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Suddenly, his eyes lifted to her. Her expression didn’t change as she stared at him. Max gave her a slight smile, quickly shifting his eyes from her to the others around the table. Focused now on William Lewis, he cleared his throat.
“We should get started,” he grunted roughly.
“Yes. Yes, of course.” William took a quick sip of his tea before clasping his hands on the table.
She was positive William knew exactly who Max was, but she’d also seen him play this game before. It was meant to throw the other person off. Many people came in with their power suits and loud bluster, thinking they’d bully him into doing exactly what they wanted. Their needs always taking precedence over anything else, with no regard for legality or ethics. This was William’s way of showing them exactly who he was, and whose office they were seated in.
William began speaking, and the longer he spoke, the more panicked Kiana became.
“Mr. Bishop here needs legal counsel. Not for him, but his nephew, to be precise. It appears yesterday afternoon, one Jeremy Manning was arrested and charged with assault. Based on the condition of the victim, there’s a concern he’ll be charged with a hate crime.”
Kiana’s head slowly turned to Max, who sat there stewing silently. Brow creased. Lips pursed in a tight line. But he didn’t say a word. Just sat there watching. “You mentioned he’s a nephew. How old is he?”
“Sixteen,” Max’s attorney answered.
“It’s a juvenile case.” Turning to William, she raised an eyebrow. “Not our usual type of case.”
“No, it’s not. However, Mr. Bishop is asking us to take on the case if his nephew is charged as an adult.”
Glancing over at Max, she wondered why he was so silent. Was he upset? Sad? Numb? Why wasn’t he talking? Say something, Max, her mind begged silently.
“Are the charges legitimate?” Kiana’s question was directed at one specific person in the room. Max. She couldn’t help but speak up. He needed to answer the question. She also wanted to know why they came here, to her firm, for help.
Hard eyes turned to her. “My nephew says he is innocent. I believe him.”
His tone was cold. Firm. Kiana didn’t really give a shit if he was annoyed. She was not asking him the question as his attorney, but as the woman he fucked every night. If he was mad about that, he’d better get glad real fucking quick.
He’d ignored her for more than a day. She slept at his home, in his bed, all by herself last night. Worried out of her mind when he didn’t contact her. No call. No text. Nothing. Yet, he waltzes in here as if his word is law. This motherfucker didn’t even acknowledge her presence other than to say her name. What kind of shit was that? Hurt grew inside as she thought about the situation.
They stared at each for a few long seconds. Disappointment in him was reflected in her eyes. What looked to be anger and frustration was displayed in his. The question was, who was he angry with?
Another voice joined the discussion. “Ms. Moore. If I may, let me give you some context. Mr. Bishop’s nephew has a history.” Clearing his throat, he glanced at Max with a silent question. Max nodded his head as if telling him to proceed.
“Not only does the nephew have a history, but so do others in the family. We’re facing a delicate situation. Donner & Lewis is known for its virulent support of criminal clients of color. We believe, in order to get the best representation for Mr. Bishop’s nephew, this firm would be our best opportunity.”
Shaking her head, she interrupted. “William, I appreciate you bringing me into the meeting, especially since Mr. Bishop and I are personally acquainted.” Turning to Mr. Valentine, she asked, “What does our representation of clients of color have to do with Max’s nephew or the charge against him?”
As she made the statement, things began to click. Taking a few deep breaths, she briefly closed her eyes. Praying what her mind had conjured up wasn’t the truth, she turned her head to the one man who could answer this for her but refused to open his fucking mouth.
Glancing at Max, she saw that he was staring at her, an unreadable look in his eyes. His elbows were resting on the arms of the leather office chair, his fingers steepled in front of him, the tips resting on his chin.
Making a point to look away from him, she addressed William. “Shouldn’t Jamie Rutledge be in this meeting instead? These types of cases are her passion.”
William nodded his head as she spoke. Of course, he knew all of this. It was his firm after all. Then again, if he knew this, why was she here?
“Before we contact Jamie, Mr. Bishop and Mr. Valentine wanted to propose an added member to the team. Since your focus is employment law, their request was out of the ordinary. However, they asked if you could serve in an advisory capacity to Mr. Bishop. An enhancement to the team to help us navigate this…situation.”
There it was again, an insinuation that it would be difficult to defend Max’s nephew because of some other complications.
“I’d like some transparency here. I feel there are things being said in coded language. You’ve told me what he’s been charged with, but nothing else. If I’m here in an advisory capacity in support of Mr. Bishop, then I need the details.” Her voice had been sharper than intended, so when she finished, she looked at William and added, “Please.”
Nodding at her, he motioned to the other attorney. “Yes, let’s discuss the multiple elephants in the room. Mr. Bishop wanted Kiana on the team, so she needs to be fully read-in.”
Kiana felt Max shift in his seat. His hands here now resting on his flat stomach as he leaned back. His hard gaze was still on her, but he continued the silent treatment. He was really pissing her off right now.
Mr. Valentine cleared his throat. Leaning forward, his gaze was steady. “Ms. Moore, Jeremy has a history of accusations of racial violence. In addition, several members of Mr. Bishop’s family have been arrested, or convicted, of violence against minorities. Mr. Bishop’s grandfather led one of the longest existing white nationalist parties located here in Virginia. When he stepped down, Mr. Bishop’s uncle ascended to the leadership role.”
Her stomach roiled with the need to purge the food she’d eaten today. This wasn’t happening. Was Max somehow involved in his family’s extracurricular activities? Did his relatives burn crosses in the front yards of black families? Were Confederate flags plastered all over their cars to stoke fear among those who saw the vehicles? Was their relationship all a lie? Was he with her to fulfill some type of fetish?
