Resisting Redemption

by Amabel Daniels

  Roxie massaged the bridge of her nose. “Yes, it’s awkward with the work stuff.”

  Only for now, she wanted to say. As soon as Ben won his case, she would leave with Grant. At his own private practice there wouldn’t be fraternization issues. Though she couldn’t spill the beans to Lia about his plan to depart. “But there’s more.”

  “How so? Your daughter? You said he’s great with her.”

  “He is.” Roxie struggled for the best words without revealing too much. “I just wish this were easier. That we’d met in different circumstances. It makes me feel like I’m not the person he thinks he sees.”

  Lia waited for more and Roxie debated elaborating.

  “I’m his assistant. He thinks I’ve stuck with him for some grand purpose of doing the right thing. That I’m some admirable, respectable bright mind striving for Ben’s justice.”

  “You are. You’re a very hard worker.”

  Roxie deadpanned. “I took this job because of that bonus. That freaking bonus for the end of the case. Money. I need money. That’s why I did it. If there wasn’t a big, fat reward in dollar signs, I would have said ‘the heck with this’ the first day I met his difficult, pain in the ass attitude.” She absently watched her thumb flip through the top edge of the papers in her arm. “You realize how hard it was in the beginning? Dealing with his BS? Running around like a dime-a-dozen gopher? If I hadn’t had that bonus dangling like a carrot above my head, I wouldn’t have lasted more than day one. Never would have lingered long enough to see how far and easily I couldn’t help but fall in love with him.”

  Love. That was the something more for her. Speaking it aloud, she felt freer, knowing she wasn’t fighting anymore. Yes. She loved him. Promises and rules be damned.

  She glanced up at Lia, regretting how she’d let her voice raise. Instead of the cute, ‘aww’ smile on the woman’s face, Roxie saw fear. Horror. A paralyzed display of Oh-My-God.

  Chewing on her lower lip, Roxie took a deep breath. “He’s, he’s right behind me, isn’t he?”

  Lia opened and closed her mouth, working for a reply. “Uh huh.”

  Then she ran, click-clacked her hasty retreat out of the room.

  Roxie winced, waiting to hear a crash from the startled and klutzy woman dashing away on unstable heels. Silence enveloped her. Even the copier had shut down. Heart thundering in her chest, she pivoted to face Grant in the doorway.

  His face was stone-still. His lips were set in a firm line, his eyes unblinking, that steely blue gaze searing her from behind the glasses that gave him his scholarly sophistication. No jaw tensing. No furrowing eyebrows. Nothing.

  Roxie stepped closer, unable to resist fidgeting under his, what? Glare? Stare? Was he mad? Confused? Shocked? He had to hate her now. Her heart pumped harder and faster, emphasizing the ache in her chest. No, he couldn’t despise her.

  “Grant, I—”

  “Is that true?”

  She took a breath for courage. “Yes. But I—”

  “How much is this bonus for?”

  Lowering her face, she was too ashamed to say.

  He strode forward and she jerked her attention back up. “Eighty grand at the end of the year.”

  He squinted, his features conveying a distaste like the time she’d given him what the barista had told her was a Dirty Chai.

  “That’s it?” He scoffed. “I’m pulling in millions on this case and all you’d get is a handful of change?”

  Handful of change? No, she’d never deluded herself to understand his wealth. But that handful of change was a huge deal.

  He rolled his eyes. “Didn’t you counter for more?”

  Her jaw dropped. “No?”

  Closing the space between them, he stared at her and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Always counter, Rox. Always.”

  She disliked how he still maintained his space. He didn’t seem mad, but… “I’m sorry, Grant.”

  “For what?”

  She frowned. “Not telling you.”

  “That you love me?”

  “I was going to. Not telling you about the bonus.”

  “What’s there to apologize for?”

  It wasn’t simple to explain. Her motivation to stick with him was for money, that evil he proclaimed that made the world go round. Not out of something loftier.

  “You needed money. You saw a chance to make it. How is that wrong?”

  Nothing. But it wasn’t that black and white anymore. This wasn’t a job, he wasn’t a boss. He was her love.

