Counting the Kisses (Counting the Billions 3)

“Right,” she said.

We headed into the courtroom not long thereafter. Gerrard’s lawyer basically annihilated my case, reminding the jury again and again that it wasn’t just about my beating up my former employee, but I had also fired him for “uncertain reasons,” hinting at what those reasons might have been, in light of who I’d been at the bar with that night. They talked about how long Gerrard had been at McGregor Enterprises, and all the long hours that he’d “had” to pull with me.

I was fuming. Half of what they said was only partially true, and the other half, well. The way that they were embellishing things was clearly biasing the jury.

When I took the stand, I was determined to clear things up, to tell the jury the whole truth of the matter. But with the questions I was asked, especially during cross-examination, it only became more and more apparent to me that the jury was clearly on Gerrard’s side. I could see them nodding away, scribbling notes, frowning with their arms crossed over their chests as I tried to defend my actions.

I wanted to tell them all about how Gerrard had been selling information about me for a couple years, about how he was in violation of his contract, about how he clearly had some sort of vendetta against me. But after talking to Jude about it, I knew that I couldn’t bring all of that up. If I wanted to countersue Gerrard, then I needed to do that the legal way. I couldn’t just introduce that information into this trial.

And on top of that, there was still that lack of evidence. It would just be hearsay if I started going off about it in the middle of the trial, and I was worried how Gerrard’s lawyer might try to spin that. It wasn’t like we could introduce members of the press as witnesses, even if I could get one or two of them to agree to testify against Gerrard.

There was no way for the jury to really understand the reasons behind my punching Gerrard.

No, it was very clear: I had lost the case. I just had to wonder what the sentencing would be.

Jude didn’t think the judge was going to be too harsh. It was my first offense, after all, and I did a lot of charity work thanks to my business. The maximum sentence for assault in Chicago was a year in jail and/or fines of up to $2500, but Jude was pretty sure I wouldn’t have to serve any jail time. Especially not if I agreed to go to anger management classes for a month or so in light of the trial. I hated that that would be another waste of my time, another thing drawing me away from work and Abby, but then again, so would time in jail.

But I was starting to get a little worried, based on the way that the jury was looking at me. It wasn’t about the money. Damn, I would pay him ten times as much as the maximum fine, plus lawyer fees and whatever the fuck else. If he just hadn’t had to bring this to court??. It was too late for that now, though.

At the end of the day, after a quick recess, the judge was back with the verdict: a fine of $2500, plus all of Gerrard’s legal fees. No jail time, but anger management classes and some community service. It was a pretty light sentencing, all things told.

But it still stuck in my craw. Especially as I had to walk out of there, with flashbulbs going off left, right, and center, the press peppering me with questions about the trial, about my new advisor, about whether Abby really stood beside me through all of this.

Worse was the text from Austin about the morning’s gossip columns. Apparently, they’d caught Abby on her way into work that morning and she’d grimaced her way through a few questions before security managed to get her into the building safely. My fingers clenched into fists, and I wished I could go back to that night at the bar and punch Gerrard all over again, just for doing this.

I should have been there for Abby. I should have walked into that building with her, kept her safe from the press. None of this should ever have happened. We should have been able to stick to our nice morning routine we’d established, walking hand and hand into work and coming home together at the end of every day.

No, the money didn’t matter. I’d pay Gerrard whatever it took. I was just pissed because that asshole had won. But at least it was all over now, quickly, and I didn’t need to waste any more time on him. Hopefully, this was the last that I would ever see of him.

I got in my car and headed home, eager to see Abby and find out how her day was.

Chapter 10

Abby

IF I THOUGHT I WAS nervous going into work on Thursday morning, it was nothing

compared to how I felt on Friday evening, waiting for Daniel to come home. The whole day had been a shitshow for me, but I had also seen online that he lost against Gerrard. Amazing, honestly, that the stories were already up when the trial had pretty much just concluded. But I was grateful to them so that I would know in advance of the mood that Daniel would be in when he got home.

I could tell from his expression in the photos alongside the news stories that he was pissed with the way the trial had turned out. What I wanted was to make him forget about all of that, to have something like a repeat of the previous night: cook a good meal for the two of us, go upstairs with him afterward, fall into bed together. This morning, waking up had been such a pleasure. Daniel had still been there in bed next to me, his hands warm against my skin as he held me close.

It had been the perfect morning, really. Until I had gotten to the office.

I sighed and ran a hand back through my hair. After my first day at the office hadn’t been so bad, I honestly had let my guard down today. And that was stupid of me. I knew that. Now, I was waiting for Daniel to come home, and all I could think about was the bad news I had to tell him on top of everything else he had already been through that day.

I had practically paced a hole in the floor by the time Daniel got home. He paused in the doorway of the living room, frowning at me. I saw a flicker of concern in his eyes, despite the tight pinch of anger in his expression. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I made a mistake at work today,” I admitted. “Just like I knew I would.” I couldn’t help how miserable I sounded about it. I still felt stupid just thinking about it.

Daniel’s anger flashed into real fury on his face for a moment, and I almost flinched back. I probably would have if we hadn’t had half the room between us still. I knew, instinctively, that Daniel would never hurt me. But in that moment, he sure seemed pissed.

“I saw the articles,” he said. “You got cornered on your way into the building.” He shook his head sharply. “I should have been there. Or I should have found someone to be there for you. Hired a private security guard or something. I never should have put you in that situation. But seriously, don’t worry about it. It was nice to read that you still profess to support me, even though, what was it that they said? I’ve shown time and again that I’m ‘only capable of acting on my impulses and not planning anything long-term for the future’?”

The bitterness in his voice threw me for a moment. I had speculated before that the news articles about him must bother Daniel more than he let on, but I had never heard him talk about them like this before. I took a hesitant step toward him, forgetting for the moment that I had more bad news to deliver, because that press junket hadn’t been what I wanted to talk about at all. In fact, I had nearly forgotten about that incident in light of everything else that had happened that day.

Daniel’s face softened, and he gave me a tight smile. “Sorry,” he said in a quiet voice. “What I’m trying to say is that I’ll try not to let anything like that happen ever again.” His face twisted again, this time with unhappiness more than anger. “The good news is that the trial’s over. Gerrard won. I’m not happy about the outcome, but at least I don’t have to do any jail time.” He shook his head. “I just still can’t believe he won. But the point is, I’ll be back to work with you on Monday morning, so you won’t have to face the press alone again.”

“I appreciate that,” I said slowly. But I had to wonder whether he was really going to let me come back to work as usual on Monday when he heard about the other part of the day. “But I actually made another mistake.” I took a deep breath, barely able to meet Daniel’s eyes. “You know I had that meeting this afternoon, with Duncan Flannigan?”