with the soft voice and the dry sense of humor whom she had known for over eight years? Mitch didn’t bother to answer her questions. He seemed intent on evading the issue, but she persisted. “Mitch, what are you doing here?”
“What does it look like?”
“It looks suspiciously like you’re getting smashed,” she replied honestly.
“Very astute, young lady. I always did say that you were a smart girl, Erin.” Mitch drained his old drink and reached for the new one. “Are you sure you won’t join me? The Scotch is excellent!” Erin shook her head, but Mitch accosted the bartender. “Bring the lady a glass of Chablis,” he commanded over Erin’s protests.
Erin was having trouble hiding her annoyance with her boss and his unpredictable mood swings, but she kept her temper in check and tried a more subtle approach with him. “Why did you leave the bank early today?” A glass of chilled white wine appeared on the bar before her.
“You haven’t heard?”
“Heard what?” Erin asked uneasily. There was a menacing quality about Mitch that she wasn’t accustomed to and didn’t like.
Mitch shrugged and Erin noticed that his shoulders drooped. “Why don’t you ask Kane Webster, if you’re so interested.”
“Webster? The new president of the bank? What does he have to do with the fact that you left the office and your clients in order to promote a hangover?” she inquired. Mitch had changed dramatically in the last several months. His behavior had become erratic, almost secretive, and his work had suffered. However, until today Erin had never had to cover for him with a client or track him down in some bar. Erin counted Mitch as one of the few close friends she had in the world, and it pained her to witness his deterioration.
She couldn’t forget that Mitch had helped her through an agonizing period in her life by offering her a challenging job and a chance to bury herself in her work. He had encouraged her to do postgraduate work in law and keep busy in order to forget about Lee and the embarrassment and heartache she had suffered while she was married to him. Mitch had helped Erin realize that when Lee had left her eight years before, it hadn’t been the end of the world. When she had needed a friend, Mitchell Cameron had been there. And now, if Mitch had a problem, Erin vowed to return the favor.
“Mrs. Anderson was in today,” Erin stated, and took the glass of wine from the bar. “She was very disappointed that you weren’t able to meet with her yourself. Somehow she didn’t really think that I was a suitable replacement for the head of the legal department, and I can’t say that I blame her. I certainly wasn’t very knowledgeable about her grandfather’s will or the estate…”
“That’s her problem,” Mitch stated blandly and again focused his attention on the bottom of his glass.
“It’s not Mrs. Anderson’s problem,” Erin corrected.
“Well, it certainly isn’t mine!”
“But the bank…”
“To hell with the bank” Mitch spat out and slammed his glass on the polished counter. Several of the patrons close by turned interested eyes on Erin and Mitch. Erin felt herself shrink. The last thing she wanted to do was cause a scene.
“I don’t understand what’s gotten into you lately,” Erin began in a low whisper. “And I don’t know what Kane Webster has to do with you coming down here to drown your sorrows, but if there’s anything I can do—or if there’s something you want to talk about…”
“I don’t want to talk about anything! You’re the one who came looking for me,” he reminded her crossly. “I didn’t invite you!”
“I was worried about you.”
“Well, don’t worry over me. I can take care of myself!” Mitch’s voice was bitter.
“Mitch, what in the world is going on?” she asked. Erin was stung by his acrid words, but compassion held back the sharp retort that had entered her mind as she watched Mitch order another drink. It was apparent that something was eating him, and because of the kindness he had shown her in the past, she held her tongue. She reached for his sleeve and in a quieter voice asked, “Won’t you please tell me what’s wrong?”
“Wrong?” The word ricocheted back at her followed by Mitch’s mirthless laugh. “What could possibly be wrong?” His blue eyes glittered like ice. “Unless, of course, you think that being fired from a bank that you’ve given twenty years of your life to is a problem.”
The meaning of his words struck her like an arctic blast. “Fired? Webster fired you? But why?”
“Like I said, ask him—if you’ve still got a job. Who knows, you could be next!”
“But he hasn’t even come up from California yet.”
“Oh, he’s here all right, and mark my words, all of the employees at First Puget—oh, excuse me—Consolidated First Bank better be ready!” he pointed out sarcastically.
Erin sat for a moment in numbed silence. The thought of Mitch being fired was absurd, ludicrous. Mitch had been prominent in building the legal department of First Puget to one of the most prestigious in the city. It was true that for the first time in over a decade the legal department had lost money, but certainly the new president wouldn’t hold Mitch solely responsible, would he? Nothing made any sense to her anymore. Mitch caught the look of confusion and pity in her eyes. His attitude softened momentarily.
“Look, Erin. Don’t waste your sympathy on me. And it’s really not a good idea for you to be seen with me. Believe me, it would be in your best interests to just leave me alone.”
“You look like you could use a friend,” Erin suggested.
“What I need now is a good attorney, not a friend.”
“But you are an attorney,” Erin replied, still completely perplexed.
Mitch looked her squarely in the eyes. “I’m a lawyer, yes, but I specialize in civil law. What I need now is a criminal lawyer.”
“I don’t understand….”
“You don’t have to,” Mitch answered abruptly and stood up. “I told you before, I don’t need your sympathy or any of your self-righteous friendship!” He turned his back on Erin, fumbled in his pocket for a moment and threw a wad of crumpled bills onto the bar. “See ya around,” he called over his shoulder, but Erin didn’t think he directed his words at her.
“Mitch…wait,” she began, but his long uneven strides carried him out of the door and into the night. As she watched him leave she was still recovering from the shock of his dismissal. Why would he have been fired? It was hard to believe that she wouldn’t see him on Monday morning, sitting behind his large oak desk, puffing on a slim cigar and perusing The Wall Street Journal.
“Looks like you’ve been stranded,” a smooth male voice suggested intimately. “How about a drink with me?”
Erin turned in the direction of the voice and murmured a firm “No, thanks” to the young man with the clipped mustache. He shrugged his shoulders at her denial, as if it was her loss, and manipulated his attention to a lanky blonde sitting near the dance floor.
Erin made her way back to the car. The drizzle had turned into a downpour and the late afternoon sky had blackened. The drive home was automatic, and as the windshield wipers slapped the rain off the glass, Erin thought about Mitch and what it would be like without his presence in the bank.
She had suspected for several months that Mitch was in the throes of some personal problem. At least it had appeared that way. He had seemed tired and worried—no, more than that—tense, tightly coiled. The closer the final date for the imminent bank sale had drawn, the more tightly wound Mitch had become. Erin had told herself at the time that it was only her imagination, that all of the employees of First Puget were bound to be a little anxious about the new management. But now, as she