Unchained Memories (2 page)

As Charlotte tamped down the havoc he caused by stirring up old memories, Clay followed up with polite chitchat. “So you lived in San Francisco. How’d you like the West Coast?”

“It’s nice. Better weather, at least during the winter. And I love living in a city. There’s so much more to do compared to living in a small town.”

“Ouch. I guess we Princetonians are a dull lot compared to San Franciscans.”

She shook her head at her unintended slur. “You have New York and Philadelphia close by. I’m sure you’re not dull.” He would never be dull in her mind. “Since I’ll be here for a while, I’ll give you a comparison report before I leave.”

“You’re on.” He sipped his drink. “Was it hard to find a job since you’re only here temporarily?”

“It’s odd how things work out. My parents’ former partner had been trying to entice me back to Princeton even before Jason died. Once I decided to stay longer than anticipated, I called him and accepted the offer he had left open.”

“What firm is it?”

“Cooper, Smith & Bartlett.” Charlotte kept to herself the fact one of the firm’s specialties, her specialty, was medical malpractice.

She studied his face for any telltale sign of name recognition, but there seemed to be none. Thank God. She hadn’t wanted him to walk away in disgust so soon after this fortuitous meeting.

She steered the conversation away from the subject of work and into other less controversial areas.

As they talked, Charlotte watched Clay’s lips, his eyes, his hands. She knew them. She’d studied them in the past. No ring encircled his finger. By Annie’s account, he wasn’t married and her heart beat a little faster at the thought. Ridiculous.

Just as she was relaxing into the conversation, a high-pitched squeal from the microphone told them the program was about to begin.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.” The chairwoman’s voice rose above the crowd, trying to get everyone’s attention.

“We’d better sit down,” said Charlotte, disappointment and relief vying for her consideration.

Clay nodded. “Where are you sitting?”

She pointed in the direction of her table and he escorted her, his hand on the small of her back, sending electricity to places better left alone. This was crazy. He pulled her chair out and she eased into it, feeling the stares of not only Annie but the other women at the table.

He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “I’ll look for you after dinner.”

Time stopped, the surrounding din ceased, and Charlotte saw only him as his fingers glanced over her shoulder. Delicious.

Heat smoldered its way through her blood and she felt her face flush in frustrating betrayal. Damn it. How could these old feelings come back so easily? As if ten years hadn’t interfered with her memory?

She raised her eyes and looked directly into his, feeling the power of her adolescent yearning crashing over her like a tidal wave, leaving her weak. And vulnerable.

As he walked away, she wanted to reach out, bring him back, satisfy the void his presence had filled two seconds earlier. But all she could do was watch his broad shoulders as he walked smoothly across the floor to his table.

She ran her tongue over her suddenly dry lips then sighed.

He was clearly more than a memory.

****

Red. Hot. Sexy.

Like magnets, Clay’s eyes clicked on Charlotte, unable to repel the force holding them. Her chestnut hair was held up in a loose, sexy do that had him itching to pull the pins to release it. Her strapless dress showcased a long neck and creamy shoulders that called out to be kissed. His involuntary focus on her lovely traits throughout the evening had made him a rude dinner companion, unable to answer even the easiest of questions.

He had come here tonight to socialize with the powers that be at the hospital, to talk up the ER, to lay the groundwork for future requests. But his concentration had been directed elsewhere. Since he’d squandered his opportunity to network, he should leave. But here he was at the bar at ten-thirty, waiting for a scotch and soda. The band was heavily into their Motown set and many of the revelers packed the dance floor.

Across the room, Clay zeroed in on Charlotte talking to a group of men, her red gown like a flame in a sea of black. He smiled. She sure knew how to turn heads. His included.

But he knew her better than those clowns. He knew the sweet, tough eighteen-year-old who’d lost her parents within hours of each other. The broken girl whose emotional health had worried Dr. Collins, their chief of surgery, much more than her physical wounds.

As the band segued into a slow song, Clay covered the distance between them. “Excuse us, gentlemen, but the lady promised me a dance, and I’d like to claim it now.” He deposited his drink on an empty table and guided her toward the dance floor.

