Once Upon a Friendship

But all the effort gained him was a face-to-face conversation with a very nervous housekeeper.

“Your dad doesn’t want you here,” she told Liam, standing between him and the front hallway. She’d opened the door to him. He took that as a good sign.

She was also looking very nervously at the silent dark-haired giant dressed all in black behind him.

“Don’t worry about Elliott. Dad sent him to me,” Liam said, mostly convinced the words were true. “He’s here to protect us.”

“Your father doesn’t want you here, Liam. I’m so sorry. But I can’t let you in. I’ll lose my job...”

And how was a sixty-year-old spinster who’d spent her entire adult life serving one family going to find a life outside of the Connelly mansion?

Which she was going to have to do if Walter was convicted.

“I want to help him, Greta,” he told the not-so-handsome German lady who’d come to live with them before he’d been old enough to remember. “I don’t care about Connelly or being written out of the will. But he’s my father. He needs my help. You know how stubborn he gets...”

“I can’t let you in. I can’t talk to you.” She glanced behind her. Hands clasped in front of him, Tanner shifted. “If you come back, he’s going to take out an order of injunction against you.”

“Is he here?” Liam asked, trying to get a glimpse into the house, to whomever she feared finding out that she was breaking Walter’s mandates. He wasn’t going to be threatened or bullied.

She leaned forward, whispering, “He’s had cameras installed all over in here. Video and audio. Now go.”

“Is he here?” Liam asked beneath his breath.

Greta shook her head and shut the door.

BY TWO IN the afternoon, the next time Gabrielle had a break, Attitude’s video had gone up on Facebook and YouTube. All thanks to him, she was certain.

And one of the less reputable national news sources was showing it on their site, as well.

Sitting at her desk with the door closed, Gabrielle picked up her cell phone to call Liam. It was probably too late. Chances were he’d already seen it.

Stupid of her to give some unknown journalist a chance at the big time by walking right into the nationally breaking story of Walter Connelly’s imminent trip to the grand jury.

She should have taken a page from George, an experienced and successful corporate attorney, and just said Liam had no comment.

She should have called Liam at lunch.

But she’d hoped the little worm’s story wouldn’t be seen by anyone who wasn’t looking for it.

She’d three missed calls. All from Liam.

* * *

HE’D KNOWN THE old man was vindictive. But Liam had never, ever, in a million years expected this. Sitting in a jail cell with Elliott Tanner right beside him, he had to hand it to the old man. At least if he was going to have his son arrested, he’d made sure that his bodyguard would do the time with him.

He was putting Liam in danger. And protecting him at the same time. As if that somehow made it all okay. Made him a better man.

“You should’ve called her office phone,” Tanner said, sounding not quite peevish, but close to it. “She told you that she turns the ringer off on her cell when she’s with clients or in court.”

Yes, Gabrielle had said that. “She’s with people who need her more than we do,” he said. “People who can’t afford to hire another attorney.”

Which was why he’d told Tanner he’d fire him if he used his own phone call to try to reach Gabrielle on her office line.

Besides, it seemed he had

more of his old man in him than he’d thought. Let Walter stew when he didn’t hear that his son was out of jail. It wouldn’t hurt for him to know that his son was sitting in a jail cell. Like Buckus had so long ago.

For him?