and
purses. “Two dozen means I'm sorry for something.”
“Have you been reading Glamour again?”
Juliana asked with amusement, which faded when she thought of the other thing
she needed to tell her friend. “Hey, so, you won't believe who I met on the
plane.”
“Who?” Carol filled two mugs with
coffee. Her short red hair was stylishly teased into spikes that would have
looked ridiculous on anyone else. On her the style was avant-garde.
“The Benedetti prosecutor.”
Carol paled. The loss of her young
cousin was still a raw wound. “Michael Maguire?” Juliana nodded.
“I've met him a few times at my aunt and
uncle's house. He's very good about keeping them informed.”
Juliana wasn't surprised to hear that.
She took the cup of coffee from Carol and squeezed her arm. “He says they're
going to get them, Car. He has no doubt.”
Carol nodded and dabbed at her eyes
before tears could ruin her makeup.
“Juliana, your nine fifteen is here,”
the receptionist announced through the intercom.
“Are you okay?” Juliana asked Carol.
“Yeah. I'll just be glad when the
trial's over. We all will.”
“I'm sure.”
“We'd better get to work, but I still
want to know why Jeremy's in the doghouse.”
“You're imagining things,” Juliana said,
and they walked out to greet their clients.
CHAPTER 12
ON WEDNESDAY, MICHAEL PICKED JULIANA UP
AT THE salon just after six.
Once she was in the car, she kicked off
her shoes and groaned. “God, my feet are killing me.”
“I don't know how you stand up for nine
straight hours.”
“I'm used to it, but sometimes my feet
let me down,” she said, rubbing one of them.
“What's in the bag?”
“Shampoo samples for Rachelle.”
“She'll love that.”
“I brought my scissors, too. I thought
she might like a trim.”
“Thanks, Jule.”
Startled, she looked over at him. “What?”
“That's what Jeremy calls me,” she said
softly.
Michael cringed. “I'm sorry.”
“No, don't be. I don't mind. It's just
that no one else calls me that.”
“How are you holding up? What is it? Day
three?”
She nodded. “Three down, eighty-seven to
go, but who's counting?”
“Not you of course.”
“Can I ask your opinion on something?”
“Shoot.”
“If a guy sends a girl two dozen roses,
what's he saying?”
“What color?”
“Red.”
“That he screwed up. Definitely.”
Juliana laughed. “Am I the only one who's never heard that before?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Jeremy sent them to me yesterday.”
“So people are wondering what he did?”
“Yes!”
“It was a nice thing for him to do,”
Michael conceded. “He didn't have to.”
“I just wonder what else he's doing,”
Juliana said, biting on a thumbnail.
Michael kept an eye on the rearview
mirror as they sat in heavy traffic in the southbound lane of the
Baltimore-Washington Parkway. “Try not to think about it.”
“It's all I think about. I just wonder, you know, is he doing it with
someone else right now? Right at this very moment?”
“You're going to drive yourself crazy
with that.”
She sighed and rested her head back. “I
know.” Glancing over at him, she noticed how handsome he was in a dark
pinstriped suit. They hadn't even known each other a week ago, yet there seemed
to be nothing she couldn't talk to him about. “Have you heard any more from
Paige?”
“She's been oddly, strangely quiet. I'm
not com-plaining, but I'm wondering when the other shoe's going to drop.”
“Maybe she's given up.”
“I doubt it. I just hope she leaves me
alone during the trial.”
After more than an hour of crawling
through rush hour traffic, Michael drove past the hotel to make sure he wasn't
being followed. It was almost seven thirty when they finally pulled up to the
J.W. Marriott.
Rachelle was delighted to see them and
thrilled with Juliana's gifts as well as her plans for a haircut.
“Don't let me keep you ladies,” Michael
said. “I'll order us some dinner. Any
purses. “Two dozen means I'm sorry for something.”
“Have you been reading Glamour again?”
Juliana asked with amusement, which faded when she thought of the other thing
she needed to tell her friend. “Hey, so, you won't believe who I met on the
plane.”
“Who?” Carol filled two mugs with
coffee. Her short red hair was stylishly teased into spikes that would have
looked ridiculous on anyone else. On her the style was avant-garde.
“The Benedetti prosecutor.”
Carol paled. The loss of her young
cousin was still a raw wound. “Michael Maguire?” Juliana nodded.
“I've met him a few times at my aunt and
uncle's house. He's very good about keeping them informed.”
Juliana wasn't surprised to hear that.
She took the cup of coffee from Carol and squeezed her arm. “He says they're
going to get them, Car. He has no doubt.”
Carol nodded and dabbed at her eyes
before tears could ruin her makeup.
“Juliana, your nine fifteen is here,”
the receptionist announced through the intercom.
“Are you okay?” Juliana asked Carol.
“Yeah. I'll just be glad when the
trial's over. We all will.”
“I'm sure.”
“We'd better get to work, but I still
want to know why Jeremy's in the doghouse.”
“You're imagining things,” Juliana said,
and they walked out to greet their clients.
CHAPTER 12
ON WEDNESDAY, MICHAEL PICKED JULIANA UP
AT THE salon just after six.
Once she was in the car, she kicked off
her shoes and groaned. “God, my feet are killing me.”
“I don't know how you stand up for nine
straight hours.”
“I'm used to it, but sometimes my feet
let me down,” she said, rubbing one of them.
“What's in the bag?”
“Shampoo samples for Rachelle.”
“She'll love that.”
“I brought my scissors, too. I thought
she might like a trim.”
“Thanks, Jule.”
Startled, she looked over at him. “What?”
“That's what Jeremy calls me,” she said
softly.
Michael cringed. “I'm sorry.”
“No, don't be. I don't mind. It's just
that no one else calls me that.”
“How are you holding up? What is it? Day
three?”
She nodded. “Three down, eighty-seven to
go, but who's counting?”
“Not you of course.”
“Can I ask your opinion on something?”
“Shoot.”
“If a guy sends a girl two dozen roses,
what's he saying?”
“What color?”
“Red.”
“That he screwed up. Definitely.”
Juliana laughed. “Am I the only one who's never heard that before?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Jeremy sent them to me yesterday.”
“So people are wondering what he did?”
“Yes!”
“It was a nice thing for him to do,”
Michael conceded. “He didn't have to.”
“I just wonder what else he's doing,”
Juliana said, biting on a thumbnail.
Michael kept an eye on the rearview
mirror as they sat in heavy traffic in the southbound lane of the
Baltimore-Washington Parkway. “Try not to think about it.”
“It's all I think about. I just wonder, you know, is he doing it with
someone else right now? Right at this very moment?”
“You're going to drive yourself crazy
with that.”
She sighed and rested her head back. “I
know.” Glancing over at him, she noticed how handsome he was in a dark
pinstriped suit. They hadn't even known each other a week ago, yet there seemed
to be nothing she couldn't talk to him about. “Have you heard any more from
Paige?”
“She's been oddly, strangely quiet. I'm
not com-plaining, but I'm wondering when the other shoe's going to drop.”
“Maybe she's given up.”
“I doubt it. I just hope she leaves me
alone during the trial.”
After more than an hour of crawling
through rush hour traffic, Michael drove past the hotel to make sure he wasn't
being followed. It was almost seven thirty when they finally pulled up to the
J.W. Marriott.
Rachelle was delighted to see them and
thrilled with Juliana's gifts as well as her plans for a haircut.
“Don't let me keep you ladies,” Michael
said. “I'll order us some dinner. Any
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