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“Do I have a choice?”
“No,” he said in a soft but firm tone.
She knew he was right, though she was loath to admit that. Both John and Dr. Rivers, her psychiatrist, had told her that, but it was John who had made a believer out of her. He hadn’t exactly threatened the security of her job, but he had certainly threatened her pending promotion, a position she wanted badly.
She remembered that day so well. He had called her into his corner office. When she’d taken a seat, John had gotten up, come around his desk, sat in the chair closest to her and taken her hand. “Look me in the eye and tell me you’re not struggling?”
Kelly couldn’t. Tears clogged her vision as her shoulders began to shake. “Have I hurt the firm? If I have, I’m so sorry.”
“I won’t lie and say you haven’t made some bad decisions and choices recently, because you have. But I think you know that yourself. You haven’t damaged the firm—not yet. That’s what we’re trying to avoid.”
“Thank God.” Kelly had hung on to his hand and squeezed it.
“You have a chance to become a partner in this firm,” John said, “but only if you get control of your emotions and become the attorney we know you can be.”
But that’s the person I was before my daughter and husband were killed by a drunk driver, she’d wanted to scream.
As if John had read her thoughts, he’d added, “You have to come to grips with your loss.”
“I have,” Kelly cried, jerking her hand out of his. She resented being patronized, as if she was a child. She dug her fingers into her palms. She couldn’t believe this. She was Kelly Baker, firm overachiever. She had brought into the firm some of its biggest and best clients. Shouldn’t that count for something? Apparently not, because at the first sign of trouble they wanted to toss her away like a piece of garbage.
Her conscience suddenly rebelled, reminding her that she was blowing John’s words way out of proportion. Deep down, she knew he and the company were firmly on her side.
“No, you haven’t faced your loss,” he said softly, patiently. “Far from it, and that’s the problem. You’ve buried your pain and heartache in your work. Now, four years after the fact, the headache you never faced, or dealt with openly, is doing a number on you. It’s taking its toll on your emotions and your health. We both know you’re on the brink of having a complete breakdown.”
She hated to admit that he was right, but he was.
Push had come to shove and she could no longer fool herself into thinking she and everything around her was just fine.
“I know your cousin needs help, Kelly,” John said into the growing silence. “Go and help her. New surroundings, new people, new job…” He paused with a lopsided smile. “Although I can’t imagine you serving coffee or food, you’ll give it you all, like you do everything else you tackle.”
She forced a smile. “I can’t imagine that either, but it looks like you’ve given me no choice.”
“That’s right,” John admitted in a stern voice.
Because her throat was too full to speak, Kelly had leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, then walked out. That had been three weeks ago. Three of the longest weeks of her life.
“Kelly, are you still there?” John asked into the silence now.
“Yes. Sorry. Actually, I was just rehashing our last conversation.”
“That’s good, because nothing has changed on this end.”
“I know.” She heard the break in her voice but hoped he hadn’t. She wanted to keep her dignity at all costs.
“You get back to work. I’ll talk to you again soon.”
The second she replaced the receiver and walked back into the dining area, Kelly pulled up short. Grant was walking in the door with a scowl on his face.
Her heart dropped to her toes. She’d been right; he wasn’t glad to see her. Then why was he here? Simple. He wanted some food or coffee. Maybe both.
“You look surprised to see me,” he said in a pleasant enough tone, however, his big body striding toward a table.
Today he was dressed a little more formally than he had been before. He had on jeans and boots, of course, but his shirt was smooth cotton, not flannel, and instead of his hard hat, he had on a black Stetson, which he removed.
“Actually, I am,” Kelly said with honesty once she found her tongue. After that she didn’t know what to say, which was totally unlike her. But then she reminded herself she’d just recently kissed this man’s mouth with hot, heady passion, which had and still did unnerve her to the core.
When he’d walked by her, she’d gotten a whiff of his scent—fresh and good, as if he’d just gotten out of the shower. That added to her unnerved state.
Feeling her face flame, Kelly turned away. She hadn’t had thoughts like that since her husband died. “Would you care for something to drink?” she finally asked. “Or eat?”
“Coffee’ll do.”
“Are you sure you want me to serve it?” She made herself ask that with a smile hoping to lighten his mood. Probably another foolish move.
The scowl on his face softened and he actually grinned, which affected her heart again. God, she had to get hold of herself.
