airport. Her suit screamed success.
She wished she had sweated off that ten pounds she’d gained in the last couple of years, but she was still twenty pounds lighter than she’d been when she and David lived in that godawful flat on the Lower East Side in Manhattan. These days she ran and she worked out. Her buns might not be steel exactly, but they were definitely aluminum. Her haircut had cost a packet in Beverly Hills and looked it.
She could do this. She shoved away from the wall, took a deep breath and turned around.
“How did you know it was me?” he asked.
Despite her good intentions she had to close her eyes a moment against the impact of him. Not fat and bald. Not fair.
He held out his hand. She ignored it. “You still use that expensive sandalwood soap.” She curled her lip. “No doubt you can afford it— now . I suppose you could say I smelled you.”
He nodded.
Oh, damn, damn, damn. Why did men have to get better as they aged while women got worse? He seemed even taller, although that couldn’t be. Maybe he was wearing those high-heeled cowboy boots. His shoulders seemed broader, more muscular in his plaid shirt. There was gray in his sandy hair, but while most people got dull bits of gray straggling all over, David’s lay in neat silver wings over his ears. His face was tan, his body lean and taut, and the incipient crow’s-feet around his eyes seemed like arrows pointing to the blue of his eyes.
Crazy eyes. Plenty of people wore contact lenses to turn their eyes that blue, but David had been born with them. Never saw a man with eyes that dark blue. Like the Blue Grotto in Capri or the Hope Diamond. Killer diamond. Better analogy. Definitely killer eyes.
The David she remembered was a combination of Brad Pitt and his namesake David by Michelangelo. This man was Harrison Ford and Richard Gere and Sean Connery sand...
And she hated him.
He dropped his hand as though he hadn’t really expected her to shake it.
“Are you responsible for getting me down here for your son?” she asked, waving toward the door behind which his no-doubt bewildered son still sat with his huge baby-sitter.
“Yes.”
“Oh, David, what possessed you? My Lord, even if I were F. Lee Bailey and Johnnie Cochran rolled into one I wouldn’t handle this case. And if you know enough about me to find me as Kate Mulholland, you must know I’m not a criminal litigator any longer. I don’t do murderers.”
“He’s not a murderer. He’s innocent.”
“He could be as innocent as the angels and I still wouldn’t be the right lawyer to defend him. If you’re dead set on using the firm, we’ve got a crack team of guys who will use every trick in the book to get him free. We call them ‘the murder twins.’ Say the word murder and they point like bird dogs and begin to drool.”
“I want you.”
“Then you’re crazy. Besides, Jason may not want me. Does he know who I am? Who I was?”
“Nobody does. Nobody has to. So far as Athena is concerned, you’re here because you’re a great lawyer.”
“And so far as you’re concerned?”
“Because you’re a great lawyer and because I would trust you with my life. More to the point, I would trust you with my son’s life.”
She shook her head. “We’ll return your check.”
“Um,” Arnold said, “I’m afraid it’s been deposited.”
She waved a hand at him. “Call the office and tell them to cut one to David for the same amount.”
“I refuse to accept it,” David said. “I am paying for your services, and I will accept no one and nothing less.”
Kate wondered if fear for his son was enough motivation to put that strength in him, or whether he’d actually grown stronger through the years. Even as Macbeth his senior year in college, he’d never truly caught the timbre of command she heard in his voice now. He’d always been too amiable. He hated making enemies. Maybe making an enemy of Kate had taught him the knack.
“Your check entitles you
She wished she had sweated off that ten pounds she’d gained in the last couple of years, but she was still twenty pounds lighter than she’d been when she and David lived in that godawful flat on the Lower East Side in Manhattan. These days she ran and she worked out. Her buns might not be steel exactly, but they were definitely aluminum. Her haircut had cost a packet in Beverly Hills and looked it.
She could do this. She shoved away from the wall, took a deep breath and turned around.
“How did you know it was me?” he asked.
Despite her good intentions she had to close her eyes a moment against the impact of him. Not fat and bald. Not fair.
He held out his hand. She ignored it. “You still use that expensive sandalwood soap.” She curled her lip. “No doubt you can afford it— now . I suppose you could say I smelled you.”
He nodded.
Oh, damn, damn, damn. Why did men have to get better as they aged while women got worse? He seemed even taller, although that couldn’t be. Maybe he was wearing those high-heeled cowboy boots. His shoulders seemed broader, more muscular in his plaid shirt. There was gray in his sandy hair, but while most people got dull bits of gray straggling all over, David’s lay in neat silver wings over his ears. His face was tan, his body lean and taut, and the incipient crow’s-feet around his eyes seemed like arrows pointing to the blue of his eyes.
Crazy eyes. Plenty of people wore contact lenses to turn their eyes that blue, but David had been born with them. Never saw a man with eyes that dark blue. Like the Blue Grotto in Capri or the Hope Diamond. Killer diamond. Better analogy. Definitely killer eyes.
The David she remembered was a combination of Brad Pitt and his namesake David by Michelangelo. This man was Harrison Ford and Richard Gere and Sean Connery sand...
And she hated him.
He dropped his hand as though he hadn’t really expected her to shake it.
“Are you responsible for getting me down here for your son?” she asked, waving toward the door behind which his no-doubt bewildered son still sat with his huge baby-sitter.
“Yes.”
“Oh, David, what possessed you? My Lord, even if I were F. Lee Bailey and Johnnie Cochran rolled into one I wouldn’t handle this case. And if you know enough about me to find me as Kate Mulholland, you must know I’m not a criminal litigator any longer. I don’t do murderers.”
“He’s not a murderer. He’s innocent.”
“He could be as innocent as the angels and I still wouldn’t be the right lawyer to defend him. If you’re dead set on using the firm, we’ve got a crack team of guys who will use every trick in the book to get him free. We call them ‘the murder twins.’ Say the word murder and they point like bird dogs and begin to drool.”
“I want you.”
“Then you’re crazy. Besides, Jason may not want me. Does he know who I am? Who I was?”
“Nobody does. Nobody has to. So far as Athena is concerned, you’re here because you’re a great lawyer.”
“And so far as you’re concerned?”
“Because you’re a great lawyer and because I would trust you with my life. More to the point, I would trust you with my son’s life.”
She shook her head. “We’ll return your check.”
“Um,” Arnold said, “I’m afraid it’s been deposited.”
She waved a hand at him. “Call the office and tell them to cut one to David for the same amount.”
“I refuse to accept it,” David said. “I am paying for your services, and I will accept no one and nothing less.”
Kate wondered if fear for his son was enough motivation to put that strength in him, or whether he’d actually grown stronger through the years. Even as Macbeth his senior year in college, he’d never truly caught the timbre of command she heard in his voice now. He’d always been too amiable. He hated making enemies. Maybe making an enemy of Kate had taught him the knack.
“Your check entitles you
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