Impasse (15 page)

“Okay,” she agreed. “Today I serve. Where's Pauline? She can point me to the coffee.”

Clay shook his head.

“You didn't…”

“Pauline doesn't face change well either.” His hand was still on Katherine's knee. His grip was firm but seemed meant to reassure her. “It's a new day, Kate.”

He left his hand in place until she looked away, and then let it slide off.

“What's this about a ‘local office'?” Katherine said, changing the subject.

“We opened a branch in Providence just today.”

“Providence? Are you kidding?”

“Don't be impressed. It's just a phone book ad with a Providence number. It rings through to the receptionist here. If we get a client on the hook, we rent an office space over there for an hour for an initial consultation. Then we tell them that they are so important, we're referring them to the home office here.”

“Who's going to do all that new work?”
Stu will,
she thought.

Clay anticipated her concern. “The more work we get, the more of it we farm out to ‘associates.' We'll bill them at two hundred an hour and pay them one hundred. They become another income stream. There are plenty of young lawyers out there looking for work. That uppity bitch Audra is dying for more hours.”

Katherine couldn't help herself. She giggled. “She
is
an uppity bitch. I think she spilled wine on the tablecloth Stu bought me for my birthday.”

“Well, now she can help buy you a new one.”

“You know, I could tell Stu was covering for her.”

Clay lowered his voice. “Do you think they're fucking?” he said with mock solemnity.

Katherine laughed out loud. The idea of Stu carrying on an affair in his white briefs without her knowledge was as comical and preposterous as a dark-suited attorney saying the word
fucking
in the middle of a law office. She shook her head. “Puh-leez. Our Stu?”

Clay grinned along with her. “You never know about a man facing a midlife crisis. Is he getting enough at home, Kate?”

The conversation had taken a decidedly raw turn, but Katherine was having fun, and she was about to launch a playful retort—something about being more woman than Stu could handle—when Clay put a finger to her lips to shush her.

Just then Audry herself pushed open the conference room door. The aspiring attorney wore a blue suit for the occasion. Sharp, but definitely off the rack, and probably a size eight, Katherine judged.
Maybe even a ten.

“Dugan is here,” Audry said. “Do you want any other ‘associates' to sit in?”

“No, Audra,” Clay said. “You'll do fine. Just behave.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And could you get me a cup of tea?”

“Sure. And would you like milk, sugar, or a dollop of piss-off in that?” She didn't wait for an answer. “I'll go get our budding client.”

Clay winked at Katherine as Audry departed, and he mouthed the word
uppity
.

Katherine had to suppress another giggle. Dugan was coming.

 

CHAPTER 18

Audry led Reginald Dugan into the conference room. At six-foot-four he towered over Buchanan, Stark's petite associate and filled the hallway.

He nodded at Katherine, his broad chest alone wider than her shoulders. “Mrs. Stark, good to see you again.”

She nodded back. “Mr. Dugan.”

“You have coffee here?”

“Absolutely. Would you like me to get you some?”

“Absolutely,” he repeated, smiling.

When Katherine returned with the steaming cup, Clay and Dugan were huddled around the table talking business while Audry took notes. Dugan looked up.

“Thanks, darlin'. Say, can I ask you a couple questions before you go?”

She glanced at Clay. He nodded his permission.

“Sure,” she said.

“I'm a straightforward guy,” Dugan began. “And I'm thinking of hiring your husband's firm. Clay here has given me the hard sell, and Audra seems smart as a whip. But I'd like to get a couple things straight from the mare's mouth.” He shifted his large frame in the chair, facing her. “Why do you think a man like me ought to ditch my big overpriced law firm for a small operation like this?”

Katherine gathered herself.
I'm on.

“Because we're not overpriced, for one,” she began. “And we're successful. Look around. We're growing; a new satellite office in Providence is coming online within the week.”

“Providence, eh?”

“Yes. And maybe you didn't know that Stuart graduated in the top ten percent of his class, just like those big firm lawyers. He works hard. And we don't have children, so this job is his baby.”

