Braving the Heat Page 14

  “How long until it’s ready?”

  “I believe the direct quote from Joey was ‘a week or so’.”

  “Sounds about right,” he said. The conversation had veered back to the Charger and the new rebuild on the lift when someone buzzed the gate for entrance.

  “New client?” he asked, pointing to the desk calendar under her salad.

  “Not one I scheduled,” she said.

  Together they studied the luxurious, German-built black sedan through the monitor. Stephen didn’t have a good feeling about it, but he opened the gate, anyway. The car rolled inside with little more than a murmur and stopped in front of the office door. A man emerged from the driver’s side, his silver hair trimmed perfectly and his tailored, charcoal suit flawless. Despite the heat, he appeared as cool and immovable as an iceberg. Stephen could spot a Marburg attorney from a mile away and this one was carrying a slim leather briefcase.

  He was here to offer her some sort of deal. Stephen had watched plenty of legal maneuvering during the trial for Annabeth’s killer. Unlike the lawyers working with evidence to convict or clear a defendant, those cutting deals never carried an excess of paperwork.

  “Miss Hughes, I’m Lance Webster. May I speak with you a moment?”

  “You’re with Marburg,” Stephen interjected. “Her lawyer should be present at any meeting.” Turning to Kenzie, he said, “Call him right now. Use the office phone.”

  She ignored him, pulling out her cell and entering the number.

  “This is a civil case, Mr. Galway. Although you’re not currently involved, it’s my pleasure to inform you Mr. Murtagh is considering filing assault charges against you.”

  “Oh, I look forward to it,” Stephen said.

  Kenzie stepped between them, her braced hand on his chest and her cell phone to her ear. “He doesn’t mean that.”

  “Yes, I do.” He glared at Webster. “I was protecting her from an assault. I’m confident most witnesses, and a jury if necessary, will see it my way once they have access to accurate footage of the incident.” He drew her back just enough to make his point clear to the Marburg puppet. She was under his protection and this was his property. “If you want to talk to Miss Hughes, you’ll have to set an appointment when her lawyer can be present,” he said. “Please leave.”

  “We don’t enjoy theatrics, Miss Hughes,” Webster said. “Your attorney was informed of when and where we wanted to meet today.”

  “You invented theatrics,” Stephen retorted, unable to contain the outburst.

  Kenzie was staring at her phone. “He’s not answering.” She swiped up and down her call history. “There’s no message from him, either.”

  “Guess you’ll have to reschedule,” Stephen said to Webster. “I recommend the next appointment take place at an office rather than my place of business.”

  Just when he thought he’d won this round for her, a car pulled in through the gate, stopping beside the black sedan with a brief squeal of the tires. Also a German sedan, this one was older and a deep red, but had clearly been well maintained.

  “That’s Paul, my lawyer.” Kenzie rushed forward as a younger man scrambled out of his car without his suit jacket. His short dark hair and an elegant circle beard framed his dark complexion. Stephen relaxed when he noticed the temper banked in the man’s deep brown eyes.

  Stephen was close enough to Webster to catch the man’s muttered curse. “Problem?” he challenged.

  Webster ignored him.

  “This is Paul Corrigan,” Kenzie said.

  Her lawyer extended a hand to greet Stephen and paid no attention to Webster. Stephen liked him already.

  “Could we take this into the office?” Paul tipped his head to the street, where another media van had joined the first.

  Though it aggravated him immensely to play host to anyone from Marburg besides Julia, Stephen led everyone into the office. The only benefit would be fewer witnesses if he decided to deck Webster.

  “I don’t believe you need to be here, Mr. Galway,” the Marburg attorney said.

  “On the contrary, you threatened me with an assault complaint. I’ll stay.”

  Paul bristled. “For last night? Oh, that is rich.”

  Webster simply plowed forward with his agenda. “I’m offering your client a settlement. Mr. Murtagh isn’t without compassion for her predicament. He is willing to drop the lawsuit if she voluntarily resigns from the PFD.”

  “No deal,” Kenzie snapped.

  Stephen nearly gave her a high five for stubbornness.

  “The evidence is mounting, Miss Hughes. We can make it clear you are physically and emotionally incapable of doing your job,” Webster continued. “You’re a liability to the PFD and a risk to the greater community if you remain in your position. It’s only a matter of time before someone gets hurt.”

  “Tossing around threats like confetti.” Paul shook his head as if the development disappointed him. “The judge will love this.”

  “I’m tossing out facts, Mr. Corrigan. You can’t argue with the video we have showing your client freezes in a crisis.”

  “There’s more than one angle,” Stephen began. “She didn’t freeze, you son of a—”

  “This case isn’t a popularity contest or a publicity exercise,” Paul interrupted. “I don’t believe this is an offer you make unless you see the writing on the wall as well as I do. Your client’s bizarre attempt to intimidate my client has put your case in jeopardy.”

  Stephen liked Kenzie’s lawyer more with every minute.

  Webster shifted his snooty gaze to Kenzie. “This settlement gives you a gracious exit from a difficult situation. Our client is only asking you to pay his legal fees. If our case moves forward the judgment against you will be financially devastating with legal fees, medical expenses, and pain and suffering factored in. And you’ll still be out of work.”

