Page 28 of Legal Passion
Hillary felt another laugh bubble up in her throat. But she was afraid it might sound hysterical if she let it slip out. So she swallowed it down.
Dwight recognized Stone and held out his hand. “Mr. Michaelsen, it’s an honor to finally meet you.”
Stone stared at his hand for a long moment before clasping it tightly. So tightly that Dwight flinched. “We haven’t actually met,” he pointed out. “Who the...?” He swallowed hard as if choking down a curse. “Who are you?”
“Dwight Hanson,” her friend told Stone with all the eagerness of a little boy meeting his sports idol.
She hadn’t realized Stone was an idol to anyone. But it stood to reason that he might be to an ambitious lawyer like Dwight who struggled with making commitments. Of course, Dwight would envy Stone’s legendary success in the courtroom and the bedroom.
“I work at Swanson and Turner,” Dwight said. “I have cited so many of your cases when I’ve been arguing mine.”
“How’s that worked out for you?” Stone asked.
Dwight’s pale skin flushed. “Well, the judges have pointed out that I’m not you.”
Hillary didn’t need a judge to point that out to her. But it had never been more obvious than it was now when the two men stood side by side.
“Still, it’s a gutsy move to use my court cases in your arguments,” Stone acknowledged.
Dwight beamed with pride that he’d received a compliment from his idol. “Thank you so much for that. I’d love to talk to you more about the Rapier murder trial. It didn’t seem like there was any way Rapier wasn’t going to prison for the rest of his life.”
“He should have,” Hillary said. That was one of the cases she’d lost to Stone, one that still bothered her. Stone had used battered-husband syndrome in his defense. Rapier’s wife had been abusive but she still hadn’t deserved to die—as Stone had implied.
“He’d already suffered enough through twenty-five years of marriage to a person who physically and mentally and emotionally not just abused but destroyed him, his spirit, his soul, his will to even live,” Stone said, repeating a line verbatim from his closing argument.
Hillary glared at him while Dwight applauded. “That was amazing.”
“Thank you,” Stone said and lowered his head in a slight bow.
Hillary considered telling them to get a room and closing her door. But it was so good to see Stone, especially as he was now. Like her, he wasn’t wearing a suit. He was dressed casually in jeans and a soft silvery-gray cashmere sweater that nearly matched his eyes. Or it would have had his eyes been the lighter color they usually were. But they were dark now, the pupils dilated as he looked away from Dwight and focused on her.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Dwight said. “You must be here to talk to Larry.”
“Larry?” Stone repeated and peered around Hillary as if expecting that she had another man inside her apartment already.
She nearly laughed again at the expression on his face. His skin flushed, and his nostrils flared. It was almost as if he was jealous. But that was ridiculous.
“We’ve called Hillary that since law school,” Dwight said. “There’s nothing girlie about her.”
Well, so much for Stone being jealous.
He turned back toward Dwight and arched a brow as if incredulous. “Are you blind, man?” he asked him. “Everything about her is girlie.”
Now she was offended. “What?”
Dwight snorted. “Sure, she looks like a girl, but she fights like a man.”
And that was why she and Dwight were friends. It wasn’t just for the uncomplicated sex. It was because he understood her.
“She hits below the belt,” Stone agreed.
“And she’ll do anything to win,” Dwight said. And as he said it, he glanced back and forth between them. His brow puckered as if he was wondering how far Hillary had already gone with Stone.
Too far.
Too damn far...