“I don’t recall promising you a dance.” Her beautiful face held the hint of a smile.

“You don’t? I must have dreamed it.”

He pulled her into his embrace, and moved with the music around the floor, feeling like one of the luckiest men there. Although she hadn’t promised anything, she glided around the room, following his lead. Her perfume intoxicated him more than any drink ever could, and the movement of her graceful body against his had his heart palpitating.

Little Charley Taylor had certainly grown up, and he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to know her now. As an adult. Ten years removed from the time their lives had intersected.

He called on his memory, pulling up their very last encounter.

“I’m leaving for college today.” She stood tentatively in his office doorway, her crystal blue eyes so expressive in their sadness. “I wanted to thank you for all your help, especially with physics and calculus. I never would have done so well without...you.” She avoided his eyes as her voice trailed off, choked with tears.

His heart constricted, startling him. He hadn’t anticipated the day she would no longer be around; trailing him at the hospital, asking incessant questions, teasing him for being so serious. His life was on overload with his internship, not allowing him to realize the time he dedicated to her was not just tolerated, but treasured.

He walked around the desk, intending to give her a friendly hug, but when he took her in his arms something changed. Her familiar flowery scent awakened his senses as if he’d been in a deep sleep and he closed his eyes to heighten the aroma. Her body fit against his like a shadow. He fought the confusing stimuli. This was Charley, his former patient and pupil. But that wasn’t who he held close, who he breathed in. When had she become more than that?

Charley hugged him hard, laughing through tears. “I hate good-byes.” Before making her escape she added, “Dr. Collins has my information at school. Call me sometime. Let me know what you’re up to.”

Clipped, hasty words said with a matter-of-factness meant to cover up the emotions she plainly felt. The same emotions that had just blind-sided him.

Then she turned and walked away, her new life ahead of her.

Clay’s lips touched Charley’s forehead as they circled the dance floor. He closed his eyes, taking in the smoothness of her skin. Before he could stop himself he asked, “How’d you like to go out to dinner one night next week?”

She pulled back to look at him, as if to gauge his sincerity, or perhaps his motives.

“I...I don’t know. Maybe.”

Disappointment moved through him. Why was she being hesitant, cool? It wasn’t as if she didn’t know him. Christ, he’d spent countless hours tutoring her. Even more time talking to her, being her friend, so she wouldn’t feel so alone.

Could a decade erase all that and make them near strangers? He didn’t think so. The second he’d realized it was her tonight, the years had melted away. They’d fallen into easy conversation. Since she was back again, why couldn’t two old friends reconnect?

In no time, the song ended and Charlotte slipped out of his arms. “Thanks for the dance. I better get back to my table and say my good-byes.”

He held onto her hand. “Don’t go.” He didn’t know what else to say. It sounded so pathetic. But he didn’t want the night to end. Confusion pulled at his brain. Why did he want her to stay? Why was she so anxious to get away from him? They’d had a nice talk earlier. All he’d done now was ask her out to dinner. But if she wasn’t interested...

She gave an apologetic smile. “Even though it’s the weekend, I have to go into the office tomorrow. Prepare for trial on Monday.”

He had to work tomorrow, too. Yet, he wasn’t letting that interfere with spending more time with her tonight.

He released her hand. It wasn’t his style to push. “It was really nice to see you again, Charley.” More than nice.

Indescribable.

“If you change your mind about dinner, give me a call. You know where to find me.” He raised her hand and kissed her fingers. “Good-bye, Charlotte.” Backing away, he headed for the door, an unfamiliar feeling of pure disappointment assaulting the pit of his stomach.

Maybe it was all for the best. He didn’t have time to rekindle an old friendship. Hah! Who was he kidding? He didn’t want to be friends with her. His forte was casual affairs with beautiful women. But that wouldn’t be right for Charley. She deserved more.

And unfortunately, he didn’t have more to give.

Chapter Two

“All rise.” The bailiff’s baritone voice heralded the judge’s entrance into the courtroom.

Charlotte stood at counsel table, her heart thudding arrhythmically, her muscles stiff. She didn’t dare look at her client, a young mother, who had, at least in this courtroom, placed her and her baby’s fate in Charlotte’s hands.

