Chapter 5
Chapter Five
All the next day, Lana prepped for the hearing. She barely came up for air, even for lunch. Then Trevor came into her office, shuffling forward hesitantly, and breaking her concentration.
“Yes, Trevor? Need something?”
“Just checking if you got the list of cases I sent.”
“I did. Haven’t had a chance to look over them yet.”
Trevor had graduated from law school the same year as Lana, yet she’d risen much faster within their office. She knew that she was unusually young to be second in command, but their office had high turnover, and she’d worked her ass off to get here.
Unlike Lana, Trevor came from a family of lawyers.
His father was a federal judge, and his mom was a prominent professor of civil procedure in L.A.
Trevor talked about vacationing in places like the Maldives, and he drove some kind of limited edition, hand-built Mercedes from the 1990s, a car that Lana found over-the-top.
Especially whenever she saw the massive thing parked among the other DAs’ Hondas and Toyotas.
Sometimes, she got the sense that Trevor was jealous of her superior job title and her rapport with Stephen Abrams. But he’d never admitted it aloud.
He might not come up with the most creative strategies, but Trevor always worked diligently, putting in long hours by her side, even though he clearly didn’t need the salary.
Not everyone on a team had to bring the same strengths. Sometimes, Lana got so focused on her own work that she forgot to express her gratitude.
“Thank you for being quick with it. Anything that stood out to you?”
They chatted for a few minutes. Trevor, along with the other two deputy district attorneys in their small office, had been helping her get ready for tomorrow’s hearing.
Nobody had said anything yet about its subject matter.
She kept waiting for someone to be brave enough to speak up, and she doubted that would be Trevor.
But then he surprised her.
“I can’t believe the judge granted this hearing,” Trevor said. “Wayfair didn’t even make a basic showing of evidence. It’s obvious he’s speculating about…you know, you and Mr. Bennett to embarrass you. It’s ridiculous.”
“That’s how I feel, too. But it feels even better to hear it from someone else. Thank you.”
“Is there…truth to it? Not that you had him plant the evidence. Of course, you didn’t. But the relationship part?”
Lana’s face heated. “That’s irrelevant. But since you asked, no, we’re not seeing one another. We’re barely even friends outside of work and family connections.”
Trevor nodded, staring at his leather shoes. “Okay. Cool. Just curious. Let me know what else you need. I want to do whatever I can to make sure we win this.”
“Thanks, Trevor. I will.”
She appreciated his help. But in the end, if this went south, the only person she would blame was herself.
By the end of the day, she was eager to get home.
In her kitchen, she poured a glass of wine and dug around in her refrigerator for something to eat.
Lana had never been much of a cook. Sometimes, when she had her act together, she did meal prep on the weekends.
But when she got busy, she relied on sandwiches, canned soup, and pre-made hummus.
At the moment, her fridge was bare, even by her standards. “Cheese and crackers, it is.” At least it went with the wine.
She took her sad excuse for a dinner over to her couch. Tucking her legs beneath her, she switched on the TV, more for the company than to watch anything.
Her phone rang, and Max’s name appeared on the screen. She panicked, worried that he couldn’t make it to the hearing tomorrow. She’d sent him a reminder earlier in the day, and he hadn’t responded.
“Hello? Max?”
“Hey. Is…this a good time?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. Why does me calling mean there’s something wrong?”
He never called her at night. Not unless there was a problem related to a case or a problem with Aurora, his sister.
“You’re coming to the hearing tomorrow?”
“Yes. Of course.”
She sank onto the couch, closing her eyes. “I can’t mess this up, Max. I met with Claire Barnes yesterday, and she’s counting on me.”
“But you’re not on your own. You have a great team behind you.”
“Yeah. A small one.”
“And you have me.”
Oh Max, I’ve never had you. Not really. Not in the way she wished. “That’s kind of you to say.”
Though she still didn’t know exactly why he’d called.
“What about Stephen Abrams?” he asked. “Why isn’t he taking more of a lead on this?”
She explained the DA’s situation. His health, his decision not to run again. How he’d chosen Lana to replace him, assuming she could get elected.
“You’re running for DA in the next election? Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. If I don’t win this case, then I’ll never even be nominated.”
“But you’d be incredible at it. Say the word, and I’ll start setting up the fundraisers.”
“Max, I hate politics. I haven’t decided.”
“I hate politics, too, but that doesn’t mean either of us is bad at it. I’ll find you a campaign manager. I have some names I could send over.”