A moment of silence followed, but Dugan did not yet seem convinced. He spoke again, his tone more serious. “Pardon me for bringing it up, but the DA fired Stuart a few years back. Shouldn't I be concerned about that?”

The big man wasn't delicate, and he certainly didn't pull any punches. “Stuart was a rising star,” Katherine said. “He was obviously next in line for Malloy's job.”

Dugan nodded. “And men on top don't like to be challenged.”

“Of course not.”

“How about Clay here? What's he like?”

Katherine thought for a moment. The situation felt too formal, too academic, like she was reciting r
é
sum
é
s. The dirty-fingernailed developer didn't look comfortable. He didn't feel at home in their office the same way he didn't feel comfortable with the firm he was firing.

“You have to make your own call on Clay,” she said. “I don't know him the way I know my husband. He could be a huge prick.”

Dugan laughed out loud. “You're feisty. Boy, do I like that! Just as long as he's
my
huge prick. That's exactly what I pay my lawyers to be.”

Katherine smiled back, relieved. It had been a gamble, but she was good at making people relax. Dugan needed to feel like he was among friends, not dazzled by professionalism. Buchanan, Stark wouldn't win a r
é
sum
é
battle against the big firms anyway.

“Is that all you needed to know?” she said.

“Yep,” he said. “Thanks, babe. You've been a great help.”

“I aim to please.”

Clay gave her a clandestine nod, and Katherine stepped out of the room to let them talk again. She felt elated. She'd made Dugan comfortable. And it had been a decade since she'd been called a babe.

They concluded their meeting a few minutes later, and Dugan stepped out to use the bathroom. Clay sent Audry back to one of the new offices.

Katherine peeked into the conference room. “How did I do, boss?” she joked with a smug grin.

Clay looked up. “I could have sworn I told you to call him Reggie,” he said, unsmiling.

Katherine winced. “He called me Mrs. Stark. I replied in kind. It just felt right.”

Clay gave her a blank look, and her stomach did a flip-flop. She'd screwed up. She knew it. He knew it. And he knew she knew it.

“It was just a little thing,” she tried. “And he laughed when I called you a prick.”

“Yeah, we'll talk about
that
later too. Look, I know you're accustomed to improvising your life, but I have a specific strategy that happens to be working for us, so I think it might be best if you follow my lead. Do you have an issue with that?”

She'd been having some fun, but fun wasn't the goal, she realized, and Clay was quite serious. More important, his strategy
was
working. He'd given her very specific direction and she'd immediately ignored it. She shook her head. “No issue. Sorry. I'm yours to command.”

“That's what I like to hear.”

Dugan reappeared in the hall. He and Clay were shaking hands, but Katherine couldn't tell if the deal had been struck or not. Without a written contract, it probably still hung in the balance.

“Thanks for the meeting,” Dugan said. “I'd love to see the rest of your office, but I've got to go out to inspect some model homes we're building.”

Clay brightened. “That's great. You know, Katherine is looking for a new place. Have you got anything with a bay view?”

“One. It's a bit pricey, though. We had to do a teardown of the existing home first. This one's brand-new with high-end materials.”

“Perfect,” Clay said, foregoing any discussion of the price. “I know she'd love to see it.”

Katherine held up a finger to object, but Clay's narrow eyes flashed to her, and her finger melted back into her palm under their burning gaze.

“It's okay, Kate,” Clay said. “I'm sure Reggie doesn't mind giving you a private showing.” He held her eyes with his. “This is one of those things I'm willing to take the lead on, if you're feeling shy.”

“Never be afraid to ask for what you want,” Dugan rumbled in his deep voice. “I'd be happy to take you out there. I'm going now, if that's good for you.”

When Katherine hesitated, Clay nodded at her.

“Okay,” she said. She took a deep breath and threw on a playful smile. “I'm game.”

