Page 4 of Not Mine to Rescue

I nodded.

I studied her as she stood with her back to me to make arrangements to get me uncuffed and transferred to the courtroom.

Her thin legs and high heels created muscular lines for my eyes to travel up the subtly defined curves of each calf.

She wore a navy skirt suit. It stopped just below her knees. Conservative, but body-hugging as the narrow skirt cupped her ass. Walt would think her too scrawny, but he had to be slapped in the face to notice anything that wasn’t a benefit to him. The jacket tapered loosely at her waist. It was just baggy enough to whisper in my ear that she’d lost weight since it had been purchased. Her narrow wrists and ankles were almost too thin.

But other than that, Honoria was iron-willed and squarely planted.

Crazily, I wondered who was in her corner. I’d like to be that man. The guy jumping in front of her if trouble came at her with both barrels.

But she wouldn’t accept that. Not if her reaction to Jim was any indication.

Nope. Honoria was a fierce protector. She’d need a man who could deal with that.

What was I thinking?

She didn’t need a man at all. I’m sure her battery-operated boyfriend worked just fine. And if it didn’t, she’d toss it. Just like she’d tossed her husband.

Chapter Two

Honoria

Jim was late. I checked my watch for the third time. I’d practically lived at the courthouse for the last week because of one emergency after another. Everyone on staff had been covering for him, and the partners were getting nervous. Now, my weekend was about to begin, except it wasn’t because my ex-husband couldn’t be counted on to make meetings or court dates lately.

Obviously, they couldn’t fire him for taking familial leave, but these suddenly rescheduled cases were killing us. I’d taken on the bulk of the firm’s criminal cases almost as soon as his wife entered her seventh month.

Deep breath. I didn’t hate her.

While I told myself that, I tried to find the positive aspects. More cases meant I was finally getting recognized. I could dig myself out of the shadow I’d put myself in when I married Jim.

Five years, three months from the wedding, he announced our divorce to all and sundry. His girlfriend was pregnant.

He’d finally gotten what he wanted. A family.

I didn’t hate her.

I might hate him. The jury was still out on that.

He sued for custody of my pride and joy. Molly was three years old. Too trusting and too happy to understand what a rat bastard her “daddy” was by suing for primary custody.

“She’ll be with a stay at home mom and have a house with a yard she can play in,” he argued as our assets were divided. “You can have her on weekends. You’re married to your job anyway. You don’t have time for her.”

The divorce was final. I’d changed my name, letterhead, business cards, and lost the one sweet soul I truly loved.

Weekends. Because I wasn’t home often enough to take care of a dog. Especially not a full-sized Rough Collie who got separation anxiety if left alone.

But I’d been doing my research.

Part of our weekend was to visit a doggie daycare center. I was supposed to pick up Molly and take her to a farm where this sweet girl named Lemon ran a dog grooming and boarding service. She could manage five dogs during the week, and a spot recently opened up for Molly. If I could make the interview on time.

Molly whined behind the door. It was a special kind of cruelty to know she’d seen me walk up to the house, gotten her hopes up and then dashed. Because as much as I wanted her in my lap licking my face, she was behind a locked door. One I didn’t have the key for, and couldn’t break into. Because that would be wrong, right? I sat by the little column of windows next to the door so Molly could see me and my hand pressed against the glass. Her sharp barks were painful to hear.

With effort, I kept my voice calm. “I’m here. I just can’t get in until Jim calls me back.” She didn’t understand. I checked my phone. I should call him again. Calling wasn’t against the law. This was an emergency. At least for Molly, it was.

“It’s okay, sweetie. As soon as Daddy says I can get in, I’ll let you out.”

Strange. I could get notorious gang members out on bail, but I couldn’t pick up my own dog. Damn it.