Читать книгу For You I Will - Donna Hill - Страница 8

Chapter 3

“Mr. Weston, your wife is on line three.”

Anthony Weston’s dark brows tightened across his forehead. He didn’t know how many times he would have to tell his secretary, Valerie, that Crystal was the ex-Mrs. Weston. Maybe Val couldn’t or wouldn’t get it right because he was still wrestling with that reality nearly two years after their divorce.

He pressed the flashing light on his phone. “Hey...Crystal. What’s up?”

“How are you?”

Her voice still flowed through his veins like good brandy, warm and fluid, and could sneak up on him and knock him out when he least expected it. “I’m good. You?”

“Fine. Trying to get everything together for Jessie’s trip...and mine. She’s so excited.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“I wish I’d had the chance to see where you’ll be staying, Tony.” The hint of censure in her tone caused his jaw to tighten.

“I wouldn’t take our daughter anywhere that you or I wouldn’t stay. The house is beautiful. The locale is safe and she’ll have a ball.”

Crystal pushed out a breath. “I’ll drop her off in the morning?”

“Sure, or tonight if you want.”

“No. I want us to have one more night together.”

“You make it sound like she’s going away forever. It’s just a couple of weeks. With her father,” he added a bit more harshly than necessary.

“I know that,” she snapped.

Anthony squeezed his eyes shut. It never ceased to amaze him how their conversations could go from zero to sixty in a flash, and that was not always a good thing. “What time is your flight tomorrow?”

“Two.”

“Do you want me to pick up Jess and take you to the air—”

“No,” she said, quickly cutting him off. “It’s not necessary.”

Anthony was silent for a moment. He knew what that meant. Gordon Russell was taking her to the airport and more than likely traveling with her on the Caribbean vacation. It stung, but not as much as it once did. Crystal had stopped mentioning anything about Gordon after Anthony’s last “another man around his daughter” tirade. He knew he’d taken it too far. He’d allowed his ego to run roughshod over his common sense. It took his and Crystal’s amicable though cool relationship to an arctic freeze and it was still in the throes of unthawing.

“Hey, no problem. What time are you dropping Jess off?”

“About eleven.”

“See you then.”

“Bye, Tony,” she said in the way that he remembered.

The phone clicked in his ear. Slowly he returned the receiver to the cradle, leaned back in his chair and absently massaged his chin. Two years. It was still hard for him to swallow the reality that he had failed at something. It wasn’t in his makeup to fail. Whatever he took on—from a “friendly game” of basketball to the courts of justice—he won. Decisively. It’s what he did. It’s who he was. He was driven to achieve excellence. The divorce had rocked him, unmoored his foundation and forced him to question himself. There were moments, like now, that made him feel as if the ground were slowly shifting beneath his feet.

His intercom buzzed and jerked him away from his brooding. “Yes, Valerie?”

“Mr. Blumenthal wants to see you.”

“Thanks.” He shook off the remnants of his dark thoughts and returned his focus to the task at hand, dealing with his boss, the district attorney for New York, the man whose job he would seek come fall.

Anthony took his jacket from the hook by the door, slipped it on and walked down the corridor to Harrison Blumenthal’s office. He nodded to Blumenthal’s secretary, who smiled and waved him in. Anthony knocked lightly on the partially open door and stepped inside.

“Shut the door, will you,” Harrison grumbled in his trademark no-nonsense grit-and-gravel voice.

Harrison removed his half-framed glasses and rested them next to a stack of files on his desk while Anthony unbuttoned his jacket and took a seat opposite him.

“I’ll get right to it. I don’t like the progress or should I say the lack of progress on this Warren mess.”

“His lawyers say he won’t take a deal.”

“Make them take it. We can’t win this case. You know it and I know it.”

“I don’t agree.”

Harrison’s bushy right brow rose to an arch. “I can’t afford any of your cowboy antics in court. I have no intention of tallying up any losses. Especially now.” He gave Anthony a cool green stare.

“I won’t lose. This is the type of case I’m known for winning. You know that as well as I do,” he returned with the same purposeful stare.

Something rumbled deep in Harrison’s chest before the words rolled out, like a train in the distance before pulling into the station. “There’s a first time for everything, and my point is, I cannot afford to let this case be that first time. Our conviction record is solid.”

“Thanks to me,” Anthony interjected.

Harrison pursed his lips. “It needs to stay that way. For my sake as well as yours.”

Inwardly, Anthony smiled. That was about as close to a compliment as he was going to get from Harrison Blumenthal.

“Find a way to make this case go away.” He put his glasses back on, a clear indication that the meeting was over.

Anthony pushed back from his seat and stood. He buttoned his jacket. “I’ll see what I can do...when I get back from vacation.”

“See that you do. When are you leaving?”

“Saturday afternoon. Crystal is dropping Jessie off in the morning.”

Harrison’s rocky countenance softened. “How are things...with you and Crystal?”

Harrison was one of two people who knew how hard he’d been hit by the divorce. The other was his lifelong friend Lincoln Davenport. It was Lincoln who’d convinced him that he needed some downtime to think really hard about where he wanted his life to go, and a great place to do it was Sag Harbor. He could relax, spend time with his daughter, put the job on hold and enjoy the company of his friends. It had taken a lot of convincing, but Anthony had finally given in.

He’d gone to visit a few months earlier, really liked the place, and after having lunch with Melanie Harte—who was equally as eager to find him a new love as she was finding him a place to stay—he found a great house that was on the market, priced to sell, met all of his needs and would definitely give him a sanctuary when he wanted to get out of the city. He’d gone back a couple of times on weekends to get the lay of the land, check on the repairs of the house and even stumbled onto a book signing at the local art gallery during a last-minute trip a week earlier. He was really looking forward to getting out of Manhattan and “setting up house” with his daughter—even if it was only temporary.

“Better,” he finally answered. “At least, as good as it probably will ever be.” His expression darkened.

“Hmm. It gets easier. Take it from a man who’s been through it...twice.” He held up two long fingers.

“Yeah.” The corner of his mouth curved into a half grin. “So you have reminded me.” He headed for the door.

“Try to enjoy your time away. You know, when you get back, this office will be pretty much all on your shoulders as my campaign will be in full gear.”

Anthony nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ve been trained by the best,” he said with a wry smile. “I can handle it.”

“See that you do.”

Anthony tucked in his smile and closed the door quietly behind him. He was lucky to have a man like Harrison in his corner, paving the way. Often the D.A. was a megalomaniac driven solely by ambition, political polls and winning at any cost. Sure, Harrison loved to win just as much as the next man, but it was more than that. He had a true passion for justice and doing the right thing no matter if it was politically incorrect. And he wasn’t always looking over his shoulder to see who was trying to move up the ranks to take his place. If anything, he encouraged his staff to climb the ladder, which Anthony had done and secured the position of chief assistant district attorney through the mentoring of his boss. The world of crime may have hated Harrison Blumenthal but his staff worshipped the ground he walked on. His shoes were big ones to fill, but Anthony knew he was up to the job. After all, hadn’t he sacrificed everything...including his family...to get where he was?