Page 64 of Legal Passion
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
STONEHADAkiller headache and a killer client. He’d had too much to drink the night before. Muriel and Bette had joined him and the guys at the bar. They’d felt sorry for him, not because of his loss in court but because of his loss in love. So they’d bought him a few rounds of shots.
Usually Stone could handle his liquor. But he hadn’t had anything to eat that day or probably the day before. He was too sick over the trial, but mostly over Hillary.
It wasn’t love, though. He’d scoffed at the idea of that, but everyone around him—even Trev—had exchanged knowing looks, like they’d all thought he was kidding himself.
Sure, Hillary excited him more than any other woman ever had. She made him better in court and in bed. She challenged him as no one ever had. She matched him.
If only she could love him.
But she didn’t respect him. And they couldn’t build a relationship if they didn’t have mutual respect. He respected her. According to Trev, who had answered his phone the night before, she’d admitted she was wrong—about Byron.
What about him?
He stared across the desk at her, and he couldn’t help but think of the things that they’d done on that desk.
The things he wanted to do to her even now. Suddenly his tie felt too tight and so did his pants. How could she get to him so effortlessly?
Maybe Kenneth Mueller shouldn’t have asked for him to represent him. He’d failed his father because of Hillary—because she’d distracted him so much that he hadn’t been able to exonerate an innocent man.
Until now...
But Kenneth had done that when he’d gone to Hillary with his confession the night before. Since Stone hadn’t been available, the kid had waived his right to have a lawyer and had written down his statement anyway.
But Stone could get that tossed out—if he wanted to. Since Kenneth had let his dad spend months in jail already for his crime, he wasn’t sure he even wanted to represent the kid at all, though.
“Do you need some coffee, Mr. Michaelsen?” she asked. “You probably need some caffeine to wake up after your late night at the bar.”
All he needed was her. The thought stunned him. But it was true. He needed her. He’d never been as happy as he had been these past couple of weeks. While the trial had been nearly debilitating in its intensity, the passion and humor with her had balanced out all that—had made him feel things he’d never felt before.
Love.
Damn it, Bette and Muriel had been right. He was in love with the opposing counsel.
“Are you okay, man?” Kenneth whispered at him.
Stone nodded. “Yes.” He focused on the young man; it was safer than looking at Hillary.
Even with dark circles beneath her blue eyes, she was so damn beautiful. Kenneth’s eyes were red and puffy as if he’d spent the entire night crying.
Hillary obviously hadn’t. But then, like dopey Dwight had said, she wasn’t the girlie kind, so it wasn’t like she’d spent the night eating ice cream and weeping over a lost love. Well, first she would have had to love him to do that. And she wouldn’t have pushed him away like she had if she’d had any deep feelings for him.
He forced himself to turn back toward her and ask, “What are you offering?” He wanted her heart, but he knew she wasn’t going to offer him that. Hell, she wasn’t going to offer him anything.
Only his new client.
“Voluntary manslaughter, first degree, minimum sentence at a minimum-security prison.”
He let a gasp slip out.
“What?” Kenneth asked. “Is that bad?”
Stone shook his head. “It’s fair.” Hell, it was more than fair.
“You’re—you’re not going to negotiate?” Kenneth asked.
He shook his head. “The faster you agree and allocute, the faster your father will get out. And it is a good deal.” He swallowed his pride and admitted, “A very good deal.”
