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“Overruled,” said the judge, and Daniel couldn’t help a small smile of pride.
Amanda flipped through her notes.
Daniel was pretty sure it was all for show. The set of her shoulders told him she wasn’t refreshing her memory. She knew exactly where she was going.
She looked up again. “Are you further aware, Mr. Radaski, that Westlake Construction owes my client four thousand, two hundred and eighty-six dollars in back overtime and holiday pay?”
“We had a verbal agreement,” the witness sputtered.
“A verbal agreement of that nature has no force under New York labor law. Mr.
Radaski, according to the accounting firm of Smith and Stafford, Westlake Construction owes current and former employees a total of one hundred and seventy-one thousand, six hundred and sixty-one dollars in back pay.”
Radaski blinked at Amanda.
“Your Honor,” she said, lifting a thick sheaf of papers from the table. “I would like to enter this actuarial report as exhibit D. My client wishes, at this time, to launch a countercomplaint against Westlake Construction for a settlement in the amount of one thousand, two hundred and eighty-six dollars, being the balance owed to her for unpaid overtime and holidays.”
“But she stole three thousand dollars,” shouted Jack Burnside from the galley.
The judge pounded his gavel.
Amanda’s lips quirked in a small smile. “I’ll be contacting current and former employees to ascertain their interest in a class action lawsuit.”
The judge gazed at the prosecuting lawyer.
“I’d like to request a recess to confer with my client.”
“I guess you would,” said the judge. He brought the gavel down once again. “This case is adjourned until three o’clock Thursday afternoon.”
Daniel quickly slipped out the door of the courtroom.
Okay, he could see the appeal. But surely those Perry Mason moments were few and far between.
Still, she was good.
Amanda stared at the small cardboard card that had accompanied a bouquet of twenty-four red roses.
Congratulations!
Puzzled, she flipped it over.
Saw you in court today. If I ever take up bank robbing, you’ll be the first person I call.
—D
Daniel.
“Mr. Delectable?” asked Julie, breezing through the door with a stack of files.
“They’re from Daniel,” Amanda confirmed.
Julie leaned over to smell the roses. “This time you definitely have to do him
on the desktop.”
Amanda smiled at Julie’s irreverence. “Daniel’s not that kind of guy.”
Julie toyed with the looped chain of her black choker. “It’s a proven fact, sending red roses to an office means a guy wants to do it on the desktop.”
“Where do you get these facts?”
“Didn’t you read last month’s Cosmo?”
Amanda cleared a space on the credenza for the flowers. “Afraid I missed it.”
“I’ll get you my copy.”
Amanda set down the vase. “What do yellow roses mean?”
“Huh?”
“If a guy sends yellow roses to an office, what does that mean?”
Julie grinned. “Yellow means they want to do it on the desktop. Come to think of it, breathing means they want to do it on the desktop.”
“Not Daniel.” Amanda couldn’t imagine any possible circumstances under which Daniel would make love on a desktop. It would be sacrilegious.
“Try him,” Julie advised with a waggle of her dark eyebrows. “You’ll be surprised.”
“Daniel’s not a surprise kind of guy.”
“Were you expecting the roses?”
Amanda paused. “Nope. I have to admit, those were a surprise.”
“There you go,” said Julie.
“He’s my ex.” Amanda wasn’t doing Daniel on the desktop or anywhere else. Bad enough that she’d kissed him.
“But he’s hot.”
He was hot all right. And he was still a fabulous kisser. And, unless she’d lost her mind, he’d responded to her kiss.
Which meant he was interested, too. Which meant they were both in big trouble.
“Amanda?”
Amanda blinked. “Hmm?”
Julie grinned. “You think he’s hot, too.”
“I think I’m late for a meeting.”
A visit with Karen wasn’t exactly a meeting, but as soon as Amanda walked out onto the veranda at The Tides, she was glad she’d come.
Karen was sitting on a deck chair with albums and photographs scattered around her.
“There you are,” said Karen, pulling a brochure out of the mess. “I couldn’t decide between a pedicure and reflexology.”
“What are you doing?”
