Authors: Dianne Venetta
But what was she thinking
? It wasn’t like the kid to lie. Sam sucked in the thoughts, her breathing now labored. Jess was in trouble, there was no way around it. But she had to get the girl to see that resorting to more lies would only make matters worse. Sam lunged into the next kick, torso twisting, lengthening, as she continued, her muscles pumped with the infusion of warm blood, a fine layer of sweat covering her body. She rolled into the next maneuver—kick, kick, punch—
one-two-three
. Leaping again, she propelled herself into a double kick, but nearly lost her balance. “Damn it,” she grumbled, more winded than usual. “Shake it off, Sam. Shake it off.”
With the solidity of a hundred year old oak, she planted her feet squarely beneath her and brought graceful arms up and outward, gathering focus and strength as she prepared for another sequence. Who would have thought Jessica was entertaining more than one guy at a time! Sam punched, one-two-three. Didn’t she know there were boundaries? Rules regarding exclusivity that must be maintained and respected?
Of course she did. Sam sucked in her breath, swung shoulder level arms in a circle around her and thrust out another kick.
Of course she did
. But how could she rebel so hard against doing the right thing? She wasn’t raised that way. And despite her claims to the contrary, Sam had never demonstrated anything but honesty and integrity in her relationships. Her leg came swooping down short of its goal.
Had she
?
Sam paused, her energy lagged. Had she set a poor example?
Was this her fault
?
In preparation for another round of kicks, she extended her arms and braced them erect. She hoisted herself up into a leap but tripped backward, nearly crashing to the floor.
Damn it—
if
she didn’t stop thinking of Jess, she was going to hurt herself! Commanding her body back into a straight line, she tried again. Breathe, she demanded.
Calm your energy
. But as she did so, her mind filled with images of Jess.
A tearful, hesitant Jess. The kid was afraid. Helping raise her from damn near birth, Sam knew the girl inside out. Jess was spunky and smart and full of life, but she was also sensitive. Growing up, it had always been she who was the first to cry, the first to lock herself in her room. Her feelings were always the first to be dinged and the last to heal. Being faced with an unexpected pregnancy had to be tough on her.
Once Luke found out there was another guy in the picture, he’d be heartbroken. Dating Jess for a year now, this would hurt him.
Unfortunately, when the spider of truth came biting, it didn’t care how you ended up in its web, only that you were there. What goes around comes around. It was Universal Law. You reap what you sow. While she didn’t like the idea of hearts breaking, she felt a strong commitment to honesty. If a person didn’t have their word, if they couldn’t own their truth, what did they have?
Nothing but a façade, a shell of lies built to hide their fears. Sam sucked in another breath, but spit it out with a jagged sigh. She allowed her arms to fall and her spirits plummeted. She was in no mood to continue. Her mind wasn’t in it. Her heart wasn’t in it. Both were down the hall, curled up at the end of her sister’s bed, waiting for an invitation to talk.
Her heart winced. One she feared wouldn’t come. Not anytime soon, anyway. Exhausted, she took a deep breath and ratcheted down the pummeling in her chest to a more tolerable level. Easing bare feet apart, she set her palms on the floor and began her stretch.
Poor Jess
. You can’t hide from yourself. You can’t escape your past. You have to live with yourself until the day you die. Choices squared with lessons. Hopefully, you make the right ones and if not, learn from the wrong ones.
And I’ll help you, punk
.
Anyway I can, I’ll help you
.
Sam held the stance for several moments, then grasped elbows and hung, lengthening further into the pose. Her thoughts drifted to Vic. She didn’t like the way he was so hung-up on this Scaliano. Sure he was the CEO and bore responsibility for what happened on company premises, but Vic kept making a personal connection. As though the man had stood over Mr. Albright as he lay dying and blocked anyone from coming to his aid.
An assertion the facts didn’t sustain.
Lifting up until her back ran parallel to the floor, Sam extended her arms out in front of her as far as she could, closed her eyes, and asked herself why. Why did Vic insist on nailing the top man? Was he looking for headlines? A trophy for his collection?
