Shut Off (Just This Once #3) (4 page)

“I know. That’s what worries me. Maybe he’s just after the chase.”

“Well, in nine days when this is all over, you’ll know what it is—if it was just a booty call under extenuating circumstances or if it’s something more. I think it’s pretty obvious, but hey, what do I know? I’m 41, single, no kids, and still looking for Prince Charming.”

I felt for Kerri. It was hard not to look at her with eyes full of pity, but that’s what I felt when I watched her continue eating as if she hadn’t just said the saddest thing I’d heard in a while. I could never figure out why she was still single. Yes, she was a little older now, but she still looked beautiful, and I was sure that she looked even better when she was younger. So, what happened?

Maybe she was a workaholic, too. Perhaps she spent so long trying to make it up the ladder that she forgot to live her life outside of work. She sure was making up for it now, and not that it
was
too late for her, but I could see that it wasn’t that easy. Especially in a place like Vegas where all men cared about were bouncy boobs and zero body fat.

Joel used to be that guy. I think that’s what made it harder to let myself completely fall for him. I wasn’t obese or anything, but I wasn’t a health nut either, and the boob department wasn’t my selling feature. That, coupled with the fact that I didn’t run in the same circles or have heaps of money, made me question even more what he wanted with me.

Chapter Three

Joel

“Melanie, can you get me a coffee, please?” I spoke down into the speakerphone.

“Yes, Mr. Trevaunt.”

Since I’d been back, no one had mentioned what they all heard and some imagined to be true. I knew by the way my employees looked at me in elevators and during meetings, how they passed me in the lobby—no one knew how to act around me now that I was being accused of hitting a woman.

Every day I struggled with getting out of the house, knowing what my new company—the one that a little over a month ago belonged to my father—thought of me. They didn’t know whether to act as if nothing happened or if by working alongside me, they were silently accepting the behavior of a monster. HR hadn’t reported any resignations yet, but I wasn’t sure how long that would last, especially after the trial.

I thought about the phone call I was expecting from my lawyer. I wasn’t even sure there was anything to talk about. At this point, it was Lara’s word against mine, and I’d seen the photographs. All most people would need is one look at those pictures to get it in their head that I’d done that to her.

I’d never hit a girl in my life. Sure, I’d kicked the shit out of a few drunken frat guys, but never a girl. Never. Lara knew this. Knew I would never hurt her. So why she was doing this, I couldn’t understand. Maybe how I broke up with her was awful and maybe she wasn’t expecting it—especially days after my father’s death—but I couldn’t let her use my father’s funeral as a stepping-stone to further her social status. Breaking up with her was the last good thing I could do for my dad.

I should have ended things when he was alive.

The doors to my office swung open with Melanie holding a mug of coffee in one hand and a black folder in the other.

“Here’s your coffee, Mr. Trevaunt,” she said sliding the mug onto the corner of my desk. My assistant had always been a little timid, but now she treated me like I was a venomous snake about to strike. “Here is your agenda for the day. Franklin had to reschedule so I moved your 2 p.m. phone call to 3 p.m. and bumped your other meetings to tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Melanie.”

“You’re welcome. Do you need anything else?”

I shook my head no and watched her speed-walk in high heels across the plush carpet, hoping like hell she wouldn’t twist her ankle and be out on medical leave for the next few weeks.
That would be my luck
.

Right on time, the phone rang.

“Groves, good morning.”

“Mr. Trevaunt, how are you?”

“I’d be better if you told me it’s all over and I can resume my life before this circus comes to town.”

“I wish that were the case. You know, Joel, it’s not too late to settle.”

“I’m not settling with that monster. Do you know the looks I’m getting right now? If I settle, that’s like saying I did it!”

“Not necessarily. That’s saying you’re a busy man and don’t want to drag this out and possibly ruin your career or your father’s legacy.”

My elbow rested on my desk, propping my head up with my fist.

After over a year of dating, I honestly couldn’t say I ever really knew Lara, but I couldn’t believe she would do this. Not after everything.

The girl I met that day at Citizens was amenable, laughed at my silliness, gave as good as she got in the flirting department, and was happy. That’s why I gave her my card. I thought I saw a kindred spirit in her. What I didn’t realize was Lara was a chameleon—changing who she was depending on the circumstances and who was around, becoming whoever she needed to be to climb the social ladder.

“You’ll need to do your deposition this week. I’ll be meeting with Ms. Farrows on Friday. How about you come in tomorrow and we’ll do a run-through of questions, and I’ll schedule your deposition for later this week?”

“That’s fine. Did you get a chance to look into the video feed at the condo?”

“Yes. There’s nothing there we can use. She left your condo with her head down, and the guard that was on duty no longer works there. I’m still working on tracking him down. He might be of some help.”

“All right. Let me know if you find anything. What time tomorrow should I be there?”

“Does 9 a.m. work?”

“That’s fine.”

“It’s almost over, Joel. Hang in there.”

“Thanks, Groves.”

I hung up the phone and thought about my case. We were riding on that fucking
video
, and without it, I wasn’t sure I had a winning case. It was starting to look like Lara would win. I couldn’t let that happen. I just didn’t know how to stop it. Blaire hadn’t said it, but if I lost this case, it was a sure thing that I’d lose Blaire, too, and I wasn’t ready to let her go. Not yet.

When I went to the club that night, I wasn’t looking for anyone. I just needed to escape. I’d been cooped up in my house for over a week and needed a break from my own thoughts that mocked my every decision when it came to Lara—every time I took her out, every time I bought her something I knew she couldn’t afford, every time she left me to go “mingle,” every time I let her think that we were or could be more than what we were.

