Zara tugged down her moss-colored sweater and walked into the conference room, where Brock had files and notebooks haphazardly spread out. She gasped. “What in the world have you done?”
The lawyer looked up. “I’ve been trying to put all the data into some sort of order.”
She’d had it in order. “I see.” Pulling back a chair, she dropped down and slid manila files into organized stacks. Why was it that the smarter the man, the more chaos he created? “How far have you gotten on the discovery requests?”
“I’ve gone through all the documents supplied by Jay, and I read over his answers to interrogatories. We need to tweak a couple.” When he worked on weekends, Brock wore a dark blue golf shirt that emphasized his broad chest. “I also went through the affidavits you drafted for us. Good job on those.”
“Thanks.” She smiled. Brock was a stickler for procedure, and a compliment from him meant something.
He leaned forward, his gaze somber. “I know you and Julie Pentley were friends a while back, and I’m sorry you’re on this side of the aisle.”
She nodded. “I’m not sure Jay is such a great guy, you know?”
“He’s a politician.” Brock smiled. “Aren’t they all slightly less than great?”
“Says the lawyer,” she teased. An easy friendship with Brock was one of the best parts of her job.
Brock barked out a laugh. “Very good point.” He shoved a manila file toward her. “Here are the financials.”
She flipped the file folder open to read down a list. “Are we sure he gave us everything?” According to Julie, there was a lot more money than what was neatly laid out there.
“As far as I can tell. Why? Do you know something I don’t?”
Definitely. “No, but it seems like a man like Jay Pentley, with his family and trust funds, would have more income than this.” She pushed the file toward Brock. “I’d double-check with him. If Julie’s attorney hires a private detective or a forensic accountant, then we don’t want to be unprepared.”
Brock spun the file around with one finger. “It sounds like you do know something.”
“No.” She worked for Brock, darn it. The man was a master in trial and certainly didn’t need her help. “I just think Jay has more money than he’s showing. When I worked for the mayor way back when, Jay was always throwing cash around.”
“I’d forgotten you dated,” Brock said slowly, his eyebrows rising. “Was it serious?”
“Not at all.” She tried not to squirm.
Brock grinned. “Good.”
Hmmm. She reached for a ledger showing a breakdown of marital versus separate property. Jay had left a few items off. But she couldn’t tell Brock that. Not right now.
“So, ah, Zara. Are you still seeing Ryker? He seemed pretty intense in your office yesterday.”
Her gaze shot to Brock, and her instincts kicked into gear. Oh, he couldn’t want to ask her out again, could he? “Um, yeah.” That was definitely the safest answer, even if she had no clue where she and Ryker really stood.
“I think you could do better,” Brock murmured.
Zara couldn’t help the small grin. “You’re impossible.”
“I know.” He rolled his neck. “Even you have to admit that we make a perfect team in the office. Who knows how much fun we could have outside these walls.”
Yeah, and if Ryker hadn’t already thrown her world into a tailspin, she’d be lucky to date a guy like Brock. He was the total package, and he didn’t seem to flaunt it. “I’m glad we work together, and I’m happy we’re friends.”
“I’m not giving up.” He reached for a stack of ledgers, his tone cheerful.
“What ever happened to the doctor you were dating?” Zara pulled a legal pad closer to start making some notes about the interrogatories.
“She got too clingy.” Brock tossed the ledgers toward Zara. “Would you sum up the assets for the trial binder? And, um, create a trial binder?”
She rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Brock. I already have one started. It’s the big blue one over on that chair. You know. The ones that says TRIAL BINDER on it?”
“Oh, good.” He reached for the binder and chuckled. “Everything should go a lot smoother after the competency hearing on Monday.”
Zara’s pen stopped mid-stroke. “I know Julie and she’s competent.”
Brock shook his head. “Her shrink, the one she’s seen for three years, will testify otherwise. Julie is unstable, Zara, and she does drugs.” His eyes softened. “I’m sorry.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Zara burst out.
“Sure, she does. She’s been borrowing money from several friends each month, pretending that she needs help with bills.” Brock scratched his head and opened another file.
Zara’s mouth dropped open only to snap shut. That couldn’t be right. She knew Julie much better than Brock did. “Maybe Julie does need help with bills.”