Page 11 of Burned
Before we entered the building, I studied the license plate and memorized the three letters and four numbers on the plate. It wasn’t too difficult, considering the last three numbers were all the same. Once we got back to my place, I would research the plate number and find out who the hell was following us.
As we entered the historical building, the old class charm greeted us. Even though the building had been updated, the original marble floor still glistened like it was brand new. The old wood and iron banister leading to the next floor also shone, like it had recently been sanded down and retreated with stain. Absolutely beautiful. Looking at Kenzi, I saw she was in awe as well. Maybe even more than I.
“I can’t get over how beautiful this building is,” Kenzi commented as her eyes peered up toward the ceiling, taking in the beautiful tile work and craftsmanship.
“It is quite spectacular,” I replied.
Taking her focus from the ceiling to me, Kenzi took hold of my hand and led me toward a row of elevators. “Since we are here, I want to introduce you to the attorneys I will be working with.”
Her touch was welcome and somewhat of a surprise. This was the first time she had held out her hand for me to take. I liked it. As she led me to the row of elevators, I kept my guard up and remained cognizant of the people coming into the building. No one entering seemed to be out of place. The men were in suits, while the women were in heels and either dresses or tasteful pant suits. Kenzi wasn’t aware of my concerns and I wanted to keep it that way.
Once on the elevator, Kenzi pushed the button to the twelfth floor. The door slowly slid closed until a masculine hand appeared, sporting an expensive watch around his wrist. The door slid back in the opposite direction and the gentleman got inside. I didn’t know this man from Adam, but already I hated him. The way he looked at Kenzi reminded me of a panther ready to pounce on his prey. He was wearing an expensive pinstriped suit, tailored to fit his muscular frame. His blond hair was combed and gelled in place as though he had spent hours in front of a mirror to achieve the confident, arrogant bastard look that every woman should avoid.
Smiling, he kept his sights on Kenzi. “Kenzi, I didn’t plan to see you here until next week,” he said in a deep voice.
Kenzi must have felt my animosity toward this man and introduced us. “Peter Saxton, this is River Stevenson,” she said. “River wanted to see where I would be working and to meet some of the attorneys from the firm.”
Saxton held out his hand, but I was hesitant to take it. Like I had something to prove, I took hold of his hand and squeezed it harder than needed. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Saxton. Hopefully, you’re better at choosing your clients than choosing your tailor.”
“River,” Kenzi growled. “You’ll have to excuse Mr. Stevenson's rudeness. He gets a little crabby when he hasn’t had enough sleep.”
Thankfully, I didn’t have to apologize to this moron since the elevator door to the twelfth floor slid open. He was the first one off and another man in a suit greeted him. I kept my sights on him as Kenzi and I exited the elevator, until he slipped inside an office where I could no longer see him. Peter Saxton was someone I needed to find out more about. Making a mental note, I felt a gentle tug on my arm. “Come on, I want you to meet Burt Marsh. He is one of the other partners of the firm and probably the oldest.”
As we headed down the hallway to Burt Marsh’s office, the bile in my stomach rose. I knew this man. He had aged well and I would recognize that face anywhere. He helped the one man I loathed get away with murder.
Marsh looked up from his computer and smiled. “Ms. Horton. This is a surprise.”
“Mr. Marsh,” Kenzi smiled, stepping up to his desk. “I’d like you to meet River Stevenson.”
I stepped in front of Kenzi and held out my hand as though I hadn’t recognized who this man was. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I replied. Gritting my teeth, I added, “Kenzi is very excited to be a part of your firm.”
“Even though we have never met, your reputation precedes you, Mr. Stevenson,” Marsh stated with a touch of sarcasm. “I was sorry to hear about your wife. It must be hard living with the guilt that you could have prevented her death.”
He was right. We had a history. The firm Kenzi would work for was the same firm that represented Davian Cross 15 years ago. There was no way I could allow Kenzi to work for a firm that represented guilty criminals. “Ms. Horton won’t be working for your firm. I won’t allow her to be a part of a law firm that represents murderers.”
~9~
Kenzi
“River, let go of my arm. Are you crazy?”
I felt like I was having a bad dream. Everything I had worked so hard for had been taken away in a matter of minutes. I managed to pull free from River’s grasp before we got to the elevator, anger and confusion filtering through my body. His behavior was unacceptable. My only choice was to fix things with Mr. Marsh and pray that he wouldn’t hold me responsible for River’s outburst.
River’s effort to stop me was halted when four paralegals stepped off the elevator. Taking advantage of the situation, I stepped between them and became a part of their small group. There wasn’t anything that River could do unless he wanted to cause a scene. I and the four paralegals stepped through the law office door—them heading toward the rows of cubicles and me to Mr. Marsh’s office.
When I reached Mr. Marsh’s office door, it felt like a large rock had lodged in my throat. Hopefully, the amount of groveling I was about to do would be enough to save my job. When I knocked lightly on the door frame, Mr. Marsh looked up with an annoyed expression on his face.
Before he could say a word, I walked through the door and moved toward his desk. “I don’t have enough words to apologize for Mr. Stevenson’s behavior. He had no right to accuse your firm of representing murderers.”
“Sit,” he said, pointing to the chairs in front of his desk.
I did as he asked and took a seat while keeping my focus on his expression. Mr. Marsh was a fair man, and I respected him. When I did research on the law firms that I wanted to intern at, Saxton, Marsh, and Peters were at the top of the list. When my application was accepted, I made a promise to myself that I would become the best lawyer I could be. Just like him, I swore to be fair and just and to represent clients who were innocent. I wasn’t sure what River had against this firm, but I was going to find out.
“How much do you know about Mr. Stevenson?” Mr. Marsh asked.
“I know he is kind and what he said isn’t like him. He seemed genuinely happy for me that I got hired to work at this firm. He was the one who wanted to meet everyone.”
Leaning back in his chair, something about the way he looked at me made me think he wasn’t sure how much he should tell me about River. “Has Mr. Stevenson ever told you about his wife?”
