Page 65 of Dirty Rich Cinderella Story

“Because I’m the contact everyone knew could get to you. And I still can.”

“Who’s the client?” I ask.

“Tara Knight.”

“Hold on,” I say. “I’m putting you on speaker with Lori Havens, my new—”

“Me?” she asks.

“No. She’s the future me.” I put Ashley on speaker. “Tell us about the case,” I order, folding my arms in front of my chest again, and looking at Lori, who is looking at me.

“Hi, Lori,” Ashley says.

“Hi, Ashley,” Lori replies.

“Tara Knight called me in a panic,” she says.

“As in the superstar actress?” Lori asks.

“Yes,” Ashley confirms. “Her. She’s the client. David Curry, the equally famous actor, is dead. He overdosed. The police think she gave him the drugs. She says she’s being setup because they hate her father, which we know is true, since Cole represented her father in a securities fraud case, and got him off.”

“And several members of law enforcement fired,” I add for Lori’s benefit.

“She’s holding off the police,” Ashley says, “but she needs you, Cole. I already booked you a private jet. Normal airport and spot. It’s ready now.”

“Didn’t you quit?” Cole asks.

“About that. Can you pick up?”

I grab the line. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Yes. He’s a bastard. I want to come back. Do I have a job?”

“With a fucking raise,” I say. “When can you be here?”

“Two weeks? Can you make it that long?”

“We’ll make it work.”

“Good. Then I’ll book you a hotel room now. Do you need one for Lori?”

“Yes,” I say. “I do.”

“I’ll text you the details. There’s a car waiting on you in the parking garage to avoid party congestion at the front of the building.”

“You did all of this from Paris?”

“And I’ll be doing it from New York City soon. Later, boss.” She hangs up.

I set the receiver down and refocus on Lori. “We’ll go by your place and then mine on the way to the airport.”

“No,” Lori says instantly. “No, I need to—”

“Do your job,” I say, leaning on the desk again. “And with a chance to say you worked on a case this high profile.”

“I’m quite clear on the opportunity this represents,” she says. “I’m anxious to work the case. That’s not the problem.”

No, I think, Lance is the problem. “You’ll get your own room.” I grab a few files and stick them in my briefcase. “Grab whatever you need from the office and let’s go.” I round the desk. “Unless you’ve decided you can’t do the job, because this is the job, Lori.”

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