57. CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
The next afternoon, I call Vance and demand a meeting. He forced me to stick around to analyze their case, but his courier is working on another one. His assistant says he can’t see me for two days. As if I’m sitting in this villa with my thumb up my arse.
I’ve made use of the time to draw up the legal documents needed for Riordan’s daughter, who they named Saoirse Rose.
My eyes never wander far from my phone.
Jillian has iced me out and Johnny’s account on the app is silent. She’s not begging him for another fantasy.
I’m losing her…
When Vance’s assistant keeps me on hold, I hang up and grab my suit jacket.
At the guard’s desk in the D.A.’s building, where I wait an infuriating twenty minutes on a line, I say through gritted teeth, “Daniel Vance. Tell him Eoghan O’Rourke is here to see him, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”
I half expect the minimum wage civil servant to tell me to fuck off. But the tone of my voice signals I’m a man of power. The guard makes the call, and with an impressive set of balls, repeats my message to Vance.
The guard nods, taps into a computer and a sticker badge, the most insulting thing ever, spits out. My shoulders relax as I remind myself where I am. There’s nothing stopping me from ending up in handcuffs.
“Sixth floor, sir.”
“Thank you.” Slapping the stupid sticker on my brand new five-thousand-dollar silk suit jacket, I strut to the elevator.
Vance’s floor and the entire building is banal to the point I want to vomit. My office has plush carpet, elegant jacquard wall covering, and expensive artwork. From the look of the dingy, unadorned walls, this place hasn’t seen a fresh coat of paint in twenty years.
Sauntering down a center aisle to reach Daniel’s back corner office, my eyes scan the area looking for Jillian’s shape. But when I don’t see her, my heart sinks.
In Daniel’s office, I see he’s waiting for me, and I brace myself.
“O’Rourke,” he greets me gruffly, clearly pissed that I forced this meeting.
“Vance.” I don’t shake his hand. “I wrote you one brief, you rejected it. I asked Jillian to let me see your evidence, but she’s too busy to meet with me.” Saying her name kills me. “I’m going back to New York on Friday.”
And taking her with me. Tied up if I have to.
Vance narrows his eyes. “I can charge your brother with kidnapping.”
I step forward and push his door closed so no one hears me. “He’s in Ireland. It will take years for you to get an extradition order for him.”
Vance studies me and then looks away. “Jillian had an emergency,” he says, rounding his desk to take a seat. “She’s taking some time off.”
My stomach twists. Emergency? Did I hurt her the last night? Was I too rough?
“What kind of emergency?” I ask as calmly as I can.
“I don’t owe you an explanation.”
Snarling, I can’t look at this lickarse anymore. Banging to get out, I almost smash the glass door and hike down the aisle. I need to find Jillian.
“Where is Lead Deputy Diamond?” I ask a woman sitting outside Jillian’s empty office, my voice low as my sanity unhinges.
The woman goes stock still looking at me the way others have, knowing there’s no escape. And talking might save their life. “She went home to pack. Her mother’s in the hospital.”
Vance appears behind me. “Our mother is in the hospital, if you must know.”
Why didn’t she say something?
“What happened?” I ask, facing him.
“None of your business.” Vance looks to be in his forties, but that gives me no indication how old his mother is. Or what could be wrong with her.
Jillian is home and I’m here. What a waste of time.
“Evidence packets now, Vance. I can give a shit for this case. I’m a fucking Harvard lawyer. I’m out of patience at this insulting—”
He drags me into Jillian’s office and her scent weakens me. “Borgia can appeal or ask for a dismissal if it gets out that I showed confidential evidence outside this office.”
I bite my tongue because he’s right.
“You have certified couriers for the transmittal of court documents?” I step back.
“Of course.”
“Get them to Jillian’s apartment, right now.” I poke his chest, testing my luck.
He wrinkles his forehead. “I just said, she’s taking time off to visit our mother.”
Yet, he’s not leaving here, and he doesn’t look upset.
“And I’m going with her, if you want to beat the clock on your statute of limitation problem.”