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“Funny. I didn’t think he had one,” said Christina, taking a sip of her coffee.
I glanced at the clock on the wall. “I should go. You can never predict Manhattan traffic and I have a two o’clock at the courthouse. Thanks for the company.”
“Anytime,” said Natalie, and Christina just waved me off.
Jake was right outside the lunchroom; his lips formed a straight line, and he pressed on his earpiece. I could hear a loud voice on the other end. The other person must have been shouting. Jake swore under his breath.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” I asked.
“You’re going to have to cancel your meeting.”
I looked back at him as though he’d lost his mind. “Absolutely not.”
Jake closed his eyes, gathering his patience, I assumed, then put his hand on my shoulder. “There are reporters outside your office. I don’t know who tipped them off, but somehow a story broke this morning that the governor’s daughter was kidnapped yesterday and her apartment burglarized.”
I thought of Calvin’s words. Was he genuinely concerned, or was he hoping for details to share for a price? Most people wouldn’t jump to that conclusion, but I’d learned that lesson a while ago.
“Well, they can report that I’m fine and back at work. I’m not canceling my meeting. So, you can either do your job and walk me to my car or move out of my way.”
Jake closed his eyes again, then turned and pressed on his earpiece. “All right. We’re coming out. Get the car ready. Yes, I know, I warned her. But I told you she wouldn’t listen. We’re on our way now.”
I smiled. “Thank you.” Then I grabbed my coat and walked to the front door.
There were about five reporters holding recorders outside and two cameramen. As soon as I opened the door, they turned on their spotlights. I shielded my eyes with my hand and walked towards the parking lot.
“Ms. Adams! Ms. Adams!” Their shouts were deafening as though twice the amount of people were calling out to me. “Can you tell us how you got away? Are you hurt? Was it terrorists?”
They hurled question after question at me, but Jake pushed the reporters out of the way as soon as I stepped out and blocked them with his body. “Let’s go.”
But my boots froze to the ground, my body paralyzed by the lights, the shouting, and the frenzy. Jake put his arm around my shoulder and pushed his way through the crowd.
He covered me with his body until we reached the car and opened the passenger door. Will sat in the driver’s seat. “What took you so long?” he teased Jake.
“I want to see you bulldoze through a dozen bodies in less than two minutes.”
Will shrugged. “I only counted ten.”
Jake shook his head. “Just drive.”
Will chuckled while he drove us, leaving the reporters scrambling to get to their cars and follow us.
Turning to look back through the rear window, I noticed at least two cars were already on the road. “Do you think you can lose them?” I asked.
“Of course I can.”
Jake turned to me with his chin down and eyes raised. “You better put your seatbelt on.”
I clicked the belt in just as Will pressed down on the gas and tore down a side street. He zigged and zagged down the laneways, losing both cars at the intersection.
He hadn’t taken the usual route to the courthouse, probably trying to throw the reporters off.
“Thank you,” I said when he pulled up in front of the building and there was no one waiting for me.
Jake jumped out first and opened my door. “We don’t have much time.” I hopped out of the car and hurried up the concrete steps, exhaling after the door closed behind us.
I looked around the foyer and spotted my client. “There he is,” I said, pointing to the white-haired man in a black suit. But Jake wasn’t paying attention. His eyes were glued to another man, one wearing a police uniform, and a crowd of men in suits around him.
“I’ll take my client inside the courtroom where we can speak privately and not be disturbed by any journalists,” I told Jake.