  “He’s bluffing,” Paul said to Kenzie. “Don’t give this a single thought.”

  Stephen agreed, though he managed to keep the opinion to himself.

  The Marburg attorney handed over the documentation to Paul. “Our offer in full detail,” he said. “It will remain open until the depositions begin.”

  He turned on his heel and left.

  Stephen, Kenzie and Paul waited in a tense silence until the sleek black car backed out of the yard and drove out of sight.

  “I’ll let you two talk,” Stephen said. He wanted to go pound something into dust. Dismantling the new rebuild would have to suffice.

  “Wait.” Kenzie caught his hand as he stalked by. “Stay, please?”

  He jerked his chin in a quick affirmative, letting her lace her slender fingers through his.

  Paul read through the settlement for them. It was remarkably brief, considering who had delivered it.

  Kenzie groaned at the stated legal fees. “It would take me years to pay that off at my firefighter pay. As a waitress? Not a chance.” She rolled her eyes. “And that doesn’t even count what I’d owe you.”

  “Everything is negotiable,” Paul reminded her.

  “Not her career,” Stephen stated. She squeezed his hand. “You both know she didn’t do anything wrong. The PFD investigation cleared her when the initial complaint came in. You need to focus on why Marburg is trying to force a settlement now.”

  “My office has been fielding calls all day,” Paul said. “Marburg controls the story in the public right now. If you’d give an interview we could—”

  “What about the gag order?” she asked.

  “No luck there,” he admitted.

  “I still won’t do it,” Kenzie said. “You said yourself it’s not a popularity contest. The PFD cleared me. Pandering to the public isn’t the answer to his harassment. I won’t sink to Murtagh’s level like we’re trapped in some twisted reality television show. If I shared all
the details of his rescue now, it would sound like I’m shaming the victim.”

  Knowing she was right didn’t make hearing it any easier. “Let Grant work the media and counter Marburg’s account of last night,” Stephen suggested.

  “What’s that?” Paul asked.

  “Grant Sullivan owns the Escape Club,” Kenzie explained. “He told me he sent the other eyewitness videos of the altercation to you. He has friends in the media.”

  “My assistant is working through it,” Paul said.

  Kenzie narrowed her gaze at Stephen. “When did you talk to Grant?”

  “You were picking up lunch,” he replied. To Paul he added, “As the club owner he can explain her response and lack of reaction better than she can.”

  “Good, good. So unless you’re interested in this sorry excuse for a settlement, I’ll move forward with deposition prep.”

  Although that should have reassured her, Kenzie continued to cling to Stephen’s hand and he felt the subtle tremble in her grasp. He stroked her finger with his thumb, trying to reassure her. “It will work out,” he said.

  “He lied in his initial complaint to the PFD,” she said absently, as if that detail was the only thing in her favor. “They discovered it, of course, but they didn’t pursue it according to the law, as a courtesy.”

  He knew she had plenty of valid reasons to be concerned, yet she was in the right and Murtagh was being a complete jerk with the civil case. “Marburg attorneys will sink as low as they need to in order to win a case,” Stephen grumbled. At her long look, he added, “With a singular exception.”

  Her lips twitched, tempting him to steal another kiss.

  Her lawyer rolled up the offer and tapped it against the desk. “Despite the lousy press and the blustering Webster, your case is solid, Kenzie. We’ll get through this.”

  “Thanks, Paul.”

  She escorted the lawyer to his car and Stephen returned to the work waiting for him in the shop. He watched Kenzie reenter the office, thinking she looked as if the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. Her dejected expression was all wrong, muting her normally friendly sparkle and tugging at her lovely mouth. It was outrageous that such a good person had to go through this kind of crap. Quips and platitudes about life and lemons, hardship and strength were useless to someone in the middle of the storm.

  He stalked into the office. “You have this under control.”

  “Thank you.” She curled forward, resting her head on her folded arms on the desktop. “I don’t think my life has ever been this out of control.”

  He thought about the inventory in the yard and the two open bays in the shop. “Come with me.”

  “Where?”

  He motioned for her to get up and follow him as he went out to the yard. “Choose one,” he said, when she came to a stop beside him, surveying the worn and shabby cars he and Mitch had picked up at the last auction.

  “What?”

  “You heard me.” He tucked his thumbs into his back pockets and waited.

  “I heard you, but you’re not making any sense,” she replied. “Choose a car for what?”

  “When we buy cars, Mitch and I do an initial inspection and create a basic plan and parts list. It’s tucked in the driver’s side visor. Go through the inventory here and choose the one you want to work on.” He started back to the shop.

  “Seriously?”

  He turned at the sharp tone and found himself on the business end of her annoyed gaze. “What did I say? You know this is what we do.”

  She waved the hand with the brace. “I’m not much use here.”

  “That’s temporary.” He stared her down. This was supposed to make her happy, and if happy was too much at the moment, he’d thought it would provide a good distraction. “Once you choose, you can move the car inside, take a closer look at it and get the parts ordered so we’re ready to go when that brace comes off.”

