Just Destiny (20 page)

“What?”

“It’s no excuse really, but it pissed me off all the same.” He shoved the pad across the counter. “The defense discovered that my client’s gay. A little fact he might have thought to inform his counsel of beforehand.”

“You didn’t ask?”

“No.” Steve washed a hand down his face. “It shouldn’t have had any bearing on the case. The guy’s back and butt were covered with bruises, he was admitted to the hospital in complete kidney failure, and his rectum was ripped for inches.”

He arched an eyebrow and pointed an index finger at Jenny. “You don’t get injuries like that from rough sex. It was a felony. Rape. Assault.” He ticked off the charges on his fingers. “Those assholes should have been on the hook for the medical bills and jail time—instead they walked.”

“Poor guy. He bravely revealed his sexual orientation for nothing.”

“He revealed
nothin
’. The defense forced his disclosure.”

“Why didn’t you stop them?”

His eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped open in indignation. “I
tried
. I objected so loudly and so many times the judge threatened to hold me in contempt. When the whole gay thing came out, he kept overruling me. I was stunned. Never in a million years had it occurred to me that the guy was gay. He should have told me.”

“So it’s his fault?”

“Well, yeah. If he’d told me ahead of time I wouldn’t have sat there yelling fabricated objections, like an idiot. Had I known he was gay, I would have anticipated the attack and prepared arguments to neutralize the impact it had on prejudiced jurors. I could have been prepared to protect my client, instead of sitting there like a dumbass, letting the defense make mincemeat out of him. I also would have taken it into consideration during the jury selection.”

He shook his head and slumped over the counter. “But that’s not really why we lost. I dropped the ball. One of the defendants had a history of a prior child molestation charge; I should have found a way to use it. I was afraid that going after the defendant would garner sympathy for him with the jury. It was a rookie mistake. A more experienced attorney would have found a way to get it in.” He sighed. “Crap. My first real loss.”

Jenny straightened. “Real sympathetic, Grant. It isn’t all about the win or the loss.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Uh-h-h-h. Yeah, it is.”

“No it’s not. It’s about righting an injustice.”

“Of course it is. An attorney’s a hired gun—someone to do the fighting you can’t do—or don’t want to do. You
always
go into it for the win—and some people for the money.”

“Nice. How shallow can you be?”

“Just bein’ honest. Doesn’t matter how honorable your intentions are if you can’t win. If you can’t succeed, the injustice doesn’t even have a chance of being corrected, right?”

“What about hiring an attorney because he knows the law better than you, or to right a wrong, or for principles?”

“That’s just motives. Motives don’t really matter; it’s results that count. It’s the wins that earn a person the justice you want for them, or the mental peace they need to carry on after a tragedy, or the win earns them money to help pay medical bills—or to support their children. Or in some cases, the win grants a person’s freedom.”

“What a cynical viewpoint.”

“Maybe, but it’s reality.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Sorry, that’s the way it is.”

“The poor guy’s stuck with a ton of medical bills, your bill, humiliation beyond belief, and probably nightmares.”

“Now we’re gonna have to go after the fraternity and the school.”

“After he lost? Why would you do that? They’ll just lie again.”

“But this time I’ll be better prepared. I’ll take my
voir dire
more seriously and be a lot more aggressive with my strikes. And we’ll name the fraternity and the university as co-defendants and see if I can get them fighting each other.”

“And your client wants to move forward with this? If he needs a kidney transplant, I wouldn’t think he’d have the energy or emotional strength to go through that again.”

“He has to. He needs the money, and we can’t let them get away with it.”

Jenny clasped her hands together and leaned forward on her elbows. “Maybe you should.”

“Should what? Let them get off?”

She nodded. “Maybe he should put it all behind him and concentrate on healing and getting on with his life. He was beaten, raped, and had his sexual orientation exposed in a public, humiliating way. Maybe he’s better off letting it go.”

“That’s crazy.”

“That’s
his
choice. You ought to respect your client enough to let him make that decision.”

“I do and he did. He wants to go on. He hired me to stand for him and I won’t let him down again.” He narrowed his eyes. “What happened to your noble quest for justice—for righting a wrong?”

