Risking Ruin (13 page)

“That is what we don’t know.  This really could mean nothing, but I’m intrigued by our initial research.  I’ve prepared these binders,” she replied, waiving her hand toward the binder that sat in front of Jimmy.  “Dossiers of each of the plaintiffs are included in each binder.  I’ve set out as much background information as we have on each of them.  I’m happy to walk through them plaintiff by plaintiff, or you can review it on your own and let me know what questions you have later.”

“No thank you.  I appreciate your executive summary, Marisa.  Time is money.   I don’t make money being involved in lawsuits.  I only lose money.  What is your recommendation here?”

Trip jumped into the conversation.  “Wait.  Before we get there, I have questions.  How did you uncover this?  What are the consequences, if this is a conspiracy?”

“Trip,” Jimmy stated sternly.  “I’ve got a dinner meeting out in Germantown in forty-five minutes and I need to leave the office in ten minutes.”  Trip leaned back in his chair and Jimmy continued.  “Marisa, do you mind telling me what your recommendation is, and then I’ll leave Trip to get details.   He can bring me up to speed later.”

“Sure,” replied Marisa, feeling slightly out of place at witnessing some of the father-son dynamic.  “We don’t normally hire private investigators, but I believe it would be valuable to have a private investigator dig in here.  Specifically, I’d like to know who is attending by getting some pictures of folks coming and going from the meeting.  Then, I’d like to insert a mole.  The meeting isn’t closed.  It’s just some divorced women support group at a Methodist Church in East Memphis.   The group meets on Tuesdays and Saturdays.   I’d like to jump on this while it is hot, which is why I wanted to get your direction today.  I’m pretty sure we can get someone inside who might be able to gather information or even get some useful audio recordings, if we’re extremely lucky.”

Jimmy nodded.  Marisa continued.

“The specific PI I’d recommend hiring is Vanessa Hodgkin.  She’s done some work for our other clients in personal injury cases.  The reviews from the other attorneys in my firm is favorable.  She’s a woman, which is an absolute requirement here, and has a great track record of getting useful things on tape.  For example, she worked a really bad car wreck case where the plaintiff alleged a very serious back injury.  Vanessa was able to get video of him loading up cases of beer into the trunk of his car two weeks before the trial.   One of my partners reported that the jury ate it up, as you can imagine.”

“Okay, I’m sold, but what’s this going to cost us?”

“In the back of the binder, I’ve prepared a memorandum for you setting out why I think taking this step here is important.  That memo includes Vanessa’s resume and rate structure.  I was able to negotiate a discount of fifteen percent for this, which is reflected in the rates quoted here.  We got the discount mainly because we can give her the time and location where we expect at least some of our plaintiffs to be.  They should be sitting ducks for her.

“Also, Vanessa told me that she went through a divorce about five years ago and is confident that she’ll be able to blend into the meeting easily.  So we can confirm who is attending, she’ll cover two meetings and attempt to photograph or video the other attendees coming or going.  At that point, we can revaluate whether further work would be helpful or not.”

“Sounds great, but how much is that going to cost?,” repeated Jimmy.

“She estimates two thousand dollars, including prep time and the compiling of a report.”

“Do it,” said Jimmy, picking up the binder and rising to leave.  “Trip, let me know what else you learn from Marisa and if I need to be personally involved.  Otherwise, you’re the General Counsel now, so this is your show to run.  Excuse me, but I’ve got to go.”  And with that, Trip and Marisa were alone at the small conference table.

A few minutes passed before Trip broke the silence.   Marisa could feel the electricity building between them.  Being near Trip just made her want to touch him, and even the idea of touching him made her want to be naked with him.

“Okay, you’ve got to tell me how you uncovered this strange connection.  However, you’re going to tell me over dinner.  I’m not going to sit here and listen to your stomach growl anymore.”

As if on cue, Marisa’s stomach roared.  Marisa’s eyes widened and she was a little horrified. 
I should have just grabbed a granola bar from the vending machine at some point today
, she thought.

“Your stomach has growled four times since my father mentioned his dinner meeting.  Anything specific we need in the binders or can you just talk through it without them?”

“I don’t need the binders,” Marisa replied in a pleasant tone.   Internally she bristled slightly. 
Glad to know my last seven hours are really being appreciated here.

“You must be hungry because you didn’t put up a fight about dinner,” Trip noted before leaning his head closer to Marisa and whispering, “Now, I just have to figure out what you’re hungry for.”

Chapter Twenty-one

“Come on, let’s go get you fed.  Leave your binder and things.   I’ll have it delivered to your office in the morning.   And your friend the sweater, let’s leave her, too.”

Marisa nervously laughed.  She wasn’t expecting Trip to be so forward.

“If you were wondering, Jenny leaves promptly at 5:45 each day.” 
Fine.
If he wants to play more, then I’m game as long as we can keep this under the radar.