  “It swayed my original perceptions of you. I looked at this job, at you, as a means to pay bills. Now that all of this”—she waved a hand between them—“is so much more, I feel dishonest.”

  “First impressions may last, but there is always room to make more.” He brought her into his arms, resting his forehead to hers. “All that matters is you stuck around. For paycheck, for a bonus, for whatever. At some point, it changed.”

  She scoffed. “Changed?” A smile started at her lips. “It blew up my brain. You have any idea how hard you’ve made this? I wanted to smack you so many times. Tell you exactly how stuffy and picky you are. Still want to sometimes.” She cupped his jaw, relishing his smooth shave but missing the rough friction of his stubble more. “But now I see beneath all your peculiarities.”

  “I’m not perfect.” He kissed her palm.

  “That makes two of us.” She caressed her thumb on his cheek.

  He sighed. “Debatable. Roxie, as much as you think this is going to change my feelings about you, you’re wrong. No. You’re right. It solidifies how strong you are. I know I’m difficult. I hold high expectations. You took on a job with challenges and weathered it, come hell or high water. That’s who you are. A survivor. A fighter. That’s what I admire about you most.”

  For him to speak so candidly about himself, admitting his flaws, it was touching.

  “All I care is that you found this job. You applied. And you stayed. You are my better half, Roxie, the lost part of what I’ve needed to ground me all my life. Smack me. Yell at me. Do your worst. I’ll respect you for it. You make me want to be better. To refrain from swearing because Lucy might be in the room. To remember to say ‘please’ and not be an ass. You make me want to be the best man I can be. For you. And Lucy.”

  She tipped her mouth closer to his to softly kiss him. Humbler confessions couldn’t be possible.

  “And after we win this case”—he wrapped his arms tighter around her—“none of that crap will matter. I’ll re-appeal your case against Jimmy. He will get what he deserves. You can go back and finish that degree you’ve built your life for and give Lucy the stability and security she deserves.”

  She shook her head. But he continued.

  “It won’t be charity. It will be me taking care of what’s mine, just as you would for me.”

  God. His sweetness, so blunt, raw, and determined. How could she ever have thought he was heartless, cold, and unfeeling—

  “This sure is precious.”

  Roxie jolted back from Grant’s embrace at the sarcastic quip from behind him.

  Couldn’t she have learned a damn lesson about having intimate or personal conversations anywhere but within Grant’s locked office? Or at least have shut the damn door to the copy room?

  Tara sneered at them as she walked further in the room, heading for a wall of office supplies.

  Grant’s chest heaved as he exhaled deeply, glaring at Tara’s back. He still held onto Roxie’s hand.

  Tension choked the available oxygen from the room. Should she give them space to speak—some kind of courtesy owed to ex-spouses? Should she sass back to the blonde and give her a piece of her mind, maybe warn her to back off? Turn the other cheek and ignore her? She chose the first and last options. Grant and Tara’s history was a disaster she refused to implicate herself in. And for the sake of her and Grant’s future together, she knew retaliation would be immature. Extraction from the situation would be wisest.


  She put her copies and notes into Grant’s hand. Leaning close, she whispered, “I’m going to run to the bathroom. See you in your office?”

  He gazed at her, softening his features, and nodded. “Don’t forget you’re lunching with Kelly.”

  No, she wasn’t a coward. He was simply better trained in handling that vapid woman.

  Needing a minute to compose herself after the winded start of the day, for, oh, the first forty-five minutes of being in the offices, Roxie went to the restroom at the end of the hall instead of the private facilities in Grant’s office. Space was necessary to dissect all that had transpired.

  She entered a stall, locked the door, and slumped to the toilet, sitting on the polished closed lid. Letting her eyes drift shut, she inhaled and exhaled deeply.

  She loved him, and he her.

  This was her virgin experience of such a profound bond. Boyfriends had been meaningless in her youth. The loss of her family set a wall around her soul, refusing anyone’s entrance. Only when Lucy was born, even when she was still kicking and somersaulting in her womb, did Roxie love again. But the love between mother and child would never be comparable to the romance and addiction to a lover. Both fiercely captivating and unbreakable, but distinct in their own ways.

