“I don’t need solid proof. The allegations are enough to sway a judge to my side. A child shouldn’t be exposed to a potential predator when there is an obvious, natural, way to avoid it. That way, is spending holidays with my parents.”
“Your parents. Not you.” Brad’s patience wavered and his words took on a scathing edge. “And you forgot to tell me about it at the start of the case.”
“I didn’t forget. I neglected to tell you.”
“Cut the crap, you forgot, because Anna’s interests aren’t yours,” Brad snapped. He pulled in a deep breath to temper his rising anger. “C’mon, if it was so important, you have to admit you’d bring it up from the get-go. Yet now you’re willing to subject Anna to intensive interviews when she’s already upset about the whole divorce.”
“This is exactly what I’m talking about. My attorney shouldn’t be trying to convince me into accepting terms I don’t care for. It’s not like I don’t have the money to fight Jennifer. If I want to piss it away on your fees, and fight this until she’s beyond bankrupt and can’t fight any longer, that’s my choice. Stop pussyfooting around her attorney and step up with a bat.”
“Fine. I’ll contact the authorities tomorrow morning.”
A beat of silence passed through the phone. When Miles spoke, his words held a defensive edge. “Don’t patronize me.”
“I’m merely trying to advise you on the ramifications of this course of action.” Brad hit the print button on the email and shut down his laptop. The printer whirred to life behind him. “If you’re firm, that’s how it goes. But I think you should consider Anna before you continue.”
“I’m firm. And I’ve already mentioned my concerns to Randall Blackson. He tells me you’re the best New York has to offer. Don’t fuck me, Brad.”
Shit. Brad clenched a fist. A sharp pounding took up residence in Brad’s head. He cleared his throat to tame his bounding pulse. Through gritted teeth, he ground out, “I’ll pursue it.”
“All right. Call me when you have an update.”
Brad didn’t bother with a farewell. He terminated the call and tossed his cell phone on the desk. Fucking Randall. Breech of ethics, conflict of interest, potential disbarment—all of which he faced if he continued to tangle the sheets with Cassie, not to mention one lost opportunity at partner. Why the hell had Miles gone to Randall?
Brad closed Miles’ email and flipped through the rest that had come in today. As instinct warned, Randall had also emailed. What the hell had he inadvertently said to give Miles the wrong assumption? He was certain Cassie hadn’t influenced his decision; he wouldn’t have approached the situation any other way with any other client. Cassie was right—Brad couldn’t guarantee Miles’ word. But wrong assumptions, explanations to the partners, requests for new counsel—Brad could see his promotion swirling in the toilet.
He clicked open Randall’s email, his chest tightening with each typed word:
Got a call from a concerned Miles Cooper. He feels your caving to O.C. I don’t have to mention these aren’t the kind of calls we want. Potential ethics violations are not something we take lightly. Update me pronto. ~R.B.
Brad stared at the screen, his heart lodged in his throat. He had never given the partners cause for concern, never screwed up. But he was now. That he was getting complaints at all would tip Randall off. He was dangerously close to losing everything. Not only him, but if this took a wrong turn, Cassie too. Fuck! He had to leave. Now. Get as far away from this mess as he could. For both their sakes.
“Cassie?” he called down the hall.
She appeared a few minutes later, took one look at him, and her expression filled with concern. “Is everything okay?”
He couldn’t tell her—the words lodged in the back of his throat. No matter how he tried, no matter how he knew he must, he couldn’t work them free. He tried to cover with a casual tone. “If Miles gets back to me tomorrow and insists on following through, do you think Jennifer would consider sharing holidays?”