At 5pm, Denise Walker finished her last e-mail of the working day and took a deep breath. She was a formidable attorney, in touch with both her clients' needs and how to skew events to the media to protect them. More often than not, her clients needed protecting from themselves.
None more so than Mr. Ross.
Even thinking the man's name had her sighing, resigned to assist in the trouble he kept bringing onto himself.
And he used to be such an easy client, too. Hardly anything more than a parking ticket to worry over.
What had happened?
197. The Clarkes. The girl.
It had been over a year since Nolan had roped Denise into his scheme to take Amanda Clarke and act as a bridge between the accused father and the stolen daughter, all while helping to shore up the defense and stay hidden at the same time. What a mess. There had never been a class to prepare her for this while she'd been in law school; she was in uncharted waters and she didn't like it.
Yes, the last year had been messy but somehow they had pulled it off - arranging for the girl to reunite with her father and then, on her exposure, creating an alias to protect her while abroad. Still, most of that was all down to luck, to being in the right place at the right time. Denise did her best to plan ahead for any and all eventualities but Mr. Ross seemed to enjoy testing her.
Denise spun around in her chair and retrieved a glass from the side cabinet to the left of her desk, then poured herself a drink.
In one week the trial would begin. The world would be watching. The girl had already returned to Mr. Ross in the Hamptons.
While the prosecution had plenty of circumstantial evidence and witness testimonies, the defense had promising evidence on its side - but what people couldn't understand was that all the defense evidence in the world wouldn't matter in a case like this. Mr. Clarke was, to date, the only person arrested in connection with 197. He was the face of Americon Initiative.
Politics were at play.
Rumor was that the prosecutor was eying higher rungs on his career ladder. Convicting a terrorist would look great on a resume.
America needed David Clarke to be destroyed.
He was the face of Americon Initiative, the face of 197. It was his hand that planted the bomb, it was his mind that plotted the deaths of over 200 innocent people.
If the man walked, America would riot.
The trial was just a show. David Clarke would never walk free.
Denise took a long draw on her drink and leaned back in her chair, willing the tension to leave her but it remained. Too much on her mind; anxiety over the trial, curiosity over how each side would approach the gathered evidence and witnesses. Dread that either Mr. Ross or the girl or both would say something to the press or do something insane like attempt a prison break instead of staying safe and silent. Denise had never fed them false hope; she had been as frank about the situation as she could.
Still.
The girl was desperate for her father and Mr. Ross prized her above all others. God, he had become so unpredictable where she was concerned.
Another lawyer, a more disloyal lawyer, would have washed her hands of all this. It was still a legal option for her. She could do it. Separate from Mr. Ross, hand over his contract and wish him well in his future endeavors with a new council. Yes. Any other lawyer would have done so, but Denise Walker wasn't any other lawyer - she didn't abandon her clients and give up for the sake of convenience. She was better than that, she was a fighter.
She was also too deep into this now to turn tail and run.
The woman finished her drink and gathered her things, leaving her office.
There would be long days ahead, she only hoped that she would be up to the task of dealing with the fallout.
The return to New York, specifically the Hamptons, was strange and bittersweet.
So much had changed.
Emily sat on one of Nolan's backyard deckchairs and looked out over the shore, reflecting. The last time she had been in the Hamptons, she'd had to admire the view from inside Nolan's house, caged by his dictate after her picture had landed on the front page of a tabloid.
On picking her up at the private airport the day she'd returned, Nolan had informed her that they'd be returning to the Hamptons rather than the city as she'd expected, but to a different house than the one from the previous summer. In comparing the two, she preferred this house; where his first had been grand glass and steel, his new house somehow felt more settled. The clean line furniture and his gadgets were still in place, but the house itself was smaller than the first, the ceilings were lower, the space itself felt warmer, more his true home away from the city than the glass house ever could be.
She took in a deep breath, deeply enjoying the sea air and subtle scent of flowers and grass. That was a big change, as Nolan had never possessed much of a green thumb - but the man had fallen in love with the house and its surrounding greenery on his first walk-through, buying it on the spot at well over the asking price to ensure he won the bid. He wanted the house for himself of course, but he knew Emily would love it too.
"Nolan, I love it!" Had been her first words on stepping inside, so Nolan knew he'd made the right choice. Really, there was never any doubt.
If the girl had shown any disappointment in not returning to his city apartment for the summer - she'd had a wonderful time with him over the holidays and during spring break - then she didn't show it; instead she'd gushed over the house's views of the shore, the flower gardens and trees. The house wasn't too far from David's beach cottage, and only a half mile or so further from town than his glass house had been.
