill as Roxie gathered up Lucy’s toys into her large bag. Marcus whispered and comforted Sheree as they left the table and headed for the exit.

  Roxie led the way to the door and Grant trailed behind her, taking in the sight of her holding the sleeping baby. He had no clue what to say because he couldn’t organize his thoughts.

  Was it reluctant admiration? Did he want to kiss her little feet for pushing Tara out of the way and getting the Rohns to side with him?

  Was it jealousy? Did the acid in his throat burn at the idea of her with another man?

  Was it annoyance? Was he frustrated at the distraction of having a baby at a dinner meeting that would be crucial to Ben’s case?

  Was it…envy?

  She turned to face him. Her scowl set the tone. “Don’t even start. It’s late and I’m too tired for any bull from you.”

  He opened his mouth to protest—to argue what, he didn’t know—but she wasn’t going to sass him.

  “I know you hate kids. I know you think mothers are pathetic workers. We can’t handle a job like other non-encumbered humans can.”

  What?

  “Well, that’s just what you think. And I hardly care what you think, Grant. Sometimes you’re almost as unfeeling and icy as the woman you divorced. I wouldn’t have brought Lucy if I could have avoided it. I’m sincerely sorry for the distraction. I recognize there is a time and place for everything. But there is no way in hell you’re going to use this as an excuse to fire me.”

  If she hadn’t been holding Lucy, he bet she would have poked her finger in his chest.

  “I—” He filled his chest with air and fiddled with his tie, searching to reclaim his authority. “A meeting with clients is not the proper location for an infant. If—”

  “Don’t worry. You won’t see her ever again. I get it. I wouldn’t want her to suffer such nasty company again anyway.” She stepped to the awaiting taxi at the curb and opened the back door. “I’ll see you at the office tomorrow.”

  And she left.

  Chapter Ten

  The next morning, an hour before Ben’s arraignment was scheduled to begin, Roxie stood back and examined the quaint living room of her apartment. A foldable playpen lined the perimeter of one wall of the room. There were no sharp edges or corners Lucy could impale herself on. Carpeting covered every inch of the floor—padding for her topples. Toys lay in a heap. A full bottle of milk and a tray of crackers waited on the TV tray next to Sophia, who sat on the couch.

  “Are you sure?” Roxie chewed on her nail and glanced at Sophia

  “Girl, you’re going to be late. We’ll be fine.”

  No surprise Sophia would insist she could handle it. She had the same kind of never-give-up attitude that she had herself.

  “It’s just a boot. A fractured foot bone. Not my stinking leg. They didn’t give me crutches. I’m not doped up on any painkillers.”

  Roxie sighed. She’d considered those factors all night. But it didn’t mean she liked the situation. For Lucy or Sophia.

  “I ain’t never struggled to handle Lucy before and I ain’t going to today. I might be a little slow on my feet, but it’s of no harm to her,” Sophia said. “As long as she doesn’t figure out how to take her first steps today.”

  Roxie smoothed down her skirt and sighed. She chanced another look at Lucy, still sleeping in Sophia’s lap.

  “You go on and show that boss man you’re superwoman. I’ve got this. I’m not so stubborn I’d put our little angel in danger. We’re going to be fine.” When Roxie still stalled, Sophia waved at the door. “Don’t be late, girl. I’ll send you pictures as soon as she’s awake. Go on now, you know how hard it is to leave her when she’s up and looking at you.”

  “I know. I know. Thank you, for everything.” Roxie grabbed her purse and tote bag. “Just don’t overdo it. And text me as soon as you even think you need help.”

  “You don’t need to thank me. Now go on, girl! Get on to work.”

  After Roxie left her apartment, she hustled to the bus for a ride to the law firm. Grant had sent her a message while she must have been in the shower, because her first directive was to get the files from his desk, then meet him at the courthouse.

  She took a seat on the bus and checked the agenda for the day. Ben’s arraignment would determine how the day would proceed. The day before, Grant had ordered her to fill in every minute of the whole week with appointments with the persons of interest in the case. He was either confident there would be a case, or just reaching on a limb and hoping. If Ben pleaded ‘not guilty’, Grant’s days—and hers—were going to be jam-packed with meetings and phone calls.

  Tucking her phone away, she closed her eyes and dreaded facing her oh-so-attractive boss again.

  She would’ve had to be blind to miss his furious glares the night before. His jaw had ticked so frequently through the evening, she was amazed he still had any teeth to chew his food. His judgment, she could take, but his termination of her job, she couldn’t. He’d just have to swallow the fact she had a baby. She’d be damned if he discriminated against her for having reproduced. This was the twenty-first century. He was a lawyer, for God’s sake! Given his field of expertise, she’d think he’d have an inkling of how to behave like a nondiscriminatory and contemporary professional.

  At the station closest to the courthouse, she took a deep breath and exited the bus.

  You’re doing this for Lucy. You take his superior-complex crap and deal with it. Keep this job and get that year-end bonus. Only…ten more months to go. Head held high, she walked through the crowded front lobby.

