Maverick vs. Maverick Page 10

  But she wasn’t hearing him. She was already fastened and together and at the door. “I’ll see you in court tomorrow, Mr. Jones.”

  Mr. Jones. That was enough to tell him she was through with him.

  Hudson’s eyes widened when Lindsay opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

  “Leaving. Which is something I should have done a while ago.” She brushed past him and down the hall. She never turned back, never gave Walker a second glance.

  * * *

  The rain pattered softly against the windows of the kitchen, like thousands of tiny feet racing down the glass. Lindsay sat in the dark of the house where she’d grown up, eating two generous slices of apple pie. With ice cream. And whipped cream.

  “Uh-oh. Must have been a bad day.”

  She turned at the sound of Ben Dalton’s voice. The moonlight outside illuminated his tall, lean frame. “Hi, Dad. Just nervous about tomorrow.” There was no way she was going to tell her father that she was trying to erase her feelings for Walker Jones with sugar and fat. Besides, it wasn’t working very well. Her chest still ached, and her brain kept reminding her that she’d been a fool for trusting that man for five seconds.

  He’d set her up. Betrayed her. She dreaded court tomorrow, and Walker’s lawyer telling the judge that she’d been having a relationship with Walker. She’d been so wrong about him, so wrong about everything. Walker had sweet-talked her and convinced her he was interested, then set up Hudson’s appearance.

  She’d never imagined Walker would stoop so low just to win a case. Or that she could be so stupid to trust the man on the other side of the courtroom.

  Her father switched on the small light above the sink, casting the room in a golden glow, then took a seat on the opposite side of the table. He’d developed a little more gray hair and a few more wrinkles in recent years, but he was still the same kind, wise, patient man she’d always loved. The same man who had inspired her to go into law, to fight for the underdog, just as he had done all his life. “You’re going to do fine,” he said. “You’re prepared, and you have a strong case. And you’re on the side of right.”

  “I’m not so sure about that.” She finished the last forkful of pie and pushed the plate to the side. “There is no one event or item to pin this RSV outbreak on. Yes, all the kids attended the same day care, but I don’t have an actual definable cause.”

  “You have enough circumstantial evidence,” her father said. “And that will weigh heavily in the judge’s mind.”

  The closer she got to Tuesday morning, the less Lindsay believed she had what she needed to convince the judge. Maybe she shouldn’t have promised the Marshalls that she could deliver justice to them for poor baby Georgina. Maybe she shouldn’t have agreed to the speedier bench trial, and instead taken her chances with a jury trial. There were a thousand what-ifs that tortured Lindsay. Problem was, she couldn’t change or undo any of her decisions. All she could do was try her best on Tuesday.

  She looked down at the remains of her pie. All the sugar and carbs and she didn’t feel any better than when she’d walked in the door. Damn that man for having a nice smile. And a sexy voice. And amazing kissing skills.

  A little doubt tickled at the back of her mind. Maybe Hudson’s appearance tonight had been a coincidence, not a setup.

  “There’s one other thing...” Lindsay rested her palms atop one another. “I’ve talked to Walker Jones a few times and I’m not so sure he’s the kind of guy who would run a shoddy day care.”

  There. She’d said it out loud. The Walker she had met seemed far from the man she’d imagined—one who protected the bottom line above the children. That was the man she’d been expecting to meet in court last week, the monster she’d created in her mind.

  But the real Walker Jones III was far from that man. Either he was very, very good at acting or truly a decent man at his core. Or she was just a naive woman too blind to see the truth.

  Her father arched a brow. “You’ve talked to the man you are suing?”

  “He was volunteering for the festival prep events. We ended up working together on a couple of things—”

  Ben put up his hands. “Whoa. You shouldn’t be doing that. You’re involved in a lawsuit against him.”

  “I know, I know.” She sighed. “It happened by accident, really, and then I thought it would be an opportunity to see what makes him tick and maybe use that in court. But...” Her voice trailed off. She glanced at the empty pie plate. Maybe two pieces hadn’t been enough to bury her regrets. She should have had three.

