Page 61 of Legal Passion
“He’s protecting his kid?” Simon said as if shocked at the prospect. And given how his con artist father had set him up to take the rap for their earlier cons, it was no wonder he would be shocked.
Stone was, too. His father had set up his mother to take the fall for some of his drug deals. Not that she hadn’t been complicit as well. He had no doubt that eventually his father would have had him selling drugs, too, if he hadn’t run away.
“You said the kid was the one cheating with the wife,” Ronan said and shook his head. “Can’t believe he’d protect him after that.”
If his own partners didn’t believe him, it was no wonder that Hillary hadn’t. Maybe he had been too hard on her.
And he realized that the sick hollow feeling in his stomach wasn’t just because he’d lost the case. It was because he’d lost Hillary.
* * *
Despite her victory, Hillary had that sick hollow feeling in her stomach that she’d feared she would have. She’d won the case, but she’d lost Stone. He’d seemed more devastated over the verdict than Byron Mueller had.
The press, of course, was having a field day with that. Stone’s handsome face was all over the news, the headlines reading Street Legal criminal attorney devastated to lose...two-million-dollar bonus.
That had been a low blow, even for her. She shouldn’t have included that. She closed out of the news browser on her computer. The office was quiet. Everyone else must have gone home. Nobody had offered to take her out for a drink to celebrate—maybe because her boss was furious she’d won. He’d wanted the victory for himself. And of course, it hadn’t helped that the press reports had said she was certain to get his job now.
She didn’t want his job, though. She wasn’t even certain she wanted the judgeship now. Stone might have been right that she was already too judgmental.
Not that she was, though.
Byron Mueller had to be guilty. A jury of his peers had convicted him. She’d had all the evidence.
But why did she suddenly feel as if she’d missed something? Then she realized what she missed:
Stone.
He was the person with whom she wanted to celebrate her victory. But that wasn’t possible when they were always on opposite sides. She was smart to have ended this thing—whatever it was—with him.
Sure, she’d fallen for him. But she’d get over it. Just like she’d gotten over the death of her mother and not seeing much of her father.
She stared at the cell phone she’d left sitting on her desk. A few law school friends had texted congratulations to her. Dwight hadn’t. She didn’t know if he was mad about the Stone thing or if he’d taken her advice and was trying complicated.
Would it work for him? It might. He didn’t have the history Hillary did. She knew it wouldn’t work for her. No. It was better that it had ended now with Stone before she’d gotten attached or something.
Not that she’d ever really been attached to anyone or anything.
But when knuckles rapped on her door, her heart jumped and warmed with hope. Was it Stone?
“Come in!” she called out, and she winced at the eagerness in her voice.
Maybe he hadn’t been as upset about losing as he’d looked. Maybe he’d realized that she was right, that his client was guilty.
When the door slowly opened, it wasn’t Stone standing there. She immediately recognized the young man from the photo the private investigator had taken and from court. He hadn’t taken the stand in his father’s defense. While his friend had testified that the two of them had been with him at the time of the murder, the kid hadn’t corroborated that testimony. She’d thought at the time that it was because the friend had perjured himself for the big payout Byron Mueller had given him.
Now she had a niggling feeling in her stomach that made her feel even sicker than she’d already been feeling.
It wasn’t unusual for a defendant’s family to seek her out after a verdict and request leniency. Or for her to somehow revert the verdict. Maybe that was why Kenneth Mueller was here. Maybe Stone had even sent him.
But usually he was more direct than that. Since she was, too, she asked, “Why are you here, Mr. Mueller?”
“Why are you?” he asked, and there was belligerence in his voice that made her nervous. She had a panic button under her desk, one that would alert security if she thought she was in danger.
Why hadn’t she used it that first night that Stone had come to her office? It would have saved her a lot of heartache. Because her heart was aching now.
“I thought you’d be out celebrating your big victory over billionaires and Stone Michaelsen,” he sniped at her as he dropped onto one of the chairs in front of her desk.
“Looks like you’ve been celebrating enough for both of us,” she mused as she noted his red eyes. Had he been drinking or using?