It didn’t make sense. Make your kill, quick and clean. You score, you win, and then you move on. Getting tangled in the emotions of your case was a trap best avoided. Clasping hands behind her back, Sam maintained her bent position and reached backward, recalling Vic’s comment about her attachment to Mrs. Albright. He was right. It wasn’t usual for attorneys to hug their clients, and she could understand how he might think she was blurring the line between business and personal. But she wasn’t. Far from it. She pulled further into her stretch. Business was business and she knew the difference. Her job was to punish the bad guys.
Raising her frame to its full height, Sam reached for the ceiling. And personal was personal. She connected with people. Clients weren’t numbers. They weren’t totals in a ledger of profit. They were people; people with problems in need of solutions which is how they ended up on her front step in the first place.
Sam lowered into a lunge and loosened the muscles in her inner thighs and hips, culling over the possibilities. One thing was certain. She didn’t just roll off the mango truck. Vic had an agenda. What—she didn’t know, but it was there. Did Vic know something she didn’t?
Chapter Sixteen
“I don’t get it,” Vic muttered, staring at his expert witness through the one-way glass partition that separated him and the mock courtroom set up within the offices of Baker, Schofield. The room was an instrumental tool used to prepare witnesses for trial by giving them a sense of what it would like when they took the stand, the types of questions he would receive, the kind of pressure he may feel…
Sam and Diego stood by his side and watched as an in-house attorney inside the room made notations on Dr. Pope’s testimony while another reeled off questions.
“The man has experience,” Vic insisted, though Sam could hear the doubt creeping into his voice. “He’s got the know-how. He’s spent plenty of time in front of Congress on this very subject.”
That may be, Sam mused, but the good doctor was clearly showing signs of wear. The day’s practice session had stolen much of his earlier vigor and he was fading fast.
“Making prepared statements to a panel of sympathetic ears is a lot different than defending your position against a hostile cross-examination,” Diego challenged. “If he doesn’t toughen up, he’s not going anywhere near the stand.”
The comment echoed her disappointment. The man had crumbled. Too idealistic, too innocent, opposing counsel would eat him alive. If her team couldn’t coach him to recognize the tactics being used against him, Dr. Pope would end up looking like “Dr. Dope.”
“I can fix it.” Vic looked directly at Sam, appealing for an extension. “I’ll make sure he’s ready to handle whatever they throw at him.”
“You need to watch that.”
Sam’s gaze riveted to Diego.
“Every word you communicate to him might be discoverable.”
“I’m not some first-year hack,” Vic shot back. “I know what’s at stake.”
Sam shifted her attention between the two and noted Vic was not wielding his usual self-control this morning. He seemed worked up, agitated.
“I’m not trying to insult you, man,” Diego retreated. “I know you know what you’re doing. I’m just saying we need to be careful how we proceed.”
Vic glared through the partition, his black brows converging into a tight knot. “The man is good. He knows his stuff.”
It was one thing to have control of the facts, Sam thought, but quite another to spit them out under pressure. She eyed the doctor. Although he was surrounded by allies and knew this setup was only practice, the man seemed shaken, unsure of himself.
She returned her attention to Vic. And he was feeling the stress. Understandable, but unacceptable. Sam ex-pelled her breath and rose in one swift motion. “I’m through here.”
Both men looked up in surprise. Vic’s expression grew tight while Diego simply lifted up from his seat and asked, “Where do you want to go from here?”
“Let’s see what Dr. Herrera has to say this afternoon.” He was scheduled to undergo the same question and answer session that Dr. Pope had just endured.
And failed, in her opinion. “Until then, I’ll make some phone calls and see what else we can come up with in the way of expert testimony,” she said. “In case Vic’s key witness evaporates before our very eyes.”
Vic’s expression registered the hit.
Sam hadn’t meant to be so nasty, but damn it if she didn’t feel the pressure, too. This was her case, not his. She was the one with a personal stake in the outcome, not him.
He was merely here at her discretion.
