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What is happening to me?
I shrug, uncrossing my arms and trying to find my chipped nail polish more interesting. “We, uh, met on a case, actually. He was opposing counsel.”
“You’re a lawyer,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Yes. I work for Hammond Law.” When he doesn’t comment further, I continue. “Once the case was over, he asked me out. At first, he wasn’t anything like the asshat he is today, or he didn’t seem to be, anyway.”
“So, what made you finally see him for who he is?”
“I caught him stealing paperwork from my locked desk at my home. He was trying to help his company’s clients when we opposed them.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Chance asks, nearly swerving the truck. “I knew he was low, but I didn’t know he was that low.”
“You’re telling me,” I mutter under my breath.
“So, what’s he doing free, then? I’m assuming that’s against the law or something.”
“I didn’t have any proof other than what I saw. He made up some bullshit excuse about finding it and putting it ‘somewhere safe,’ but I didn’t believe him. I always lock up my work when I take it home, especially when I have people over.” I let out a breath, calming the rising anger building within me. “I didn’t know how long he’d been doing it or for which cases. I knew which ones I’d struggled with to gain the upper hand, but since I would never oppose him in a case due to conflict of interest, it wasn’t something I’d even thought about.”
We sit in silence for a breath, letting the weight of my confession settle between us. I carried a lot of guilt. Guilt for myself. Guilt for my clients and my company. Most of all, I wanted to kick my own ass for ever believing in Laughlin or the future I thought we had together.
He never once registered on my asshole-o-meter. Not until the day I caught him with a file in his hand.
Now Chance, I don’t know where he stands on my asshole-o-meter either. I can feel he has potential to be one, but I can’t quite read him. Not yet, and that makes me nervous.
“So, what about you? Where did your hate for Laughlin come from?”
“He tried to take my company to court last year.” Chance’s voice is gruff and low, barely audible over the truck’s engine. “His client made up some bullshit claim that we falsified vet documents after he bought more cattle than he could afford.”
“I think I remember Laughlin talking about that. He just said it was a big case that would solidify his shot at becoming partner.” I remember the conversations while he’d been working on the trial. Of course, he’d made it sound like he was fighting a big company who took advantage of the ‘little guy.’ I’d been convinced he was doing the right thing, standing up for those who had been taken advantage of.
Now I wonder just how many cases Laughlin had fought that were bogus or exaggerated to benefit him or his client.
“He didn’t win. It didn’t take our lawyers very long to prove that his client was the one that falsified the documents and did a piss-poor job at trying to hide it.”
“Did you ever find out why?” My curiosity is getting the best of me. The version of events Laughlin had fed me were vastly different.
“His ranch was going under, and he thought I’d be his best chance at a quick buck. He probably thought I’d just pay him to go away or settle out of court, but that’s not how I roll. I know my company, and I know we do everything top of the line. We don’t cut corners.” Chance speaks passionately, grinding the words through his teeth in disgust. “Little did he know, I would go to the ends of the Earth to protect my ranch and my family name.”
“I’d say you did a good job, then. I remember Laughlin was pissed when they lost. Of course, he didn’t go into why.”
I don’t hate that Laughlin had been taken down that way. He deserved it if what Chance said was true. I remember how mad he was when he came home after the trial. He brooded about it for weeks. I could barely stand to be around him at the time, but being a lawyer, I know how easy it is to take cases personally, especially when you pour months, even years, into a trial.
But now that I know what really happened, I know it was more of a blow to his ego than him not being able to help someone.
Jackass.
“Of course not. My lawyer made him look like a child in court. I’ve never seen a judge so angry. Chastised him like he was fresh out of law school.” Chance chuckles as he pulls off the back road and onto the ranch grounds. I am almost distracted by the unlikely sound from the gruff man, but I can’t take my attention away from the sight in front of me. Imposing large, black steel gates meet us with a ‘WCR’ standing proudly in the middle.
Chance slows, and when he crawls the truck to just in front of the gate, it begins to open. We sit in silence as we watch the drive appear in front of us. I keep my gaze through the windshield as we pull up to the front of a large farmhouse. It’s been years since I’d been to the ranch, only coming when I first moved to Whiskey Falls and my friend insisted I come to a rodeo event the town had put on. Since that time, I’d forgotten how large the house was. Now I’m wondering if Chance lives in this massive house alone.
The thought leaves me a little sad. Such a big house and no one to share it with.
Or maybe he has quite a few someones to share it with. I’ve heard the rumours around town and saw the pictures online. It doesn’t seem like Chance Delcan is ever hurting for company.
So why is he insisting on spending time with me?
I don’t get a chance to ask. As soon as he stops the truck and hops out, he leaves me alone with my questions. I watch him as he rounds the front of the truck, stopping next to my car as Wyatt parks next to us.
