“Yes. The second one just hit theNew York Timesbest seller list.”
The bartender brought their wine and Nick motioned to a nearby table set up in the year-round sunroom. “Want to sit and tell me about your work?”
Her laugh was very feminine. And she was pretty with those green eyes and near-perfect complexion. “Never ask a writer to talk about her books. She won’t stop.”
He chuckled. It was a very male sound.
Noreen watched Nick as she told him about her novels. He listened,reallylistened, unlike some people who asked about her work but then their eyes glazed over while she described it.
When she finished, he said, “The one about the genetic manipulation sounds fascinating. I can buy it online, right?”
“Yes, but I can send you a copy.” She studied him. What the hell? “Or we could meet for dinner and I’ll bring you one.”
Nick stiffened. “That can’t happen, Noreen. You don’t know how sorry I am about it.”
Her brows rose. This wasn’t how men usually treated her. “I must have misunderstood your interest.”
“No, you didn’t. I’d like nothing more than to get to know you better, but you’re part of the lawsuit against Pax. Until that’s resolved, no date.”
“All I have to say about Paxton is that he was upset when he came to see me.”
“Marx Associates’ lawyers won’t see it as that simple.”
“It’s my understanding that no one disputes he made a mistake.”
“The lawsuit against him is for wrongful death. They’ll slant his state of mind as proof of negligence.”
“How will this all happen, Nick?”
“We’re in the discovery phase. We’re taking depositions.”
“Will I be deposed?”
“Yes. At that point, attorneys will question you. I’ll most likely have to…discredit you.”
She stilled. Memories threatened but she quelled them.
“I’m sorry, Noreen. Maybe after the suit…
She stood abruptly. “Afterward, I’ll probably hate you.”
She would. He’d portray her as a jilted lover or as a person just plain covering her own ass. Hewoulddiscredit her. She’d want nothing to do with him then! She should have known better than to even talk to the man.
* * *
Nick hit the ball hard and it slammed into the floor with a loud pop. His racquetball partner said, “Ace. Again.”
A half smile. Larry Stanton was a family law guy. He was mild-mannered and kind. At one point in his life, Nick might have been friends with him, but after Scotty’s death, he eschewed new friendships and let older ones fade.
Two of those had been his brothers.
Blanking his mind, he went back to the serving line and hit the ball hard. It bounced over Larry’s head, hit the back wall, then rocketed out of bounds. Where it died.
After the match ended, they grabbed some water and Larry said, “Want to sit and drink this?”
“No, I have to get showered and back to the office.”
The other man studied him. “You don’t want to be friends, do you, Nick?”
