In Search Of A Hero. Cheryl Wolverton
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stood. “Thanks for bringing this to our attention,” he said.
André stood, as well, and headed for the door. “Guess this just might prove you aren’t always right, Dad,” he said.
Drydan flushed.
André continued before his father could comment. “I’ll find all the information I can and get started tomorrow.”
Rebekkah, who had been relatively quiet until now, called, “You will need to check with me about my schedule. I’m in court tomorrow. Perhaps the next day.”
André paused and turned. His eyebrow went up. Surprised, he worked to curb a smile. Though it had been a while since he dated, he knew a rebuke from a woman when he heard one. He should apologize for his presumptuous attitude. She was probably miffed about the shot he’d taken at his father. But instead he baited her. “I can work on it tomorrow while you’re in court.”
“Nonsense,” Drydan said. “If she’s the liaison I want her there with you working.”
Patience, André admonished himself. “Until then,” he said and started toward the door.
“I’ll let you know what time,” Rebekkah called.
Again, André paused, almost at the door. Turning, he met her smug gaze and smiled slowly. “Over dinner, because I’ll be busy all day Tuesday.”
When her smile collapsed and burgeoning surprise showed, he decided he’d scored his point. With a wave, he walked out the door and headed down the hall.
Rebekkah was forceful by nature, but she was going to learn when it came to being a lawyer she was way out of her league with him. He had a job to do and he’d do it.
Chapter Four
Brighton’s was the perfect restaurant for a meeting. Quiet, dark, a place where they could talk and it wouldn’t get out of hand.
Rebekkah liked that.
A lot.
It had taken five calls, four messages and two secretarial meetings before the two worked out their schedules. She could be as stubborn as he could about who would be in charge of this meeting.
Rebekkah felt she’d won. She swung her stocking-clad legs out of her car. Once standing, she shut the door behind her, wondering if André had arrived yet.
He’d wanted to meet at a local café. She’d nixed that idea, wanting to meet at the office over Chinese food—to which he’d said no.
Tan heels clicked across the dark asphalt as she headed toward the front door.
Of course, she’d known he wouldn’t agree to the office. But at a place like this, she was certain he wouldn’t pull any surprises—just what she’d hoped for.
Preparing for their first conversation since the one in Drydan’s office, she had donned her tan linen suit that had darker brown threads woven through it, had pulled back her hair and brought her notebook with briefs on the case. She wanted Andréto know she was there strictly for business.
Why she let him bother her, she wasn’t sure. But every time they were around each other her hackles went up.
As she approached the front of the building, she found her nemesis waiting.
He was dressed to kill, she thought despairingly. Wearing dark brown trousers with a lighter sports jacket, he looked all male.
Rebekkah winced as she realized what the problem was. She was attracted to this man.
She thought him too handsome for his own good.
Great. Physical attraction, she thought, disgusted. At least that was as far as it went. Of course, she didn’t know him well enough for anything else, her mind reminded her—yet.
And that was the way it would stay.
“Good evening, Rebekkah. Shall we?” He motioned toward the door.
This was one thing she could do—court cases. Pulling her mind to that, she nodded. “I’m ready.”
As she passed him, he murmured, “I’m sure you are.”
Turning as they entered, she asked, “What do you mean by that?”
Eyebrows inching up, he said, “You’re the type to do your homework.”
Forcing herself to relax, she nodded.
The maître d’ seated them, and the waitress took their orders. All was quiet before she spoke again.
“I trust you’ve had a good week?”
André smiled. “Never better. I really am beginning to enjoy my business in the inner city.”
“Most people spend their life trying to escape there,” Rebekkah said coolly. “I find it hard to believe you’re enjoying work that pays next to nothing and small-time cases.”
André tilted his head. “Is that how you see it, Rebekkah? That the little people aren’t worth the work? I’m surprised.”
Rebekkah had the grace to blush. “I—” She cleared her throat and continued, “I apologize, André. We once again have gotten off on the wrong foot. Actually, I’ve seen few lawyers who like working in the inner city. Most prefer a challenge that a bigger company represents—as well as the job security. I simply meant it’s hard to believe after working with your father you’d find pleasure living from hand to mouth like that.”
André continued to smile, his hands steepled in front of him as he studied her. “Do you peg all people like this before you get to know them or just me?”
Realizing she had no control over this conversation and wasn’t going to gain control, she shook her head. “Again, I apologize.”
André shook his head slightly. The candlelight brought out the golden tones in his hair and caused his eyes to twinkle with what looked like merriment. “Relax, Rebekkah. You came in here tonight prepared to do battle. I’m not sure why, but let’s call a truce while we’re together. Okay?”
Rebekkah hesitated. “I suppose I’m worried you’re going to hurt your father again.”
André’s smile became strained. “I promise you, Rebekkah, I have no intention of hurting my father. I simply want him to admit he was wrong in breaking up my engagement. But, since we have to work together, I suggest we avoid that subject as much as possible. After all, if I’d wanted to hurt my father, I could have found a much easier way than coming to him with what I’d learned.”
Rebekkah sighed and admitted he was right. Waving a hand, she nodded. “I’ve heard a lot about you, actually,” she confessed.
“My father, I presume, has already flayed me alive?”
Rebekkah shook her head. “Actually, no, André. He’s proud of what you’ve accomplished. But since we are avoiding that subject,” she said softly, “what I meant was in court. I’ve heard you’re competent and usually get what you set out to do.”
André nodded. “I prefer civil cases, though I did assist my father in other areas as needed. I’ve backed off a lot of what I did when I first passed the bars.”
“What you were doing when you were involved in the Kittering case?” Rebekkah asked.
André nodded. “I used to be a trial lawyer,” he admitted.
“I’ve researched the case and come up with a brief outline.”
“It was a simple enough case,” André said, nodding his thanks as the waitress brought their tea and salads. He showed no discomfiture that she had researched a case he’d worked on or that she wanted to get right down to business. “A big company accused of not sticking to the EPA standards and poisoning the land around them. We proved the company was indeed within the bounds of the law.”
“You