“Sure, though notice I’m sitting real close to the table.”
She smiled again.
This time he didn’t reciprocate. That scowl reappeared, even fiercer than before.
Feeling as though she were treading in deep water, Kelly got his coffee and carefully placed the mug in front of him. “You seem upset.” A flat statement of act. If it had to do with her, she wanted to know it.
“Yeah, but not at you.” His eyes met hers.
She felt a flush steal into her face.
He leaned forward and said in a low, husky voice, “You look so damn good, if I had my way, I’d grab you right now and kiss you until you begged me to stop. Even then, I’m not sure I would.”
His provocative statement took her aback so much that all she could do was stand there speechless while a flush of heat charged through her body.
“Do you have a minute?”
“Sure,” she said, uneasy that she was going to hear something she didn’t want to.
He pulled out the chair adjacent to him and indicated that she sit.
“Let me get a cup of coffee first. I’ll be right back.” Once she’d returned and sat down, they remained silent while taking several sips out of the big mugs. Finally she said, “Something’s happened.”
Grant’s brows bunched together and he sighed. “You got that right.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“I’m looking for a good attorney. Know any?”
Kelly’s heart skipped a beat, but she kept her calm facade in place. Did she ever! “With all your business dealings, I’m surprised you don’t have one.”
“I do, but unfortunately he’s out of the country. And his partner’s an idiot.”
Kelly’s eyebrows rose, but she simply said, “Okay.”
“Sorry. That’s not exactly true. Let’s just say we don’t see eye to eye on things.”
Kelly merely nodded, then asked, “Why do you think you need an attorney?” If he didn’t want to tell her, he didn’t have to, but apparently he wanted someone to talk to or he wouldn’t have said anything to begin with.
“Dan Holland, the landowner I bought the timber from, just called me and dropped a friggin’ bombshell.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, and one of the worst things about it is that I thought he was my friend.”
“Friendship and business are two different things, Grant. You should know that.”
“I do know that, dammit. Still, in a small town, a man’s word is as good as his signature. And I had both from Dan.”
“So what’s changed?” Kelly pressed, sensing his tempter building to no good end.
“He wants my crews to stop cutting timber.”
“And the reason?”
“Some crap about an illegitimate half brother showing up out of the blue and wanting a say in the deal Dan and his brothers had just made with me.”
Kelly was not only shocked but puzzled. “And your friend’s buying that story and wants to stop the deal?”
“Hook, line and sinker. He said that if Larry Ross—that’s the guy’s name—turns out to be legit, then he has a right to be included.”
“Sounds ludicrous.”
“It’s more than that. It’s crazy as hell.”
“So what was your response?” Kelly asked.
“I told Holland he was nuts if he let some bozo he’s never seen before waltz in and make that kind of claim, and not tell him to take a freakin’ hike.”
“I find it unbelievable that he didn’t,” Kelly said, shaking her head in dismay.
“Dan said he’d never seen me this upset.”
Kelly’s eyes widened. “I have a feeling that was the wrong thing to say.”
“You’re right. I told him if he thought I was upset now, just wait. He ain’t seen nothing yet. At the moment, I was as calm as the Pope taking a nap.”
Kelly shook her head. “What a mess.”
“There’s more,” Grant said. “Dan defended this Ross character, saying that his dad had been a womanizer, that it was possible he’d had an affair and Larry Ross could be the product of that affair.
“And apparently the woman, Ross’s mother, said that she’d kept quiet long enough, swearing to her son that Lucas Holland was definitely Ross’s daddy and that Ross should get anything and everything that was entitled to him.”
Kelly gave him a pointed look. “And your response?”
“Hogwash.”
Her lips twitched.
Grant blew out a long breath. “I told him that’s just too pat, too hokey. Ross is his problem, not mine. And if he is legit or not has zip to do with me. We have a deal that is on the up-and-up—signed, sealed and delivered.”
“He didn’t see it that way, right?”
“You got it. Apparently Larry Ross has threatened to file an injunction to stop my operation, claiming his family doesn’t have the right to sell the timber without his signature.”
Kelly was aghast and it showed.
“This is crazy, because at the time Dan didn’t even know this guy existed. But this Ross character evidently doesn’t care.
“So I told Holland to give me my money back. An injunction could wipe me out financially.”
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