“I still believe that, but—” She paused, considering if she should continue. “Well…are you sure this is what your
client
really wants instead of soothing your ego?”

Steve’s foot stilled from its shaking and his face froze in an accusing stare. “That’s insulting.”

“It’s not meant to be, but I know how much winning means to you. I just can’t believe this kid would agree to go through all that pain again unless you talked him into it.”

Eyes narrowed and his forehead wrinkled in indecision. He blew out a loud sigh. “I’ll talk to him again and make sure it’s what he really wants. Satisfied?”

“Yes.” She smiled sweetly.

“In turn, I’m gonna ask a favor of you.”

Jenny stilled, cautious. “O-kay.”

“I have to go to the firm’s holiday party Friday night, and I don’t want to go alone.”

“What about Annie?”

“She’s got Bunko.”

“And she can’t skip it?”

Steve shook his head. “Will you go? Nobody there knows you, so there won’t be any awkward questions or condolences—no expectations.”

“Does Annie know you’re asking me?” Because if Annie knew that Steve had asked her to the fancy party, Jenny’d bet her eyeteeth she’d cancel Bunko in a heartbeat.

“Why would she care?”

“Because she’s your fiancée. I’d be jealous if Gabe took another woman to a hospital party.”

“Three points.” He ticked each supporting argument off on his fingers. “You were married to Gabe—we’re engaged, I asked her first and she turned me down, and you’re not just ‘another woman.’”

Jenny raised her eyebrows at his last item. “Thanks.”

He waved aside her complaint. “You know what I mean. It’s not as if this is a date. I just don’t want to go alone. Don’t want to go at
all
, but it’s business. We don’t even have to stay long. And you could use a night out. Come with me.”

Jenny really didn’t feel like going to a party. Her gaze drifted to a little sheet of paper clipped to the refrigerator door. ‘
Happiness is never something you get from other people. The happiness you feel is in direct proportion to the love you give
.’

Jenny had found the Oprah quote inspiring, so she’d typed it up and taped it to her refrigerator. Lonely as she occasionally was, Jenny didn’t want to make meaningless chit chat with strangers, yet maybe that was exactly what she needed. She wanted to be happy again, and since Gabe’s coming back to life wasn’t an option, she had to make herself happy. She’d have his baby and give it all the love she’d given to Gabe. Meanwhile, she’d make Steve happy and keep him company at his party.

She smiled. “I’d be happy to. Thanks for asking.”

* * *

Steve left Jenny’s kitchen, feeling more than a little disgruntled. He passed through the hedges between their houses wondering why women were so damn difficult. It was just a party. Where was all the Christmas spirit? Annie refused to go with him to the work party and he had to talk Jenny into going with him, when it’d be good therapy for her.

Steve rounded his house and headed to the patio. He lit the fire pit and sat back on the cold metal chair. When he’d first asked Annie to go to the party, the Bunko conflict came up right away, but when she found out it was strictly a work party with no famous clients attending, she’d been adamant that she couldn’t cancel Bunko.

She couldn’t even use the kids as an excuse, because Ryan had them, but Annie used them still, refusing to attend a function thirty minutes from home, claiming it was too far from Ryan’s—in case the children needed her. Which she was
always
certain, they would.

As if Ryan wasn’t capable of caring for his own kids for a weekend. From what Steve could see, he was a decent dad. Annie was so obsessive about her ex-husband’s inability to handle the kids alone that Steve couldn’t decide if she was a control freak or if she was still in love with her ex.

Either way, she wouldn’t go with him, and he didn’t want to go to the holiday party alone, so he’d asked Jenny. Propping his feet next to the fire, Steve pulled his jacket tighter to shield him from the brisk November breeze.

He hadn’t planned on asking Jenny; it’d been a spontaneous idea, but one that felt right as soon as he’d suggested it. Damn it, it shouldn’t feel right. His fiancée should be going with him, not his friend. But Jenny wouldn’t be bored with the conversation like Annie would. In fact, Jenny never backed down from a good debate.

He winced, thinking about her earlier accusation about his need to win. Was he being unreasonable? He bit his lower lip, thinking. Naw, she’s off base. Being competitive was a trait that stood him well in professional baseball and was also an essential characteristic in a successful attorney. He wasn’t wrong this time.