And then there was Blaire. I watched her twirl on the dance floor with a smile that lit up the room. Watching her was the first time I forgot about all of my problems—the reason why I was alone, the reason I sat with my head down hoping no one would notice me.

I shot back the rest of the cold whiskey, forgetting all about my legal troubles when I made the decision to approach her. Except when I looked back to the dance floor, she was gone. Jumping up from my stool, I shot across the room looking for her in the flood of people milling about. I knew I was drawing attention to myself just in the frantic way I looked for her. It was the exact opposite of what I wanted when I left the house that night, but I couldn’t let her leave without at least getting her name.

Every face that passed me taunted me with the memory of that smile of hers. She sparked this feeling in me I’d never felt before, and I just wanted to get closer to see if what I felt was real or another symptom of cabin fever. I was outside of the restroom still looking for her when she exited, and it was like seeing a long lost friend. A smile broke my face as she walked down the shortened hallway. I had to stop myself from laughing when she looked at me and then looked back in the direction of the restrooms as if she wasn’t sure
who
I was smiling at.

I never thought she would leave with me, and when she stopped to talk to her friends, I was sure one of them would recognize me and my night would be ruined, but I was in luck.

We had only spent such a short time together, and I wasn’t ready for it to be over. I couldn’t be sure if it was my newfound loneliness that drew me to her, or if she was literally the best, most decent and honest person I’d ever met, but I wanted to keep her.

That was going to be damn difficult to do if I lost this case. Not that she believed me to be a woman-beater, but what would her friends and colleagues say if she showed up to office parties with me on her arm?
Because that’s what I wanted.
I didn’t want to be her secret—something to be tucked away and hidden from everyone she knew. For the first time in my life, I was finding I wanted everything with Blaire. Which meant I had zero percent chance of failure. I wasn’t going to let her slip away, not after all the work I put in getting her back.

***

I was back at my lawyer’s office sitting in an office that smelled of leather and Pine-Sol. Mahogany wood bookshelves lined the wall, and across from his desk was a large conference table in the same red wood that lined the room. His office looked like what you’d imagine a lawyer’s office to look like: very masculine, with degrees on the walls, and a picture on his desk of a younger wife with a child.

We sat down at the conference table where a pitcher of water and glasses were already set up. I wasn’t nervous about my deposition because I had nothing to lie about, but something about the setting made me uncomfortable. Immediately, I wanted to pour myself a glass of water to eliminate my sudden cottonmouth.

“I’ve already scheduled the meeting for Thursday. It will be here at 2 p.m., but we need to go over some things before your deposition.”

“OK,” I croaked. That glass of water mocked me as I lost control of my voice, replying with a sound I’d never heard escape my mouth.

“You want to make sure you remain calm and you answer every question as truthfully as possible. If you don’t remember, just say you don’t know. It’s better than lying. Do not volunteer any information. Only answer the questions they ask. These things can make the most confident person nervous. Just try to remain relaxed, but don’t let your guard down. They may appear friendly, but their main objective is to trip you up to make this case easier for them. Take your time answering the questions and you should be good. Understand?”

I swallowed thickly, feeling the heaviness of my
adam’s
apple bob in understanding.

“Yes,” I finally replied as I reached for the pitcher and glass.

“Here, let me,” he said grabbing the pitcher and glass. I wished I could blame my need for water on the sweltering heat outside, but the room felt ice cold, making the sweat lining my palms all the more apparent.

“Thanks.”

“We’re going to beat this, Joel. It will be hard for her to keep up with her lies, so I have no doubt we’ll win this thing. That’s why you hired me.”

If only I had the same amount of enthusiasm for us winning. I was too busy worrying about what I had to lose and what she had to gain—which was a lot, for both of us.

Jerry stood up, pulling his blazer off and tossing it across the back of the chair before tucking his hands in his pockets and strolling across the room. I knew what he was doing. He was trying to act casual to show me how the other lawyer would act like it was no big deal. That was his version of “good cop.”

“It’s been really hot lately,” he said, fanning
himself
. I offered a cool smile and took another sip of water, waiting for him to jump right in with the questioning.

“Today is a good day for a burger. I was thinking of going to Citizens. You
ever been
there?”

“I’m sorry, was that a question?”

“Yes.”

“Then, yes.”

“Good job, Joel. Just like I said, no more information than what they specifically ask for.”

Jerry worked through a few factual questions that required no more than a “yes” or “no” before he started hitting me with the questions that I expected, yet still had me gritting my teeth in anger at the insinuation.

“You’re a member at a
CrossFit
gym here in Las Vegas, yes?”

“Yes.”

“And before that, you practiced boxing at another local gym?”

“Yes, and?” I said, not liking his line of questioning.

“Was it common for you to lose any of these matches?”

“No.”

“Were these men or women?”

“Men, of course.”

“And they were about your size, would you say?”

“Yes.”

“So then, you’re comfortable fighting?”

“How am I supposed to answer that?” I yelled, throwing my hands up in anger. “If I say yes, I sound like I like fighting, and if I say no, I’m lying.”

“That’s going to be their angle. They want you to feel flustered and caught off guard. Just be honest. In those types of questions, you need to say things like you feel comfortable defending or protecting yourself, which is the purpose of your training. You want to sound like you’re on the defense, not like you go out looking for a fight.”

After an hour spent being drilled, I felt comfortable in what to expect from her lawyer, but I still wasn’t assured that this would go well for me. How was I not supposed to get riled up by being accused of being a woman-beater?

Chapter Four

Blaire