“Max,” she warned.
“Okay, I’ll leave it alone. For now.”
He could be overbearing at times. She knew that it came only from good intentions. But there was only so much she could handle now.
Yet she didn’t want him to go, either. His deep voice worked at the knots in her shoulders, calming her.
She wandered into her bedroom and lay back against her pillows, staring at the ceiling. “What about you? What’s next for your business empire?”
He made a noncommittal sound. “Still looking at options. For a while there, when Aurora had just come back to town, I had her to focus on.”
Aurora had left West Oaks for college and only returned a few months ago. Then she’d witnessed a crime, and some very bad people had gone after her. But thankfully, Aurora was safe and happy now. She also had a handsome bodyguard for a boyfriend, Devon Whitestone, who worked for Bennett Security.
“But these days,” Max went on, “I guess I feel a little restless. I’m always busy, but it’s like I’m spinning my wheels.”
She couldn’t remember the last time they’d talked like this. Not about work, not about Aurora, but about themselves.
“That’s how I always feel,” she said. “Like I should be doing more, but I don’t even know what that is.”
“Then maybe we should be restless together.”
She didn’t know what he meant. “How so?”
“When I don’t know what to do with myself, I’ll call you. And you do the same. It might help us focus.”
“No offense,” she said, tracing the patterns in the ceiling with her eyes. “But you and I don’t really have that kind of friendship.”
“Maybe we should.” He exhaled, and she heard footsteps.
Like he was walking around in his apartment in the top floor of the Bennett Security headquarters.
“Lana, I know there’s been this barrier between us for a long time.
We’ve never talked about it. And I’m not saying we need to.
But we can be friends, right? Real friends, the kind who open up to each other. ”
She was surprised. In all the years they’d known one another, he’d never been the type to be frank about what he was feeling.
“That might be nice.”
“Then would you talk to me about that phone call yesterday? The person you were cursing out? It upset you. You should let me help.”
Freaking Max Bennett. He had an instinct for reading people. But his talents only went so far. Reading people was one thing; understanding was another.
Max didn’t understand her. And he never would.
“I’d better get to bed, Max. The hearing is tomorrow at two. Don’t forget. Goodnight.”
“Lana, wait—”
She ended the call.
Most of the time, Lana loved her life. Her job was exciting and fulfilling.
She felt like she was doing something important.
She helped victims find justice, and often helped divert troubled people away from a path that would lead to prison.
Plenty of nonviolent offenders deserved another chance, whether it was through a drug treatment program, community service, or some other intervention.
She knew that she was making her hometown of West Oaks a better place.
And she had Aurora, friends from college and law school, not to mention some men in her contacts list who she could hit up for a no-nonsense shag.
Then here came Max Bennett, making her question things she’d long thought settled. Making her wonder about what-ifs and could-have-beens.
The man was infuriating. Almost as infuriating as he was attractive.
As she got ready for bed, Lana noticed a new voicemail. It had come from an unknown number. Her heart lodged in her throat.
Her first thought was, Tell Max.
But she couldn’t do that. She wouldn’t just be asking for his help. That, she’d done plenty of times before when it came to her cases. But if she told Max about these stupid calls, she’d be inviting his interference in her personal life.
The absolute truth, the fact they’d never talked about?
She couldn’t let him too close because it hurt too much.
Ten years ago, he’d told her not to expect anything more than a few nights of pleasure. He’d made no promises.
But she’d fallen in love with him anyway.
For a very brief period, she’d thought he would at least keep seeing her whenever he was in town, if only because they’d been so good together. Those nights had been the best of her life.
But the next time he came back to California on leave, he’d acted like nothing had happened between them. Just smiled politely and chatted about Aurora, like a wall had gone down behind his eyes.
He’d fucked her. Taken his fill. Three nights had been plenty. Then, he was done.
The heartbreak had nearly crushed her.
Yet her stupid, damaged heart still pined for him. Despite all the time that had passed, all the men she’d hoped would erase him, she only wanted Max.
Max Bennett. Her first love. And quite possibly her last. Wasn’t that depressing?
For now, she could handle the mouth-breathing creeper by herself. If things got worse, she’d call her friends in West Oaks P.D.
That was her plan. She already felt calmer.
She couldn’t afford to take her mind off the Hearst case. The hearing was tomorrow, and she had to be well-rested and ready.
Lana deleted the voicemail message without listening and went to bed.