  “Mr. Newland!” A throng of reporters called out his name as she neared the massive entrance doors. “Do you have a moment?”

  Roxie turned as the mob rushed to the sidewalk, flanking him as he strode for the building. He met her gaze and pointed to the doors. She proceeded inside and he followed a moment later, still silent and giving the press nothing.

  He huffed out a breath as he seemed to relax in the relative peace of the lobby, the cameramen and reporters still yelling from outside. He gestured for her to pass through security.

  “Is she here yet?”

  “Tara?” She shrugged. “I’ve just arrived myself.”

  “Sheree and Marcus met with Ben this morning. They’re probably inside already.” He emptied his pockets at the scanner. “Where’s…” He pointed a finger at her chest. “Where’s your child?
”

  Roxie set her jaw and stepped through the detector. “Lucy is with Sophia.”

  “A nanny?”

  “More like an aunt.”

  “Where’s her father?”

  “Sophia’s?” Roxie handed him his briefcase as he came through the detector. “I think he passed away about sixty years ago.”

  He glared at her as they proceeded toward the courtroom. “Lucy’s. She doesn’t stay with her father?”

  “She doesn’t have one.”

  “Don’t tell me. Divine conception?”

  Roxie tossed him a barbed look. They paused at the door which led to the courtroom. When she moved to enter, he held her back.

  Okay. Ignorance was my best option. He really has to hash this out now? “Her father was a one-night stand. He never chose to acknowledge her.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Jimmy had no trouble acknowledging Lucy’s existence when he used her as blackmail, but otherwise he pretended she didn’t exist.

  “What? What’s that look for?”

  He grimaced. “Ever hear of a condom?”

  She faced Grant again and chewed on her lower lip, tempering herself to choose her words carefully. So what if this isn’t his business? Keep this damn job. Do not piss off the boss. “We used one.”

  “Let me guess. It broke.”

  Narrowing her eyes, she couldn’t help but wonder at his obvious annoyance. She’d expected judgment, but not the kind he seemed hung up on. He didn’t appear bothered she had a child, only how she obtained one.

  Interesting. And still none of his effing business. She refused to return to their closed-lipped style of conversation. If they were to work together, and in increasingly tight quarters, they needed to be able to talk to each other.

  “He used a condom. I was also on birth control. From a biological statistic, the odds were probably at a 0.0001% chance of conception.”

  He studied her.

  “What else would you like to know? What else is going to help clarify the crappy impression you’ve made of me?”

  “She was a mistake? And you kept her?”

  “No. Yes. I certainly hadn’t planned on her. But she’s not a mistake. I love her. It just wasn’t the way I ever envisioned starting a family. She’s my daughter and nothing will ever be more important in my life.”

  Grant frowned deeper.

  She held a hand up. “Which doesn’t mean I can’t do my job! She is my life. But it doesn’t imply I can’t also have employment. What are you, a flashback from the fifties?”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.” He snorted. “If you were so careless to have gotten knocked up with some stranger, then I have to wonder if you can—”

  She fisted his tie and pulled him closer. “I was not careless. You think you have the right to belittle me? I took all possible precautions. Not to mention, I probably hadn’t even had sex for two years before…” She released his tie, reddening at her impulsive confession. She jabbed her nail into his chest.

  “I wasn’t a slut who slept around. I took a break. For one night, I took a break from studying and working and thought, what the hell? I’ll go to a bar and actually have a drink. Maybe I’ll dance with someone. Maybe I’ll be like every other person in the world and get laid. I did nothing wrong except carry my baby to term and love her. I’ll be goddamned if you get all high and mighty on me.” She barked a laugh. “You think you’re one to harp about my sex life when you were married to that pissy Fembot for how many years?”

  The uniformed guard at the door they stood near let out a whoop and clapped. “You tell him, honey!”

  Grant ran his hand through his hair and avoided Roxie’s eyes. “Do not compare your one-night stand to my previous marriage.”

  A warning? She crossed her arms.

  “You have no idea,” he said and stepped closer so he could drop to a whisper. “You don’t even want to know.”

  “Know what?”

  “Rebounding with your assistant?” Tara called out from down the hall.

  Roxie and Grant met each other’s gaze and stepped apart automatically. Tara strode down the hall toward them.

  Roxie ignored Tara and straightened Grant’s tie. He kept his glare on her with such intensity, she couldn’t help but jerk the knot with excess force at his neck. He cleared his throat and beckoned for them to proceed to the door.

  “Ladies first.”

  Tara led the way into the courtroom. As they approached the defendant’s table, Grant patted Marcus on the back and Sheree on the hand. Somber silence filled the room with only little whispers to break the void of noise. Wood-paneled walls didn’t suffocate like a windowless log cabin, but presented a stringent, scholarly atmosphere. Clerks and officers sat at their stations, preparing their instruments as they awaited their duties.

