Page 7 of Mace

“He wrote down his number for me and told me to call him when you’d be available to talk with him,” Mace said. “I’d like to be there too if that’s okay. There was something about the old guy that seemed almost familiar. I just couldn’t put my finger on it, but I almost feel like I know him somehow.” Brooke wondered how Mace would know the victim’s father. If he did, that might put a kink in her defense.

“I’ll see what I can do to arrange a meeting with him. Text me his number and I’ll be in touch,” she ordered.

Mace sighed into the other end of the call, “Will you really?” he asked. She knew that not reaching out to him for three days was a bit rude, but she didn’t expect him to call her out on it.

“What do you mean by that?” Brooke asked, suddenly feeling defensive.

“I mean that you told me to stay put, in this shitty motel, and then you never came back. I’ve been waiting for three days to talk to you about my case, and you didn’t even have the decency to call me,” Mace accused.

“You’re right,” Brooke said. “That was shitty of me, and I’m sorry,” Mace chuckled, and she tried to figure out what she had said that was so funny. “Why are you laughing?” she asked.

“I think that was the first time that I’ve ever heard you curse,” he said. “It’s kind of cute to hear you say, Shitty,” he said.

“Damn it,” Brooke mumbled when she realized that she had cursed. “Sorry, when I’m tired, I curse—a lot,” she admitted. “It’s very unprofessional of me, and it won’t happen again.”

“I hope that it does, Brooke,” Mace said. “It makes you sound, well, more human. I cuss all the fucking time, so I really don’t mind.” Plus, he said that she sounded cute when she cursed, but she was going to leave that one alone.

“Yeah, I picked up on that,” she said. “I think that you cursed every other word during our meeting.”

“Yep, and I’m not going to change my ways,” Mace said. “So, you should just join in.” She giggled, thinking about all the times she had to refrain from cursing during a client meeting. It would be nice to let her hair down once in a while, and Mace seemed cool with it.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. “Listen, Mace,” she breathed, “I’m sorry about not reaching out to you for three days. My father and I had a disagreement about your case, and I needed some time to figure out how to handle him.”

“What was the disagreement?” Mace asked.

“Um, he didn’t think that I should work on your case, and I disagreed with him,” Brooke admitted. She knew that Mace would probably ask her why her father didn’t want her on his case, and there was no way that she’d be able to come up with a lie to keep from hurting his feelings.

“Does your father have a problem with me?” Mace growled. She could tell that he was already pissed, so she decided to rip the rest of the band-aid off.

“Yes, he does,” she said. “He doesn’t think that I should be representing a biker with a juvenile record. I told him that I can take any case that pleases me, as a partner of the firm, and he told me that he’d find a way to keep me off of your case.”

“Shit, Brooke,” Mace breathed, “I don’t want to come between you and your old man, and I especially don’t want you to lose your job.”

Brooke giggled into the other end of the phone, “If my father heard you calling him an old man, he’d be pretty pissed off. Besides, he can’t fire me. I own half of the firm. It was a graduation present from him and my grandfather when I graduated from law school. I was thinking about going to work for another law firm in town, and they gave me the company to keep me from doing so. When my grandfather passed away, I inherited his shares, making me the controlling shareholder.”

“I’m glad to hear that you have job security,” Mace said, “but if you have changed your mind about representing me, I’d understand. I don’t have much of a case and I know that my past won’t help me in court.”

“You have more of a case than you know,” Brooke assured. Sure, she was lying to him again, but she couldn’t let him fall into despair without trying to help him first. She was a damn good lawyer, and if he was innocent, she’d prove it.

“Are you innocent, Mace?” she asked. It wasn’t something that she usually asked point blank, but she couldn’t help asking Mace. He had told her that he was innocent during their meeting, but all of her clients said that to her.

“I am,” he almost whispered. “I didn’t kill that guy. I’ve never even heard of Reece Childs before the cops questioned me.”

“Then, I can help you,” she insisted. “Just give me a chance, Mace.” Brooke had never begged a client to keep her on as their lawyer, but for some reason, representing Mace meant more to her than she knew.

“I believe you, Brooke,” he said, “and I’d appreciate your help.”

“Then you have it, Mace,” Brook promised. “I’ll reach out to your visitor in the morning and get back to you once I set up the meeting.”

“Thank you, Brooke,” he breathed. “Night.”

“Goodnight, Mace,” Brooke said, ending the call. There was something about the way that Mace said goodnight to her that made her girl parts stand at attention, and her only recourse was to ignore them because there was no way that she was going to get involved with her client—ever.

Broke woke before her alarm went off, wanting to get a jump start on her day. She waited until a respectable hour to call the guy who supposedly had information about Mace’s case but knew by the man’s voice that she had woken him up.

“Um, I’m sorry, but I don’t know your name,” she said. “I’m Mace Cooper’s lawyer and he said that you might have information about his case.”

“How do I know that you are who you say you are?” the guy asked. Brooke rolled her eyes, knowing that he couldn’t see her, but it made her feel better, nonetheless.

---