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I’m not sure what the fuck there is to get oriented with—he just gave me the grand tour—five offices, a cubicle farm, and a front desk where the office manager keeps her huge tub of candy. I’m guessing she doesn’t only offer it up to children, because I’ve already had it lifted toward me three times.
“Thanks,” I say, holding my hand out for a shake.
Freeman pumps it enthusiastically, then adds, “And thank you for getting all of your paperwork filled out for HR.”
There is no HR—it’s another hat worn by Wendy of the candy bowl, but I smile at him.
“Of course.”
At Freeman & Daniels, coverage begins on the first day of the next month after employment. Tomorrow is February 1, so it begins tomorrow. Izzy can get her surgery. I’ll be able to help her and ease Ruthie’s mind, which is only fair, since she’s helping me.
Thinking about that, I feel a swell of warmth. Hell, I feel downright gracious toward Freeman, even though there’s something about him that makes me uncomfortable. Maybe I just think someone this nice must be playing at something. That’s what life has taught me to believe.
Freeman pats me on the back one final time, proceeds to pat Michael on the back, and then heads for the door. He pauses in the frame and turns with a big grin.
Does the legal beagle ever frown? The ornery part of me would like to test the theory—and another part of me, the part that I buried nearly twenty years ago, doesn’t ever want to find out. That’s the side of me that likes Freeman and wants, begrudgingly, for him to like me.
“Say, everyone enjoys going to a psychic. Why don’t you see if your client will come to the dinner on Friday evening and do a team-building exercise for us?”
“I don’t believe she’s known for giving…pleasant fortunes, sir.”
“Oh, that’s neither here nor there, son,” he dismisses with a wave of his hand. “I’m not someone who likes getting smoke blown up my behind. It would help everyone unwind from the work week.”
“I’ll talk to her,” I say, although I hope I can avoid doing any such thing. She’s already infiltrated my life to an alarming degree.
He nods, smiles, and then leaves.
Neither Michael nor I say anything for a solid minute.
Finally, he gives me a pointed look and says, “I’m surprised you hired me. I could get you into trouble.”
The fact that he is capable of both bullshitting and cutting directly to the point is one of the reasons I value him. I nod. “But we’re going to work together, and I’d rather you knew the score going in.” I give him a woeful smile. “Although if you’ve changed your mind, I won’t hold it against you. This place is… It’s like what you’d get if there were a lawyer’s office in Candyland and people paid in licorice sticks.”
He laughs. “I’ve got no problem with people being nice to me. It’s a refreshing change.”
“You don’t think people can be too nice?” I ask, thinking of my conversation with Danny.
“I guess we’re both about to find out.” He shakes his head. It’s obvious he thinks I’m crazy, and maybe he’s onto something. I definitely have an attitude about this place—a chip on my shoulder about Freeman.
Michael lifts his eyebrows, two shades darker than his hair. “Did she like the ruby?”
“Look,” I say. “You’re going to meet Ruthie sooner or later, so I’m going to tell you right now that she doesn’t know the ring is real. I’d prefer it if you weren’t the one to tell her.”
His eyebrows lift higher, like they have a mind to disappear into his hair. He gives a whistle, then says, “She thinks that stone is fake?”
His affront is real, and I have to laugh. “Not everyone’s a gemologist. I’m guessing she hasn’t given it a second thought because she wouldn’t think I’d get a real ring for…” I shrug.
He studies me, his gaze shrewd. “So why did you? My old bosses would fillet me for saying so, but there are fakes that look the same. No one would question you, and you’d have saved yourself thousands.”
I can’t tell him what I don’t know. The only explanation I have is that it seemed important for Ruthie to have a ring that was special and real. It’s a dangerous thought about a dangerous woman, and I shrug it off. “She’s helping me out. I figured she could keep it. Have something nice for herself.”
He watches me for a second before saying, “There’s not much you can do with an engagement ring if you’re not engaged or married. If she hawks it, she’ll get less than half its value.” He angles his head. “But you’d know all of that.”
I clear my throat, trying to ignore the way my skin is prickling. Like he’s said something worthy of notice. “Why don’t you go out there and figure out whether there’s any coffee? Our client’s going to be here in less than an hour, and I’m warning you right now, she’ll make this place seem normal.”
His gaze is almost pitying as he says, “Shane, with all due respect, I think it is normal.”
Michael probably wants to take that back half an hour later, when Josie and her boyfriend are seated across from us in my cramped office. I have a notebook out, but I have yet to write anything down.