The jurors filed in, faces expressionless, refusing to look in her direction. Not a good sign. Yet, she’d proven her case with overwhelming evidence, painstakingly pieced together over the past few months. Unfortunately, you never knew what swayed the chosen eight. At least they didn’t look at defendant’s counsel either. A minor satisfaction.

She exhaled through pursed lips. She had to win. Her client’s baby had facial paralysis due to the misuse of forceps during childbirth. The infant had already undergone one surgery to repair the ocular nerves affecting her eyesight. Two more surgeries were slated during the coming year. The uninsured costs of her medical care and surgeries, not to mention the pain and suffering inflicted on this poor child and her parents, made it impossible for Charlotte not to become personally involved in this case. If she lost... She shook her head to dislodge the traitorous thought.

“Have you reached a verdict?” The judge’s simple question stopped all shuffling and the room became eerily quiet.

Charlotte wiped her palms against her suit skirt and slipped a glance toward the jury.
Please
, she prayed.

“We have,” answered the foreman.

“Did you find Dr. Robert Kingsley negligent?” asked the judge.

Charlotte squared her shoulders and forced herself to look directly at the jury foreman, keeping her swirling insides hidden beneath a steely exterior.

“Yes,” said the foreman.

As murmurs rose behind her, she unclenched her jaw, allowing the essence of success to hover near. For she hadn’t won yet.

“Was that negligence the proximate cause of the plaintiff’s injuries?” asked the judge.

The foreman hesitated and Charlotte fisted her hand so tightly her nails pierced her palm.

“Yes,” he finally answered.

Charlotte unfurled her fingers and swallowed the anxiety threatening to cut off her air supply.

“What amount of money would fairly and adequately compensate the plaintiff for her injuries?”

“Six hundred fifty thousand dollars.”

A gasp escaped her client and her arms went around Charlotte in a spontaneous hug as the extended Patterson family sent up a cheer behind them. Tension melted like an ice cube in the blazing sun, and in its place streamed the liquid thrill of victory. Charlotte smiled for the first time today.

“This court is now in recess.” The judge stood and exited the courtroom, his black robe billowing behind him.

“Thank you so much, Ms. Taylor.” Tears filled her client’s gray eyes.

“You’re welcome, Darlene. It’s no more than you and your baby deserve for the suffering you’ve been through. I’m just glad the jury agreed with us.” She hugged her in an awkward embrace, reserved for those times when a handshake just didn’t seem enough.

Darlene and her baby were two of her firm’s luckier clients. The baby’s injuries at the hands of the obstetrician would at least be lessened after several surgeries. Some people weren’t so fortunate.

A stabbing pain pierced Charlotte’s heart as it always did when she thought about her mother. Would she have succumbed to the injuries sustained in the car accident anyway, or did she die because of a medical mistake? Charlotte would never know the answer because she hadn’t pursued a lawsuit against the doctor at the time. She couldn’t. But the question would always haunt her.

Charlotte’s adversary, looking none too happy, sent her a sneer for good measure. “We’ll be appealing this,” he said before grabbing his briefcase.

“It’s your right.” Charlotte smiled, knowing he’d get nowhere with an appeal.

He strode toward the exit, his disgruntled client following in his wake.

But not even the threat of an appeal could dampen her triumph. She’d worked hard on this case, pulled it together after sleepless nights and intense days. Painstakingly culling proof that supported her client’s claim and successfully challenged the evidence threatening to undermine her case. After five anxiety-filled days of trial, the jury was unanimous. On what possible ground could he win an appeal?

Dislodging the question from her mind, she turned back toward her client, joining in the family celebration. This is what it was all about. Standing up for the injured, giving them a voice, advocating for their rights.

And in the end, making the world a safer place.

Her mother would be proud.

****

Charlotte sat in front of Brad Carlton’s desk, ready to beg, if she had to, for a case that would challenge her more than the sponge-left-in-after-surgery cases he’d been prone to give her. She’d gotten the taste of a bigger case with the Patterson trial, and she didn’t want to go backwards. She poured every ounce of determination into her voice. “I’d like to work on the Davis case with you.”