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Suddenly, her diva persona shows itself as a warrior’s shield, but I have to think about the case, so I stay focused. “Does your mother know?”
“No,” she says. “My mother is in love and in another country. Why ruin that for her?”
Cole stands up and motions for me to do the same. “Ms. Havens and I are going to step out of the room and call the detective,” Cole says.
Tara stands up. “Are you formally representing me?”
“No,” Cole says. “I’ll decide after the police interview. I want you to think about your story. I don’t like surprises. Is there anything else I need to know?”
“No,” she says. “There’s nothing.”
Cole motions me forward and when he joins me in the hallway, he says, “Office.”
We head that direction, and once we step inside, we stand face to face. “Tell me your assessment,” he orders.
“I believe her,” I say, “but I don’t like her.”
“Same,” he says. “And she’s right. Her father is not my father. If her father finds out about the MS, he might go down for her.”
I think of my father in that moment, and what my mother said about always feeling loved. He did love me. He would have gone down for me, and I realize now, that maybe, just maybe, it’s time to offer him a little forgiveness. Cole, though, he hasn’t forgiven his father, and it hits me now how new that loss is for both of us. He said he needed to be saved. Maybe he does.
Chapter forty
Lori
Cole perches on the edge of the desk, making it clear he’s in no rush to return to the dining room where our movie star client awaits. “I’m going to call the detective on speaker,” he says, “so that you can start getting used to dealing with assholes like him.” He scrolls through his contacts, clearly looking for the number, and for just a moment I simply admire this man. He’s beautiful, yes, but there is this air of confidence in him that one can only describe as “presence.” He’s confident in the powerful way that most imitate and few master, but it’s inherent to Cole. Or perhaps he simply felt he had to be so perfect from such a young age, it became a learned trait. Whatever the case, you know when he is in the room. His confidence radiates in a way that makes you want to know what he knows, be what he is.
“Here we go,” Cole says, glancing up, and catching me watching him. “What is it?” he asks.
“Nothing work-related. Nothing bad.”
“Well then, I just hope that you’re thinking of the same things I keep thinking about.” He winks, and punches in a number, the ring echoing into the silent room before the detective answers with, “Cole Brooks. I hope you’re on your way.”
“We’re going to need you to come to us to avoid a press bomb,” Cole says. “We’re in a hotel and no one knows she’s here.”
“All right,” he says, a bit too easily, I think, proven by his next comment. “How’s next Wednesday?”
“Today,” Cole says, no inflection in his voice just firm certainty. “As planned. And here at the hotel. This is a courtesy interview, unless you plan to charge my client.”
“I’ve got things to do today here at the precinct that don’t include coming to you,” he replies. “I can give you a courtesy visit to the hotel next week. Actually, I’m not available today after all. I’ll stop by when it feels right.” He hangs up.
Cole grimaces. “That little prick. He’s trying to keep me here to interfere with my work. It’s a game he’s not going to win.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I could call the chief, who I know, but I think we’re going to do what they don’t expect. Go to the police station and issue a statement. Someone will take it.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because then our client looks compliant to a judge, while our detective looks like an asshole who insisted she do this interview today, the day after losing a friend while hosting a breast cancer event.”
“Waller is willing to risk looking that way because he wants to make her uncomfortable,” I assume, “and he wants her to turn on her father.”
“Oh yeah,” he agrees. “He and his cronies might even tip off the press that we’re coming, and just take the pain that comes with it. She’s a weapon in a battle we’re fighting, but don’t understand yet, but we’re going to make it work for us, not them.” He straightens, and catches my hips, walking me to him, before his hands cup my face. “I’m going to kiss you now unless you tell me it’s against the rules, despite the closed door.”
I think of Tara rubbing her boobs against Cole, and of all the men that would have forgotten me for her. But he’s still here, with me, with us. I push to my toes, my intent to kiss him, but he’s already kissing me, a deep slide of tongue before he says, “That was to remind us why we want to end this today and go home tonight.” He sets me away from him. “Let’s go talk to our client.” I reach the door first and open it. I exit directly in front of him to find Tara standing in the living room.
“I got antsy in that room,” she says. “What’s going on?”
