Corrupting Cinderella (11 page)

“No, God, no. Not when she has two relatives who want her. She
is
a good kid. With the way things are at home, she could easily be out skipping school and doing God only knows what, but she never misses a day and her grades are pretty solid given the turmoil in her life.”

I like this attorney. She’s clearly done her homework, and she seems to care about Heidi. Considering the pool of lazy attorneys out there that could have been assigned to Heidi, it seems she won the lawyer jackpot. I still want to know what her reservations about my client are, though.

“How can I convince you to give my guy a solid recommendation?”

She snorts into the phone. “You know I have to argue in favor of the brother, since that’s what she wants. Doesn’t matter what I think. But I’d feel better about it if he had a home of his own and a stable job.”

Good point. She really has been thorough. This is something Teller and I have talked about. Repeatedly. He lives at the clubhouse full time. It’s about an hour away from Heidi’s school and most certainly not the appropriate environment for her. He promised me he was looking into finding an apartment nearby. I also know Rock has been working to get him on the books at one of the Lost Kings legitimate, non-stripper businesses.

“Look, attorney-to-attorney, he
is
employed full-time, it’s just under the table. He’s working on getting that straightened out. He’s also looking for an apartment near Heidi’s school for the two of them. He wants to keep her close to her friends, school, and their grandmother.”

“Good. Okay. I feel a lot better about the situation then.”

The sound of the front door opening spooks me out of the conversation. Dammit. I forgot to lock the door after Adam left. The basement office has always felt very isolated to me, even though there is a psychiatrist’s office right upstairs. When I’m here alone, I almost always keep the front door locked.

It’s weird that whoever entered hasn’t said anything yet.

I’m so focused on what’s going in the waiting area that I miss the last thing Charlotte said.

“Hope? Are you there?”

“Sorry, Charlotte, what was that?”

“I just said we have a pre-trial coming up, I’m hoping we can work things out with Tom, and the grandmother isn’t going to dig her heels in. I’m not in the mood for a trial.”

That startles a laugh out of me. “Yeah, neither am I. Tom’s private pay though, so he might want to ride it all the way through.”

She makes a sound between a snort and a chuckle. A snortle. “Yeah.”

I hear someone still walking around in the outer office. “Hey, Charlotte, I need to go, but we’ll talk soon, okay?”

“Sure.”

We say our goodbyes, and I disconnect. Clutching my cell phone in my hand, I make my way out to the waiting area. There’s a tall, skinny, shifty-eyed stranger shuffling around. He keeps staring into Adam’s darkened office as if my friend might magically appear.

“Can I help you?”

He jumps about three feet in the air before aiming what I can only describe as crazy eyes on me. “Where’s Mr. Braydon?”

“He’s out. Can I help you?”

“Yeah, he’s in charge of my mother’s estate, and I need to speak to him.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Well, no. But I need to talk to him.”

This guy has shoved my stranger-danger radar into red alert. Especially since I’m trapped down here with him by myself.

“Let me check his calendar.”

He follows me into Adam’s office, which makes me even more nervous. Dammit. Why hadn’t I asked Rock to come back to the office with me? He’d scare this guy away in two seconds flat. Calling up Adam’s calendar takes a few seconds. While I wait, I take a few breaths to calm myself. I have to remind myself to be polite to Adam’s client, when I really want to tell him to get the fuck out and come back later.

“What’s your name? I’ll text Adam and see when he’s coming back.”

“David Greybell.”

I tap out a quick text to Adam, not really expecting a reply since I know he’s in court. But at least if I go missing, the police will have an idea of who to question first.

I’m seriously pissed at myself for being so scared. Irrationally, I blame Rock. He got me so flustered after my missed appointment this morning—insinuating that something bad could have happened to me—that I’m seeing threats everywhere.

Finally I get into Adam’s calendar and discover he’s in Surrogate’s Court. Great. He could be there for twenty minutes or two hours—there’s no way to tell.

“He hasn’t written back yet, so he’s probably in court. It looks like he has some time available tomorrow morning. Do you want me to schedule you in?”

“Yes, please.”

The reason I suggested that time is because
I
won’t be here. Let Adam deal with his creepy client by himself.

I tap in some information and log off. “Okay, I’ll let him know. Thanks.”

“Are you an attorney? Maybe you can help me instead?”

“No, that’s not my area, and my boyfriend is picking me up any minute.”

He looks dejected, and I squelch the impulse to feel bad about brushing him off.

After Mr. Greybell leaves, I lock the door. My hands are shaking. I stare at my cell phone and contemplate calling Rock. After turning it over in my head, I dismiss the idea. He’ll just use it as an excuse to be even more hyper-protective. The last thing I need is for him to start sending one of his prospects to work with me.

Hearing the back door slam makes me almost jump out of my skin, even though logically I know it has to be Adam. I stalk down the hall to greet him.

“You just missed your oddball client.”

He stops and throws a sarcastic glance at me. “Greybell?”

“Yup.”

He waves a hand in the air. “He’s a little off, but he’s harmless.”

“Yeah, well, he made me nervous. I’m so pissed I forgot to lock the front door.”

“You can’t keep that door locked during business hours. What if a client stops by?”

We’ve had this discussion before, and I kind of want to clock Adam for being so damn dense. “Uh, when I’m alone down here by myself, I damn well will keep the door locked. Clients will just have to ring the doorbell.”

He rolls his eyes at me as if to say “you’re such a girl.”

“Geez, Hope, there’s an office right upstairs.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I give him a hard stare. “I don’t care. You’re a guy. You don’t get it.”

His face softens. “You’re right. Better to be safe than sorry.”

