Unbreakable (City Lights, #2)(20)

“Are you one of those, ‘you aren’t a complete woman unless you have kids’-type of people?”

“No, not at all.” Cory turned so that he was facing me head-on. “Kids or no kids, that doesn’t make a woman any less a woman. Doesn’t make her less of anything.” He shifted, his head cocked to the side as if he were studying me. “But you…It surprised me, is all. I had you pegged for a mom. Someday.” That crooked smile of his returned. “I’d make a terrible jury-picker, wouldn’t I?”

No, you’d do just fine. I sighed. “I’m sorry I got pissy with you.”

“You sure like to argue, don’t you?”

A retort came to mind but I laughed instead. “It’s in my job description. If I still have a job when I get out of here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember how I said the jury was in deliberations for a very important case? My most important case?”

He nodded.

“Well, they’re not sequestered. No doubt they’ve heard about my situation by now and if the defense attorney is any good—which I know he is—he’s going to ask the judge to declare a mistrial. He’ll argue that the jury might be overly sympathetic to me. Enough to sway their decision.”

“You think the other side would do that?”

“It’s what I’d do.”

“So, if you lose this case or it’s a mistrial or whatever, you’ll lose your job?”

I sighed. “Not really. It’ll just set me back. I’m hoping to be made partner at the firm I work for, and winning this trial would be my ace in the hole.”

Cory furrowed his brow. “Oh.”

“I mean, I’d have to start all over, practically from scratch,” I said quickly. “It would be a ton of work and I’d have to push back other potential suits and…” And why am I justifying myself to him? “Anyway, it’d be a lot of extra work.”

He nodded. The worry line was back.

“What about you?” I asked. “Is your boss going to give you a hard time for missing work? You’ve got a fool-proof alibi if he does.” I offered a smile he didn’t return.

“Yeah, and a new scar to prove it,” he said grimly. “No, it’ll be business as usual for the contractor I work for. It’s like pulling teeth to get him to pay me and when he does, it’s usually for a lot fewer hours than I actually worked.”

He sighed and toyed with the bloody rag in his hand.

“No, the real question is going to be with my landlord. He only takes rent in cash or cashier’s checks. Been burned before by bad tenants. That’s why I was at this bank. My boss waited until the last damn minute to pay me, so I had to try to cash the check right away to pay the rent. But thanks to being stuck in here, I’m going to miss the payment. I’m pretty sure I’ll have been evicted from my apartment by the time we get out of here.”

“Would he do that, your landlord? Even knowing the situation?” I asked, appalled.

“Oh yeah. He’s that type of guy. But that’s not the worst of it.”

“It’s not?”

He glanced at me sideways, as if deciding how much to tell me. Then he blew air out his cheeks and said, “Georgia wants to move to Sitka.”

“Sitka…Alaska?”

“That’s the one. If I don’t have a good enough residence for Callie when she visits me, the judge who handles all of our custody stuff will probably let Georgia move there. She’s got an aunt in Sitka, so she can plead extra help raising Callie.”

“I take it you don’t want to go.”

“It’s the last thing I want to do. No sun, no beach. Moreover, there’s no construction work there. Not like in L.A.” He dabbed his brow again, winced. “I work some nights as a bouncer for extra cash. I suppose I’d do that if I had to but it’s not much of a career.”

“So…if Georgia moves there, you will too?”

“Of course. For Callie.” He smiled ruefully. “So yeah, the monster squad couldn’t have picked a worse day to carry out their little heist. Or I picked the wrong bank.”

I sat for a moment, absorbing his story, feeling it seep into my gut. “Oh my god, you must think I’m terrible.”

He glanced up quickly. “What? Why?”

“You must think I’m a spoiled, selfish bitch.”

“I don’t think you’re spoiled—”

“No?” My hands twisted in my lap. The ridiculous diamond scratched my palm. I wanted to throw it across the room. “Here I am, whining about my trial…”

“Hey,” he said gently. “We all have our stuff, right?”

I looked up at him and for a few moments, the meeting room and the other hostages fell away. Neither ugly fluorescent lighting nor the gash over his eye could mar his beauty and or the softness with which he looked at me.

“I wish…” I began and had to swallow before continuing, “I wish I could help you in some way.”

He smiled that crooked, charming smile. “You already are.”

God, what did that mean? He was so close, I could see the tiny lines on his full lips and I wondered what it might feel like to touch those lips, to feel them sweep over mine and forget about this horrible, terrifying situation for a few stolen moments…