“Well, there’s no name on her collar. I’ll come up with something. I guess we need to find out if it’s a boy cat or a girl cat. Do you know how to tell?”
Ariel folded her arms. “Do I look like a veterinarian to you?”
Spencer moved back to his laptop and did a search. “Hang on a minute. Okay, here we go. How to sex a cat.”
“I hope you don’t get arrested. If the Feds look at your search history and see that, God knows what they’ll think.”
Spencer chuckled and continued reading. “It says to look directly under the tail. If it looks like a colon, it’s a boy. Upside down exclamation point, it’s a girl.”
“Well, I’m not doing this punctuation search of a cat’s nether regions. Knock yourself out.”
He picked up the cat and took a look. “Our guest is a young lady.”
“Well, you do need a nice girl on your lap.”
“Very funny.”
“Speaking of which, you want me to track down the name of that lawyer with the great eyes who turned your head? I mean, if you think you can sacrifice the billable hours in order to actually go on a date with her and have a social life.”
He offered a slight smile. “Okay, okay, you’ve made your point. But yeah, it would definitely be worth it.”
By Friday morning, cabin fever, or rather hotel room fever, had set in. Tish hated living out of a suitcase and couldn’t wait to get to Madison’s house for the weekend. Her friend had offered her the chance to stay there all the time, but the commute would take too many valuable hours away, especially in light of her lost client. She needed every minute to dredge up new business and work on her big case if she was to get her law practice back on solid ground. The only good thing about living in a hotel was that it was very close to her office. She determined the only way to make the next few months livable was to spend as little time in the hotel as possible.
The early morning jog along the river had brightened her spirits. She had fallen out of an exercise routine and though she had maintained her one hundred and forty pounds on her five-eight frame, she had gotten a bit soft and out of shape sitting at a desk or in a courtroom all day. Time to get toned again and getting away from the hotel was a good incentive. Besides, it was a pretty fall morning, sunny and unseasonably warm. She finished her run, out of breath and soaked with sweat, hair matted to her face. She was parched as she spotted the soda cart in front of the hotel. She made her way over to get a cool drink, finding herself behind a man in a suit who was talking on a cell phone.
The burly, fiftyish guy with salt-and-pepper hair operating the cart handed a cup of coffee to the man as she moved forward. He gave her a warm smile. “Can I help you, young lady?”
“Thank you for calling me young.”
“No charge for compliments.”
“You got a cold club soda, or sparkling water?”
“Sure.” He reached into the cooler, pulled out a can and handed it to her. “Dollar.”
She reached into her pocket. Empty. “Damn it. I forgot some money. I’m in the hotel, I’ll be right back.”
The man in the suit apparently overheard. “Hang on a minute.” He put the phone against his chest, reached in his pocket and handed the guy a dollar bill. “I got it.”
She turned to face him. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you—”
And then it hit her.
Her eyes went wide as she looked into the face of the white knight from the restaurant.
She had called him awfully cute, but up close he was beyond cute.
And here she was looking like absolute crap in the paint covered sweatpants and old t-shirt she kept in her car.
“No problem,” he said, flashing her a smile. “Excuse me.” He turned away and went back to his phone call as he looked at his watch. “I’m back. Anyway, I’ll see you Saturday night but I gotta go.” He started to walk away. “Love you too.”
Tish shook her head. “Well, damn. Can this week get any worse?”
The soda cart guy studied her face. “Something wrong, Miss?”
“My luck just needs to change, that’s all.”
*
Spencer waited until Ariel left the office for a deposition. She’d be gone an hour or so, more than enough time for him to follow through on her idea.
Finding out the identity of the lawyer who had seriously kicked ass in the courtroom the other day. Ariel was right about the woman being his type. Intelligence trumped everything with him, and that woman was off-the-charts brilliant. Her combination of street smarts and knowledge of the law was impressive. Toss in some New York City spunk and her appeal skyrocketed.
And she was quietly beautiful with those spectacular eyes.
He logged into the New York City justice system database and called up the docket for the new judge, then clicked on the case that had been scheduled for her first morning.
A quick read reminded him there was a female attorney for both the plaintiff and the defendant. One of the names was somehow familiar. “Where the hell do I know that from?” He paused a minute, but couldn’t place it.
He opened another window on the laptop and logged into the New York Bar Association website, then typed in the name of the defendant’s lawyer, Jolene Davis.
He drummed his fingers on the desk as he waited for her bio to load. Then shook his head as the screen featured a photo of a brunette in her fifties. “Nope, not her. Gotta be the other one.” He typed in “Tish McKenna” and waited.
There she was.
His pulse quickened a bit as he started to read her bio—
Which stopped him dead in his tracks. His jaw dropped as he saw the name of the law school and the year she’d graduated.
“You gotta be kidding me. She was in my class? How the hell did I miss someone like that?”
Because you were young and stupid. And into flashy bimbos back then like most men of that age.
He simply couldn’t remember her at all. Next stop, the website for his law school’s alumni association. He pulled up the photo of the graduating class, read the caption to find the name and her place in the photo. When he saw her face he instantly remembered the woman.
“Oh.” His eyes narrowed as his jaw and fists clenched. “Her.”
There she was, middle of the picture in a cap and gown standing next to the Dean of the law school. She was the valedictorian, her grades so far ahead of the other students it wasn’t even close. The one person who had kept him in second place. Known back then as Mrs. Spock, nicknamed after the Star Trek character who had no emotions and was driven by pure logic. She had been all business, all the time. Never socialized with any of the other students. Never smiled, cracked a joke or made any comment in class regarding anything other than the law. Didn’t go to any of the parties. As far as anyone knew, she never dated. It was like having a nun as a classmate. She sat in the first row, her hand always shooting up like a rocket a nanosecond after the professor asked a question. Answers always perfect. Able to cite obscure legal precedents in a single bound. The woman was a walking law library who got a perfect score on every