Bad Behavior(80)

I saw my chance and took it. "I'd love some sweet tea-"

Mr. Granade gripped my wrist behind the reception desk. "No. We're good. Thanks, Carla. You're one in a million."

She picked up her receiver and began to dial.

Mr. Granade squeezed my wrist and let it go before turning and gesturing to the nearest conference room. "After you, Ms. Montreat." His mouth was a thin line of disapproval.

As soon as the door closed behind us he said, "Didn't I mention that you were not to speak the entire time we're here?"

"I was just being polite." I stared at his nose-brave enough to look him in the face, just not in the eye.

"No, you weren't." He lowered his voice. "Carla is an extremely helpful ally. Get your head in the game or I'll find an associate who will. Now take a seat and don't say another word."

Asshole. I met his eyes then, and shot mental daggers into them, before walking around the table and sitting. He smoothed his tie, though it was still as pressed and perfect as it had been when I'd first seen him this morning. He didn't sit, just leaned against the wall and looked at his watch.

The silence stretched out between us as we waited, and waited, and then waited some more. I wanted to play on my phone or start a conversation, but I'd be damned if I was going to crack and say another word to him. And I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of getting on me for playing Candy Crush instead of remaining stone-faced like him.

It took a full forty-five minutes before the door opened and Matt walked in. He had a disc and a manila folder under one arm.

"Sorry to run late, Wash. Just had trouble getting this CD made, is all." He dropped the items on the table and winked at me. His sandy blond hair was cropped short, and he had brown eyes a couple of shades lighter than my own. A handsome man, though nothing even close to Mr. Granade in the looks department.

"Funny how every time I come here like this, you're late." Mr. Granade still leaned against the wall, but he was no longer relaxed.



       
         
       
        

"You mad?" Matt grinned.

"No. Worse." Mr. Granade stood straight and squared his shoulders. He had more than a few inches on Matt. "I'm inconvenienced. Some of us have to actually work for our clients, not twiddle our thumbs at our desks on the State's dime."

"I'll keep that in mind the next time one of your dirtbag clients makes a mess I have to clean up on the State's dime."

I'm sure my gaze went back and forth as if they were playing a tennis match. I wanted Mr. Granade to win, but it would be more than a little interesting if the two of them got into a tussle, on the floor . . . over me.

"You lose your manners on the trip over here, Wash?" Matt turned to me and offered his hand. "Who's this?"

I shook his hand and returned his stare.

"That's my associate."

"I gathered that." Matt pulled out the chair across from me and sat. "What's your name?"

"Caroline Montreat." I could feel Mr. Granade's gaze lasering into the side of my head.

"I'm Matt Turnbull. Nice to meet you. When did you graduate law school? You look mighty young."

"Last year."

He slid his gaze down my body, lingering at the neckline of my red blouse beneath my suit jacket. "Young. I like it."

"Matt, that's enough." Mr. Granade loomed over him.

"I was just making her acquaintance, is all. Same way you made Fawn's." Matt leaned back and smiled like the cat who got the canary.

"How is your wife, by the way, Matt?"

"She's fine." He drummed his fingers on the table, his eyes still on me. "Still mine. Thanks for asking."

What had I just walked into? Matt's gaze slid south again, and I fidgeted in my chair.

Mr. Granade picked up the manila file folder and the CD. "This everything?"

"Everything I'm required to give you, yes it is."

"I have your word?"

"That's all I got except for the stuff locked away at the sheriff's office. You can go fetch that yourself, can't you? How about you just walk the block over there and I'll keep Caroline company while you're gone. Show her how a real lawyer does business." He smiled. I wanted to wipe the look right off his face with the bottom of my shoe.

Mr. Granade came around the table and offered me his hand. "Come on, Ms. Montreat. Time to go."

I took it and rose, feeling more awkward than anything else.

"Sure you don't want to stay here, Caroline?"

I knew I wasn't supposed to talk. I knew it. I did it anyway. "And learn how to creep on younger associates? No thanks. I can get that lesson better elsewhere."