  How would it be when Ben’s case was over? She’d work with Grant, no doubt. There was no chance of her not following his path. But could he really avenge Jimmy’s blackmailing? Rescue her from the debts she incurred and provide her a means to become a vet?

  Since losing her dreams, she’d adapted to reality. Much like the immediate aftermath of the state trooper coming to her front door when she was almost sixteen and telling her that her family was gone, poof, just like that, Roxie accepted her hardships and moved on with her life.

  When Jimmy blackmailed her and royally destroyed her chance of offering a stable environment for Lucy, she’d faced the music and womaned up.

  For Grant to offer her a second chance, an option to reclaim her dreams…it was a unique proposition. How would she be able to be close to Lucy if she were a vet, starting up her own practice, the long days of hard work and tough schedules to found a decent business?

  The entrance to the restroom opened with a faint whoosh and Roxie shot her legs up, bracing the soles of her shoes to the shiny ebony door in front of her. Childish, perhaps, her attempt to hide in the bathroom, but she wanted a few more minutes to herself to simply think—especially after forty-eight hours with Grant at his place. God help her if it was Lia searching for her, wanting to finish their conversation.

  Tips of blonde hair showed at the space below the stall door and disappeared. Tara? Checking if anyone was in there?

  Roxie frowned and devoted her attention to listening.

  “Okay. I’m clear,” Tara said.

  A phone call? Was she speaking on her phone? Only one set of footsteps snicked on the floor.

  “No, the office isn’t safe. Jordan can hear me in there.”

  Hides from her PA, too?

  “Just chill, all right. I don’t care what anyone tweeted or what the local channel is saying. They just want to keep shit interesting.”

  Clacks of her heels proved her pacing. “No. There’s nothing to worry about. Because the case isn’t going anywhere in that direction!”

  She snorted. “No, he doesn’t have anything new on the case. Trust me. I had it in my hands while he took off to mope and cry in the mountains. I know this case. He doesn’t have anything new on you because there’s nothing to have.”

  “Well, then he called to ask a question. Nothing to sweat about. I’ve got this under control.”

  “For fuck’s sake. He’s not a superhero. I don’t care how many cases he used to win. He’s still a human. How do you think I got him away from the practice in the first place, huh? I took care of that. Yeah, well I won’t have to distract him away from anything this time. He’s all cozied up with his assistant. Sleeping with the bitch and so lovey-dovey it’s pathetic. Really, just walked in on them. He’s not going to be giving this case one hundred percent when she’s fucking his brains out.”

  Roxie glared at the door, trying to keep up with the one-sided conversation, wishing she could be recording it.

  “And he hasn’t even gotten the news yet. Yeah, going to tell him today. He wanted to let the police do their thing. And as soon as word is out, then the press can have a field day with it. There’s no way he will be able to recover from the damage of this development.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  A swoosh announced Tara’s exit from the bathroom and Roxie waited in her stall, her legs extended to push her feet against the door. Rigid and not daring to move, even after she was alone again with only the sinks and toilets for company, she blinked, repeating the words she’d eavesdropped on, trying to staple them to her memory.

  Tara got the Rohn case from Grant in the first place?

  What development?

  He’s too distracted to pay attention to the case?

  As she let the vicious lawyer’s comments replay through her mind, she sat there longer than she realized. Darkness struck through the room—she’d been so still the motion sensors had clicked off. Plunged into blackness, she jolted from her reverie.

  In a jump, she was on her feet, activating illumination once again. Leaving the restrooms, she did a fast pace to Grant’s office and found him on the phone.

  “Where have you been hiding? Are you feeling all right?” he asked with his hand over the mouthpiece of his phone, his brows slanted.

  Feeling? Like she wanted to simultaneously punch Tara and probe at what Tara had done to him to prevent him getting the case.

  “I’m fine.” She brushed her hair from her face and tried to compose herself to hide her furious confusion.

