Grace wasn’t hungry, but she took her place at the table anyway.
The food was passed around, and slowly the conversation started to shift.
Her dad asked Dameon what he was painting, and he went on to talk about the house and project up in the canyon.
Parker chimed in about how the area felt like an outpost when she drove through it.
With her family chatting about other things, Grace’s mind took a break from the problem at hand. Her mom’s chicken casserole and buttermilk biscuits always cheered her up. She found herself eating, despite her lack of appetite.
She loved her family.
The minute she’d shown up at her parents’ door, her mom called everyone in for support. It was as if her getting put on leave was some kind of tragedy. It wasn’t. Not really. But having them there offering advice when she couldn’t think for herself was uplifting.
By the time dinner was done, and the dishes were cleared, Grace felt her backbone start to return. She’d found paper and a pen and started to work on describing what had happened the night Sokolov claimed she suggested a bribe.
“When did they say they wanted this?” Dameon sat by her side, watching her work.
“Tomorrow.”
“I’ll have my attorney come over in the morning to go over it with you before you deliver it.”
“Dameon, that isn’t necessary.”
“Gracie?” her dad called to her from the living room where he sat with her brothers. “You listen to him. What did I tell you to do if you ever got in trouble with the law?”
“This isn’t the same, Dad.”
“Taking a bribe, offering a bribe . . . both are a crime.”
“No one is pressing charges.”
“Yet,” her dad said with a stare.
Dameon placed a hand on her back and idly rubbed against it.
“Fine,” she said.
Dameon smiled and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed a number and silently walked out to the backyard, closing the door behind him.
Erin reached across the table and tapped her arm. “I really like him,” she said quietly.
“Does he have a lawyer on speed dial?” Grace asked.
“I don’t know too many people in big business who don’t,” Erin said.
“He’s a lot less of a suit than you described,” her dad added from his perch on the sofa.
“He can probably hear you,” Grace said.
“Nothing I won’t say to his face.”
“He seems like a very nice man.” Her mom gave her two cents.
Carson Phillips looked completely out of place standing on Dameon’s doorstep first thing in the morning. He was one of three partners in the law firm Dameon had in his court from the minute he’d started Locke Enterprises. In his midfifties, Carson still had a full head of hair with just enough salt sprinkled in the pepper to help him look his age.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Dameon said while he opened the door wider to let the man inside.
“That’s what retainers are for.”
“I’ll have you follow me over to the Hudsons’ to talk with Grace, but I wanted to meet with you first,” Dameon told him.
Carson walked in the house and looked around. “So this is the location of your next venture.”
“It is.”
“I can’t say I’ve been out this far in a long time.”
“It grows on you after a while.”
Dameon offered him coffee, which he refused, and they both took a seat at the table.
“So, tell me about this woman I’m going to represent,” Carson started.
“Grace Hudson is a friend.”
Carson cleared his throat.
“More than a friend. Like I told you last night, she works for the city. That’s how we officially met.” Dameon recapped what he’d told him the night before. “She’s mentioned to me on several occasions that she felt her boss had a grudge against her.”
“Why?”
“No idea. Grace might be able to answer that. What I do know is these allegations are bogus. She called me the night she met with this man, and she was a mess. Once you get to know Grace, you know that doesn’t come easy for her. She’s in control, like every engineer I’ve ever met. Strong, independent. But this guy rattled her cage.”
“Why do you think this man is making these claims?”
“The way she described him, he’s a macho type who doesn’t take direction from women very well. When he didn’t get what he wanted by pushing her around, he took another route. You couple that with a boss that has a grudge, and she feels alone in this.”
“Which is why you called me.”
“Right. Grace is the kind of person that believes if she just tells the truth, all of this will go away.”
Carson laughed.
“Right. Naive of her, I know.”
“No one has filed charges, right?”
“No. Not that we know of.”
Carson nodded. “I’ve already talked with a PI I like to use in these kinds of cases. She’ll look into this Sokolov person. And take a good look at Miss Hudson’s life and these accusations so we can better defend her when and if the time comes.”
Dameon sighed. “I’d appreciate it.”
Finished with their conversation, Dameon grabbed his suit jacket and truck keys.
By the time they pulled into the street the Hudsons lived on, it was after nine in the morning.
Grace’s father opened the door. He hesitated a moment. “So you really do wear a suit,” he said instead of hello.
“Good morning, Mr. Hudson. This is Carson Phillips, the attorney I hired to help Grace out.”
Emmitt looked a little uncomfortable but stepped aside all the same.
The men shook hands, and Nora emerged from the back of the house. “Good morning, Dameon.” Unlike Emmitt, Nora hugged him with a smile.
Grace walked out wearing a smart dress suit with a pencil skirt and matching jacket. She looked worlds better than she had the night before. She either slept really well, or understood the finer tricks of wearing makeup to hide a night of crying.
Her high heels brought her all the closer to his height when she walked up.
Her lips lifted and Dameon took the liberty of a quick hello kiss. “You look like you slept,” he told her.
“I did. And when I woke up, I was pissed.”
“Good.” He turned to the side and introduced Carson.
In no time, they were seated around the table drinking coffee and listening to Grace repeat her story again. It took a good half an hour to tell the whole of it and ended with her pushing the written version over for Carson to read.
“We can fix this,” Carson said when he finished.
“Is there something wrong with it?”
“No. But it can be better. You don’t say anything about you being sent out late in the day to a hostile client by yourself. You didn’t point out that Richard sent you after you had repeatedly explained that this particular landowner had wasted your time in the past. Is Mr. Sokolov a big man?” Carson asked.
“I’m pretty short. Most men are big compared to me.”
“That needs to be pointed out.”
Grace glanced at Dameon, unsure. “Okay.”