  “You ended up liking him a little,” her dad said, his voice quiet in the dim room.

  She nodded, and her eyes stung a little. “Which is why I’m eating a lot of pie in the middle of the night.” Not just because she’d ended up liking Walker, but because she had almost slept with him. And moreover, wanted to sleep with him even now, even after everything.

  She needed more pie. Definitely.

  Her father reached out and laid a hand on hers. “I understand. That’s happened to me more than once, where I ended up liking someone I was going up against in court.”

  “It has?”

  “Yup. Makes suing someone hard, I’ll tell you. You develop a soft spot, and if there’s one thing you can’t show in court, it’s a soft spot.” Her father got to his feet, cut a slice of pie for himself, then returned to the table. It was a small sliver, because her mother would be upset if he ate too many sweets, but he’d never been able to resist her rustic apple pie. “I remember one case in particular. Remember Ronnie Hanson?”

  She thought a second. “He came to you about a wrongful termination, right?”

  “Yup. He worked at AJ’s Bookstore for going on fifteen years. Never late, hardly ever called in sick. One day, AJ just up and fired him. No notice, no real cause. So Ronnie came to me to ask about getting some kind of severance pay from AJ, plus the last paycheck that AJ hadn’t given him. He didn’t want to sue at first, but when AJ didn’t answer any of my calls or letters, we got ready to go to court.”

  “I vaguely remember this,” Lindsay said. “I was a little girl then, wasn’t I?”

  “Yup. Maybe five or six. Your mom, in support of Ronnie, told me she was going to stop shopping at AJ’s store. Come to find out, he’d closed it already and was getting ready to leave town.” Ben shook his head. “I was madder than a hornet in a beehive, thinking that AJ was trying to short Ronnie again. So I marched over to AJ’s house and demanded he talk to me.”

  “Did he?”

  Her father nodded. “We talked for four hours that day. I’d known AJ, of course, from seeing him around town, but only knew him casually. He was the kind of guy that kept to himself most days anyway. But that day, maybe he needed someone to talk to, or maybe he just wanted to explain, but he invited me in. Sat me down at his kitchen table with some coffee and some pie, just like you and I are doing right now, and started talking. By the time we were done, we’d moved on to pizza and beer—and become good friends.”

  Her father had always been an aboveboard, conscientious lawyer. She couldn’t imagine him making the same mistake as she had and befriending the person on the other side of the courtroom. “How did that happen?”

  “AJ told me why he fired Ronnie, why he hadn’t sent out the last check yet. Why he was leaving town. As a father, I could understand, and that made my heart go out to him.” Her father took a bite of pie, chewed it and swallowed. “Damn, your mother makes an incredible apple pie, doesn’t she?”

  “That’s why it’s won ribbons at the county fair.” And was the best thing to soothe a stressed newbie lawyer.

  Her father took another bite, smiled at the taste, then finished his story. “Turns out AJ had a son with another woman, one he met way before his wife. He hadn’t seen much of his son in years. You know how those things go, content
ious custody and all that.”

  Lindsay nodded. “And more often than not, it’s the kids who end up suffering.”

  “Well, his son had been injured in a car accident, really badly. The kind of thing that would need months of rehab. Expensive rehab. This was AJ’s only child—him and Beverly never did have kids of their own. So AJ did the only thing he knew to do—cashed in his business and moved to Albuquerque to be there for his son. His son healed, grew up, got married and had a son of his own. Last I heard, the two of them were planning a weeklong fishing trip and taking along AJ’s grandson.”

  This was part of why she loved her father and wanted to be like him. He was a warm, caring and patient man who had always looked for the best in people. If he met Walker Jones, what would her father think of the driven CEO? “That’s awesome.”

  Ben nodded. “And if I had sued AJ like I wanted to, there wouldn’t have been much money left for his son’s medical care. The stress alone might have given AJ a heart attack. When I saw him, he was a hair away from a nervous breakdown, because he was so worried about his son.”

