Mother May I(22)

His easy conversation had put me more at ease than the alcohol did. He always put me at ease. If Trey were with me now, my job would already be done.

I found a round hub for multiple hallways that I’d seen before and spun slowly, close to despair. I had less than twenty minutes. I caught a flash of movement down one of the narrow paths. I hurried along it, and the familiar shape of Spencer Shaw, his back to me, emerged from the deep shadows at the end.

He had a mostly empty rocks glass in one hand, and he was talking to someone. His big body blocked my view, so I sidestepped, pushing into the plants. It was Gabrielle Baxter, a second-year associate. A standout in the newer hires, according to Trey, destined for the partner track.

She was also very pretty, with warm tones shining in her rich, brown skin, wide-set eyes, and a full mouth. Right now that mouth was twisted into the fakest smile I’d ever seen. Her gaze met mine over Spencer’s shoulder, and I read a certain desperation there.

“Spence!” I said, too loud, as if I were tipsy and clueless. He startled, and as he turned toward me, I saw him pull his other hand off her waist. “And Gabrielle! You guys having fun?”

“Yes. It’s a great party,” Gabrielle said, but her eyes stayed locked on mine. In a language every woman spoke, she was asking me not to leave.

“Bree!” Spence said, smiling. “How’s my best guy’s best girl?”

He was bluff and hearty, but I had interrupted something that smelled an awful lot like a lawsuit. I was honestly surprised. When another local firm had been nearly destroyed by a series of harassment lawsuits, he’d said, “Even I know better than to shit where I eat,” in his typical vulgar fashion.

At the same time, I was almost glad. I was going to drug him, after all, and let the daughter get whatever she needed out of him. Information, documents, some kind of an admission—I had no idea. It might cost Spence and my husband their big case. It could even cost Spence his law license. But even if it hurt Trey or crashed the whole firm and we lost everything, even if we had to move in with his chilly parents, I didn’t care. Not considering the stakes. But it did make my job a little easier, to find Spence being such a predatory asshole.

I said to Gabrielle, “I’m glad I ran into you. Rick Janeway is looking for you.”

Her smile was grateful. Rick was her direct supervisor. “I better go see what he needs. Please, excuse me?”

Spence didn’t move, so she had to scrape her body past his. The contact set her mouth in an angry line.

As soon as she was gone, I whispered, “What was that, Spence?”

He had the grace to look a little bit embarrassed. “What was what?”

I gave him mom eyebrows, stern but much more loving than I felt toward him. As if he were being nothing more than naughty. “I think you know.”

He shrugged, faux sheepish. A boy with his hand in a cookie jar. “I was flirting. I’m six inches from single, so what’s the harm?”

“You’re her boss, for starters.” Still not stern. More amused, though I wanted to smack him. Gabrielle was talented, but he was a named partner and a rainmaker. In a he said/she said, the firm’s bottom line would listen to him. At the very least, he owed her an apology. But I had to get him in the mood to have a friendly drink with me, and quickly. Something irreplaceable, more precious than a woman’s career or dignity, was at stake here. A life. Robert’s life.

He blew out air like a frustrated horse. “Yeah. I know. I do know better. I was talking about the divorce, and she was being sympathetic. . . .” His ruddy cheeks flushed deeper red.

This felt like an opening. “Well, nothing happened, really. Let’s have a drink and forget it.” If the mother had her way, he would forget a lot of things tonight. And she was going to have her way. I pulled the flask out. “I packed a little of Trey’s Pappy. I have a shot left. . . .” I shook it, tempting him with the slosh of it.

Spence blinked owlishly at the flask, and I realized he was drunker than I’d thought. He carried it well, I had to give him that. I held the flask out, my heart hammering, willing him to make this easy. But he shook his head. I paused, surprised and instantly afraid. I’d never seen Spence turn down a drink, least of all a truly high-end bourbon.

“I better not. Was I really out of line with her?”

“Yes,” I said truthfully, before I could think better of it. Telling him the truth was the wrong way to get him to keep drinking.

“Shit. It’s been a day. I had to meet with Charlotte and her lawyer, and she’s being an unmitigated bitch.” His mouth crumpled. His eyes looked wet. “Divorce is the worst damn thing. You don’t know. You and Trey are lucky.”

I wanted to scream at him as he rambled that no, we weren’t. I wanted to pinch his nose shut until his mouth popped open and I could pour the bourbon in.

Instead I shrugged, casual. “It’s a party. Forget about it. I bet she already has. She was drinking, too. Here, hold out your glass.” I started unscrewing the cap.

He waved it away. “I really better not. I think I’m in bad shape, and I have yet to check in on half my clients. God. I better get to it. People are going to start leaving soon.” He shook his head, then moved to go past me.

“Wait,” I said, desperate. I grabbed his arm. “Want to sober up, fast? I can help with that. I have these pills . . .” The lie came out of nowhere.