Chapter Six
Tuesday morning came all too soon. Izzy hiked her work satchel higher on her shoulder and cursed herself for not wearing flats.
The emergency ballet slip-ons in her bottom desk drawer were calling her name.
As her heels pinched mercilessly with every step down the sidewalk, she promised she’d change into them the second she dragged herself the last mile to her building.
She should feel refreshed after a long weekend. But somehow, she felt worse. Her body was sun-kissed, her phone full of group selfies, but her mind? Still a hollow drum echoing one name. Christopher fucking Macklin.
The margaritas had worked on almost everything, her tension, her ambition, her balance, but they hadn’t touched that. He’d lingered like the aftertaste of all that tequila. It was sharp, unexpected, and unshakable.
Worse, Kelly had texted her late Monday night with a message that sent her stomach into a freefall.
Kelly: FYI, Mr. Macklin requested a different attorney for his future interviews. Thought you should know.
It shouldn’t matter. This was good news. He was difficult, stubborn to the point of absurdity. Infuriating in a way that made her want to throw her hands up and walk out of the room half the time.
Chris was resistant to help, to logic, to anything that didn’t come from within his own guarded world. By all accounts, she should be thrilled to have a little distance.
Afterall, she had done nothing to warrant his request. She’d been calm. Other than a few slip ups, she’d been professional and thorough. Was it her tone? Her background? Her gender? All the above?
She’d spent the night lying awake in bed replaying every conversation, every question, every look. She hated how personal it felt. How it felt like law school all over again. Floundering to find a way to fit her too loud, too explosive personality into a neat little box.
Marcus had declined his request, brushing it off in his usual cool way: “No one else at Ms. Cruz’s level is available.” A backhanded compliment if there ever was one.
She was both relieved and irritated. Relieved she wasn’t being replaced. That she still had a chance to prove that she was partner material. Irritated that she still had to face him. That she wanted to and not for the right reasons. Because her thoughts hadn’t been about his guilt. Not entirely.
They’d been about that cutting stare. About how he looked when he wasn't glaring. About whether he could even smile, and what it might take to make him try.
He’s a client. A possibly dangerous one. Not a dating-app match.
Shaking off the absurdity, she quickened her pace. A man held the door open as she entered the building.
“Thank you,” she said absently, swiping her ID and gliding through the turnstile.
In the elevator, she exhaled and forced a neutral expression. Time to put the big girl pants officially back on. Stepping onto her floor, the first thing she saw was Kelly.
“Morning, gorgeous!” her favorite paralegal beamed.
“Hey, Kel.” She mustered a smile. “How was your weekend?”
“Boring,” he said, falling into step beside her. “Alexis and I went golfing. But I need to know everything about yours.”
“It was great.” She tried to sound light, breezy, like her chest didn’t still feel constricted by the weight of everything.
Kelly’s knowing look cut straight through her.
“Mm-hmm,” he said, unconvinced. “You’re lucky I love you, because that lie was offensive.”
Truthfully, it had been a beautiful weekend.
Perfect even. However, instead of returning feeling whole, she’d come back with a clearer view of everything she was missing.
Her life, on paper, looked impressive. She was independent, successful, and a little powerful. But sometimes, it just felt ... empty.
Lianna had stepped back from her career and was thriving.
She was on her way to marriage, with two great kids, a garden, and a glow Izzy couldn’t replicate no matter how many promotions she stacked under her name.
While she didn’t want a husband or toddlers right now, she couldn’t help but wonder, was this all there was?
“Okay,” Kelly said, mercifully backing off. “I’ll go grab you a coffee. You clearly need caffeine before the juicy bits start pouring out.”
Izzy laughed. “Thanks Kel, I could use a coffee. Is Mr. Macklin here yet? I don’t think he was very happy that I kept him waiting a whole thirty seconds last week.”
“Actually, he’s not coming in. Your meeting is now a call,” Kelly said.
“Oh,” Isabela tried to figure out why she felt disappointed. “Did he say why?”
“Nope, left a message. Call is the same time though,” Kelly looked down at his watch. “Starts in fifteen minutes, so I’ll be right back with your coffee.” With that he took off down the hall.
