Knock 'Em Dead. Rhonda Pollero
“It’s on my to-do list.” I grimaced while a neon sign flashed “Wrong Answer” in my head.
“That’s your problem. The minute I got into the musicians’ union, I signed up for the pension plan. Your sister, who is nearly five years your junior, has a 401K and an IRA. Granted, my pension is small, but at least I understood the value of saving and of maximizing my earning potential. You’ve chosen to be a secretary.”
She said it as if “secretary” and “serial killer” were synonymous. I badly wanted to say, “Never mind, forget I asked,” but my pride wasn’t going to help get Jane a good attorney. “I’m a para—” Don’t go there. “Mom, will you help me if it comes to that?”
“How much?”
“I don’t know. Maybe nothing, maybe a lot. Or, whatever you’re comfortable with.”
“How do you plan to repay this money? If I decide to help you.”
I felt a small flicker of hope. She hadn’t said yes but she hadn’t said no either. “I’ll, um, make monthly payments.”
“Are you willing to sign a note?”
Absolutely. So long as it says, “Screw you for making me grovel,” in big, bold letters. “Whatever you want.”
“I’ll speak to my financial adviser and call you back.”
“I’m in a bit of a time crunch here.”
“Do you want the money or not, Finley?”
That big black spider was now crawling up my ass, but I managed to say politely, “Thank you for your generosity.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Any chance your divorce lawyer has an in with any of these criminal attorneys?” I read off the list provided by Becky.
Her industrial-strength Botox must be fighting the good fight against the weight of her attempted frowns today. “So you want me to have my attorney vet these names for you as well? Am I going to do everything?”
No, just two things. And I’ll be paying for them for the rest of my natural life. “I would appreciate any help. As I said, time is an issue.”
“You work for a gaggle of lawyers. They can’t help you?”
“My firm doesn’t do criminal stuff.”
“It isn’t your firm, Finley. You’re an employee.”
The spider was eating my liver. Slowly, I repeated myself in my most humble tone. “The firm I work for doesn’t do criminal work.”
“I won’t make any promises, but I’ll see what I can do.”
I thanked her and hung up feeling like I’d gone all fifteen rounds in a prize fight. And lost. Deep down she was a good person. It was just hard to remember that fact when she wrapped everything in a blanket of disapproval.
With funding in the works, I needed to get to the office and touch base with Liv. I called Concierge Plus and got a busy signal. Which was weird since I knew they had four phone lines, so I tried her cell.
“I’ve got my loan officer on hold, he’s crunching numbers to see how much I can pull out of the company and my house. I’ve got the Mercedes dealer on another line, trying to negotiate a decent buy-back price for my car. I’ve got concerned clients calling for reassurance and five more messages from Shaylyn Kidwell and Zack Davis.”
“Sorry.”
“Forget them, we’ve got to focus on Jane.”
I told her that both Patrick and Sam were willing to contribute money to the cause. Then I sucked in a deep breath, let it out, and said, “My mother will probably come through with some money.” My call waiting signal beeped, cutting Liv’s words into undecipherable syllables. I ignored the incoming call. “Say that again.”
“You called your mother? Finley, are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“She’s got it and—” The call waiting cut me off again. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Got it. We should—”
“I’d better take this,” I said apologetically. “It might be Patrick or Sam.”
“We’ll touch base soon,” Liv said. “Bye.”
I tapped the Flash button to switch calls and practically growled into the phone. “Yes? What?”
“I’m guessing by your tone that handcuffs don’t agree with you.”
Liam’s deep voice resonated through my entire body. “You saw the news?”
“Everyone saw the news. Nice robe, by the way.”
“Did you call to mock me or do you have a point?”
“I called to offer my services.”
That stunned me stupid but I recovered nicely. “That’s fabulous. Really. Jane didn’t do it.”
“I don’t really care whether she did or not.”
“Then why are you offering to help?”
“I’m a sucker for a challenge. But you already know that.”
It would help my composure if I wasn’t picturing him gloriously naked in my mind. He had that kind of voice that dripped with sensuality without the slightest effort on his part. While I didn’t want or need a distraction, a P.I. would be a great addition to the Free Jane Team.
“Finley? You there?”
“Yeah, I was just…” I stopped talking and started shuffling papers around on the countertop. He didn’t have to know the papers were takeout menus. “Thank you. Can you meet me at my office? I’ll fill you in on the details and then we can decide on the best plan of attack.” Something, please, God, more appropriate than my overwhelming desire to jump your bones. The image of his gloriously naked body was burned into my brain.
“Sure, whatever you need.”
Sex. Lots of sex. “This is really nice of you.”
“And it gets better.”
Naked. Naked. Naked. Stop it! “How?”
“Because Jane’s a friend of yours, I’m even willing to cut my fee in half.”
Prick. Prick. Prick.
Sex is good; spontaneous sex is even better.
Four
Sam met me at the coffee shop off Clematis Street a couple blocks from my office. Not only did I get a Café Vanilla, slushy Frappicino out of it, he also handed me five hundred dollars in a crisp white envelope. As a token of my gratitude, I bought him a Chai Tea. The gesture was definitely laced in irony since I’d just spent basically my entire savings on the two drinks. I consoled myself by focusing on Sam’s donation instead of berating my piss-poor ability to manage money.
We parted ways at the street corner with our usual European-style, both cheek kisses. While I wasn’t totally comfy with it, the European beat the hell out of the country club air kisses I’d grown up with.
Okay, confession time. Not wanting to risk being caught at the office on a weekend, I’d parked at City Place just in case anyone other than maybe the janitorial staff was at Dane-Lieberman. Tucking the power of attorney under my arm, I freed my hand in order to push the strap on my slightly irregular purse higher on my bare shoulder.
It was hot. Then again, it was July and the streets were crowded with people rushing to make the matinee performance at the Kravis Center. Who knew so many people would be