Her frown deepened into a full-fledged glare. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Trying to make you see how it is!”
“Again, this isn’t appropriate, Mr. Galloway.”
“Appropriate be damned. We’re not talking Ms. Manners here. This is about a father fighting like all get-out for his daughter.”
Mackie reached for the release button, but he held the panel shut, preventing access.
“Mr. Galloway! You’re wasting your time with me. I’m not going to argue the merits of this case with you in an elevator. I’ll give you just five seconds to get us moving again before I start screaming my lungs out for a guard.”
“OK, OK,” he said, throwing up his hands. “I should have known you were too stubborn to reason with. I was hoping to save myself a heap of frustration and spare you some embarrassment. But if you want to play the fool, fine.” He ran a hand across the back of his neck.
Mackie opened her mouth to yell just as Galloway released the emergency stop button. “Save your vocal cords, lady. You’ll need them for court when you start attempting to defend the indefensible. You may have prevailed in round one, but the battle is just starting. And,” he added, “be aware that I’ll do whatever it takes to hang on to my child.”
“That sounds like a threat.”
“No, just a friendly warning.”
At that moment the doors opened on the ground floor and Galloway stormed off the elevator, leaving Mackie to gape after him. Friendly? If that was a friendly warning, she’d hate to be on the receiving end of an unfriendly one.
This guy was unbelievable—a real loose cannon. Sounding off to the judge, waylaying her in the courtroom, holding her captive in an elevator...speaking of which... People getting on made Mackie aware she’d better exit unless she planned to spend the day riding up and down. She walked to her car in the parking lot, still fixated on Galloway.
Loose cannon or not, he seemed so sure of his position, so adamant that Beth was not what she made herself out to be. Could he even be half right? Could money possibly be on Beth’s agenda? If so, why had Beth never so much as hinted that she sought part of her ex-husband’s recent financial windfall? If it was important, why hadn’t she revealed that she’d already been offered a share?
No, Galloway was simply shooting off his mouth, talking when he should have kept silent. What Mackie had just witnessed was the bruised pride of a wounded Texas male. His ego, battered by the desertion of his wife, had overridden his ability to think clearly and created a need to strike back. She must concentrate on that and not let him undermine her relationship with her client.
After all, Beth hadn’t tried to sugarcoat her role in her predicament. She claimed her actions had been triggered by postpartum depression, yet she hadn’t let herself off the hook. From day one, she’d owned up to irresponsible behavior. But simply because she’d misbehaved—even grievously—in those early weeks of motherhood was no excuse for Gordon Galloway’s punishing her by forever withholding her child. Beth had a right to be with her daughter and Ashley had a right to know her mother. As for Galloway’s rights—well, let Alexander, Mott, et cetera worry about them. Mackie had her own problems.
“What if he doesn’t bring her?” It was five minutes until six on Friday and Beth was planted in front of the window of the conference room adjacent to Mackie’s office, monitoring the parking lot for incoming cars.
“He will.” Mackie spoke more with bravado than conviction. During the proceedings and afterward, Galloway had acted mad enough to take the law into his own hands and defy a court order. Or to keep the opposition waiting till the last minute simply for the devilment of it. She glanced at her watch. Five fifty-nine now.
A knock sounded at exactly six. He must have been parked on the street. “You’re here,” Mackie said, her throat catching at the sight of the picture before her—Galloway carrying a precious little girl.
“Regrettably,” he said solemnly, his attitude bringing her back to earth.
She opened the door wider and gestured toward the conference room, studying the two as she followed behind.
The toddler was dressed in a pink coat trimmed with fake fur. Beneath the matching pink hat curled soft brown ringlets. Her blue eyes, exact copies of her father’s, took in Mackie from her shoulder-high view.
Beth stood transfixed at the back of the room as Gordon shifted a diaper bag off his shoulder onto the conference table. Neither spoke to the other.
Mackie walked over and urged Beth forward. “Come greet your daughter.”
Seemingly afraid to get too close to Gordon or Ashley, Beth tentatively approached. She reached out to take the baby from Gordon.
As if programmed by her father, Ashley let out a howl the instant Beth touched her. But instead of turning into the familiar male shoulder, the little girl flung herself toward Mackie’s arms. Mackie, nonplussed, gingerly took Ashley and held her as one might cradle a large cactus plant. “There, there,” she said uncomfortably, aware of Galloway’s scrutiny as she tried shifting the bundle to her hip.
“Lord help me,” he growled. “Give her back before you drop her. You’re as bad as your client—” he cast a menacing glance at Beth “—neither one with the maternal instincts of a cuckoo bird.”
For a moment Mackie reeled from the tongue-lashing, but then managed to regain her poise. “Insults won’t make this any easier, Mr. Galloway,” she huffed, again shifting the load in her arms and leaning her head out of reach of the curious little fingers trying to snag a gold earring.
“OK, I’ll keep quiet. Just give her to me.”
Mackie refused to relinquish the baby to him, defiantly handing her to Beth instead. Ashley’s lips curved down at the exchange but at least she didn’t start wailing again. Turning back to Galloway, Mackie announced crisply, “We won’t keep you any longer. This transaction is complete.”
“Transaction?” Galloway’s face darkened ominously. “Is that how you see it—a transaction?” He gave a puff of disgust. “Man. You and Beth are definitely kindred spirits.”
“And you’re a sore loser. What say we give the put-downs a rest and you be on your way? Beth has waited a long time for this reunion with her daughter. Why don’t we let them get to it?”
“Right...a long time,” he said, sparing no sarcasm. Then his shoulders seemed to sag a little in defeat. “I’ll be available all weekend if you need me, Beth. I’ve brought some clothes and toys, and a list of things she likes and dislikes. I’ll leave her car seat with the guard downstairs...oh, and here...”
Placing two business cards on the table, he slid one Beth’s way and one toward Mackie. “My home and cell phone numbers are on the back. I expect to be notified immediately if there’s the slightest problems.”
“There won’t be,” Mackie answered optimistically, motioning Gordon toward the door. He put a hand up to wave to his daughter, then departed.
“Well, thank heavens that’s over,” she said, smiling to Beth once he was gone. The smile faded immediately as Mackie moved her gaze to Ashley whom Beth had set on the conference table. In that brief period of time the child had upended a silver carafe, which was sending rivulets of water toward the business cards. Beth seemed oblivious to the spill.
“Better get those cards,” Mackie admonished. “While they’re still readable.” All hell would break loose if something happened to Ashley and Galloway weren’t informed.
Compliantly