  “So how did you settle things with Ronnie?”

  “Well, once I got him calmed down—you know Ronnie, he can get as worked up as an elephant in a roomful of mice—he listened to what I had to say about AJ. I explained the situation and suggested to Ronnie that he—”

  “Buy the store,” Lindsay finished. She remembered this story now. She’d known Ronnie her whole life, but had forgotten how he came to be the proud owner of the local bookstore.

  “Ronnie loved that place almost as much as AJ did. He got a mortgage, paid AJ what he needed, minus that last check as a compromise, then took the place over and made quite a go of it. He’s still there, every single day, stocking shelves and recommending novels to customers.”

  “A win all around,” Lindsay said.

  Her father covered her hand with his own. He’d always been in her corner, always been there for her, for all the kids. “Exactly. Now if you can find one of those for this lawsuit you’re in, then maybe that’ll bring the Marshalls some peace and bring that smile of yours back to your face.”

  She tried to smile now, but the gesture fell flat. “Thanks, Dad.”

  He nodded, then got to his feet. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being married, it’s that there is no winning when it comes to the people you care about. There’s only compromise. And sometimes, sweetheart, that’s what you have to do in court, too. Because when it comes down to it, this isn’t really about lawsuits and judgments. It’s about people. Just remember that, and you’ll always steer your ship along the right course.”

  She sat in the kitchen long after her father had gone to bed, thinking about lawsuits and courses and making the best decision for everyone. And stories that seemed one way on the surface, but were different when you looked up close for the truth. By the time the clock ticked past midnight, Lindsay didn’t have any answers. Just a lot more questions—that she hoped would be answered in a court of law in the morning.

  Chapter Eight

  Walker parked his rental car in the courtroom lot, thirty minutes before he was due to be inside. He started scrolling through his phone, ignoring the texts from his father reminding him to step up, be a man and squash this lawsuit, when a familiar car pulled into the space beside him.

  Hudson got out, then rapped on Walker’s passenger side window. Walker unlocked the doors, and Hudson slid into the seat beside him. “I wanted to apologize for last night. I was pissed and drunk, and should have handled that better.”

  “Yeah, you should have. If you wanted to discuss something with me, you should have scheduled a time when we could talk calmly and rationally.”

  Hudson shook his head. “You know, I just apologized. And now you’re sounding just like Dad. Schedule a time, Walker? Seriously?”

  “I’m just saying—”

  “No. You’re just criticizing.” Hudson let out a gust. “I know I’m not perfect, but neither are you. What happened to the brother I used to know?”

  “I’m still your brother.”

  “No, Walker, you’re not. You’re this stranger who only cares about business, and not about people. I realize I let you down with the day care, and I am sorry for that. And I will work hard to try and make it up to you—to myself, even. But it’s not like I was sitting in a bar, drinking away the days. I was building a life for myself, for my friend. A life separate from the almighty Jones Holdings.”

  Walker readied a retort, then stopped himself. He thought back to his words, to his actions. He had been treating Hudson more like an employee than a brother. Which was exactly the way his father treated him, only with impossible expectations. “I’m sorry. But you have to understand—”

  “And there you go again, right back to justifying the way you treat me. One of these days, you’re gonna look around and realize you have nothing except a cold, impersonal business.” Hudson let out a long sigh. “Despite everything, you’re still my brother, Walker, even if you are as uptight as a squirrel in a straightjacket.” He opened the car door. “See you inside.”

  Walker watched Hudson walk away, and wondered if they’d ever have a relationship again. Maybe he’d been a fool for trying to combine business with family, because it seemed all it had done was drive a wedge between the two of them. After this lawsuit was over, Walker vowed to try harder to be a brother to Hudson, not a boss.

  A few minutes later, Walker sat in the same courtroom, flanked once again by his lawyer, Marty. Instead of arguing a motion to get the case thrown out, they were in trial, defending Just Us Kids Day Care against Lindsay Dalton and the Marshalls. Marty was reviewing his notes, waiting for the judge’s arrival.