Katherine dropped her aging Toyota Corolla at home and walked back down the driveway to Dugan's waiting Dodge Ram pickup for the trip south. The Ram was new—fifty thousand dollars, at least, Katherine guessed. It sat so high off the ground that she had to tiptoe in her heels and pull up her skirt just to reach the running board with her right foot. Dugan opened the door for her to help her in, one of his massive hands wrapping around hers.
Very gentlemanly.
His other hand found her butt again.
Less gentlemanly.
He hoisted her up onto the heated leather passenger seat.

The Ram's ride was smooth, more luxurious than any car she and Stu had ever owned, though the heated seat made her buns feel like they were being slow-cooked. The premium sound system played at a low volume so they could talk, and a navigation panel boasted voice activation and audio directions, which Reggie said he didn't use because it sounded like an annoying customer service woman trying to get him to calm down. His Bluetooth headset remained activated, but he'd tucked it in the door pouch so that she had his full attention.

Perhaps the most ostentatious option was the beverage cooler in the center console. Katherine would have preferred that it had a bottle of wine stuffed in it—a white zin for the middle of the day—but she didn't refuse the can of Miller High Life that Reggie offered. It felt good to calm down with a cheap beer and his blue-collar companionship after Clay's intensity. And drinking alcohol while riding in a car felt rebellious—something Stu would never do.

“This place is across the bridge. You okay with that?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“The drive into town would be longer.”

“I don't go downtown too often. The farther from New Bedford, the better.” He probably meant the drive would be longer for Stu, but she didn't want to talk about Stu. “Did you work on this home yourself?”

“Of course. I like to get my hands dirty. Makes me feel…”

Like a man,
Katherine thought. He was thick, muscular, and tall. Mostly thick. Not in a bad way. Her eyes ran from his corded neck down over his chest. It was deep and wide. He had a bit of a stomach, but it was the healthy belly of a man with big appetites, not the gut of an inactive loser. His belt was cinched beneath it, and below that …

Vulgar to stare,
she thought.

But she was
supposed
to be flirting. Hell, the man fondled her ass at every opportunity. Besides, she was curious—he was a big guy. She risked a long look. Reggie's bulge was not the standard crease that all males' jeans formed whenever they sat; it was a taut dome of denim the size of an orange, straining to accommodate what it held.

Katherine considered allowing him to see her stare, but there was a well-defined flirting hierarchy to consider—
friendly, flirty, naughty, dirty, nasty, raunchy, and slutty
. She was still only at stage two. Not naughty yet. She looked away before he noticed.

“Useful,” Reggie finished. “I get to feel useful. I use the same contractors for all the projects I finance. They like my money, and I like to pound a few nails.”

“I'll bet you do.” She watched him grin at that. It was satisfying; she'd shut off her playfulness when she'd gotten married, but it was easier than she thought to turn her hip swing back on. And the results were almost instantaneous. When she'd aged into her mid-thirties, she'd thought the opposite sex had forgotten her—the young guys who populated the SAC didn't give her a second look anymore. But Dugan was definitely looking. The men hadn't forgotten—only the boys.

They crossed Apponagansett Bay and turned down Smith Neck Road. He hadn't told her the address yet.

“So, Reggie, is the location supposed to be a surprise?”

“You wanna know?”

“No. I like surprises. Just take me there.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

It was a short trip. The Ram hummed, Reggie Dugan's deep voice narrated the neighborhoods, and Katherine sipped from her sweating can of beer. She felt an instant buzz that was hard to separate from the excitement of the Molson settlement, the fun of flirting, and the pressure of her mission to coax Dugan into committing. Clay would be very disappointed in her if she failed.
Better not blow it,
she thought.

They pulled into the driveway.

“End of the line. Everybody out,” Reggie announced.

“All two of us?”

Dugan held up the key to the house. “You want to go in alone?” He pressed it into her palm. It was silver, like treasure, but jagged and cool to the touch. When she closed her hand around it, the teeth bit into her flesh.