I stare at her, my beautiful Mia, her long dark hair around her shoulders, and I understand the question she hasn’t fully vocalized. She wants me to decide for her. She wants me to tell her to hold onto the case or let it go, and fuck, I want her to let it go. Delaney was just on the television. Mia will be in the press with her, and they will push her to talk about Ri. They will push her in all kinds of ways that might affect her in ways she doesn’t yet realize.
And even beyond that, the underground operation could use this to attack her and play it off as some crazy protestor. I want her to take this deal with Reese, but Reese will steal her spotlight and I made the mistake of pulling her from a case against her will once before to protect her. I won’t do that again. “It’s your call, Mia. It’s your case.”
“It’s your company.”
“And you’re about to be my wife.”
“That doesn’t change the business side of this. Grayson—”
“This is your case and your decision.”
“I want your opinion,” she counters.
“And I want you to do what feels right to you, Mia, not me. This isn’t about me.”
Her lips press together. “Stubborn man,” she snaps and turns back to the table, inhaling before she makes her decision. “This isn’t well-timed for the firm and I’m not Delaney’s best path to freedom. I haven’t fully processed that fact until now. This has all happened so quickly, but sitting here right now, I know that’s true. Honestly, Reese, she’d be better off with you. And this is a high-profile feather in your cap if you get her off. I believe her. I know you will as well. If you would consider taking the case—when can you meet her?”
He eyes me and then Mia. “Delaney feels comfortable with you, Mia. We should co-counsel, but I need to be upfront about a few things. I’d want to see the evidence and meet your client. Does she fully inherit?”
“Not fully,” Mia says, “but a hefty sum of money.”
Reese grimaces. “The family will try to take it if she’s convicted or even if she takes a deal.”
“They’ll try to take it if she gets off free and clear,” Cat murmurs.
“She and I have talked about this,” Mia replies. “I think she needs to go to trial. She has a daughter she doesn’t want to put through this. That in itself should tell you this isn’t about the money to her.”
“We need to change her mind,” Reese replies, “because the family might even go after her daughter’s money if she inherited. That said, though, frankly, with my present schedule, if she agrees to trial, we’ll need to move the trial based on my schedule. I’m booked six months out and bringing me in after what just happened to you will be an easy sell to the courts.”
“When can we do the meet and greet?” Mia asks. “I need to know what I’m doing when and so does Delaney.”
“I’m due back in court this afternoon. I should be able to do coffee at seven in the morning. Can you get her here? They have a coffee and breakfast service.”
Mia turns to search my face, and I don’t know what she’s looking for or what she finds, but she turns back to Reese and says, “Perfect. I believe she’ll be better off with you, Reese. She won’t need me once she meets you and Cat. I’m going to call my client now.” She snakes her phone from her purse and stands up, walking toward the bar.
Relief washes over me at a decision that takes her out of emotional and physical danger, but it’s immediately followed by guilt. She just gave up a career-making case, when her own success and identity has always been important to her. I get that. I understand that need. She just gave this case away for me, not for herself, and not for her client. That doesn’t work for her, me, Delaney, or us as a couple.
I stand up and pursue Mia, determined to catch her before she makes that call to Delaney, but I’m not the only one pursuing her. A tall man in a leather jacket charges in her direction.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Mia
A sudden fight-or-flight sensation has me whipping around to find a big man in a leather jacket, well over six feet and two hundred pounds of pure muscle, charging at me. My heart jumps up into my throat, and a small sound lodges right there with it. I back up and hit a stool as the man stops dead in his tracks in front of me. “Sorry.” He offers an apologetic smile, lines crinkling on his sunbaked fortyish skin. “I didn’t mean to startle you there.”