It had been a week since her return and Emily hadn't left the house yet; she had run on the familiar shore, passing by Nolan's old house and the fire pit, she'd swum in the ocean and in the lap pool, she'd helped him stake lights down the walkway to the shore and even climbed the trees.
A touch of cabin fever was taking hold; she was growing restless to reacquaint herself with the spots in town that she had enjoyed with Nolan the previous summer. The Rosehill Boutique, the beach club, and if she asked then Nolan might take her to the Stowaway - the bar was meant to be her first investment property, after all. Maybe this time he'd buy her something stronger than a Sprite, as she and alcohol were no longer such strangers.
Emily stood from her chair and walked to the edge of the yard, then turned around and faced the house, studying it from this new angle. In a way, she felt that Nolan's new house was a reflection of their situation: a new exterior with the same people and the same secrets hiding within.
She didn't mind.
Once her father was free, there would be no need to hide ever again - her father would come home to them and they would all be together. She still held to her fantasy, her anchor amid a sea of anguish. She had done her best to stay afloat, but she wanted to be Amanda again.
Maybe I can even go back to blonde, she thought, tugging at her freshly re-dyed brunette hair. She liked the new color, but it wasn't her and never would be.
Visiting David had become impossible. With the approaching trial, Lockhart had become surrounded with protesters - the risk of another exposure was too great. God only knew what would happen if she was discovered again, Nolan hadn't been in to see David in the last two months thanks to the mounting scrutiny from the public. He and Denise had agreed and together outvoted Emily that tensions were running too high to try their luck by attempting a visit to Lockhart or attending the trial in person; better to wait and watch from home like the rest of the world.
Emily hated it, but she understood.
She could forego visiting David because soon, very soon, this nightmare would be over. She looked over to the patio set; in a mere few weeks she, Nolan and David would be sitting right there together, eating Nolan's promised feast, listening to music and laughing with pure joy as they planned their trip to a beautiful tropical paradise.
Until then, she had a jewelry box full of loving messages from her father to tide her over. It would have to be enough.
"Careful, Ems." Emily turned to see Nolan emerging from the house, still in his lounge pants and robe, barefoot as he cut across the grass toward her. "I need to put up a little safety fence over this spot."
She rolled her eyes at him when he moved to guide her away from the edge of the yard, where one corner dropped off, a steep twenty foot drop to a rocky area of the shore below.
"Come on Nolan, you don't need to child-proof the yard."
"For insurance purposes, yes I do. Anybody takes a tumble and I'm the one who gets sued. No thanks!" He put an arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. "What do you want to do today?"
He lead her inside and poured her a cup of coffee.
Really, Nolan would have been content to share another lazy day in the house with her. He liked being barefoot with messy hair in his pajamas, as did Emily, given she was still in her leggings and one of his NolCorp t-shirts. Still, when he'd found Emily in a tree the day before, it was clue enough that the girl was overdue for a day out.
Emily sipped her coffee and thought it over.
This wasn't like her visits with him in the city where their time was so limited and they'd felt the need to fill every moment with activity - it was always a restaurant or a visit to Lockhart or an event to attend, really they hadn't simply spent time relaxing together since the previous summer. While she would enjoy yet another lazy day spent with the man, there would be plenty more lazy days ahead and even more time spent together once her father was free.
Today she wanted to reacquaint herself with the Hamptons.
"I want to go into town."
"Of course." Nolan nodded. "You want to drive?"
Nolan had been allowing her to drive his cars since the year before - the girl was fully capable now, she simply wasn't street legal yet. Not that he couldn't just doctor up a license for her, but Denise had warned him about forging any further government documents where Emily was concerned.
"Let me take a shower first."
"Sure thing, I need to get dressed too." Nolan spread the opening of his robe, widening the front and exposing his chest. "I can't let the ladies see me like this, they'd all go nuts trying to get at me!"
Emily laughed at him, "Only the ones with great taste, Nolan!"
"Why thank you." He winked at the girl and went off to ready himself for the day.
Emily finished her coffee and rinsed the mug in the sink, then went into her room. Her third bedroom under Nolan's roof and just like the others, this room was fairly bare. She had no care to decorate here; in a few months' time she would be back to living with her father, they'd be settled in a safe place called home far away from trouble.
She took a quick shower and then patted herself dry, looking herself over in the mirror. She hadn't fully blossomed into her womanhood yet, though she was well aware of the changes coming over her. Some of the girls on her team had developed more quickly; it was easy to mistake them for upperclassmen or even for university students in the locker room.
Emily wished her own shape would come along faster; she wanted her body to match her mindset, but wishing hadn't done her any good so far. She cupped her breasts and pushed them together, trying to create cleavage in the mirror, then released her chest. Her mother hadn't been particularly well-endowed, so she didn't expect that she would be once she was finished growing. All she could do was continue to train both body and mind, and wait.
