The Navy Seal's Rescue. Jo LeighЧитать онлайн книгу.
to come in here and look at me the way you look out that window.”
She smiled, knowing he understood that at work, it was all work, and nothing more.
“You wanted to talk to me?”
“I was about to call you,” he said, leaning back in his leather chair, looking a little too handsome with his shirtsleeves rolled up on his toned arms. His dark hair could have been longer, but at least the top was at the stage where she could tell he’d been running his fingers through it. “You working late?”
“I was hoping to leave before seven.”
“How about we order in some sushi? I’d like to talk to you about Burbidge.”
“Has something happened?”
He nodded. “And it’s a doozy. You want your regular?”
“Sure. Anything else going on? It’s too quiet around here.”
“Big meeting upstairs.”
“Ah.” She should’ve guessed. The top floor was occupied by the senior partners and two conference rooms that looked more like penthouses. “I’m surprised you aren’t up there.”
“I was.” Looking grim, he rubbed a hand over his face. “How long before you finish up?”
“An hour?”
“Good. I’ll have Gretchen order the sushi now before she goes home.”
Jessica hurried back to her office, her curiosity flying high. Their client, Alan Burbidge, was one of their biggest assets. His billable hours made up a large percentage of the firm’s income. He dealt primarily in real estate, although he owned over a dozen companies, from manufacturing to insurance to media outlets. A good deal of Jessica’s workload consisted of reviewing contracts and cases for Burbidge, her current focus on a lawsuit that was pending over a violation of Title II of the Hart-Scott-Rodino Antitrust Improvements Act of 1976. It was interesting, and had led her to a great many precedents for both sides. But it was hard to believe anything could be a doozy about this particular case.
Yet Grant had looked worried, even though he didn’t rattle easily. So something was definitely brewing. Having landed Burbidge’s subsidiary accounts had put Grant on the fast track to senior partner.
After forty minutes she called it quits, too jumpy to stay focused. She quickly cleared her desk and headed back to Grant’s office. The scent of soy sauce and vinegar hit her before she stepped inside his office, making her stomach rumble.
“Hope you don’t mind but I need to take a few bites,” she said, grabbing her bento box before she sat across from him. “I haven’t eaten today and I’m starving. So, what’s this all about?”
Instead of answering her, he got up and closed his door. Unusual. When he took his seat, he opened both bottles of Kirin beer. “Burbidge Jr. has done it again.”
Jessica moaned. “Oh, God. What this time?”
Grant’s expression told her this wasn’t just another DUI. “He’s been accused of rape.”
She set down her dragon roll. “No. Please tell me Burbidge doesn’t want us to make this disappear.”
“He does. And he’s adamant about it. Threatened to walk away from the firm if we don’t provide a winning defense.”
“I’m surprised he isn’t demanding we get the charges dropped.”
“Oh, that’s his first preference.”
Losing his business would be a huge price to pay, but letting a rapist off the hook, especially one with money, happened far too often. To be any part of that kind of travesty was unconscionable. “I don’t know how I feel about this. I mean, the poor girl—”
“He’s still entitled to a defense.”
“Do you—does anyone know if he actually did it?” She studied Grant’s face, but couldn’t read him. “Personally, I think the kid is narcissistic and stupid enough to admit it if not brag about it...at least to his daddy’s attorneys.”
Grant shrugged. “If it’s at all possible there’s DNA evidence, he’ll claim it was consensual. I’m not a defense attorney, but that’s how I’d advise him.”
A chill ran down her spine. “You were, though. Early on.”
“Yeah, for about a year after I passed the bar. That’s it.”
“Who’s being assigned as lead counsel? David Crawford?” Jessica didn’t care for the newest senior partner, mostly due to his reputation for being ruthless. But with his win record, he seemed the logical choice.
“Look, Burbidge isn’t being entirely rational at the moment. He seems more concerned that Sanford is going to be branded as a rapist.”
Jessica searched Grant’s eyes, wondering if he’d purposely ignored her question, which wasn’t like him. “Great. That means he’ll do anything to avoid a trial. Has he suggested paying off the victim yet?”
“I understand this is a sensitive topic. Just don’t forget we’re still his attorneys. It’s not our job to pass judgment. Innocent until proven guilty, remember?”
“Not having to work with rapists is one reason I never wanted to be a criminal attorney. And we both know he’s got the wherewithal to manipulate anything that can be bought.”
“There’s no wiggling out of that. Two witnesses have come forward. Money alone won’t let him walk.”
“So, what then?”
“Burbidge is handpicking a legal team that he thinks can pull this off.”
“Wait. You mean, personally? He’s choosing who’ll be—”
Grant nodded. “I told you he isn’t being rational.”
“You’ve known him for a long time. Can’t you reason with him?”
Grant set his beer down and leaned forward. “He wants both me and you as co-counsel.”
Jessica lurched back in her chair. “That’s not funny.”
“It’s not a joke. He specifically asked for you.”
“What part of me not being a criminal attorney doesn’t he understand?”
“I’m not one, either. But he trusts me. And he insists on you.”
“Well, you’ll just have to work harder to get him to see he’s being an idiot.”
Grant’s temper bled through, but only for a second. “Naturally we won’t tackle this alone. Crawford will be lead in every way that counts. And Lister and Ulrich are joining the team.”
Jessica stared at the man she thought she knew. Did he really think she’d want any part in this? “Why on earth would Alan Burbidge ask for me? I’ve hardly had any personal interaction with him. But I have dealt with Sanford Burbidge a number of times, as you know. What I haven’t mentioned is that twice he’s bordered on inappropriate.”
“Well, damn.” Grant stared blankly past her for a long while, then he leaned forward, his elbows on his shiny teak desk. “Alan thinks you’ve got the right stuff to handle a jury. Possibly because Sanford put a bug in his ear, but that’s immaterial because he’s already hired Roger Eastman—arguably the best jury consultant in Chicago—and they came back with a profile that fits you to a T.”
“I understand why they’d want a woman at the defense table for a rape charge, but it’s a moot point, anyway. The prosecutor’s office would have a field day with me at the table. For God’s sake, I’m a contract attorney. Even if I did agree to join the team, I’m not equipped for the job. There are excellent women criminal lawyers in the firm, so asking me is ridiculous. I’m not getting on board with this, Grant.”
“I