  Taking the lead, Tara sat at the first seat of the defendant’s table. A seat was left vacant, then Grant and Roxie took their places on the bench behind. She spun around and took in the details of the expansive room, the environment and protocol both unwelcomely familiar. She turned in her seat, smiling at Marcus and Sheree behind them. Sonny—she recognized Ben’s bodyguard from the case’s photos and last night’s dinner—sat like a sentinel next to Sheree. Peering past them, she found the solemn faces of other familiar people. Jaydon, Ben’s closest teammate. Dave, Josh’s brother and manager. Kylie, Josh’s ex-model girlfriend. All individuals she’d seen countless times in the police documents she’d organized for Grant. All the people who’d been at Velocity the night Josh was shot. Roxie was sure other famous faces sat in the visitors’ section in the back, either fans or family of Josh’s, or fans or teammates of Ben’s.

  Fancy schmancy.

  She leaned around Grant and saw Tara sorting papers in her file. Roxie didn’t know what to do and risked a glance at Grant. He sat still with his elbow on the arm of the bench and his chin in his hand. Relaxed and bemused. She leaned closer.

  “Are you nervous?”

  He shook his head no.

  “Are you ever nervous?”

  He nodded.

  She straightened in her seat. Determined to be purposeful, she extracted a notepad from her bag.

  If he wasn’t going to be antsy, she’d cover that habit for both of them. Seated in front of a judge’s throne, the vacant space of a jury’s area…the austere surroundings reminded her of her own case not too long ago. Only months before she’d been a trembling, panicked mess of a woman, sitting on the witness stand, lying under oath that she’d had a brain fart and gave Bolt the wrong injection. Her migraine-inducing fear that the jury might not believe her, might not buy her lies.

  “All rise.”

  A judge entered. Ben was escorted in shortly thereafter. He gave a brief smile to Sheree as he came close. Sitting in his designated seat next to Tara, he ignored Tara as she leaned to speak to him, and instead turned to Roxie and Grant.

  Tara slapped a pen against the table after his snub.

  Roxie dared to face Ben for a moment and he raised his brows. Ben leaned close to whisper.

  “How old is your daughter?”

  Small talk? He’s at court and he’s asking about Lucy? That’s what he talked about with Sheree?

  She swallowed. “Eight months.”

  “We’ve been trying for a while now. Can’t wait to start a family,” he said.

  Well, there’s always conjugal visits, right?

  She nodded instead of replying.

  He gave her a small smile and Grant leaned closer to Ben. “So what’s it going to be?”

  “Thought you’re supposed to get me the fuck out of here. Not guilty. And tell your ex to back off my case.”

  “Consider it done.” Grant leaned back in his seat. He noiselessly tapped his fingers to the armrest as the judge read the indictment for murder and state procedural mumbo-jumbo about the defendant’s plea.

  Roxie could hardly sit still. Ben was pleading ‘not guilty’. Grant was going to try the case. Her heart raced, like a spr
inter waiting for the blast to start a race. Let the games begin!

  Games? No. This was Ben’s life. Grant was going to seek out the real killer. She was going to help a superstar convince a jury he didn’t murder a self-righteous priggish musician. Not a game at all.

  As the seriousness of the situation settled on her conscience, she fidgeted in her seat and peeked at Grant. He hadn’t budged from his stoic composure. At her attention, he slipped a hand lower and set it on her bare knee, stilling her bouncing foot.

  She hadn’t even known she was doing it. His warm hand shot shivers along her leg, all the way to her scalp and the tips of her toes.

  He met her gaze.

  Damn, if he wasn’t a cool customer.

  A judge spoke from his bench, and Grant, Tara, and Ben stood. Then Ben stated his plea of ‘not guilty’, and Grant said some words. Roxie was too rushed with excitement and nerves to pay attention to the details. It took great restraint to resist leaning in front of Grant to check Tara’s reaction to losing control of the case. Before Roxie knew what to expect next, a uniformed guard came to lead Ben away.

  “I’ve got this, man,” Grant said as they shook hands.

  Ben’s reply was an even glare.

  “Miss Malone?” Grant took Roxie’s elbow and directed her out of the courtroom.

  In the hallway, chatter and footsteps sounded in a flurry. If he hadn’t kept a grip on her arm, Roxie was sure she would have lost Grant in the crush. Tara’s heels snicked across the floor after them.

  “You asshole,” she said.

  Uh-oh. She-devil has a growl.

  Grant ignored Tara and slid through a cluster of suited men, pulling Roxie in tow. Outside in the morning sunlight, he held up a hand to block off the reporters’ yells. He didn’t let go of her arm until they neared his black sedan.

  She entered and buckled in to the passenger seat. Still, he said nothing. She cleared her throat and consulted the agenda on her phone, and then she glanced at Grant. He drove with his left hand in a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. His other hand rested on the gear stick. He rotated the pad of his index finger in a circle around the pad of his thumb. Clockwise, counter-clockwise, clockwise. Smoothly, he clutched the stick and shifted up a gear. Even though he had his shirt and jacket on, she could sense the power in his arm as he made that simple transition.