The Law of Attraction (7 page)

Alisha wondered if the witness had been paid for her silence. “Was Mrs. Kenneally brought up on charges?”

“They had an investigation and nothing came of it. Now she's walking free while my only boy's going to spend his life in a wheelchair. What's left of his life, anyway.”

“If you decide to go through with this lawsuit, it could take years to settle.”

Sheila lifted her chin. “I want to go through with it and not because of the money. If she doesn't go to jail, then at least we'll get our day in court.” Her gaze faltered. “But my husband and me, we don't have any money to speak of. We're just simple, hardworking people. And Barry's insurance coverage isn't going to last much longer.”

These were the kind of people Alisha felt compelled to help, not the Kenneallys of the world who bought their own brand of justice. “I tell you what, Mrs. White. I'll conduct some research and if I decide to take this on, I'll do so on contingency.”

“What does that mean?”

“You won't pay any money up-front. If we win, then I'll take a percentage. If I lose, you won't be out anything.”

Sheila's eyes went wide. “You'd do that for me?”

“Yes, but that's standard in this kind of situation.” Alisha
stood and extended her hand. “I'll call you in the next couple of days after I review all the facts and determine if we have a good case.”

Sheila rose and took Alisha's hand, shaking it vigorously. “Thank you, Miss Hart. I appreciate anything you can do for me and my son.”

“Not a problem. I'll see you out.”

After escorting Sheila to the door, she turned back to find Joe kicked back in the chair, feet propped on the desk, hands laced behind his neck. “Do you want to ride with me and Julie?”

She strode to the desk and lifted his feet up, placing them on the floor. “Ride where?”

“The reception for the new family-advocacy center. Or did you forget that, too?”

Yes, she had. And she wanted to forget about it now. “I think I'm going to bow out. I've got the hearing tomorrow morning and I need to prepare.”

“You're as prepared as you'll ever be. And you need to get out and have some fun.”

“I don't consider sucking up to the entire population of San Antonio's legal eagles fun. I can do that any day of the week.”

“Yeah, but not with little finger sandwiches and free booze. Besides, Julie's worked hard to help this place get off the ground. She'll be disappointed if you're not there.”

He had a point, and Alisha had an obligation to be there if only for that reason. “What time?”

“We'll pick you up around seven.”

“I'll drive myself.”

“It's not a problem, Alisha. That way, if you and I want to get tanked, Julie's volunteered to drive. She can't drink.”

“Why not? She certainly isn't going to be the only one.”

Joe grinned. “Because she's pregnant. That's why she didn't have anything on New Year's Eve.”

Alisha was caught somewhere between elation and envy. She hated that envy and hated herself for feeling it. “That's
wonderful, Joe.” She rounded the desk and gave him a quick hug. “You're still going to finish law school, aren't you?”

“You bet. I'm in the home stretch and I can't quit now.”

If only she had more to offer him financially. After all, he basically ran the office, serving as a clerk, paralegal and part-time receptionist all at the same time. “If you're willing to stick with me after you go back to school in a couple of weeks, I'll work around your schedule and see what I can do about a raise.”

Joe held up his hand. “Don't worry about it. You're going to have to bring in that temp, and that costs money. Julie and I will manage. She'll get paid pregnancy leave and we've saved some, plus her parents are willing to help out. They have the money and the means.”

Alisha thought a minute. “Well, if Mrs. White's case pans out, it could mean quite a bit of money.”

“Are you going to take it?”

“Yes, I think I am.” For that and other reasons aside from the possibility of a large settlement. “Of course, we both know that could take awhile. In the meantime, I'm going to rely on you to help me with the particulars.”

“Not a problem.” Joe came to his feet. “I'm going to head home, unless you need anything else.”

“No. You go ahead. I'm about to leave, too. I have to make myself beautiful for tonight.”

Joe laughed. “That shouldn't take too long.”

“You are so amusing, Alvarado.”

