Anything You Can Do(10)



He stared at her uncomprehendingly for a moment. Why did she have an interest in that case? She wasn't the assigned attorney. And why had she said it was important? It appeared to be relatively insignificant. He'd decided, after going through the deposition with Mark Powell today, that Mark was competent enough to handle it. The boy could use a few lessons on power techniques, but power hadn't seemed necessary in that instance. After Bailey's remark, though, he'd have to keep an eye on that deal.

"Makes sense to me," he finally said, deliberately being as evasive as possible. Not the answer she'd wanted, he could tell. Her eyes narrowed and her lips compressed slightly.

"Of course, one never knows the full magnitude of any situation until all the facts are out in the open."

What on earth was she talking about? "Volcanoes frequently erupt with very little warning." There. That should give her something to think about.

"And how was your day, Gordon?" Gordon interrupted. "Oh, the usual. I won a case in Supreme Court, wrote a lease that Larry Haynes liked on the first draft, and Stafford Morris told me I'm a great lawyer. Just your average Monday."

"Aren't you getting enough attention?" Bailey asked, wrapping a long, slim arm around his neck.

With a shock, the idea hit Austin that Bailey and Gordon might be lovers. Impossible! Gordon had never mentioned it, and besides, how could anyone so easy going be attracted to someone so pushy? Though she actually looked soft as she kissed Gordon's cheek, those enormous eyes half-closed, her full lips pursed.

Gordon smiled smugly. "Are you taking notes?" he asked. "How to get a beautiful woman's attention."

"Gordon," Bailey said, laughing and pushing him away, "if you weren't my friend, I wouldn't even like you." "

They weren't lovers, Austin decided with an inexplicable rush of relief.

*~*~*

Friday afternoon Bailey was working frantically on a project that had to go out with the Federal Express pickup at six when Gordon strolled into her office and flopped into a chair.

"What's up?" she asked, never lifting her eyes from the papers strewn across her desk, tactfully letting him know she didn't have time to talk.

"TGIF, Bailey, my friend. What's on your agenda for the weekend?"

"Not much. Paula's moving in tomorrow."

"Don't tell me you're taking Saturday off."

Bailey looked up briefly to smile. "What an imagination you have."

"So your friend's going to be stuck by herself in a strange city, unloading furniture and heavy boxes."

Bailey looked up again. Gordon had swung one leg over the arm of his chair and was helping himself to a mint from the jar on her desk.

"What is this, Gordon?" she asked. "Are you strapped for entertainment? Are all your girlfriends out of town for the weekend? Are you hinting for an invitation? Okay. Paula's storing her furniture, but why don't you go over and help her unload boxes, and when I get there, we'll all have pizza and beer and watch TV. Now go away and let me work."

Gordon rose with a sigh, returning the candy jar to her desk. "I'm a busy man, but no one could resist such a gracious invitation. I'll baby-sit Paula and Samantha until you make it home then keep you girls company for the rest of the evening."

Bailey smiled to herself as Gordon strolled away. His friendship meant a lot to her, and she was glad he and Paula seemed to get along so well. She'd try a little harder to get along with his friend Austin. The guy wasn't all bad. He was, after all, a good runner with great legs.

And wouldn't he be surprised when she showed up at that deposition on Monday. That whole situation was still a mystery to her. After going over the entire file and Candy Miller's deposition, she could see no reason for Austin's intrusion into the case, or for that matter, her own. Except something was going on, and she owed it to her firm to find out what.

But that was Monday. She pushed aside the pleasurable anticipation. Right now she had to finish the blasted contract.

*~*~*

When Bailey arrived home early Saturday afternoon, she noticed several cardboard boxes in the spare room but no bodies. Even Samantha was gone. However, stuck to the refrigerator door she found a small, yellow note with the single word Pool scrawled in Gordon's inimitable handwriting.

As she started to leave the room, she spotted a newspaper lying on the kitchen counter, folded over to the classifieds, with one ad circled in red.

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