Once Upon a Friendship

She was intending to convince Liam to sign an agreement to stay away from his father in exchange for Walter’s dropping of the charges. Hopefully, Walter would respond well to the polite and rational plea. Surely he didn’t really want Liam to have a criminal record.

Reaching for a pair of old sweats—Liam had seen her in her pajamas enough times to make standing on ceremony with him completely unnecessary—Gabrielle changed her mind at the last minute and grabbed a pair of black pants and a white sweater, instead.

The night ahead was not going to be a time among friends. She was going to be working. And as long as she kept her mind on her job, she’d do it well.

There would not be a repeat of the morning’s unprofessional lapse. Nor would she allow herself to think about Liam as anything other than a client.

There was just too much at risk to do otherwise.

* * *

LIAM PURPOSELY WAITED for Gabrielle to arrive before turning on his computer or television set. He’d listened to his voice mail, though, and found that June Fryburg, the editor he’d called, was not only willing to have him do his own version of the Connelly story, one based in truth rather than speculation and innuendo, but she’d already sold it to a major news source.

Her first big co

up. And his, too.

His father was inadvertently giving Liam what he’d always wanted most. Success as a journalist. The only thing he wasn’t sure about was if June had made her call to him before or after he’d appeared on local news in handcuffs.

He told himself that it didn’t matter, that journalists who went to jail trying to get a story were often more sought after for having done so. And he could in good conscience say that he’d been at Connelly Investments that morning with the express purpose of getting this particular story.

He wanted to help his father before public opinion, through the press, crucified him. Even if by some chance the grand jury didn’t indict him, which Liam seriously doubted, his reputation would be ruined. There would be doubt in people’s minds when it came to Walter’s trustworthiness.

In the investment business, a lack of trust was the kiss of death.

Something he had to keep in mind for himself, the small voice inside of him reminded. Financial investment was the business he knew in his sleep. It was his fallback. His security net.

He couldn’t be going around breaking and entering or getting himself arrested anymore. His reputation was his security.

There was a message from Tamara as well. For both of them. She wanted to come to Denver. To see their father. And to see him and Gabrielle again and to meet Marie. She had a week off at spring break and enough money saved to buy a plane ticket.

She failed to say whether or not Missy would approve of the adventure. As much as he wanted to see her again—and he did, he missed her already—he was not going to come between a girl and the mother who was loving and committed to giving her child the best chance at a good life.

And, ironically, the last message was from a Denver police officer, following up on his two threat reports—the letter and the car. The two reports had been joined into one case, assigned to a Billy Wilton. Liam was to contact Billy about any further incidents or if he had any more information on the previously reported crimes. Other than that, there was nothing to report. Officer Wilton left both his office and cell phone numbers.

Liam wondered if Billy Wilton knew about Liam’s arrest.

He was out of the shower, but still with wet hair, in jeans and with a towel around his neck when he heard Gabi’s knock on the door.

Looking forward to a kicked-back evening where he could just be himself, he didn’t bother going for a shirt before he answered. She’d be in the sweats she put on when she was in for the night. They’d be right back on even footing. Friends for life.

Where they belonged.

He, for one, couldn’t wait.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

LIAM HAD THE professionally dressed Gabrielle who’d arrived at his front door sit at his computer. With a hastily donned black T-shirt on with his jeans and shoes on his feet, he leaned over her just enough to see without a glare.

So much for a kicked-back evening. His attorney was tense. To say the least.

They both knew that his arrest had made the news. It was wise to find out how much of an issue the press was making of the situation. He’d done a stupid thing. A couple of them. In hindsight, he wasn’t proud of himself.

Gabrielle was his lawyer, being paid to assess the situation and then advise him how to proceed. It was her job to clean up his mess.

He’d already signed on to the internet, but left his home screen up. His executive desk chair seemed to swallow Gabi as she sat there. Clicking.

The only reason he noticed how slender and...feminine...her fingers looked as she placed them on his keyboard was because he was used to seeing his own thicker hands there.