  She made a noise in her the back of her throat. “Stephen, come on.”

  “Would you rather I started some fires so you can put them out?”

  She sucked in a breath, her eyes blazing, and then she laughed, the sound rolling over him in waves that drained away all the tension of the past hour.

  “I’m sorry.” She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’m being an idiot.”

  He didn’t know what to do with his hands. He knew what he wanted to do. Stroking a palm over her braided hair and following her subtle curves from shoulder to hip probably wasn’t the right move between friends. He settled for awkwardly patting her shoulder.

  “Thank you.” She gave him a little squeeze and stepped back. “For last night and for today. And for rebuilding my car.”

  “You had that under control,” he said. A little grime from his shirt had transferred to hers. Hopefully, when she saw it, she’d remember she’d hugged him. “I just...” Just what? Trying to find a better explanation would only raise more questions about his feelings and intentions. He wasn’t ready to face those answers.

  “I’ll let you get back to work,” she said, moving toward the row of cars.

  “Would it help to get out of here?” The fence blocked the nosy media, but as she’d said, she wasn’t the type to hide from anything. “Later tonight.”

  She turned back, curiosity dancing in her vivid blue eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

  “There’s a drive-in theater. If you’re up for a short road trip.”

  “What’s showing?” she asked.

  He had no idea. “Does it matter?” It would be a complete change of pace for both of them, with a pleasant, relaxing drive on either end of it.

  “Not at all.” The grin on her face lit her up from head to toe. There, that was the energetic, conquer-the-world Kenzie he’d met last week.

  Telling himself he hadn’t just asked her out on a date, he went back to the shop to wrap up the one brake job he had left on the day’s schedule.

  Chapter 7

  The rest of the afternoon flew by and Kenzie knew it was all because Stephen had put her back on even footing and given her a much-needed distraction. He really was a good guy under the gruff attitude. Of course, he was a Galway, and she suspected it might be in the DNA Mr. and Mrs. Galway had passed down to their kids.

  She found herself able to concentrate on the details of supporting the garage and feeling useful in the process. After a long debate of the choices, she’d chosen to work on the 1966 Chevy Nova. Not her favorite of the classic muscle cars, but according to the paperwork, it was a relatively straightforward build. Though she’d been tempted by a Mustang fastback out there, knowing those were a favorite of Mitch’s she’d steered clear of it.

  When she’d pulled the Nova into the bay, Stephen had arched an eyebrow, then resumed his own work, making her wonder what he thought of her choice. Between calls for service appointments next week, she started searching for parts and pricing out what she thought it would take to restore the Nova. The time line could drag out and she wondered if Stephen would let her come by and stay involved on the project even after she returned to the PFD.

  She would return to the PFD.

  The scents and sounds of a working garage soothed her more than she expected, even though she wasn’t out in the middle of it. There was comfort in this environment as memories of time with her father rolled through her mind.

  She hadn’t anticipated staying here on Stephen’s property or leaning on him this way. She was so grateful for how he made her feel included and valued during this ordeal. The idea of going through the ups and downs of the civil suit, of dealing with Murtagh’s antics while crashing in some anonymous motel room alone would have been overwhelming. Every time her lawyer mentioned working through the systems and processes she wanted to scream.

  If she’d faced the Marburg attorney’s intimidation on her own,
she might have caved to the pressure, or said something that would have made her lawyer’s job more difficult. Stephen had been a real friend, a steady, unflappable support when she’d most needed it.

  She booked a few more appointments for the next week, all basic maintenance she could help with as her hand healed. Anything to keep herself busy next week as Paul dealt with the depositions.

  Thinking about the evening ahead at the drive-in sent her mind back down memory lane. When she and her sister were little, their mother would pack sandwiches and their favorite junk food and cookies. To re-create that, Kenzie would need to make a grocery run. She glanced at the monitor that gave a view of the two media teams outside the gate. The idea of venturing out there beyond the privacy and security of Galway Automotive made her heart stutter. Who would have guessed reporters would mark the limit of her courage? She just couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not today.

  Though she was well aware tonight’s outing wasn’t a real date, she wanted to do something nice for him, as well. When he’d offered to help her last week, he couldn’t have known she’d be this much trouble. Right now, all she could give back were little gestures. Calling one of Stephen’s favorite delis, she placed an order for delivery and hid the food that arrived in the camper until they were ready to leave. Once she was back in her apartment, or back on shift where she had access to the firehouse kitchen, she would whip up something homemade.

  He delivered the last car and closed the gate behind another happy customer. She vacated the office so he could clean up, and when he knocked on the camper door, she had to stomp out all the tingles of desire that went rushing through her system. The casual cargo shorts and graphic T-shirt emblazoned with a vintage Camaro emphasized the lean build honed by long hours of work.

  “You ready?”

  She nodded, not trusting her voice. Grabbing the cooler and tote she’d packed, she followed him outside and stopped short.

  He was standing in front of a gorgeous convertible roadster in a gleaming midnight blue with a stunning white interior.

  “Holy cow,” she murmured. She was almost scared to put the cooler anywhere near it.