“And you don't even realize how attractive you are. But you can bet Daniel Fortune does.”

 

Daniel had never seen Alisha Hart look quite this beautiful, although the way she'd looked on New Year's Eve ran a close second. Normally she dressed in corporate conservative, a look befitting her position. But tonight…well, she wore a formfitting little black stretchy dress that hugged her tightly,
long-sleeved but cut low at the neck and back. And those spiked heels… Man, he could imagine her wearing only those and nothing else. He better quit imagining it or he'd end up spending all evening hiding behind one of the buffet tables.

For the past hour they'd been doing the avoidance dance, maintaining their distance while exchanging glances every now and then. Just watching her move through the crowd had him considering things he had no business considering—namely getting her alone and in his bed.

“Good to see you tonight, Counselor.”

Daniel turned his attention from Alisha to the owner of the booming voice, Van McAllister, former state Supreme Court justice and champion of many worthy causes. He'd been instrumental in seeing the center they honored tonight come to be.

Taking Van's outstretched hand, Daniel gave it a hearty shake. “Good to see you, too, Van. You did a great job on this place.”

Van scoffed. “I just helped with the fund-raising and did a little conceptual planning. The committee did the rest. And I think they did a fine job.”

Daniel took a moment to survey the area. “It's a good design.”

“A remarkable design.” Van pointed to the upper floor. “We have transitional housing up there.” He pointed behind him. “And offices at ground level. Every kind of assistance you can imagine, including counselors and legal help. Just say the word, one of those offices could be yours.”

Daniel frowned. “Mine?”

“Yeah. I could use a good legal director. It would only be part-time in the beginning, but it could lead to bigger and better things. Of course, I know you have your sights set on the D.A. position, once Allan gives it up.”

Yeah, Daniel did, but that wasn't a guarantee he would be the party's choice, especially if he happened to lose the Massey case. And with his current workload, not to mention
Alisha Hart as opposing counsel, that just might happen. Nah. He'd win, no matter what it took. “I'll keep that in mind.”

Van slapped him hard on the back. “Good deal. I can't keep the position open forever, but it's going to take a few months to get this thing going, so you have some time to decide.”

“I'll do that.” Daniel really didn't have any intention of doing any such thing. Heading up a legal team for a nonprofit organization, albeit a worthwhile one, didn't seem like something he'd try. At least not at the moment.

Right now he really wanted to find Alisha. He couldn't risk seeming too friendly with her, but he could catch her long enough to have a casual conversation—and maybe invite her back to his place.

He needed to get that thought out of his head immediately. Unfortunately he hadn't been able to force her out of his mind. But if he wanted to do the prosecution of Massey justice, as well as focus on the Jamison case, he had to stop thinking about her. Too much to do, too little time—and a whole lot of distraction, he realized when he finally caught sight of her again.

She stood near the double French doors leading outside, a glass of wine clutched in one hand and a sour look on her face as she spoke to some guy who seemed to be standing way too close to her. Her body language alone said she didn't want him near her, yet he kept inching closer.

Daniel saw an opportunity to intervene, although that was pretty damn dangerous when he realized the man's identity. Troy Moreau, a high-dollar attorney and high-handed jackass, the same man rumored to have once been involved with Alisha. The guy had given the prosecutors in his office more than their fair share of trouble on more than one occasion of late.

Daniel weighed his options carefully. If he approached Alisha, Moreau might take the hint and leave. Or he could stand his ground and stick around anyway. Daniel couldn't
bodily force the bastard to leave her alone, although the thought was tempting, considering Moreau now had his hand resting casually on the small of Alisha's back. The gesture was too possessive, too intimate. If Alisha had given any indication she welcomed the attention, he'd stay right where he stood. But she hadn't, and Daniel could no longer stand by and let her endure the advances one more minute.

