Beauty Vs. The Beast. M.J. Rodgers
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held out his hand. “All right, Kay. You’re hired. And you have my word as a man of honor that I will not fire you for anything other than incompetency.”
She closed the small remaining distance between them and took his hand, giving it a good, solid shake, just as she had when they first introduced themselves. A small, triumphant smile lifted the sides of her lips.
“You won’t regret it.”
On the contrary, Damian was beginning to regret it already. The warmth of her hand was something he could feel right through to his solar plexus. She might be able to disavow the attraction between them, but he couldn’t. Her light scent was as addictive as sweet, warm sunshine. She was bright; she was beautiful; she was out of bounds.
A hell of a dangerous combination. Damn. He could see it now. His mistake had been in trying to walk away from her earlier. He should have run.
* * *
“SO, Kay,” Adam Justice began in the Wednesday morning partners’ meeting, “I see your case of Nye vs. Steele has already made the local news.”
Kay quickly swallowed her sip of licorice-spice herbal tea and set her mug on the oval conference table around which sat the four partners of Justice Inc.—herself, Adam Justice, Marc Truesdale and Octavia Osborne.
Kay swung her body to the right to look into Adam’s stone face, as cool and mysterious as his pale eyes and the scar that jagged from his jaw to disappear below his impeccable, starched-white dress shirt.
“Mrs. Nye’s tearful interview about the loss of her husband, Roy, was just an overt play for sympathy. The press is obviously giving her airtime only because of the unusual dual-personality feature of her case.”
“The news commentator mentioned that Dr. Steele couldn’t be reached for comment,” Adam said. “Did you advise him to avoid the press?”
“Yes. Pretrial motions are Friday morning. I believe I’ll be able to get the case dismissed entirely, in which case Dr. Steele doesn’t need to have his face flashed on the screen with that kind of negative publicity.”
Adam made a note on his case list, his full head of straight, jet-black hair nodding in silent, sober approval. Adam Justice’s reputation as a hard-driving, brilliant attorney was legendary throughout Seattle’s legal system.
And his sister, Ariana Justice—better known as AJ—ran a detective firm touted as one of the best in the state.
Yet even after five years of working with the two of them, Kay had learned very little about the human side of either Adam or AJ. Both brother and sister assiduously deflected any and every personal probe.
“What’s your angle on dismissal?” Marc Truesdale asked as he grabbed for his second bran muffin from the lazy Susan at the center of the conference table.
Marc was the opposite of Adam, open and easy to get to know. He’d joined the firm just two years before, yet Kay knew far more about him than she suspected she’d ever know about Adam. Marc was overwhelmingly good-looking, oozed charm and was only a few months older than Kay. And despite his reputation for romancing the ladies, Marc always treated her with the strict deference and respect of one colleague for another.
“My argument will be that since no corporal death has in fact occurred, there is no legal basis for a wrongful-death suit.”
Marc nodded. “Good logical approach. Think it will work?”
Kay smiled at his question. “I have an ace up my sleeve if it doesn’t.”
He smiled back. “You always do.”
“I had better have on this one. Getting up to speed for a trial by Monday isn’t exactly the way I want to spend my weekend.”
Octavia Osborne exploded into that rich, throaty, uninhibited laugh that danced around the room and brought out the worst of Kay’s envy. At five foot eleven, Octavia was a statuesque redhead whose perfect grooming and gorgeous clothes always exuded the kind of natural flamboyance and woman-of-the-world sophistication that Kay knew she could never emulate. Octavia leaned toward her, a knowing twinkle in her sagacious eyes.
“Come on, Kay. That’s just the way you’d like to spend your weekend. Talk about a lady with all work and no play in her life. You turn in almost as many billable hours each month as Adam here, and we all know he eats and sleeps in his office.”
Kay shrugged. She didn’t take Octavia’s observation as a reprimand. On the contrary. She was proud of who she was.
“Okay, I confess. I’m the product of a long line of workaholics. It’s in the genes. We Kelloggs enter the world with an inherent proclivity to pounce right from the womb into the work force. We can’t help but get excited about our jobs.”
Beautifully arched eyebrows rose above Octavia’s eyes. She plucked a couple of grapes from the lazy Susan with long, graceful fingers. She reminded Kay of one of those regal and ravishing ladies who graced ancient Grecian urns.
“But even those workaholic parents of yours found time to...ah...get excited about other things, otherwise you wouldn’t be here,” Octavia’s smiling mouth said. “Now, as a fellow partner in this firm, I sincerely appreciate all that hard work of yours that contributes to my paycheck. But as a fellow woman, I’m letting you in on a little secret. Taking time out for some fun can be rewarding, too.”
Kay looked away from Octavia’s directed glance and fiddled with her file of papers as Damian Steele’s ruggedly handsome face unexpectedly and unexplainably materialized in her mind.
Octavia leaned closer, a sweep of an ultralight, ultrasophisticated fragrance advancing before her. “You could always start by asking the sinfully sexy Dr. Steele to show you his couch.”
Kay felt the uncomfortable jolt of Octavia’s words, so close to her unbidden mental image. Her back straightened as she scrambled to collect her scattered thoughts. “He’s a client. You know I would never—”
“Never say never, Kay,” Octavia interrupted, holding up an admonishing finger, while at the same time letting the twinkle in her eyes and smile soften her reprimand as she popped the grapes into her mouth.
Kay’s shoulders relaxed. Her partner was just being her playful, kidding self. Why was she taking Octavia’s jab about Damian Steele so seriously? It wasn’t like Kay to be so touchy. No, it wasn’t like her at all.
Octavia relaxed back in her chair as a small frown interrupted the smooth surface of her forehead. “I wish I could remember where I heard his name before, though. I’ve never met him or I’m sure I would have recognized his face when you introduced him around. But his name is definitely familiar. It’s maddening not being able to recall.”
“So you’ve been telling us since Monday,” Marc said. “Could it be that after catching a glimpse of this Dr. Steele, you’re the one who’s interested in checking out him and his couch?”
Octavia stretched back in her conference chair. Beneath her long lashes, her eyes glowed in a combination of confidence and amusement.
“Me? Interested in a man whose life is devoted to hearing women confess their deepest secrets? Not on your life, Marc. I want a man who is far more fascinated with the woman who reveals nothing.”
“Who’s opposing counsel?” Adam asked.
The senior partner’s question brought Kay’s focus back to the case at hand, as he no doubt had intended it should. She turned in his direction.
“Name’s Rodney Croghan. Drew a blank with me. Ring a bell for anyone?”
Adam and Octavia both shook their heads.
Marc nearly choked on his last bite of bran muffin. He reached for his cup of coffee to quickly wash it down. “Rodney Croghan? You’re sure it’s Rodney Croghan?”
“You know him, Marc?” Kay asked, not too surprised that a name that