The waiting was the most difficult part, but she was learning patience and the image she held of the woman she would become would be well worth it.
She twisted her hair into a long side braid over her shoulder and applied her makeup, easing up from what she usually wore at school, since Nolan was so vocal in his preference that she go for a more natural look when she was with him. They had locked horns over the issue before and she wasn't in the mood for that same old argument today.
Emily had learned to choose her battles where Nolan was concerned.
"It's even more crowded than it was last year." Nolan grumbled as he offered his arm to the girl. She looped her arm through his and fell into step with him as he lead the way toward the club. Tourists were all around them, snapping pictures, asking for directions, loudly complaining about how expensive everything in the Hamptons was and just generally getting in the way.
"They're probably fans of yours."
"Somehow I doubt that." Nolan said as a group of attractive twenty-somethings passed them, none of whom gave any indication of recognizing him. Yes he was a public figure but he wasn't the flashiest celebrity in the Hamptons. Hell, he wasn't even the biggest celebrity in his neighborhood.
The man didn't have the heart to tell Emily, but earlier in the year he'd found that someone, some sick mind, had organized Clarke Crime Tours - a travel package that invited groups of conspiracy theorists to come out from their chatrooms and over to the Hamptons, where they would have the chance to see the Clarke house before the trial.
Nolan, Catherine, and several others in the community had been instrumental in disbanding the whole operation - he hated to quash a fellow entrepreneur, but even if he hadn't had a personal stake in the situation he would have helped put a stop to it.
So many people had died.
It was obscene to see fat tourists roaming the Hamptons wearing t-shirts with David's mugshot and Never Forget 197 screened across the front.
Only a bit of good had come of that fiasco, in that Nolan and Catherine had grown closer. Community planning meetings had lead to lunches which had lead to drinks which had lead to a few long weekends where they had hardly left the bed. In his years with Marco, Nolan had forgotten how fun being with a woman could be and Catherine had been more than eager to remind him.
Nolan wasn't sure how their arrangement would continue - if it could continue - now that Emily was back. He doubted it. Their nights together might have come to an end now, but he was sure that they could stay friendly. For the summer, or through the trial at least, Emily would be the only lady of his house. The girl might have understood about Marco, but Nolan had no desire to open this part of his life to her. There were some things that a man liked to keep private.
Thankfully, the pair escaped the crowds of tourists and made it into the beach club.
Emily smiled as she took in the familiar surroundings. It had been just over a year since she had been here, and the place hadn't much changed. The handsome bartender was still there and this time when he made eye contact, she didn't look away, she looked right back at him and smiled. Nolan didn't notice.
The hostess guided them to one of the hightop tables and set them up with menus and promised Nolan that his usual drink was already underway. The perks of being a regular.
The man took his seat and cast his eyes about the restaurant floor, idly curious as to who had returned to the Hamptons for the summer. So far, no one had seen hide nor hair of the Graysons. It had been weeks. They weren't in their island hideaway anymore and they hadn't returned to their Hamptons mansion. Nolan was sure they had hired more cybersecurity because he'd been having a bear of a time trying to hack into Grayson Global - everything he'd tried for the past few weeks had lead to a dead end. It was damn frustrating.
All he knew was that Victoria's baby had been delivered a few months ago - happy and healthy, a girl weighing in at 8lbs, 13oz. Charlotte Grayson. He was still waiting on his source to come through with the DNA results; even if the child wasn't David's, there was no reason now to believe that the baby was Conrad's - proof that the man was ruled out would prove to be useful, should he ever need such ammunition against Victoria.
No, he hadn't seen any Graysons yet, but he did see a familiar face.
Their waitress approached and after Emily asked for an iced tea, Nolan requested that a cocktail be brought to a different table, his eyes eagerly watching as it was delivered from the bar.
Catherine accepted the surprise drink and searched until her eyes met his across the restaurant. She mouthed a gracious 'thank you' and winked, but she didn't approach their table. Nolan could see that she was with her daughter as easily as she could see that he was with Emily. Catherine was discreet, but he knew he could expect a saucy text later that night.
Emily saw the exchange and asked him, "Who's that?"
"She's...my favorite neighbor. Gotta love a redhead, Ems." Emily watched as he winked at the woman across the floor, heat in his eyes. She felt a spike of jealousy against the older woman he was flirting with, but took comfort in reminding herself that she was the only woman in Nolan's life. As far as she knew.
Emily took a deep breath and pushed away the strange jealousy she felt; the trial was set to start soon, that's all that mattered.