Vic must have sensed it, because a wave of humility swept his features. “Dr. Pope will come through, Sam.” His voice was quiet, his demeanor calm. “I’ll help him sort through the garbage and keep his objectives clear.”
“You do that.” She turned to take her leave. “But I still intend to find a better option.”
Sam returned to her office, breezing by Maria without a word.
“You got a minute?”
She stopped short, startled by the sound of Vic’s voice, and turned. She offered a small smile, despite the ambivalence sloshing through her belly. “Of course. Come in.”
Snaking hands into his pockets, Vic hooked his gaze onto hers and said, “I came to apologize for the other day.”
Sam tensed.
“I was out of line. I overstepped my boundary and said some things I shouldn’t have.”
She nodded. The scene in front of Diego came barreling to the forefront of her mind. “You did.”
“I feel strongly about this case and...” He shrugged, but didn’t pursue further explanation. None was necessary. “It got the better of me, I guess. But I assure you, it won’t happen again.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” she said, more interested in what he
wasn’t
saying at the moment. Like what drove him, what incited such a vigorous attack in the first place? But this wasn’t the time. “I understand your enthusiasm and I appreciate it. Our client needs a passionate defense.”
“She has one,” he said, and pushed back his shoulders.
“But it must be a focused defense. Dedicated to her needs and wants and not distracted by competing issues.”
“Mrs. Albright couldn’t ask for a more dedicated team. I am one hundred percent committed to this case and to seeing justice is served.”
“I believe you,” she said, touched by his genuine sense of protection.
“But you’re in charge. And though it seemed like I lost sight of that fact—I haven’t. Insubordination doesn’t fly with me on any level or from anyone, including myself.”
Sam’s insides went soft. God, he was so
endearing
, the way his staunch defense melted into chivalrous grace. His frank recognition of fault was disarming—
shocking
, even. She could count the number of men she knew on one hand willing to admit culpability, but to admit it without the slightest reservation and with complete humility was almost unheard of.
Until now.
Here stood a lot of man. Tough on the outside, tender on the inside, Vic had shown himself to be smart and passionate, strong and sensitive. She may not know his whole story, but she liked what she did know. “That’s quite an admission,” she said, and tried to stem a surge of fresh personal desire. “And I appreciate it. It’s too seldom people acknowledge their mistakes.”
“You deserve better, Sam. You gave me a chance. The last thing you need is for me to spit it back in your face.”
She wrinkled her nose at the imagery.
Vic smiled, the first since he entered her office. “A little crude, I know, but it’s how I feel. I have a lot of respect for you and...” A tinge of embarrassment colored his tone as he added, “Well, I just wanted you to know.”
“Likewise,” she replied and if she had been sitting any place but here, she would have walked over to him, taken his face in her hands, and kissed him. But the confines of their professional space would not allow it, so she went with the next best thing. “Let’s say we do dinner this weekend.”
Vic’s face relaxed into a naughty grin. “Let’s.”
# # #
“I want you to do a little digging for me,” Sam said, rigid and uncomfortable as she sat behind her desk.
Notepad in hand, Maria was comfortably situated across from her, dark hair swept back high behind her head, her suit today a subtle, smoldering gray lavender. “Okay,” she replied. “What are we looking for?”
Sam smiled. That was the tricky part. “I’m not sure.”
Maria’s brow rose in question.
“I want you to find out everything there is to know about one Frank Scaliano, current Commander-in-Chief of Perry Fitness.” Her secretary scribbled feverishly as Sam spoke. “Where he was before Perry, any prior lawsuits or complaints against him, his reputation among co-workers, the industry in general—I want the works.”
Maria glanced up as she wrote. “Are we looking for anything in particular?”
“Not necessarily. I want it all.” Her gaze drifted to her wall of diplomas, her awards, the paper and frames that underscored her ability as a skilled attorney; an ability she prided herself on. Once Maria collected the information, she could sift through it and see if anything jumped out at her. Because as sure as she was sitting here, she knew there was a layer to this case she had yet to peel, yet to undercover and by God she would. She’d get to the bare bottom of this case, expose every negligent detail before all was said and done if it was the last thing she did.