  Walker, on the other hand, was awaiting Lindsay’s arrival. That alone was a sign he needed to get the hell out of this town. Since when did his interest in a woman supersede work?

  Maybe since he’d met a woman who could stand toe to toe with him. A woman who could make him laugh and drive him crazy, all at the same time. A woman who intrigued and tempted him.

  The door opened, and Walker pivoted to watch Lindsay stride into the courtroom. She barely flicked a glance in his direction, as if she hadn’t even noticed he was there. But he noticed her. Hell, his entire body noticed her.

  She was wearing a dark navy suit with a silky lavender blouse. She had her hair back in a clip, a few stray tendrils curling down the slender valley of her neck. She had a briefcase in one hand, a stack of files in thick expandable folders on her other arm and a serious, stony expression on her face.

  The Marshalls followed Lindsay, and the three of them took a seat at the plaintiff’s table. The grandmother came in next, with a sleepy baby Georgina in her arms. A few other people—witnesses for the plaintiffs, Walker assumed—took seats in the gallery.

  “Don’t worry,” Marty said, following the path of Walker’s gaze and clapping a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to make sure this small-town lawyer knows better than to mess with a company like yours. She’s going to run out of here with her tail between her legs. I’m going to crucify her.”

  Any other day, hearing those words from Marty would reassure Walker. That was what he wanted to see in his attorney—confidence and a cutthroat, take-no-prisoners approach. But today, the words churned in Walker’s gut. They reminded him of Hudson’s accusation that Walker was a copy of their father. “You know, she’s got good intentions. Let’s go a little easy on her.”

  Marty arched a brow. “What? Are you going soft on me now? I know I was feeling a little shaky myself on Friday, but I’m confident we can win this case, and win it well. That lawyer won’t dare to come after you again.”

  Judge Andrews entered the courtroom. They all got to their feet and waited until the judge sat. “We have the trial scheduled today for Marshall v. Just Us Kids Day Care. Are
counsel ready to proceed?”

  “Yes, Your Honor,” Lindsay said, “ready for the plaintiffs.”

  “The defendant is ready,” Marty said.

  The judge nodded toward Lindsay as Marty returned to his seat. “Very well, we’ll proceed with opening statements. Ms. Dalton.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor.” She stood and launched into her prepared comments.

  Walker heard her voice but none of what she said registered on him; he was too busy looking at the woman and noticing how the suit hugged the curves he’d run his hands over last night.

  “It is our position that the defendant’s negligence caused an outbreak of respiratory syncytial virus at the Just Us Kids Day Care center,” she intoned. But again, Walker zoned out, his eyes drifting down to her shapely calves highlighted by the heels she wore. Only when he heard her speak his name did he drag his attention back to her eyes.

  “...Mr. Jones, the owner of the center, failed to correct the dilatory hygiene practices within the center. For that reason, Just Us Kids Day Care Center should be responsible for the sizable medical bills that the Marshalls incurred as a result of the center’s negligence. Thank you, Your Honor.”

  She nodded, then took her seat. She never once looked Walker’s way or even acknowledged him. He wanted to send up a smoke signal or pass her a note or something that said I’m sorry.

  And while he was at it, he’d apologize for his brother’s interruption last night, too. Hudson had shown up at Maverick Manor at the worst possible time. Now Walker just wanted a chance to explain, to tell Lindsay it hadn’t been a setup, and that he truly was interested in her.

  Judge Andrews turned to Marty. “Mr. Peyton?”

  Marty rose and cleared his throat. “Thank you, Your Honor. Mr. Jones was deeply saddened to hear that the Marshalls’ child had been ill. But Just Us Kids Day Care has always upheld the strictest hygiene protocols and is not responsible for the transmission of a virus that even the plaintiff’s attorney admits is highly contagious and easily spread. We intend to present expert testimony that RSV is common and virtually impossible to trace to one contaminant. Blaming Just Us Kids for a virus that could have come from anywhere is like blaming a single daisy for a county-wide hay fever sneezing fit.”