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Rebekkah’s eyes narrowed. André was great at distractions. He got to know his opponent and knew how to attack. That’s what made him a good lawyer. Unfortunately, it had made him cynical in many ways, too, she believed. “You know I don’t gofer for anyone, André. I’m a lawyer in my own right, and your father respects that.”
André snorted. “Yeah. Just like he does me.”
“You know he only wants you back in the business,” Rebekkah argued. “That’s why he’s always on you to get out of the inner city.” Sighing with exasperation she asked, “Why do you come here to cause Drydan problems? Your constant attacks wear him down.”
André at least, had the grace to shift uncomfortably. In khaki pants and light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled halfway up, André even looked good when he was uneasy. That unsettled her, as well. He shouldn’t look so good. However, she was glad she’d scored a point and ruffled that calm exterior. It gave her a feeling of control, something she rarely felt when André Watson was in the same room.
Or she thought she had scored a small triumph until he continued. “You’re naive, Rebekkah. You can’t believe everything Pastor Jacob says about forgiveness. Sometimes things have to be taken into our own hands.”
Sadly, she shook her head. So much for thinking she had unsettled him. He still thought of her as the green kid at the firm, the one who didn’t know what Drydan was really like. “You’re too bitter, André.” Stubbornly she added, “I think I’ll have a talk with Jacob Sunday and mention he should take a small amount of time to preach forgiveness again.” She paused significantly then added, “If you agree to show up, that is.” It concerned Drydan that André rarely went to church. At least Drydan seemed to have changed and cared more since he lost André to his own practice.
André shrugged. “Talk to Jacob?” he asked mildly. She knew he saw right through her lie. She had never been able to bluff André. She’d known him impersonally for nearly six months, and yet he still had the capacity to drive her crazy. He was a good man except for the blind spot he had about his father. “I go sometimes,” André said, absently waving off her comment.
He was a good man except for his blind spot about his father and church, she amended.
Abruptly André’s tone changed. “Believe it or not, Rebekkah, I’m not here to argue with my father but to work on a case we have to reopen.”
Rebekkah gaped at André trying to determine if she’d heard the man right. Finally, when she recovered her voice, she asked, “You’re going to work for your father?”
“Isn’t that what I just said?” he murmured, that smirking little smile appearing as his head tilted down toward her slightly and his eyebrows transformed into that certain angle as he gave her a superior look.
Using the time to smooth her peach jacket and straight skirt, Rebekkah regrouped. “I don’t believe it.”
“Why don’t you come with me to Dad’s office and you’ll find out if I’m telling the truth.” He baited her knowing how she had planned to turn him down the hall in another direction, to another office, anywhere but Drydan’s. However, what would he do if she called his bluff?
“You don’t think I will, do you?” She hated the way this cool, calm golden boy always rattled her.
Slipping his hands in his pockets, he said, “I’m hoping you will.”
She studied him, trying to discern the truth behind the neutral gaze he leveled at her. Was he serious? Did he really plan to come to work for his father again? Or was this simply a trick to see his dad? She couldn’t remember a time both hadn’t ended up in an argument.
Why couldn’t André accept that his dad had changed since the day his son had left? Though Rebekkah hadn’t known him well then, she did know that losing Andréashe had caused a wound within him. A wound that couldn’t heal because they couldn’t talk out the problem. She knew André still wasn’t over Sarah. She’d heard through the grapevine how he avoided places she frequented. He told everyone he was over it, but his hate toward his father supported a different story. Which brought her back to André’s motivations. Was he really interested in just talking this time?
There was no telling how long they would have stood in a face-off if they hadn’t been interrupted.
“Well, well, if it’s not the prodigal brother returned, not to rejoice, however, but to slink into the fold like a wolf hunting more prey.”
Rebekkah winced at Michael’s words.
“Well, hello to you, too, brother,” André drawled.
There was certainly no love lost between the two brothers, Rebekkah thought, exasperated with how this meeting had changed into a confrontation of kin. At least this fight wasn’t on André’s side, Rebekkah reminded herself wearily. Michael didn’t care at all for Drydan’s son, who seemed to always get preferential choice over the stepson. André acted as if he had no idea that it bothered Michael at all.