Just as he started forward, Alisha yanked Moreau's hand away and spewed something Daniel couldn't understand, but he knew she wasn't telling Moreau to enjoy his evening. Worse, she looked visibly shaken as she stormed out the doors, leaving Moreau sporting a self-satisfied smile.

Why he felt the need to rescue her, Daniel couldn't say. Chances were, she didn't need rescuing. But he could at least make sure she was okay.

“A
re you okay?”

Alisha recognized his voice all too well and suspected she knew why Daniel Fortune had arrived unexpectedly. Obviously her little scene with Troy had drawn unwanted attention, at least from the prosecutor now standing a few feet from her, arms draped over the veranda's railing. Even his profile was striking. Striking a chord of longing in Alisha.

She stared out at the sloping grounds to the intricate play yard positioned at the end of the hill. “Nice night, isn't it? Not even cool enough for a jacket. I was just trying to remember how long it's been since I've been on a swing.”

“You still haven't answered my question,” he said.

“I don't understand your question.” A lie. She understood it completely.

“I saw Moreau harassing you and I wanted to make sure you're all right.”

And to think she'd been so careful to keep her voice low
ered when she'd made that verbal jab at Troy's anatomy. She turned and propped an elbow on the railing to find Daniel still staring off into space. “I promise you, Counselor, I'm fine. Troy seems to think that if he gives the word, any woman will gladly join him in bed and thank him for it later.”

“But not you.”

“Not me.” Not anymore.

Daniel finally looked at her, his handsome face washed in the glow of a lone tiki torch set out in the corner of the veranda. “Are you sure that's all it was, a proposition?”

A proposition that entailed taking up where they'd left off, something Alisha didn't care to share—or to even consider, for that matter. “Look, Moreau's a shark, and although it took me awhile to realize that, I washed my hands of him the minute I walked out of my former firm.”

“If you say so.”

“I say so.” Alisha once more surveyed the playground to keep from staring at Daniel. Confronting Troy again served to remind her why she needed to avoid any further involvement with the prosecutor. Fellow attorneys made dicey bed-fellows, no matter what side of the law you happened to land on. “Isn't your public awaiting you inside?”

“I've already made my rounds.”

“So have I. I better get back inside and find Joe and Julie. If I'm lucky, they'll be ready to leave soon.”

“They've already left.”

Alisha's gaze snapped back to Daniel. “How do you know?”

Daniel turned and leaned a hip against the rail. “Because he stopped me and told me that if I saw you, I'm to tell you that his wife ate something that didn't agree with her and he needed to take her home. He sends his apologies and hopes you don't have any trouble finding a ride.”

Oh, lovely. “Guess it's time to call a cab.”

“I'll give you a ride.”

She just bet he could. “That's not necessary.”

“I know, but I want to do it.”

“And how do you propose we manage that, Mr. Fortune? Just waltz out of here together and in doing so start the rumor mill spinning out of control?”

He hinted at a grin. “I think waltzing through the crowd without the benefit of music might be fairly obvious. We don't have to leave together. I'll get my car from the valet and I'll park at the end of the lot. You can pretend to be going to your own car and I'll pick you up.”

Apparently he'd planned the whole thing in great detail. “And if someone sees me getting into your car?”

“It's dark outside. And even if someone did see us, I could always say you were having car trouble.”

She'd be borrowing trouble if she agreed to this and putting more than her reputation at risk if she couldn't resist him. “I'm still not sure this is a good plan.”

“Sure it is. I take you home, we say good night and you go inside alone. Nothing more than that.”

He sounded sincere, but could she really trust him? Better still, could she trust herself? Of course, she could avoid cab fare. She could hop out of the car before he even had a chance to park. “Okay, you're on.”

He pushed off the railing and smiled. “I'll go back inside first. Give me about ten minutes to get my car and I'll meet you at the end of the drive.”

“Exactly what kind of car am I looking for?”

“A black sports coupe,” he said as he headed for the entry.

“That's rather vague.”

