Oh man. Matt’s first instinct was to play dumb. “Mom, she’s just someone working on Tom’s campaign. You know how it is. You’ve seen me in the paper with different women.”
“Yes I know, my darling son, but you’re usually more interested in the camera than your date,” she purred with all motherly privilege. “And besides, I am not the one who is excited.”
The little wave of panic was now spiraling into full mast. “Okay, well, this is a delightful conversation, but I’ve got to go. I’ve got a hearing in an hour and I can’t find the damn file—”
“Oh, you run right along, honey. I’m going to cut out the pictures so that you can look at them later. Three in all, if you’re interested. Bye now!”
Matt frowned at his mom’s little chuckle as she hung up. He sprang out of his chair, strode across his office to the door, and yanked it open. “Harold!” he barked. “Bring me today’s paper!” He pivoted sharply and marched back to his desk.
Harold appeared almost instantly with the folded paper in his hand, which he laid in front of Matt, the Life section conveniently on top. “You and Miss Lear look really marvelous together,” he said admiringly. “Page six.”
“He and who?” Ben asked from the door, wandering in as Matt yanked the paper open to page six.
“Miss Lear.”
“The beauty queen?”
“Do you guys mind?” Matt asked testily. “I’ve got to get ready for a hearing in less than an hour—”
“Hey, I wanna see,” Ben said, waltzing across the room to have a look.
“They’re fabulous pictures,” Harold said. “I take it the Bingo Bash was a success.”
“The what?” Ben exclaimed loudly.
“Long story,” Matt muttered, turning to page six to see what the rest of the world had apparently already seen this morning. Judas H. Priest, there they were, gazing into each other’s eyes. When the hell had that happened?
The second photo was of Tom and company, but once again, just off to the right, Rebecca was smiling suspiciously at Matt, and he was smiling as if . . . he couldn’t even think straight. He couldn’t breathe, especially with Ben hanging over one shoulder and Harold drooling from across the desk. He looked at the last picture, the one that really made him feel sick. Tom in the hallway, standing next to that old woman on that deadly scooter (she’d almost taken him out twice with that thing). And over the top of her steel wool head, you could see Matt and Rebecca, slipping out the back door. She looked a little nervous, but he had a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.
“I thought you didn’t like her,” Ben remarked, peering closely at the last picture.
“I don’t,” Matt responded, perhaps a little too sharply. “At least not like that.”
“Don’t like her?” Harold gasped, horrified. “But what about the art festival?”
“Jesus, it must be love!” Ben cried, banging Matt on the shoulder. “Bingo and an art festival?” He laughed, strolled toward the door in a definite swagger as Harold followed behind in a definite swish, “So what’s the hearing this afternoon?” Ben asked before walking out.
“Uh-oh,” Harold murmured, and went out.
“Discovery for Kelly Kiker.” Matt muttered.
Ben sighed to the ceiling, shook his head. “I thought you were going to give her a referral. In fact, I think you promised. So when is it that we start lining up cases that actually make us a little money?”
Matt shoved the paper into the drawer and stood, returning to the file cabinet to look for the papers he needed. “I’m doing this pro bono—”
“Like I said—we need cases that make money. Look, it’s great you want to help this chick out, but it takes you away from cases that might actually make us a little something.”
“Okay, Townsend. You’ve made your point a million times over, but I really don’t have time for the refrain right now. I need to get to court.”
“Whatever,” Ben muttered, and walked out the door. “But it would be nice if you could remember how we pay the salaries around here and try and chip in with a few profitable cases.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Matt muttered under his breath as he searched for the wayward file, and thought Ben would probably bust a gut if he knew Matt had given Kelly five hundred dollars out of his own pocket to buy some suitable clothes.
He found the file a moment later, grabbed up his briefcase, stuck the file under his arm, and headed for the courthouse. It was a quick two-block walk, and as he came up to the last crosswalk, he saw Debbie Seaforth coming from the opposite direction.
He smiled.
Debbie looked away.
Whoa. The light changed; Matt began striding across the street. Debbie tried to pretend she hadn’t seen him, but Matt stepped directly in front of her in the middle of the crosswalk. Debbie gave off a sigh of irritation; her eyes narrowed as she looked at Matt.
“Deb, what the hell?” he asked, stretching his arms wide.