“How are you doing, Michael?” André smiled benignly at the other golden boy in the office, as Rebekkah thought of him. Michael looked much like André in color and build. The only real differences were the square jaw and the dark brown eyes instead of the deep piercing silver gray ones that André had. There was no doubt both were Margaret’s children. The smoother lines of André’s facial structure, aristocratic nose and silver gray eyes came from Drydan.
“Actually, I was doing great until I heard you had come here to harass your father again.”
Rebekkah noted how some of the employees down the hall seemed to be migrating toward them—obviously to see a family feud in progress. Rebekkah decided to put a stop to it right here and now. Part of her job was to keep Drydan happy. Knowing his employees were getting an eyeful in his firm wasn’t going to bring that about. “He’s here to help his father, he says, Michael. Why don’t we go talk with Drydan?” she offered, turning to André and drawing his attention to her.
“I thought you’d never ask,” André replied and gave her a sweet smile.
Michael showed his disgust with the curling of his lip.
“Michael,” she said, “I need that report on the Keller Water Treatment Facility and how that case turned out—in detail. I’m going to trial in a few weeks and have decided to use the Muller versus the City of Keller case as precedent. Can you do a workup for me?”
Michael hesitated then nodded curtly. “Sure thing, Rebekkah.” Leveling one last disgusted look at his stepbrother, Michael turned and left.
“Looks like he’s as happy as ever,” André murmured as he started down the long carpeted hall toward his father’s office.
“He’s just gotten used to working full-time here, André. He’s settled in,” Rebekkah said quietly. They passed the tall mirrors and portraits of others who had once worked in the office, as well as doors that led to secretaries and legal assistants. Though they were a small firm by many standards, they were the largest firm outside the Fort Worth firms. Cherry-wood tables with floral arrangements dotted the hall as they approached Drydan’s office. “I imagine Michael worries that you’ll come waltzing back into the firm, and he’ll no longer be the number one son.”
André sighed. “I don’t think of Michael like that. True, I didn’t know him most of my life until his father died and he moved in with us, but I’ve always accepted him.”
Rebekkah strolled along beside André, her worry over André’s desire to confront his father shifting to André’s situation with his brother. “I know you have. I think it’s something Michael will have to work through. Be patient.” With a nod they passed the private secretary’s desk.
“Trying to comfort me?” André asked mildly, pausing outside Drydan’s office door.
Rebekkah bristled. Turning to meet his gaze, she replied, “No way. You have too many women around here that would love to do that. I’m simply pointing out the Christian thing to do.”
André chuckled. “The Christian thing. Something you aren’t going to let me forget, are you, Rebekkah, love?”
She reached for the handle of one of the double doors then smiled sweetly—too sweetly. “Not a chance. It gives me great pleasure to remind you daily about forgiveness.” Turning, she pushed the door open, a smile on her dark face. “Drydan, your son is here to see you.”
Chapter Three
“André what brings you here?” Drydan studied his son carefully, the wariness showing plainly on his face.
André noted Rebekkah come into the office with him, closing the door after she was in. He knew his father didn’t need moral support, but he had to hand it to Rebekkah. She was loyal.
“Hello, Father. We need to talk.”
“If you’ve come to argue, son—” Drydan began.
“Not at all,” André said, and crossed the carpeted floor to drop into a plush maroon brocaded chair in front of his father’s desk. André had grown up in these offices. From the time his father had been an associate until he’d bought out the major shares and run the entire law firm, André had played in these halls. His only desire had been to one day be at his father’s side, cleaning up the world for good people to live. As he’d grown up here, he’d learned all about the business. They had lawyers that specialized in all kinds of things. André had decided early on he wanted to work with civil law. And he had seen that dream come true. He had enjoyed it…most of the time. Except when his father started to insist things be done a certain way, that they could only take high-profile cases and on and on. In actuality, leaving had given him freedom he hadn’t had at Watson and Watson.
