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On a quick glance, she realized that not only did Nikolas Slater not have a credenza, but there wasn’t a liquor tray anywhere in sight. Instead, he had three matched apothecary’s cabinets along the far wall that he obviously used to keep his files. The old-fashioned touch was at odds with the modern computer and monitor, yet somehow it fit.
“Please,” he gestured toward one of the seats opposite his desk.
She sat down, her perusal of the office and the ready comparisons to Ferdy still crowding her mind. The impulse that had her laughing in the outer office had fully faded, replaced with the same serious worry that had dogged her every single mile since leaving New York.
Was she really going to tell this man her most closely guarded secrets?
“This is what I needed to show you.” Before she could question his intentions, Nikolas had his computer monitor turned around to show her the display.
A website had been minimized on the large screen with a digital note-taking program open. Her father’s face filled the left side of the screen, dominating the top of an article.
But it was the easy-to-read file name in Nikolas’s note-taking program that stopped her in her tracks.
Ace Colton Case. Task: Determine Guilt.
* * *
Nikolas half expected the woman to go running when she saw his screen, her messy braid flopping in her wake. He’d already imagined trying to chase a pregnant woman down the stairs in his building and out into the street, and wondered how big a show they’d put on for the lunch crowd out and about in downtown Mustang Valley.
Which made her next move that much more surprising.
Just like the way she’d teased him about her pregnancy, the intriguing Nova Ellis did the unexpected once again.
She flopped back in her chair, shaking her head. “This whole experience cannot get more surreal.”
“Excuse me?”
“I mean it. From the moment my mother mentioned the name Colton to me, it’s been one ride after another on the crazy train.”
“What crazy train?”
“The crazy that has become my life.” She glanced down at her purse, settled on the guest chair beside her, her gaze focused on something only she could see.
Nikolas watched the play of emotions across her face, fascinated by both her expressiveness as well as how hard she still was to read.
Was she scared? Angry? Curious?
He’d sensed all three in a matter of moments, yet she’d still been able to laugh and make jokes. Had still been able to assess his points on the power of the Colton family in Mustang Valley and reshape her reasons for coming in to see him.
Who was this woman and how had she landed squarely in his life?
“Why don’t we both start over? I can’t really talk to you with any level of depth until you’re a client.”
Her face fell at that. “I’m sorry but I can’t afford you.”
It was what he’d expected—known, really, since she’d walked in—but he pressed on anyway. “I know that. And I’m willing to take on your case pro bono. On a trial basis.”
“Trial basis? How? Or more to the point, why? You don’t know me.”
“And you don’t know me. So we’ll figure it out as we go along. But I do need your agreement to keep our conversation going. And I need to charge you something to make it official. Would a dollar work?”
She glanced down at her purse, seemingly considering his offer. Was there even a dollar in there? Nikolas wondered.
It was only when she lifted her gaze, a rueful smile at her lips, that he sensed another surprise coming. “Can I ask a favor first?”
“Sure.”
“Do you by any chance have any food here? A small package of peanut butter crackers or pretzels?”