Isabela entered her office and got herself settled. The phone rang just as Kelly returned with her steaming latte. Izzy grabbed the phone, while mouthing ‘thank you’ to her paralegal. He smiled, set the caffeine on her desk and then closed the door behind him.
“Good morning, this is Isabela Cruz,” she said.
Expecting Mr. Macklin, she was surprised to hear Marcus’s voice.
“Hi Ms. Cruz, you sound chipper today,” her boss teased.
“I didn’t even look at the caller ID,” she laughed. “I have a call at eight thirty and assumed that’s who was on the line.”
“Then I’ll keep this brief. I was able to set up a meeting with the Torres Family.”
“What! How the hell did you pull that off?” Izzy wondered aloud.
“The family’s attorney, Luke Barrett, owes me a favor. Still took some arm wrestling, but he got them to agree to a brief meeting in our offices. Barrett is calling me back with a date and time but confirmed it would be before the end of the week.”
“Oh my God, Marcus, but why would they want to meet with us?”
Lorenzo Torres was the head of the Torres family and brother of Hector Torres.
Why he wanted to meet with the law firm that was representing his brother’s killer was beyond her.
However, the prospect of gaining some insight into the victim’s point of view was too compelling to deny just because it would be an awkward meeting.
Marcus responded, “To feel us out I assume. Lorenzo is a man of the people. He always wants to look good in the public eye. I assume showing civility toward us is a way of doing that. I’m sure Barrett is hoping to slip us up and get a read on our defense.”
The phone beeped and this time Izzy did look at the caller ID. It was an unlisted number, but she knew it was Mr. Macklin.
Marcus continued, “I need you to prepare a list of questions or possible angles for this meeting. We get one shot at the Torres family, so we need to get this right. Let’s make some time this afternoon to put our heads together.”
The incoming call disconnected before Izzy could interrupt her boss.
“That sounds good. I have time after four today to put some talking points together. Is it just Lorenzo and Luke Barrett?”
“Possibly Mrs. Torres, but she stays out of the usual business dealings. It will be a toss-up if she shows.
The phone beeped with an incoming call from an unlisted number again. Izzy looked at the time and swore under her breath.
“Perfect, listen Marcus, my eight thirty is calling in now. It’s Christopher Macklin and he gets crabby when I’m late.”
“Great timing, find out what, if anything, Christopher knew about Hector Torres before he was assigned to the case. He was a late addition. The lead detective assigned to the case, Randall Hurts, requested Macklin’s assistance after Hector was arrested.
I’m guessing because of his experience and stellar record getting guilty verdicts in the Special Crime Unit.
But make sure there were no run-ins between the men before that. ”
The incoming call disconnected again. Damn it. But Isabela could hardly hang up on her boss.
“Got it. I’ll fill you in when we chat this afternoon,” Izzy promised and finally was able to end the call with Marcus.
Isabela took a deep breath and picked up the phone to call Christopher back.
As she put her fingers to the numbers, she realized she didn’t know the number.
Frantically scrolling through her notes, she found his cell number and dialed as fast as she could.
Izzy was pissed at herself for feeling nervous, it was eight thirty-eight.
She was less than ten minutes behind schedule.
Just as Isabela assumed that the call would go to voicemail, his harsh voice answered.
“Macklin.”
“Good morning, this is Isabela Cruz calling for our eight thirty meeting.”
“Ah, that started eight minutes ago. I assumed you were still on vacation and made other plans for this morning.”
As Isabela’s blood began to heat, she knew dealing with this man was either going to make or break her.
****
By the time noon rolled around Isabela needed some fresh air. Standing from her desk, she stretched and went in search of Kelly.
She found him about to take a bite from something in a Tupperware container.
“Stop!” Isabela yelled.
Kelly dropped the fork on his keyboard and whipped his head to look at Izzy.
“I need you to back away from the healthy leftovers you brought from home and accompany me to an overpriced lunch.”
When he narrowed his eyes at her, she sweetened the pot, “Fine, I’ll pay.”