Marisa dutifully moved her left hand to the top of the black crewneck cardigan.  She leisurely fingered the small black button that sat at her clavicle.  She gradually reached her right hand up to join and she could feel Trip lean in closer, completely enthralled by Marisa’s fingers stroking the button.   Marisa savored the rapt attention.  She stroked the back of her left hand with her right and trailed it down toward her elbow, dragging the sweater’s sleeve with her hand to reveal the lapis bracelet.

Trip wore a mischievous and delighted grin.

“Nuh nuh,” said Marisa coyly, shaking her head slowly.  “Like me, like my friends.  Sweater goes with us.”  Trip chuckled with glee.

“Fine, sweater can come,” he relented.  His smile overtook his entire face and he stood up from the conference table.

Marisa also stood and began walking toward the door.   “I wouldn’t worry too much about her.  She’s has a bad habit of leaving a party early.”

They found Trip’s car in the garage and hopped in.  Marisa was becoming more comfortable with Trip opening doors for her, but it was definitely different from Paul, Ryan, or any other man that she could recall.

“Trip, I may be misremembering things, but didn’t you leave your car at the curb in front of my building last night?”

“I did.”

“You were lucky it wasn’t stolen.  It had to be a pain to track down where it was towed this morning.”

“George got it for me.  I told your doorman someone would be round for it shortly and texted George in the elevator.”

“Huh,” replied Marisa. 
Trip does live in a totally different world from me.
  “So, how did you get home this morning? George again?”

“Yeah,” said Trip, surprised by her question.

He might have well said “duh.”  Now I feel stupid.  Even if George hadn’t seen our shenanigans in the car, picking up a bed-tousled Trip this morning certainly clued him in. 
Marisa racked her brain trying to remember if George had ever picked her up or dropped her off at home.  She couldn’t recall that happening.  She’d done the walk of shame home from that night at Trip’s and since then, Trip had driven. 
Whew
. 
George doesn’t know where I live.
  
He doesn’t know it’s me.
  Then it hit her.  Hard.  Her mood darkened and she began to feel panicky.  When she and Trip had driven by her building on the way to his house that night, she’d made a fuss about George driving past her place, not realizing they were headed to Trip’s instead. 
Oh, fuck me.  George knows.  Or even if he doesn’t, then it’s only going to take the slightest clue for him to figure it out and then he’ll tell Jimmy and then I’ll get fired as Branco’s lawyer and then my law partners will find out and I’ll be out on the street . . .

“Hey, Marisa.  Come back to me,” said Trip.

Marisa turned from the passenger window to face him.  “Where’d you go?,” asked Trip.

“Just thinking about the thousands of reasons this is a really bad idea.”

“You aren’t thinking straight.  You need some food.”

“I
am
thinking straight.”

“I’m not going to talk about this with you anymore until you’ve got food in your belly,” he said with finality.  “Anyway, food is a mere minutes away.  Just hold that thought.”  Trip turned into a parking spot and cut the car’s engine.  “Let’s go get you fed.”

They walked across the street to Earnestine and Hazel’s. 
He’s brought me to a dive bar for burgers? 
Ever the gentleman, Trip heaved open the beat up old blue metal and glass door.  The smell of stale beer and grilled burgers rushed toward Marisa.  Soul music wafted out with the aromas.  
Guess this dress is headed to the cleaners first thing in the morning
.

“Yeah, I know you’re probably thinking ‘Earnestine and Hazel’s on a Monday at six?’  But their burgers are a guilty pleasure of mine and I thought I’d indulge in two such guilty pleasures at once.  Plus, it’s not exactly party hour now, so it’s as quiet as this place gets.  I thought it would be easy to snag a table and talk or not talk or whatever you’re up for without too many eyes being around.”

Okay, well this makes sense now.  It’s not like we can to go to Restaurant Iris or Folk’s Folly on a Monday night without probably running into someone one of us knows.  Most likely someone he knows or who knows him, but either way, it might lead to gossip. So, we get to skulk around town at dive bars until he’s tired of me?  Excellent decision making, Marisa.  Maybe Erica’s right and I should try Match.com.

Trip led them to a small heavily scarred wooden table with simple bent wood chairs that had seen much better days.  They sat.  When the waitress arrived at the table, Trip ordered a Ghost River Ale.  Marisa desperately wanted a beer, too, but she stuck with water.  They both ordered burgers and potato chips – two of the approximately four food items on the bar’s menu.  
No more drinking around him.  I can’t control myself.

Trip kept the conversation minimal until the food arrived, which was fine by Marisa.  She filled the void by letting her eyes wander around the walls.  Graffiti, peeling paint, fractured plaster walls, exposed brick, and a massive old jukebox.  Marisa had never been in the bar during daylight hours and, truth be known, she wasn’t sure she’d been there sober either.  She took a bite of her burger and ate a few chips, still immersed entirely in her own head.  A few minutes later she felt better.   She placed her burger in the basket lined with waxed paper and looked up at Trip.

