Knock 'Em Dead. Rhonda Pollero
of fabric. Her naturally curly hair, complete with ignored gray streaks, was secured with a black velvet barrette at the nape of her pale neck. Black was apparently part of her accessory scheme. The straps of her sports bra were black, as were the black Oasis sandals. I knew the shoes cost almost a hundred bucks; I just couldn’t understand why anyone would pay that kind of money for something so intentionally unflattering. Well, yes, I did. They were practical and functional. Just like Ellen.
“Sit,” Dane said as he strode around to his thronelike chair and took his seat.
I did as instructed and ignored my nerves begging me to ask for a fake bacon treat in recognition of my obedience. Dane didn’t care for, nor did he share, my sense of humor or my irreverence. He was kinda like my mother, only with testicles.
Running his palm over his artificially darkened hair, for a split second the sunlight glinted off his overly buff nails. The prisms of light arced across the ceiling, disappearing as soon as he laced his fingers and rested them on his desk.
My heart rate picked up again. I’d seen this posture before. He’d assumed the same position just before he’d suspended me, without pay, for a month.
“I’m sorry about this morning,” I said.
“I’m sure you are,” Dane agreed, his tone tinged with annoyance. “Which is why we’re having this meeting.”
I glanced over at mute Ellen. To my surprise, there was a touch of compassion in her green eyes. Thank God. Her feminism could have kicked in and maybe she’d be my ally. Now I was sorry I’d mentally berated her shoes.
“Ellen and I have discussed your situation at length and have made some decisions that directly concern you.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I insisted, hating that my words came out so wimpy and whiny. “My dear friend came to me for help and then the whole situation kind of snowballed out of control.”
“We know,” Ellen said. “I’ve spoken with Becky several times today.”
“But,” Dane injected quickly, “that doesn’t mean that we aren’t going to set some parameters.”
That sounded a lot like new rules for me. Ones I wasn’t going to like. “O-okay.”
Ellen crossed one unshaven leg over the other. “I made some calls at Becky’s request,” she began. “Jason Quinn is willing to meet with you at five at his Boca Raton office.”
I blinked. Jason Quinn was an über-lawyer. And his services came at an über-price. “Thank you. He’s very expensive.”
“Becky led me to believe that you and several other friends of the accused would be able to raise the necessary funds.” One of Ellen’s red brows arched questioningly. “Is there a problem?”
Accused? Hearing Jane slapped with that moniker riled my temper. I shook my head. “No. I’m on it.”
“You understand that you have to limit your involvement in this case, right?” Dane asked me.
“That might be hard. The police have already taken my statement.”
“I’m not talking about that. I’m simply reminding you that as an employee, you can’t use the resources of this firm for your own purposes.”
“I wasn’t planning on using anything,” I said over the angry lump in my throat. “I’ve been focused on raising bail and finding Jane an attorney.”
“Ellen has arranged for you to meet with one of the best criminal lawyers in South Florida. And just so we’re clear, that was a favor to Becky Jameson and it will be the end of your participation in any defense mounted by the accused.”
“Jane and I are friends,” I explained, trying not to clench my jaw. “I’m not going to turn my back on her when she’s eyeball deep in sh—trouble.”
“That’s not what we’re saying,” Ellen injected. “We’re simply telling you that in exchange for the introduction to Jason Quinn, we’ll need your word that you won’t go off half-cocked like you did the last time.”
“I solved the case.”
“Yes,” Dane acknowledged, though he looked as if he’d choked on the syllable. “But you also placed yourself in great danger and garnered a lot of press for this firm. Negative press. That isn’t how we do things around here, Finley. This firm exists entirely on reputation. I won’t have it impugned because you do crazy things like you did this morning.”
“I didn’t drag me off in handcuffs.” I could practically feel my blood boiling in my veins.
“The way I understand it, you wouldn’t have been handcuffed at all had you not shoved that deputy, then been mouthy and argumentative with the detectives,” Dane said. “So I will repeat. After the arraignment, the only person from this office authorized to involve herself in this case is Rebecca Jameson.”
“Because?”
“She’s a lawyer,” Dane answered, as if that explained all the great unknowns in the universe.
I got to my feet. “Are you telling me I can’t visit my friend? Support her through this?”
Ellen just sat there. Dane shook his head. “Becky said it was important for you to attend the arraignment tomorrow, so I’m giving you the day off.”
“Thank you.” I think.
“After that, I want your word that you will cooperate fully with the police and the attorneys. Other than that, I don’t want to see your name in the paper or your face on the news. Clear?”
“Crystal.” With my spine stiff, I pivoted on the ball of my Cindy Says sandals and started to leave.
“Finley?” Dane said.
“Yes?” I half turned to glance back in his direction.
“One misstep and I will fire you. No suspensions this time.”
And no compassion either. I took some of my frustration out on the elevator button, punching the Down arrow with my knuckle. It didn’t help and now my finger hurt.
I glanced down at my watch and frowned. It was a little after two and all I really wanted to do was hit the closest bar and get drunk. Not an option, since I had to call Liv, check on Jane, drive to Boca to meet the Jason Quinn, and then meet Patrick for dinner. Since getting drunk wasn’t feasible, I did the girlie thing and started to cry while I was still in the elevator. Not cry cry, more like sniff as my eyes welled with tears. Tears of anger, frustration, sleep deprivation, and an overwhelming sense of impotence.
I brushed the tears off my cheeks on my way back to my office. Margaret was gone and I knew from hearing the tail end of the conversation between Ellen and Dane as I was leaving that they were on their way out, but still, I didn’t want to walk the halls weeping like an unprofessional loser.
I had one foot in the door when I spotted Patrick placing a vase of white roses in the center of my desk. With my emotions still raw, I was definitely glad to see him. He turned and flashed me that perfect smile, and I rushed forward into the haven of his embrace. It felt good to be held.
Patrick brushed the hair off my forehead, then tenderly cupped my face in his hands. Our eyes met before he lowered his mouth to mine.
The kiss was soft and gentle. But I didn’t want soft and gentle. My day had seriously sucked and I’d earned a few minutes of wild lust.
After practically jerking Patrick around, I hopped up on my desk and pulled him into the cradle of my thighs. I expected him to get hard immediately; after all, it had been weeks since we’d last been together. When it didn’t happen immediately, I locked my arms around his neck and thrust my tongue hungrily into his mouth.
My skin warmed. Patrick didn’t. His fingers gripped my forearms but he neither