“And...” Kelly prodded.
“And I’ll tell you all the juicy details from girl’s weekend.”
“It’s a deal if you also tell me why you were yelling at Mr. Macklin on the phone this morning,” Kelly said, lifting his brows.
Izzy winced, “You heard that, huh?”
“Yes, darling, I did.”
“Fine, I got to hit the ladies room and then let’s go to The Pasta Room. It’s a comfort food kinda day,” Izzy said, already headed for the bathroom.
Twenty minutes later, Isabela and Kelly sat at a little table overlooking the street.
“This is so much better than the salmon leftovers I was going to eat,” Kelly said, taking a big bite of his chicken alfredo.
“Ew, Kel, seriously? Salmon? Who eats salmon leftovers?” Izzy gave a dramatic shiver.
“What’s wrong with salmon leftovers?” he asked.
“You can’t eat fish the next day,” Izzy chided.
“Say’s who?” Kelly said, wiping his mouth.
“Say’s me. You are so lucky I saved you from that.”
“Speaking of ... dish.” Kelly demanded.
“It was a fun weekend. I probably drank too much though. Every time I say, never again, but this time I mean it. I have a self-imposed two drink limit.
“Yeah, right. Anyway, I’m way more interested in why you were so upset with a client this morning that I could hear you through the closed door.”
Kelly eyed her suspiciously.
“Wouldn’t you rather hear about my girlfriend Maisy getting so drunk she danced on top of a pool table?”
“Nope,” heavy emphasis on the p.
Izzy sighed, “Kel, he is honestly so rude. You know I usually keep my cool, but that man pushes my buttons!”
“I bet he does,” Kelly said, before taking another huge bite of pasta.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Iz, everyone likes you, and I mean everyone. You are always smiling, making people happy. Clients fill out the exit survey for you because they want to give you five stars. Now suddenly, Mr. Macklin walks in and gets a reaction out of you. It’s not like you.”
“Wouldn’t that mean he is the problem, not me?”
“His emails are always respectful to me,” Kelly said with a shrug.
Pushing the pieces of broken pasta noodles around on her plate, she knew what really bothered her. “I asked him why he requested a new attorney. He said based on my vacation time he wasn’t confident that I could handle his case. I just ... I can’t imagine that reflected well with Marcus.”
Kelly made a face, and it hit too close to home. The vulnerability that maybe she wasn’t capable. She rushed ahead, cutting him off before he could offer one of his easy, well-meaning reassurances.
“Then when I asked why he didn’t return any of the new client information sheets he said he doesn’t remember receiving any paperwork,” Izzy complained.
“I emailed over the paperwork, and I’m pretty sure he responded with a thank you.”
“He plays games, wastes time. I’m not sure why he is even bothering.”
Kelly wiped sauce from his mouth. “Uh, maybe because he is innocent. Just cause the man is a dick doesn’t make him guilty.”
“We are meeting, in person, tomorrow morning because I have zero confidence that he will fill out the paperwork. After you resend it, please,” Izzy smiled.
“So, now I must babysit him, ask question by question so I have something to present to the partners next week. I swear if this man makes me look bad...”
Kelly patted her hand. “Sorry, he does sound like a pain in the ass. Or like a man who is frustrated and unfortunately taking it out on you. But of all people, I would think you could handle that.”
When Izzy went to defend herself, Kelly pushed on, “that’s a compliment, not an insult. Maybe you need a good sleep, or a good date,” Kelly winked. “You seem really stressed and I hate to see you frazzled.”
“Yeah well, there will be no more frazzling! When we meet tomorrow, I’m laying down the law. The sooner he gives me the information I need to build a case for him, the sooner we never have to see each other again.”
Kelly looked sympathetic, and that pissed Isabela off more than Macklin’s clipped tone ever could. Because after this morning’s meeting, there was nothing she wanted more than to never see him again.
Tomorrow, though, there would be no buffer. No phone line to hide behind, no excuses. Face-to-face, Christopher Macklin would have to deal with her. God help them both if he pushed her one button too far. One of them was going to break and she prayed it wouldn’t be her.