I raised my brows. Who the fuck did Patricia think she was talking to?
“Of course I know about the event. My firm puts it on, so yes, I’m aware.” I glanced at Ainsley and found a small grin tugging at her lips. “Furthermore, I’m already going with someone else. Now, unless you have anything related to the case I’m working on, Ainsley and I are quite busy this morning. We have a court appearance to prepare for.”
Patricia glanced down to Ainsley and sneered in disgust. That told me everything I needed to know about Patricia…as well as myself. For the first time, I saw myself through someone else’s eyes, and to be quite honest, it was extremely disappointing.
“So what are you saying?” she asked.
“We have court,” Ainsley repeated and stood from her chair. “Mr. Newstrom, I’ll grab everything we need for today. I’ll see about scheduling a celebratory party for our defendant, if you’d like?”
I nodded. “Sounds perfect. I appreciate that, and I know our guy will too.”
“Who are you defending?” Patricia asked.
“Well, if you were actually interested, you should turn on the news,” Ainsley told her as she turned and walked out my office door.
“Well, she’s just a little bitch, isn’t she?” Patricia said.
I smiled. I couldn’t help myself. “No, she’s a promising up-and-coming future attorney who just took the bar. She has a bright future ahead of her. Now, if you don’t mind, I have work to do. I’m sure you’ll find a date for the event. Or go stag. No difference to me, Patricia.”
I stepped past her and held my door open. Looking at the woman now, I didn’t know what I ever saw in her. It was crazy I once thought she could’ve been the love of my life.
At least until I’d caught her fucking my former best friend Mitch.
Patricia huffed and walked past me as she left. “You’ll regret not taking me, Chase,” she warned. “You know I have the connections to make you big.”
“Amy,” I called to our receptionist. “Please make sure Patricia leaves and that the door closes on her way out.”
“Yes, sir,” Amy called back.
“Fuck you, Chase,” Patricia growled.
I smirked and shook my head. “That ship has fucking sailed.” I closed the door to my office and the words that ship has fucking sailed haunted my mind. They were the same words that Ainsley had written in her letter.
With a sigh, I crossed my office, picked up my briefcase, and put inside everything we needed to get this case dropped. Soon, Lance Vanderbilt would be exonerated. The question, though, was what would become of Miranda Cooper? Lance’s family could countersue, but would he agree to it? He was a nice kid, but his family was wealthy, and everything rode on their name and image.
I looked at the clock. We had an hour before the court session began. I walked toward my office door and reached for the handle just as the door opened. Ainsley stood before me.
Our eyes met, and for a brief moment, we were both motionless, speechless. There was a longing in her eyes that passed between us, and then it was gone.
“We should go,” she said.
I nodded and held up my briefcase. “Lance should be a free man before the day’s end.”
“Then let’s go get this done.”
Chapter Seven
Ainsley
“Not guilty,” declared the jury foreman.
The new witness’s testimony had been thrown out, and Lance was now a free man. His name and standing would require some massive cleanup, but we already had a PR firm working on just that.
Lance shook Chase’s hand and then turned to me. “You both are amazing. Thank you so much.”
“It was all Mr. Newstrom,” I told him. And it was. He was the attorney. I was basically his errand girl.
Miranda Cooper’s parents screamed out something about injustice as their daughter, in tears, kept saying, “I’m sorry,” to Lance.
There was sadness in his eyes. He was happy to be free, but the cost was the friendship he had with this girl.
It was unfortunate she’d gone after his family’s money. Greed was a nasty sin. As was lust. I looked over to Chase and found him watching me. My stomach fluttered with butterflies. I smiled and looked away.
I needed air. It felt like the courtroom was closing in the closer I stood next to Chase. I glanced at him again, and he was closing the distance to me. Shit. Double shit. What am I supposed to do now?
“Well done, Speire. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
I smiled and offered a slight shrug. “Yes, you would have. It just may have taken you longer.”
He chuckled. “Listen, now that this is done, I’d like to ask—”
My phone rang, and it jolted me where I stood. I didn’t know if Chase was about to ask me out or ask me if I had received my bar results. I didn’t know what I would say if he asked me to grab a drink. It wouldn’t be Scotch, that much I knew.
But why would he ever ask me on a date? He was so far out of my league. In my dreams and home with my trusty BOB were the only places I could imagine myself with Chase and not have to worry about rejection.
“I’m sorry. Hang on,” I said and fished my phone out. It was my sister. “Hey,” I answered. “I’m in court.” Well, sort of. The case was over, but she didn’t need to know that.
“Obviously not or you wouldn’t have answered. I watched enough Law and Order to know that much.”
I laughed into the phone. She was a stylist in downtown Fort Worth and loved what she did. She was a sort of therapist for the majority of her clients.
“Well, you got me there. But listen, let me call you back. We just won and need to pack up.”
“Oh, did the rapist get off?” she asked.
“That’s not very nice. He was set up.”
“Sure, whatever. Call me when you get time. We’ll go have a drink to celebrate your win.”
“Love you. Goodbye.” I hung up without giving her the opportunity to say anything further.
“Who was that?” Chase asked.
“My sister. Well, congratulations today on your win. You deserved it. Unless there’s anything else, I need to run. Leave whatever needs to be completed on my desk, and I’ll have it done ASAP.”
He nodded. “Very well. Enjoy your afternoon.”
I met his gaze once more. I didn’t want him to ask me whatever he had planned, so I hurried out of the courtroom before he changed his mind and I combusted from overheating with lust.
I pulled up to my sister’s shop in Fort Worth. The day was still young, and the atmosphere was busy with women getting their hair washed, cut, and colored. In the back sat pedicure massage chairs, and behind that was the massage parlor and facial rooms. My sister did it all and made pretty good money at it. She loved what she did and had tried many times to get me to go into business with her.
“I’m not one to have enough patience to work with hair or listen to why so-and-so’s husband won’t have sex with her,” I’d told her many times.
“It’s not all about that,” she had countered. “It’s fun and you get to make great…and interesting friends.”