He stared into the dancing flames. An engaged man shouldn’t be taking another woman to a party—even if she was just a friend. Even though it wasn’t a date, it probably wouldn’t look right to others. But Jenny’d agreed. He hadn’t really thought she would, but she had—and she’d smiled. A soft, hesitant smile, as if she’d almost look forward to the party. He wasn’t about to recant that invitation.

* * *

Thanksgiving with Jenny’s family passed uneventfully. The holiday had been more somber than usual, but given Gabe’s death that was to be expected. She still hadn’t found the right time or words to tell her parents about her pending court case, sure they wouldn’t understand. She vowed to tell them soon.

Most of her month of reprieve was up, and although she still hadn’t located a lawyer willing to take her case, the press was heating up. They’d initially allowed her rebuffs but had become noticeably more persistent since the holiday. She’d have to tell her parents before they read about it in the newspaper.

Jenny ignored the banging at the front door, but it continued relentlessly. Clicking the save button on her computer, she pushed away from the desk, cursing the person causing all the racket. Grabbing her cell phone, she went to the door.

“Ritz, quiet. No bark,” she whispered at the dog growling at the door.

If it was another reporter, she was calling the police. She’d had more than enough of their harassment. As a journalist she’d interviewed distraught people in sticky situations, but she’d never invaded their privacy to get the story. What was their problem? Jenny pressed her face close to the peephole before shooing Ritz back and opening the door.

“Judith. Hi.”

Wearing a black woolen double-breasted dress coat topped by a lovely peach scarf, Judith stood on the front porch, clutching a paper bag to her chest. “Took you long enough to answer the door. What’re you doing?”

“Working.”

“Don’t you answer your phone anymore? I’ve called a dozen times in the past week and left as many messages.” She breezed by, wafting the unmistakable smell of Chinese food.

“Come on in.” Jenny shut the door and faced Judith. “What’s wrong? Are the kids okay?”

“They’re fine.” Judith stared at her. Her keen brown gaze traveled up and down Jenny’s body.

Jenny fought the urge to squirm. Inwardly cringing, she pushed back the sleeves of Gabe’s sweatshirt and folded her arms across her narrow waist. She smoothed an errant lock of hair away from her face. With no makeup and wearing old sweats that hung on her, she knew she looked rough.

“You look like shit,” Judith said. She unwound the scarf and unbuttoned her coat. “You’ve lost fifteen pounds and you’re pale. Your hair’s even lost its luster. Haven’t you been eating?”

Jenny raised her chin. “I’ve been busy and I haven’t been hungry.”

Judith draped her coat across the staircase newel. “For God’s sake, Jenny, how’re you going to convince a doctor to inseminate you when you can’t even take care of yourself?”

Jenny fought the urge to hunch over to try and disappear into Gabe’s huge sweatshirt, ashamed that she’d let herself deteriorate to such an obvious degree. It had never occurred to her that the judge might think her unfit if she didn’t look healthy. She vowed to move that to the top of her list, right next to finding an attorney.

“Have you contacted a fertility specialist yet?”

Jenny drew her cold hands further into the sweatshirt sleeves until they were completely covered. No need for Judith to see her chewed-off nails too.

“No. Reporters have started following me. I didn’t want them to scare the doctor off with all their questions. I’ll take care of it later.”

Jenny trailed after Judith as she moved into the kitchen. She might have been offended by the way the older woman nosed about her cupboards, pulling out plates and silverware, but was amused instead. “I take it you’re staying for dinner? What about Dave and the kids?”

“Dave took them out for pizza and a movie.” Judith opened up the paper bag and began pulling out the folded white boxes. Again and again, until six Chinese boxes lined the countertop. She’d brought enough food to feed ten people.

Judith shrugged. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got a variety.”

“You didn’t want to go to the movie?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Those stupid slapstick comedies aren’t my thing. Now come eat.”

Why didn’t that surprise her? If Judith had a sense of humor, she hid it well. Jenny instantly felt ashamed of the uncharitable thought. Judith had brought her dinner and was checking on her. That was nice. Jenny pushed off the counter, poured Judith a glass of iced tea and popped the top on a soda for herself.