“André said he had a proposal to discuss with you,” Rebekkah prompted as she moved beside André and seated herself in the other chair.
She really was a pretty young woman, her black hair hanging straight and curling slightly under on the ends. She was tall, willowy and slender, and her dark brown eyes and smooth complexion reminded him of a pampered socialite instead of a lawyer. Rebekkah was very careful of her appearance. Reluctantly, he returned his attention to his father. Though he was here and planned to bring up something that he hoped would eventually force his father’s hand, he couldn’t help the feelings deep within that reminded him this was his father, the man who had raised him.
His life hadn’t been bad like it had for some of his clients, who often told him their stories. His father simply insisted on complete control. This was unacceptable in many ways. A small part of him, the part that had grown up loving his father, warned him that if he hurt his father in retaliation for all his father had done, he would hurt himself, as well.
But he had to do it. It had to be done. His dad had to admit this time he’d gone too far. If he could do that without that eternal hurt then fine, otherwise… Pushing that from his mind André shifted and said, “I do, Dad. Remember the Kittering Lumber suit several years back that this firm handled?”
“The Alaska case,” Drydan said. Sitting back in the tall leather chair, he crossed his gray-clad legs. The charcoal gray suit was tailored to his tall figure, and he looked daunting in it, the way he sat just so as if in deep thought. It was a pose André knew well, one his father had grown accustomed to taking when discussing a case. “A group of townspeople was trying to prove the lumber plant was causing cases of cancer.”
“A lumber plant causing cancer?” Rebekkah asked, curiosity rife in her voice.
André allowed his gaze to touch Rebekkah’s. “They treat the wood there. Chemicals were involved. I handled a lot of the work on that case.” André forced his gaze away from Rebekkah and back to his father. André noted he enjoyed looking at her. In church, whenever he went, he’d thought it was simply because she sat nearly directly across from him. However, here she wasn’t sitting across from him. Here she was sitting next to him, showing interest in a case he’d once worked on. Most women wouldn’t care what the case was about, but she did. He saw it in her gaze as it went from his father to him and back. He found that interest challenged him to explain more. However, his father jumped in.
“So what does that have to do with us now?” Drydan asked impatiently. “We proved the group was wrong and our clients had not poisoned the lake in that area. Things ended great, and we still have them as our clients today, bringing in quite a bit of money for us, because of that win.”
André turned to his father. “Word has reached me that someone doctored information. And it seems that there are people out there getting ready to reopen the case.”
Drydan harrumphed. “Nonsense.”
“My sources are fairly certain of this. They warned me that this company and all involved in it are a possible target for suit in a cover-up.”
Drydan paused. The gray-haired man wearing the custom-tailored suit, the man who usually chewed up the competition and spit them out, paused and studied his son. “It’s a ridiculous charge,” he argued, but there was hesitation in his voice.
“You know that and I know that, Dad, but you’re the one who taught me that reputation is important. A high-profile case like this reopening could cause irreparable damage to the company.”
“So why come to me about this? I would think you’d love to see this company go under.”
André stiffened. Here it came. He and his dad couldn’t sit down without it turning into an argument. His dad wouldn’t accept him since he’d left the business. He had to poke at André to provoke him until they ended up arguing. “You know that’s not true, Dad. I only want you to admit you were wrong about firing Sarah.”
“She lied to you.”
André’s lips tightened as the old feelings surfaced, as bitterness rose. “She didn’t lie, she simply hadn’t told me the truth—at first.”
“Same thing,” Drydan said with a wave of his hand.
André’s temper heated even more at that simple dismissal of his feelings.
“I think we should stick to the problem here,” Rebekkah broke in.
Drydan nodded, and André knew now why Rebekkah was there. She was there to run interference over anything his father might not want to get into. Give her a point for initiative. “Right you are, Rebekkah,” Drydan replied.