  “Kelly called. She’s at the organic deli on the corner. I assumed you had left already.”

  Shit. Kelly. Roxie cringed. Now was not the time for initiating girl talk, or putting up with satisfying sibling protectiveness in the realm of dating.

  “Right. Uh, I was…delayed.” She rushed to her tote and extracted her purse. Phone. Money. Good to go. She waved to him as she backed out of the office.

  Walking through the lobby, to the elevator, and then out of the building, Roxie moved in an unobservant stroll, not noticing any of her surroundings, automatically putting one foot in front of the other as she forced her brain to figure it out.

  Grant was the better lawyer—per inner-office speak via Chris and Lia. Tara was the second up to her ex-husband. She’d gotten the Rohn case because she’d insisted on it. Huge, important case for the firm, and she’d wanted her name attached to it. Never mind she’d intended to sacrifice Ben on a false guilty plea, she’d wanted the case.

  When Tara began on Ben’s case, all those months ago, Grant was—how did Tara word it in the bathroom? Crying and moping in the mountains. When he’d gone on his leave of absence.

  Roxie gasped as she approached the front door of the deli. Tara had influenced Grant to take a leave of absence? How low did the woman go? Sure, he’d been devastated at the divorce and losing the baby. His goals for a family down the drain. Roxie couldn’t leave it to coincidence. Tara was taking credit for getting Grant out of the way…

  From inside the eatery, Kelly tapped on a window, a smiling Lucy on her lap.

  The sight of her daughter warmed her heart and eased the tense set of her shoulders, but the weight of something beyond the obvious still pulled her down. Offering a faint smile in return, she waved and went inside.

  “Thinking about standing us up?” Kelly asked as Roxie came to their table.

  “Never. I was…” Roxie took off her jacket and hung it on the back of her chair. “Distracted.”

  “I’ll say. Thought you were going to walk right into the door.”

  “Hmm.” Roxie grinned at Lucy reaching for her, and Kelly hoisted the girl over.

  “Everything okay?” Kelly asked.

  “No.” Hell,
she may as well be honest.

  “Anything I can help with?” Kelly said and then sipped on a water.

  Roxie stared at her, wondering why she’d offer to help. What happened to the bristly ‘are you good enough to be with my brother’ attitude?

  Kelly must have picked up on Roxie’s curious vibes. “So you’re sleeping with my brother. He seems happy. Happier than I’ve ever seen him, almost like he can take a deep breath.” She shrugged. “That’s good enough for me. And if you hurt him, I will hunt you down.”

  Roxie nodded slowly. All right then…

  “Besides, I Googled you. Interesting story about the horse.”

  A sigh shot from Roxie’s lips. Dammit, she did not want to dredge up that business and explain all that was in the past.

  Kelly held a hand up before she could speak. “No, no. I’m not here to judge. Mixed up one drug with another? Bull. You were a sixth-year vet. Meds were probably in year two. You were acing school. You don’t just forget that kind of stuff. I call your bluff. Even if you managed to fool the judge.”

  Roxie blinked quickly. Unbelievable.

  “I bet there’s a good story behind this. And maybe it involves what brought you to Grant in the first place, wanting him to represent you in the future or something—”

  “No!” Lucy jerked at Roxie’s sudden outburst and Roxie bounced her on her lap, wrapping her in a hug to comfort her. “Not like that. My legal woes are what brought me to Grant, to Kaniz, for a job. For money to pay back my debts and fines and, just everything on my shoulders. But I never sought him out for legal assistance. He has offered to help me, after Ben’s case. But I’m hesitant to dredge up the past.”

  “Well, I’m sure you had your reasons,” Kelly said. “By the way, I ordered you a turkey club, no mayo. When I figured you were late, I texted Grant for an idea of what you’d like.”

  And he even got it right, down to skipping the nasty condiment.

  “Kelly,” Roxie said, unwilling to discuss anything further about herself, anxious for information about Grant. “What’s the story with Tara?”

  Her lips nearly to her straw, Kelly froze. She peered up at Roxie and closed her lips. “What do you mean?”