“Sorry I was a grouch.  You were right.  I’d missed lunch and was starving.”

Trip opened his mouth, popped in a potato chip, closed his mouth, and smugly grinned.  He quickly chewed and swallowed.  “And I bet you didn’t have the most nutritious breakfast either.”

“It was certainly delicious, but you’re right.  I usually have granola and yogurt with my coffee instead of pecan pie.”

“Duly noted.  Please, keep eating,” he said, waving his hand toward the burger basket.

Marisa finished her dinner and dropped a few crumpled paper napkins into the basket. 

“All better now?,” Trip asked.

“Yes. Thank you.   Okay, let’s get down to business.  You asked how we found out about the divorce support group.   We’d done background checks on the plaintiffs as usual and discovered they were all divorced.   As I told you and your dad earlier, that’s nothing to set of any alarm bells, but it was curious that they were all involved in divorces in the past year or so.

“Then Jane, my assistant, remembered one of the women testified in her deposition that was in a support group at a church in East Memphis.  Jane also piece together that two of the other women testified they went to a divorce support group, but didn’t provide any more detail.  Jane got curious and decided to go to the support group on Saturday afternoon.  She posed as a divorcée named ‘June’ and recognized a few other names of the plaintiffs.  She says it’s like AA, so it was first names only, but again, the level of coincidence to be in a support group with many of the members having the same names of the other plaintiffs is too much to be simply coincidence in my opinion.  We’ll know more once Vanessa gets involved, but it’s really intriguing.”

“What does this mean?  Are they conspiring against Branco?  Why would they do that?”

Marisa looked away from Trip.  She felt her resolve softening yet again.  It was so easy to talk with him.  He just felt comfortable, except when she looked at him and his good looks sent her hormones surging.

“I don’t know.  It could be some payback for some perceived slight by Branco or someone at Branco.  It’s really weird.  They all have different attorneys, so it would really blow my mind if their attorneys were somehow involved.  Too many people don’t typically make a good conspiracy – someone talks.” 

Marisa grew quiet and looked up at the ceiling, puzzling the oddness of members of a divorcée support group deciding to sue Branco. As Marisa drifted off in thought, Trip pulled her back.

“Now that the business portion of the evening is over, is your friend sweater still going to hang around?”

Marisa’s eyes fell back on Trip who was rakishly waggling his eyebrows at her.  She blushed and shook her head, forcing back a giggle. 
He’s too much.

“Trip,” Marisa began.

“Don’t.  I know that tone.  Please don’t,” he pleaded.  “Can we just enjoy this?  When I said no sex, I meant it.  We can have even less no sex that we did last night.”  At the mention of last night, Marisa’s blood pressure rose and she grew warm all over. 

“We’ll play this how you want, but please don’t pull the plug just yet,” he said, reaching across the table and covering her left hand his with his right.  His fingertips traced the bracelet he had given her.  Marisa was surprised Trip had accurately anticipated the course of her thoughts.

“Trip, I’m just confused.”  She fumbled for words but found none.  Her mind was such a muddle when it came to this man that she couldn’t figure out which direction was up much less which direction she should be heading.

“Just a little time.  We’ll figure it out.  Just a little time, please.”

“I’m just worried that I won’t be able to do it.”

“Won’t be able to do what, Marisa?,” he asked intently.

Marisa sighed.  In a span of a second she decided to be honest with herself and Trip.  “Won’t be able to do the no-sex thing.  And even if we can successfully not have sex, that can’t last forever.  Plus, I’m absolutely terrified that your dad or someone else will find out.   I think that George knows.”

Trip harrumphed and sandwiched Marisa’s left hand between both of his powerful hands.  “George does his job well.  He’s been with my family for years.  He taught me how to drive when I was home from Andover on breaks.  He’s kept secrets for me that are much significant than me liking a lovely woman.  That is a non-issue and a lame excuse to end this before we really get started.”

“We’ve covered this ground as to why we shouldn’t be involved.   That is a real issue.”

“I know and we’ve pieced together a solution for now.  Let’s give it time.  Give us time.”

Marisa drew breath in.
Us?  He said us? 
She could only nod in response.

“And I promise that I won’t kiss you at work again.  That was reckless of me.  I’ll be more circumspect.  But you have to promise me that you won’t turn up in my office in those shoes and that dress again.  You’re just too tempting.”

The gentle pressure of his hands encasing her hand touched her deeply and she felt treasured. 
I like him.  I like him more than anyone I’ve met since Paul.  Hell, maybe I like him more than I ever liked Paul. I don’t know.  The only thing I know is that it feels so good being with him.  Oh, what the hell.
She tingled with anticipation of what would come next and how Trip would react.  Using her right hand, she reached up and began single-handedly unbuttoning her cardigan.