She gathered up her courage to ask if he would be free for dinner.
Let me apologize for misjudging you.
Let me apologize by slowly untying your tie and unbuttoning your shirt. I’m very good at apologies.
He beat her to the punch, but not in the way she’d been hoping.
“Tiffani, nothing’s going to happen to you. I swear. I’ll be in the courtroom myself from now on.”
“But your job must keep you so busy. Do you really have that kind of time?”
“I’ll make it. I’ll be there every day you need me, for as long as you need me.”
A whistle cut through the air. She saw Theo’s coworker Colby striding up. He had a faintly manic grin on his face.
“Boss, the bomb squad’s going over the building with a fine-toothed comb. They’re not finding anything, so I still think we’re talking punk kids.”
“How old are you?” Martin said. “You’re too young to say ‘punk kids.’ You’re the wrong generation to say ‘punk kids.’”
“I grew up on the wrong side of the tracks, boss, I was a punk kid.”
“You grew up in Beverly Hills,” Martin said.
“I’m just saying I don’t think we’re going to turn up someone with an Anarchist’s Cookbook or a long history of angry letters to the editor. This isn’t all that serious. But the bomb squad’s all revved up to look in the wrong direction. They think that when they find the caller it’s going to turn out to be terrorism, maybe organized crime. I’m still thinking punk kids.”
“Any particular reason?” Martin said.
Colby’s grin only intensified. “Nah. Just that this whole thing has a general whiff of immaturity. Can I look into it some more, boss?”
“As much as you like,” Martin said. He seemed relieved. “I like having you out on the hunt, to be honest, and I trust you not to come down too hard on kids. Even punk kids. The courtroom security will have to be increased while you’re out chasing leads, but we can handle that.”
“Gretchen and Theo?”
“I’m going to do it myself.”
“That’s a lot of standing in a corner and staring at people,” Colby said. “For an old warhorse like you.”
Martin smiled. It was a nice smile, one that made the corners of his eyes wrinkle up. He didn’t have enough laughlines for a man his age, and Tiffani wanted, suddenly and intensely, to help him acquire them.
“I’m glad you’re feeling optimistic about catching our suspect, Colby, but don’t push me.”
“I never push,” Colby said, apparently completely genuine. He tossed Martin a salute, one just a little too crisp to have come from anything other than a real military background. “I’m going to go make this particular prank caller wish he’d never crossed paths with me. And I’m going to do it with a smile on my face and a song in my heart.”
He went off. He had a distinctive walk, more fluid than anyone else’s Tiffani had ever seen. For some reason it made her think of a nature documentary.
“He’s taking this pretty personally,” Tiffani said.
Martin nodded. “He got assigned to the courtroom this morning, so it’s his. And he’s got a protective streak a mile wide.” He offered her a sheepish smile. “We all do, really.”
“It’s nice,” she said, meaning it with her whole heart. “The world could do with a little protecting.”
It was good to be reminded that there were people out there actively trying
to make the world better. No matter how frustrated she might get, she should remember that. There was a lot of good to balance the bad.
The choice that had given her Gordon had also given her Jillian, the best daughter and best friend anyone could ever ask for. Today had given her stomach-churning anxiety and fear—but also butterflies in her stomach. It had given her McMillan but also Martin.
All the clouds in the world couldn’t block out all the sky.