With one hand on the doorknob he said, “The license plate is personalized. You can't miss it.”

“What does it say?”

“WIN AGAIN.”

That figured. Daniel Fortune was all about winning, and Alisha would do well to remember that. He might be cordial
outside the courtroom, but come time for Les Massey's trial, she had no doubt he'd morph into a barracuda.

Yet as he slipped back inside the building with a confident saunter, Alisha couldn't help but remember the way he'd touched her the other night with unexpected gentleness and how he had seemed sincerely interested in her life. How he'd put her at ease in a very short time and brought her to a sensual plane she hadn't visited much until him. If at all.

That was before things had changed. Before they knew they would be facing off in a professional venue. Before their careers had intruded. Like it or not, Daniel Fortune would have to remain off-limits, and Alisha truly didn't like it one bit.

 

Pulled next to the curb near the last row of parked cars, Daniel watched Alisha stride toward him, fishing through her purse as if searching for keys. She had the role-playing down pat, and he had the strongest urge to find out what other kind of roles she'd be willing to play in his bed.

He rubbed a hand over his face to erase that image, yet he wasn't too successful. He shouldn't have offered to take her home. Correction:
drive
her home. He needed to avoid her, but for some reason he couldn't stay away from her, and that was irrational. He didn't do foolish, and hadn't since he'd shaved his entire body for a swim meet back in college. When it had grown back, it had itched like hell. Now he had a new kind of itch for an attractive defender and he didn't dare try to scratch it. At least not tonight. But after the trial was over he planned to take up where they'd left off. Unless she didn't agree to that plan. He had more than a few ways to encourage her and he would use each and every one if necessary.

Alisha looked to her left, then to her right, before yanking open the car door and practically hurling herself inside.

“Let's go,” she said, her voice winded.

“Seat belt first.”

She sent him a classic go-to-hell look. “Okay, but you drive while I'm putting it on.”

Daniel turned his attention from her to the ignition only to see someone coming toward them. And that someone wasn't anyone he needed to see at the moment, especially with opposing counsel squirreled away in his vehicle. “Get down.”

“Why?”

“Because my boss is heading this way.”

Instead of crouching in the seat, Alisha draped herself across the narrow console and, of all things, dropped facedown on his lap. He couldn't think of anything more damaging to his dignity, because in about two seconds tops he would give the stick shift some competition.

Daniel turned the ignition, jammed the car into first and sped past Allan without even bothering to wave. He turned up the drive leading to the exit while Alisha remained in the same position. He could feel the warmth of her mouth penetrating his slacks and immediately jumped into third gear while shifting the car into second.

“Is it safe now?” she asked.

He couldn't lay any claim to feeling very safe right now, considering her lips were moving against his groin. Although he was nearing the exit—and close to combusting—he told her, “Wait until we get on the main road.”

A patient driver he was not, but he welcomed the stream of passing traffic coming in both directions, allowing him a little more time to keep Alisha's face in his lap, even if it was sheer torture. When the cars had cleared, he laid his hand on her head, intending to nudge her up. Instead he stroked his palm over her hair that tonight was straight and soft. He wasn't sure which way he liked it better—untamed curls or sleek sophistication. Both ways, he decided.

When the traffic cleared, he turned onto the street that would lead them to the interstate. “You can get up now.”

She straightened and tugged at her skirt. “That was interesting.”

“Tell me about it.” He started to make a suggestive comment, but when he took his eyes from the road to look at her, he noticed her troubled expression. That concerned him more than his current predicament. “Are you sure you're okay?”

She propped her elbow where the edge of the door met the window and rested her cheek on her curled hand. “I'm just tired. I haven't been sleeping all that well.”

Neither had he, and the major reason was sitting next to him. “I know what you mean. But I've always been somewhat of an insomniac.”

“Me, too.”

All conversation suspended until he turned onto the interstate. “You're going to have to give me directions,” he told her.

“I'll let you know when to exit.”