My agitation disappears, and we turn to discussing our current cases. Since I only have the one, my end of the conversation is short. I am able to offer him some advice on a few of his cases, which helps me feel a little less useless.

When we’re done with the work talk, Adam’s face transforms into a mischievous grin. “Did that big, scary man of yours find you before? He came here all wound up earlier.”

“Yeah, he did.”

“He’s something, Hope. You sure know how to pick ‘em.”

I know Adam means this as a compliment, and my lips quirk into a smile.

“How about you? When do I get to meet this mystery man you’ve been seeing?”

He gives me a secret smile. “Soon. I’m thinking of asking him to go to that party of Judge Oak’s.”

“So, I have to wait until then to meet him? Is he a lawyer?”

Another sly grin. “Sort of.”

“What the hell does that mean? Is he out?”

A flash of annoyance crosses his face. “Yes, Hope. Unlike some people we know, I don’t deal with guys hiding in the closet.”

He’s referring to Ross, and I’m thankful I never suggested that because they’re both gay lawyers they’d make a perfect couple. Lilly once made that mistake, and Adam still hasn’t forgiven her for it.

“Don’t start.”

He nods. “Are you going to invite your big, scary biker?”

I snort. Then full-out belly laugh. Rock at a political fundraiser? As if that would ever happen. “Uh, no. I don’t think he would set foot inside an event like that.” In fact, I know he won’t—because he told me so—which is why I don’t even plan to mention it. What’s the point?

“You have to go, Hope. Mara will kill you if you don’t.”

“Yeah, I am capable of going to things alone, you know.”

“I remember.” He’s referring to Clay.

He didn’t do lawyer functions either.

I sure know how to pick them.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Thanks so much for picking me up, guys,” Sophie says in a breathless rush as she slides into the backseat of Rock’s SUV.

“No problem, babe,” Rock answers while reversing out of the driveway. “Thanks for inviting us.”

“I’m so happy to have the extra company. I love seeing Jonny’s shows, but I always feel weird standing around backstage by myself.” Sophie squeezes my shoulder. “It’s good to have my partner in crime back.”

I chuckle at that. Sophie and I had a lot of fun times in law school. Since I was with Clay, Lilly was her partner in picking up rocker guys, but I appreciate the sentiment.

Sophie lets out this frustrated growling noise. “I hate all the fucking groupies who hang out, trying to grope Jonny when he gets off stage. You can help me kick some skank groupie ass.”

Rock chuckles a little uncomfortably.

With a smirk, I turn and face Sophie. “No problem. I’ve got tons of experience now from dealing with Rock’s own personal muffler bunny fan club.”

Rock makes a choking sound, and Sophie falls back against the seat in a fit of giggles. “Buttercup, you gotta let me up there one of these days. I’ll be happy to take care of those bitches for you.” She flashes a glance at Rock.

“You girls done?” he asks with a bemused smile.

Sophie and I burst into another round of giggles while Rock shakes his head.

We’re still laughing and carrying on by the time we get to the club. It holds about three thousand people and appears to be sold out tonight. The line down the sidewalk to get in seems miles long. We are able to go right to the front window, give our names, and go right in. The bouncer directs us to the back. We walk through the brightly lit but mostly empty club. Sophie is bouncing up and down with excitement. It’s been a few weeks since she and Jonny saw each other, and I fully expect them to disappear into some dark corner when we find him.

Rock and Jonny greet each other like they’re long lost brothers, and I really need to find out what the story is there. Jonny isn’t talking much because he’s preserving his voice for the demanding style of screaming vocals he uses on stage. Sophie brought him a particular type of cough drop, and he thanks her by kissing her long and deep in front of everyone.

Like a king holding court, Rock is busy chatting with the other band members. I’m always amazed at how comfortable he is in any situation. Maybe even a little jealous.

After Jonny and Sophie finish their game of tonsil hockey, she rushes over to me.

“Sorry.”

I’m busy watching Rock and Jonny. Rock pulls a package out of his cut and hands it to Jonny, who lights up in a big grin.

“What are they up to?” I ask Sophie.

“No idea. Lots of people bring them shit for the free tix, you know?”

Hmmm.

We mostly stay in the back room during the first couple bands. Rock pulls me into his lap as the rest of the band lights up what Rock explains to me is a vaporizer. Jonny passes but asks them to save it for later. I arch a brow at Sophie, and she shrugs. She also passes on the weed, but I get the sense she’s only doing it so I won’t feel weird.

When Rock also passes, one of the guys jokes with him about not sampling his own product. I go absolutely rigid in Rock’s lap, and his arms tighten around me.

“I’m good, man,” he gets out through clenched teeth.

Lilly joins us, distracting me from the question on the tip of my tongue. She sweeps me into a big hug. The guys in the band are excited to see her, so I assume she’s spent a lot of time hanging out with Sophie and Jonny. Rock chuckles when Z walks in the room next. Lilly is sitting on the drummer’s lap, and he’s dangerously close to motorboating her in front of the entire room. Z takes in the scene and sits down on the arm of the couch next to Rock and me without a word.

“Hey, Z,” I greet.

“‘Sup, Hope?”

Jonny and Z greet each other with some sort of bro-hug, and I wonder when these two had a chance to meet. Lilly looks up, finally noticing Z, and scrambles out of the drummer’s lap. She whispers something in Sophie’s ear that makes Sophie tug me out of Rock’s lap. The three of us head out into the club and into the ladies’ room.

“Wasn’t there a bathroom back there?” I ask because we’re stuck waiting in a line.

“Trust me, it’s more disgusting than this one,” Sophie informs us with a shiver.

“Why is Z here?” Lilly asks me.

“I don’t know—”