“Okay.” Brady smooched Jane’s cheek then skipped out of the room, evidently pleased with her weekend plans.
As soon as the door closed behind her, Georgia placed a hand on her hip.
“I don’t believe you—about the case, I mean. We both know you’re salty because you wanted to go all Law & Order on the FBI for the shoddy way they handled it.”
The feds had made a mess of Valentine’s case, and their evidence was entirely circumstantial.
“Maybe.” Georgia had been in the courtroom with her hundreds of times and knew Jane well. “They wasted resources on Mr. Valentine and the murderer’s still at large.”
“The FBI botched it, but they got their man. You still think he’s innocent, don’t you?”
Jane bit the inside of her cheek. “Yes, but it’s a moot point now. The grand jury declined to indict, and he’s signing the last of the paperwork tonight.”
“Speakin’ of criminals.” Georgia snapped her fingers. “You got another message from him.” She handed Jane a note.
Byron Beauregard wanted her to pick up some paperwork this evening. Apparently, he couldn’t wait for it to be mailed or couriered over to her office.
He was always inventing reasons to see her and refused to work with another lawyer at her firm. Jane found the mobster’s blatant romantic overtures irksome. The last time Beauregard had invited her over on a professional pretext, she’d found herself at a ball—as his date.
Unfortunately, the partners were intent on keeping such a wealthy client happy, so they’d assigned Jane to his account, despite her protests. At least she’d gotten credit for bringing him to the firm, even if she wanted nothing to do with the man.
According to Georgia, Beauregard “wanted to jump her bones.” Jane avoided sex and romantic entanglements these days.
“You gonna see him tonight?” Georgia fluttered her eyelashes and pursed her mouth into a pucker.
“Yes, to collect the paperwork.” Even thinking about being alone with the mobster gave her a headache.
“Sounds very promisin’—a late night meeting.” She licked her lips. “I think it’s high time you started datin’ again.”
“I assure you this isn’t a social call. I’m trying to maintain appropriate professional boundaries between myself and Mr. Beauregard.” Despite his best efforts to the contrary. “Here’s a question for you—according to the American Bar Association, a lawyer isn’t allowed to have a sexual relationship with a client unless…?”
They often had bar exam pop quizzes.
Georgia sighed. “Unless they had a consensual sexual relationship before their client-attorney one, but a lot of people disregard the guideline.”
“I’m not one of them.”
“Yet, you’re havin’ dinner with Oscar Valentine tonight.”
The partners had emphasized “the personal touch” at Jane’s last performance review. Apparently, successful law firms were built on relationships, so she’d promised to be more open and genial with clients, though she didn’t see the point. Clients hired Jane for her prowess in the courtroom, not her social graces.
“I’m having a business meeting over dinner with Valentine. And whatever Beauregard has in mind, it isn’t work-related. At least Valentine respects appropriate boundaries.”
Georgia snorted. “I’ll be glad when you put this case to bed. If Valentine needs legal help, and I’m bettin’ he will, he can work with another lawyer. Maybe the goon in the corner office with the huge, veiny neck.”
“Mr. Andrews likes to work out.” Her lips twitched.
“Yeah, with the help of anabolic steroids. Maybe we’ll get lucky, and he’ll ‘Hulk out’ on Valentine.”
“Don’t start.”
They’d had this argument several times. After meeting him the first time, Georgia had urged her to be careful around Valentine.
“I can’t help it. The guy gives me the willies.” As if to emphasize her point, she rubbed her arms, like she’d taken a chill. “I hate the way he looks at me, like I’m a juicy steak on a plate. And don’t get me started on the way he stares at you....”
“Which way?”
“Like he’s Tarzan, and you’re…well, you.”
Jane rolled her eyes. It wasn’t the first King of the Jungle joke she’d heard.
“Aren’t you worried about me socializing with Beauregard too?”
“No, because he ain’t a serial killer, and you should do a lot more than socialize with him.”
Byron Beauregard was rumored to be an Underboss in the northern Texas branch of the Dixie Mafia. As a defense attorney, Jane often did business with people who may have committed a crime, but Beauregard was blatant about his disregard for the law, even though he’d never been held accountable. Sooner or later the mobster’s luck would run out, and the feds would make a RICO case against the Dixie Mafia. She’d seen it happen countless times. The Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act had tripped up many a Mafioso since it was first implemented.