“I got us into Eduardo’s for the twenty-fifth, but we should book our appointments early. You want a facial?”
“Sure,” said Amanda, sitting in one of the other chairs. Now that she’d decided to do the spa weekend, she was getting a little excited about it.
Karen gestured to a pitcher of iced tea on a side table. “Thirsty?”
Amanda stood up again. “I’d love some. You want a refill?”
“Please.” Karen put down the brochure and sat back in the padded chair. “Tell me about the world.”
“The entire world?”
“Your world.”
Amanda filled Karen’s tall glass. “I won a case this morning.”
“Congratulations.”
“It’s not exactly official yet. The judge will rule on Thursday, but I threatened Westlake Construction with a class action suit. They’ll cave.”
“Was that the Mary something embezzlement trial?”
Amanda nodded. “Sweet woman. Single mom, three kids. Nobody’s served by her going to jail for six months.”
“But she stole some money, right?”
Amanda sat down again. “She provided herself with an advance on holiday pay owed.”
Karen grinned. “Will you be my lawyer?”
“You don’t need a lawyer.”
“I might. I’m bored. I’m thinking of taking up bank robbing.”
“You been talking to Daniel?”
Karen’s eyes sparkled. “No, have you?”
Amanda instantly regretted the impulsive joke. But backing off would only make Karen press harder.
“He sent me flowers,” Amanda admitted. “He mentioned bank robbing, too. Is there something about the Elliott fortune you’re not telling me?”
“What kind of flowers?”
“Roses.”
“Red?”
“Yes.”
“Holy cow.”
“It’s not what you think.” Not that Amanda had any clue as to what she was supposed to think.
“How can it not be what I think?” asked Karen. “A dozen?”
Amanda hesitated. “Two.”
“Two dozen red roses.”
“They were congratulatory.”
“Congratulatory for what?” Her eyes went wide. “What did you two do?”
Amanda quickly waved off the question. “It’s nothing like that. He came to watch me in court. I won the case. He sent flowers.”
Karen straightened one of the albums in front of her. “Daniel watched you in court?”
Amanda nodded.
“What for?”
“Beats me.” She took a sip of the iced tea. “And, I tell you, he’s making me nervous again. After the Taylor Hopkins thing, he said he was going to back off.”
“What Taylor Hopkins thing?”
“Daniel invited Taylor to dinner, and Taylor gave me an indoctrination into the cult of the almighty dollar.”
“Well, Taylor’s definitely the guy to do it,” said Karen. “Have you seen his new house?”
“Nope.”
Karen sat forward and flipped a couple of pages in one of the albums. “Here it is.”
Amanda stood up, coming around beside Karen. “Nice.”
“It’s on the shore. Fantastic tennis courts.”
It was a nice house. But Amanda had never been overly impressed with expensive real estate. She glanced at the pictures of the extended Elliott Family. “What a wonderful picture of Scarlet and Summer.”
“That was taken last year. Somehow we all ended up at Martha’s Vineyard. Bridget went wild with the camera.”
“Who’s that with Gannon?”
“His date. I can’t even remember her name. It was between rounds with Erika.”
The mention of Erika reminded Karen of Gannon’s recent wedding. “You have wedding pictures?”
“I sure do.” Karen switched albums, opening to a formal shot of the bride and groom.
“Gorgeous dress,” Amanda commented.
“She’s a wonderful woman,” said Karen. “So good for Gannon.”
On the next page was a family shot. Amanda’s gaze stopped on Daniel. He looked magnificent in a tux.
Then she saw the woman standing next to him.
“Oops,” said Karen. “Sharon showed up. Nobody quite knew what to do about that.”
Amanda squinted at her ex’s ex. Sharon was petite and thin, with sculpted blond
hair an expensive shade of platinum.
She looked younger than forty. Her makeup was perfect, and her dress fairly dripped with silver sequins. The spray of flowers in her hair made her a competitor for the bride.
“I’m nothing like her, am I?” asked Amanda, suddenly overtaken by a wave of inadequacy.
“You’re nothing like her,” said Karen. “Thank goodness.”
