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“Damn. Hopefully Dirk had someone record it on their phone for him. Was this the first time you’ve been to something like that, Les? Did you enjoy it?”
The direct question took her off guard, but she didn’t sense anything catty, just a friendly openness. “Yes. I liked being there with Brick. I think I’d like to do more things like that. With him.”
The repetition might seem like she was throwing out territorial markers, but the feelings were honest. Fortunately, Tish seemed to take it that way, and her response surprised Les further.
“If you’re up for it next time you visit, we could get together, with Doms or without. If I can help with any questions on the submissive side of things, I’ll do it. A lot of this is new to me, too. We can swap what-the-fuck stories. Sound good?”
Les blinked. “You’re very hard not to like.”
“The defense attorneys I face might not agree. And full disclosure, I have an ulterior motive. I want to learn all the embarrassing teenage stories about Brick.”
Brick scoffed. “Ain’t happening, counselor. For one thing, there are none. My teen coolness factor was legendary.”
“Les is snickering.”
Les feigned innocence as Brick shot an exaggerated glare toward her. “You’re going to get her into trouble,” he said.
Tish laughed. “Trouble with you is the right girl’s best dream. Anyhow, lay your ‘what if’ on me. I’ve got a conference call in fifteen.”
The light moment vanished. Les wasn’t sure how to explain the situation without revealing too much or too little, but then she remembered Brick had said she could jump in if he missed anything. He proceeded to detail the situation thoroughly and concisely, an investigator used to writing reports.
Tish asked only a couple questions to clarify some points. Les stared at the dash as she listened to them, her hands tight on her shins.
“Give me a moment to think here. And deal with what my admin just brought me. Yeah, Jordan, just courier that over to them. Two-day is fine, but make sure accounting gives you the check to put into the package. Thanks.”
Brick’s knuckle brushed Les’s clenched hand. “Ease up,” he murmured. “Relax. It’s okay. We’re just talking. No decision needed.”
He hooked one of her fingers, so she had to let go of her leg and hold his hand instead. She adjusted so their linked hands rested on his denim-covered thigh.
“Okay.” Tish was back. “I’m going to state the obvious. Your safest bet is no contact.”
“I know,” Les responded. “But if it’s just us, just talking, no recording, that kind of thing…”
“It would still be admissible, because you said it directly to her. A good attorney would point out it was he said, she said, or in this case, she said, she said, but under the threat of perjury, neither of you is supposed to lie.”
“So it comes down to whether I trust her or not. Play it safe or take the risk.”
“Yes and no. You also have to factor in your responsibility to the hospital, and the other parties named in the suit.”
Shit. Which was pretty much a deal breaker. Still… “Is there anything that outweighs those considerations?”
“I think that’s something only you can answer, Les. I can only tell you what the smart thing is to do legally.” A pause. “If you decide to do this, and again, it’s not something I’d recommend, don’t discuss any medical details. Don’t bait that liability hook. If she’s there to vent, let her do all the talking. If she wants you to talk, keep it to emotional offerings of support.”
Les stared at their linked hands. When Brick squeezed her fingers, a question, she nodded. She knew what she needed to know.
“Thanks, Tish,” Brick said. “I’ll touch base with you when I get back after Easter.”
“Okay. And Les? I’m so sorry you’re having to go through this. When someone I know is guilty walks, I always think about tactics or information I should have pursued or anticipated. Those cases keep me up at night, because we won’t get another shot at that piece of garbage until he or she hurts someone else. I know it’s not the same, but just saying. Living with that kind of thing can be a bitch. We can what-the-fuck about those stories, too. Over tequila.”
“Thanks. It doesn’t help but it helps, if that makes sense.”
“It does. Hang in there.”
When Brick clicked off, Les pulled the number out of the pocket of her purse, where she’d carefully tucked it. “So…the smartest thing would be to tear this up.”
“Yeah.” He offered her the container of fries. “Take a couple more before I finish them.”
She dutifully took two and dipped them in the ketchup he’d put between them. “Want a Reese’s peanut butter cup freeze for the road?” he asked.
