pushy sometimes. Megan’s always telling me I talk first and think later. But how could I pass up this opportunity when it’s been so difficult trying to reach you?” She gave Elizabeth a cajoling smile. “Can we get together…please? It would mean so much to Megan and me.”
Their orders arrived just then and Elizabeth escaped having to reply. Not to be deterred, Lindsay shifted to one side, waiting while their plates were placed in front of them. Then she laid her card at Elizabeth’s place. “I’ll go now and let you enjoy your lunch, but please use my private number to call me…anytime. Or Megan. I’ve jotted hers down, too. She’s doing her residency. Presently it’s an ER rotation. I think that lasts six weeks, then it’s—” She stopped, smiled again in charming apology. “Okay, okay, I’m done. Call one of us, Elizabeth. Please? Now that we know you exist, we’ll have all the time in the world to get to know each other. After all, we’re family. What could be more natural?” Still smiling, she backed away.
“So that’s what a TV personality looks like in person,” Gina breathed as they watched Lindsay make her way through the lunch crowd, waving to first one then another of the seated diners. One man rose hastily, beckoning her over to an already full table. With a bright smile of recognition, she went over and stood talking.
“I wonder how it feels to have a face that everybody recognizes?” Gina mused.
“Not everybody,” Maude said, giving Elizabeth a smiling look. “I never saw her before. I take it she’s a local celebrity?”
Gina, not Elizabeth, answered. “Yeah, at least she is in Houston, I guess. She had her own talk show produced at WBYH, but it was canceled after—” She looked at Elizabeth. “It ran about a year, didn’t it, Liz?”
“I really don’t know.”
“Are you like me, Elizabeth, not much time for television?” Maude might not be a fan; nevertheless, she was intrigued. Her gaze was on Lindsay, still chatting across the room. “Why was the show canceled?”
Gina shrugged. “Ratings, I suppose. Isn’t that always the reason a show is axed?”
Maude smiled faintly. “Again, I plead ignorance.”
“But now that I’ve actually seen her,” Gina said, noting the buzz among the lunch crowd as they began to recognize the celebrity among them, “I’m surprised she didn’t make a go of it. She’s very charismatic, isn’t she? And talk about cogones, she’s got ’em! It took balls to approach Liz after she ignored the e-mail. I’ve seen Liz squash lesser individuals who tried to intrude on her privacy.” She gave Elizabeth a thoughtful look. “Are you telling me you never knew the Lindsay who sent that e-mail was one and the same as Lindsay Blackstone of television fame?” There was obvious admiration on Gina’s face.
“I guess I’m just not the starstruck type,” Elizabeth said with a shrug, knowing it was difficult to resist someone with Lindsay’s infectious personality. But she was honest enough to admit her reaction seemed less noble now that she’d learned her sisters never knew she existed. They hadn’t chosen to shut her out of their lives. They hadn’t known about her. She studied her soup without enthusiasm. Maybe sometime in the future she’d make an effort to get to know Lindsay and Megan, but for now, the time just wasn’t right.
Even though her appetite was gone, Elizabeth picked up her spoon. “Can we eat our lunch now?”
Four
“Hot damn, I think you did it, Ryan!” Slapping his hand on the tabletop, Austin grinned with glee as he watched Ryan collect papers and notes, a couple of pens and a scattering of paper clips, then toss them into his briefcase. “I knew you’d cream Gina on the stand, but it was really inspiring the way you rattled that bitch she’s living with now.” He rubbed his hands together. “Hell, you made it look easy. We’ve got ’em, haven’t we?”
Ryan closed the lid of his briefcase and snapped the locks shut. He preferred spending the lunch recess alone. He stayed focused that way, but Austin was like a pesky pup, dogging his tracks and peppering him with questions. He’d done his best to prepare him for his testimony this afternoon, but he didn’t have a good feeling about it. “It’s a mistake to count your chickens before they hatch, Austin.”
Something about the grim set of his features finally signaled to Austin that his lawyer’s behavior was something less than joyful. His glee morphed into impatience.
“It’s not chickens we’re dealing with here,” he snapped. “It’s a couple of dykes with an agenda. Which is to take me to the cleaners. So I repeat, do you think we’ve destroyed their case? Am I going to come out of this without writing a check that’ll make me very unhappy or not?”
Ryan was silent. He’d been pretty brutal to Gina and her friend and he wasn’t feeling particularly proud of himself. Elizabeth’s testimony had been especially powerful and he’d had to use strong tactics to make his point. Hell, it was natural she’d want to stick up for Gina. That’s what character witnesses did. Their mission was to paint a glowing picture of the person they’d mounted the stand to defend. Elizabeth had done that all right, big time. As a result, he’d crossed a line professionally grilling them both the way he did. He knew in his gut the women weren’t lesbians. And Elizabeth’s explanation about the New Year’s Eve party had the ring of truth. Whether both were telling the truth about Austin’s abuse was more difficult to judge, and that was troublesome. There were no hospital records, Gina had never called the police, she’d made no formal complaints anytime, anywhere. With no paper trail, it was Gina’s word—and her friend Elizabeth Walker’s—against a man Ryan himself had known for several years. On the other hand, his acquaintance with Austin was not personal, but almost exclusively professional. And very casual. Still, word of that kind of behavior got around, didn’t it? And although he had never heard a word about it, the gossip mill at LJ and B was alive and well. On the other hand, anyone gossiping about Curtiss Leggett’s son would be severely chastised at the firm. That, in itself, would keep a lid on gossip. So, the question remained, were the allegations of the two women manufactured to put the squeeze on his client, as Austin claimed? If so, that kind of mean-spirited, grasping behavior deserved the full brunt of his expertise to rebut it.
He paused with a sheaf of papers in his hand. All this soul-searching and second-guessing of himself was a useless exercise. His treatment of Elizabeth Walker on the stand had nothing to do with her connection to the man who’d driven his father to suicide, and everything to do with his client. That would have been over the line, and he didn’t consider himself petty.
“Hello? Counselor…anybody home?”
“Hmm? Oh, sorry, Austin. I was just practicing my closing statement,” Ryan lied. He picked up his briefcase from the table and fell into step with his client, both headed for the doors. “Why don’t you go grab yourself some lunch and I’ll meet you here when we reconvene?” He shot back a cuff to look at his watch. “In about an hour and a half.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Austin said, ignoring the dismissal.
“I didn’t hear a question.”
“Is she going to be awarded big money?” he repeated in exasperation. “Jesus, Ryan, what else would I be asking about?”
“What about custody? Isn’t that what you’re most interested in?”
“Custody and the settlement amount go hand in hand,” Austin said, getting more agitated by the minute. On the steps of the courthouse now, he suddenly faced Ryan. “What’s going on here? Are you having doubts about the case? Are you starting to believe those two? Because if you are, I need to know about it. I can get another lawyer—”
Ryan stopped, fed up with the whole nasty situation. “Listen, Austin, if you don’t like the way I’m handling your case, there are thirty-five or forty other lawyers at LB and J who would jump to take my place. I didn’t ask for this job, I was put in a position by your father where it was flat-out suicide to refuse it. And