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Ryker chuckled at the truth of Chris’ words. What had actually happened was a bit different. As a successful attorney and former military man, the conference committee had invited him to speak at this professional conference on military law. After earning his law degree, Ryker had spent twelve years in the Army. Those years had included three combat deployments as the field JAG officer weaving his way, delicately, through Middle Eastern law as it pertained to U.S. personnel.
Now, at 40, he owned a thriving law practice with two junior but up-and-coming attorneys serving civilian and military clients. Ryker knew well that the achievement, so early in his career, was impressive. To a man like Ryker, public speaking should have been second nature. But standing at the podium, with the spotlight shining in his eyes, Ryker’s mouth went dry, and his hands felt clammy. This subject was important. His intro was done, and Chris had started the applause. Ryker stood at the podium after shaking Chris’ hand. He waited until the room quieted.
“Good afternoon,” Ryker began, his voice resonating throughout the room.
There was a ripple of unease in the far right of the audience, and Ryker stopped speaking to re-assess the area. He could see several of his military friends were in different stages of rising and heading for the skirmish. Ryker had to control his desire to step into the fray as well.
In the far corner of the conference room was an uneasiness, then what appeared as a scuffle, with chairs falling over, a subdued shriek, more murmurings, and then someone ran from the room. If he was reading the situation correctly from where he stood, it appeared that the person who ran off had caused trouble for one of the women at that table.
Ryker was a fixer by nature, and his first instinct was to go to that far corner and make sure that everyone was okay, especially the woman who showed the most distress and looked in his direction as though he were the answer to her problem. Oakley. Damn, he knew his gut wasn’t leading him wrong. He mentally talked his feet into staying in position at the podium and watched as Oakley appeared to reassure those around her.
In the midst of dealing with the issue, there was little doubt that Oakley Addison sought him out with her eyes. He interpreted her entreating expression as one of embarrassment, some fear, and something else. She was asking for his help. Something settled in him, and he knew there was more to their connection than mere friendship. He just knew it.
His logical side disagreed. Don’t be ridiculous, his brain told his heart. But something about Oakley drew his attention and kept it there. As a fixer by nature, he could see that several people associated with the conference were addressing the problem, and he thought the best thing he could do was to carry on. So he did. But something in his gut told him to at least acknowledge that something was going on, as much for the audience as for Oakley, who glanced up again while speaking to the conference personnel.
“Well, it appears that whatever has gone on in the back corner of the room is being dealt with appropriately, so let’s give them some privacy and go forward.”
Funny that he felt compelled to say those words when he wanted to do anything but ignore the situation. He pushed those thoughts away, reminding himself that it was not his business, and he was not asked to intercede and continued with the speech.
“Today, I’d like to discuss some of the legal challenges faced by our brave men and women in uniform. Whether it be military or a first responder, there are pitfalls when they are faced with professional or personal needs that influence their professional worlds. They are a special group of people who have servant hearts. Issues often include civilian law enforcement and mental health providers, at a minimum. Despite that service and sacrifice, military personnel face unjust barriers to healthcare, legal counsel, and stable life after their service ends. As attorneys, as citizens, we have a duty to advocate for the men and women who have given so much. I’m talking about military members, but we could be discussing any of our community first responders who have had traumatic work-related issues and have stepped away from their service jobs in ways other than retirement.”
As he warmed to his subject, his eyes connected with the audience, exuding confidence and authority. It was a subject that often twisted his gut, but he tried to channel his powerful emotions to increase his passionate pleas.
A rumble of approval rose from the audience. Ryker’s nerves eased, replaced by the heat of his message.
Ryker noticed Oakley listening with great interest, sitting at the same far back table. He wanted to bring her forward, in front of where he was standing, so he could keep an eye on her. Oakley was beautiful, and his thoughts stuttered. He forced himself to look away from her to keep himself on track. Focus, Bennett. He cleared his throat and gripped the sides of the podium, knuckles whitening.
“I’ve dedicated my life and my career to serving those who serve our country.”
“Furthermore,” he continued, “the lack of legal representation available to our troops is a disgrace. They risk their lives for our freedom, yet we often leave them to fend for themselves when they return home. For some, it all works out, but the road to recovery and integration is long and bumpy for others. It’s our duty to ensure that they have the support they need to reintegrate into civilian life or return from a traumatic event.”
He continued to advocate for a different way; for compassion, understanding, and more robust responses that would help not hinder those who could not ease back into life as seamlessly as hoped. The rumble swelled to applause. Ryker stood taller, confidence surging within him.
“Together, we have the power to enact genuine change. Become a country that supports its veterans without compromising those who have kept the home fires burning.”
The room thundered with applause. A fire had been lit within them, and together, they would blaze a trail to a better future for military men and women. His work was only just beginning.
Ryker stood at the podium finishing his presentation on military personnel, the military justice system, and how it could better interface with civilian law enforcement and the mental health community. He hoped to encourage better communication and better working relationships with civilian authorities.
“Thank you all for being here today, ready to effect change.”
As the crowd erupted into applause, Ryker acknowledged their appreciation with a nod and a humble smile. He felt a deep satisfaction knowing he had impacted this attentive audience. As Ryker finished the question-and-answer portion of his talk, he locked eyes with the brunette that he just could not get out of his mind and determined he would check in on her as soon as the opportunity arose. If it took too long, he would produce that opportunity.
Somehow, he finished the last bit while continually seeking her face between each sentence to see how she accepted it. She was enchanting, with deep blue eyes that stood out and grew even more opulent against her royal blue blouse. There was something vulnerable in her expression but also a healthy dose of grit.
He finished and gathered his notes while the room applauded. Ryker looked one last time, and Oakley’s smile dazzled him, nearly blinding him. He needed to reconnect with her, if only to satisfy his concerns about her and to prove she wasn’t a gypsy casting a spell over him.
Seated near the back of the conference room, Oakley watched intently as Ryker spoke fervently about the challenges military personnel faced. As a psychiatrist specializing in PTSD and other mental health issues affecting soldiers, Oakley felt a deep connection to his words and found herself completely captivated by his passion. She knew that wasn’t the only reason she felt a pull toward the handsome professional. He’d been her rescuer, but even more, she felt drawn to him.
Oakley’s striking blue eyes met Ryker’s piercing, stormy gaze for an elongated pause, making her heart race and her breath quicken. She felt a twinge of excitement deep in her core. She knew that flip-flop in her belly signaled her attraction. She recognized the feeling as attraction, something that had been absent for some time. It pleased her that Ryker was the one to awaken this sensation within her.
If it were residual feelings of hero worship, she was in trouble because she could not stop watching him or looking for him. She’d run into him several times over the last few days, but she didn’t think he noticed her. If he did, she couldn’t tell.
Sitting towards the rear of the conference room, Oakley observed Ryker with keen attention as he passionately discussed the obstacles that military personnel encounter in different arenas. What she whole heartily approved of was that he then included first responders in the same category of unmet needs.
She wanted to spend time with this man, have intellectual conversations, and explore her suddenly overly juiced libido. She had never had such a volatile response to a man before, and it scared her as much as it intrigued her. With Ryker, she fired on all cylinders of her being. She tried not to worry that it might be too intense.
The applause signaling the end of Ryker’s presentation echoed through the room, and Oakley knew this was her opportunity. Taking a deep breath, she rose from her seat and made her way toward him, her petite frame weaving through the crowd of people who had clustered around the towering, broad-shouldered attorney.