If only she would let him know what she was thinking. And then his own thoughts came spilling out before he had a chance to stop them. “Were you and Moreau involved?”

“Define ‘involved',” she said as she continued to stare out the windshield.

He shouldn't push. He should tell her never mind. But he had to know, and that wasn't like him. He wasn't normally possessive with women. He'd seen enough of that behavior in his father where his own mother was concerned. “Were you lovers?”

“You could say that. He definitely screwed me, and not only in the way that you're thinking.”

Daniel didn't even want to think about Moreau with his hands on her, but he did think about it, and it pissed him off. “Is he the reason why you left the firm?”

“I told you most of the reasons the other night, so let's just say he was the last straw.”

“Then it ended badly.” At least it had ended, and that relieved Daniel.

“Yes, but it had nothing to do with a lovers' quarrel, if that's
what you're assuming. It had to do with his lack of ethics when we were working together on a criminal-negligence case. You might remember it since your office was involved. Richard Callan was the defendant, a prominent home builder. He was responsible for the faulty wiring that caused the deaths of two kids in a fire.”

“I remember it, but I wasn't handling it.”

“Maybe if you had been handling it the man would have ended up behind bars, where he belonged.”

“You wanted to lose the case?”

“Wouldn't have bothered me in the least. Callan got off because we put the victim on trial.”

“How so?”

She sighed. “In the process of investigating the case, I uncovered information that the kids' mother had been dating a few men, and she was on a date the night of the fire. She'd left her boys in the care of a fourteen-year-old sitter. The sitter survived, but the boys perished. And on top of that, the mother wasn't married to her youngest child's father, as if that should really matter in light of the fact her children were killed due to negligence. Troy was sitting first chair and he said he wasn't going to use it, but he did, despite my protests.”

“Who was the prosecuting attorney?” Daniel had his suspicions, but he waited for confirmation and got it when she said, “Goeble.”

That explained a lot. “He didn't try to keep the testimony out?”

“He tried, sort of, but he wasn't successful. We based our case on the supposition that if she'd been home instead of out with a man, her sons wouldn't have died. Never mind that Callan had a history of using substandard wiring that had resulted in more than one fire, even if it hadn't caused any deaths before that. I sat there and watched the jury return a not-guilty verdict while this poor woman fell apart. It made me sick and sad and totally disgusted.”

Daniel knew that feeling well during the few times when he hadn't received a conviction. “And you'd had enough.”

“There's actually more,” she said. “As it turned out, Troy went to the senior partner and told him about my protests, that I wasn't a
team player.
He received the associate position we were both vying for, and I got the shaft.”

The sorry bastard. “They fired you?”

“No. I quit. Now here I am, trying to right my wrongs by representing the common folk, and I end up with the Massey case. Isn't that grand?”

Daniel glanced at her and caught her smile. “No offense, but by taking on criminal defense, you're still representing less-than-respectable people the majority of the time.”

“No offense taken, and that's true. But that's also only temporary. I don't plan to spend the rest of my career as a public defender. Crime, even petty crime, isn't exactly my cup of tea. But it pays the bills for the time being.”

“You're going to try your hand at being a plaintiff's attorney?”

“Some of the time, yes.”

“Not like Billy Wade, I hope.”

She laughed. “Definitely not. No slick TV ads or eight-hundred numbers. I'm very selective about what I choose to handle. I have to make sure that my clients have been wronged and that the lawsuits aren't frivolous.”

“You're going to take on the evil corporate giants, one client at a time.”

“Something like that. At least I can try.”

Daniel admired her fervor. Hell, he admired her more every time he came in contact with her. Admired her brain as much as he admired her body. She was one of a kind. One in a million. One woman he found damn hard to ignore. “You know, even when the system fails, it's still a good system for the most part. But we all know it's flawed. My failures drive me to work harder.”

She sent him a questioning look. “I didn't think you'd ever failed, Counselor.”