Though André would like to finish this and somehow force his father to admit he was wrong, he reminded himself to stick with what he was doing. If he could get his dad to admit he was wrong about this case, then maybe… “I worked on that case, Dad. It’s my reputation as much as yours on the line here. I thought perhaps we could work together on this, go back over the information that was presented and check out everything on our end before the case is reopened so we can nip this in the bud.”
“They won’t find anything,” Drydan said, then paused. “But that might be a good idea. Just, um, what did your contact give you to bring you running over here?”
That was his dad, always the lawyer. “An interoffice memo from Kittering Lumber insisting that nothing be said on the subject, and it just so happens to mention Marcus Langley in it as putting out those orders.”
“He is the owner. There’s nothing unusual about that.”
“True, but couple that with the fact that there is a newspaper article saying Marcus knew nothing about what was going on up there. If I remember correctly, he swore that under oath. But this memo was written before the trial. I’m not sure, and it’s flimsy, but someone has decided to go back and revisit the site. My contact also said there is new evidence that has turned up that will prove Kittering’s parent Company, Langley International, did indeed assist in a cover-up.”
“Like what?” His father’s eyes cut sharply to him, intense with his need to know every detail.
“I don’t have that information. The contact only said to go back over the old records and to search deeply before our career ended up ruined.”
Actually, it had said before André’s career was ruined, but his father didn’t know it had been so personal. “What I want to do, Dad, is go back over the old cases, prepare a review on them. I’d like to see what we can find from then until now.”
“Does this mean you’ll be coming back?” his dad asked.
André hesitated. “I’m not giving up my own practice. You could have someone here work with me as a liaison. Someone who can be a go-between.”
“I’d rather you come back here, son.”
“I need to be out on my own,” André argued quietly.
His father’s lips tightened in anger. Then he nodded curtly. “Rebekkah can work with you on this. I’m adding you back on the payroll while you do this, though.”
“Dad…”
“That’s nonnegotiable. If you’re going to help clear up whatever this is then you’re on the payroll.”
Well, that compromise was better than André had hoped for the outcome of this meeting. He had thought his dad might refuse outright unless he came back to work for them. “Thanks, Dad.”
Drydan stood. “Thanks for bringing this to our attention,” he said.
André stood, as well, and headed for the door. “Guess this just might prove you aren’t always right, Dad,” he said.
Drydan flushed.
André continued before his father could comment. “I’ll find all the information I can and get started tomorrow.”
Rebekkah, who had been relatively quiet until now, called, “You will need to check with me about my schedule. I’m in court tomorrow. Perhaps the next day.”
André paused and turned. His eyebrow went up. Surprised, he worked to curb a smile. Though it had been a while since he dated, he knew a rebuke from a woman when he heard one. He should apologize for his presumptuous attitude. She was probably miffed about the shot he’d taken at his father. But instead he baited her. “I can work on it tomorrow while you’re in court.”
“Nonsense,” Drydan said. “If she’s the liaison I want her there with you working.”
Patience, André admonished himself. “Until then,” he said and started toward the door.
“I’ll let you know what time,” Rebekkah called.
Again, André paused, almost at the door. Turning, he met her smug gaze and smiled slowly. “Over dinner, because I’ll be busy all day Tuesday.”
When her smile collapsed and burgeoning surprise showed, he decided he’d scored his point. With a wave, he walked out the door and headed down the hall.
Rebekkah was forceful by nature, but she was going to learn when it came to being a lawyer she was way out of her league with him. He had a job to do and he’d do it.
Chapter Four
Brighton’s was the perfect restaurant for a meeting. Quiet, dark, a place where they could talk and it wouldn’t get out of hand.
Rebekkah liked that.
A lot.
It had taken five calls, four messages and two secretarial meetings before the two worked out their schedules. She could be as stubborn as he could about who would be in charge of this meeting.
Rebekkah felt she’d won. She swung her stocking-clad legs out of her car. Once standing, she shut the door behind her, wondering if André had arrived yet.
He’d wanted to meet at a local café. She’d nixed that idea, wanting to meet at the office over Chinese food—to which he’d said no.
Tan heels clicked across the dark asphalt as she headed toward the front door.
