A Stallion Dream
Deborah Fletcher Mello
Has this Stallion met his match… in and out of the courtroom?Collin Stallion plans to give back to the community by volunteering to exonerate someone wrongfully convicted of crime. His partner in the high-profile case—powerhouse attorney London Jacobs—isn’t impressed by the seductive bachelor. Until passion ignites. But with an adversary threatening Collin’s family legacy and London’s ex-fiancé sworn to win her back, will they fulfill their dream of love?
Has this Stallion met his match...
In and out of the courtroom?
Collin Stallion plans to give back to the community by volunteering to exonerate someone wrongfully convicted of crime. His partner in the high-profile case—powerhouse attorney London Jacobs—isn’t impressed by the seductive bachelor. Until passion ignites. But with an adversary threatening Collin’s family legacy and London’s ex-fiancé sworn to win her back, will they fulfill their dream of love?
Writing since forever, DEBORAH FLETCHER MELLO can’t imagine herself doing anything else. Her first novel, Take Me to Heart, earned her a 2004 Romance Slam Jam nomination for Best New Author. In 2008, Deborah won the RT Reviewers’ Choice award for Best Series Romance for her ninth novel, Tame a Wild Stallion. Deborah received a BRAB 2015 Reading Warrior Award for Best Series for her Stallion family series. Deborah was also named the 2016 Romance Slam Jam Author of the Year. She has also received accolades from several publications, including Publishers Weekly, Library Journal and RT Book Reviews. With each new book, Deborah continues to create unique story lines and memorable characters. Born and raised in Connecticut, Deborah now considers home to be wherever the moment moves her.
Also By Deborah Fletcher Mello (#ulink_b4853cc0-4bc4-53fb-bead-57a30b032523)
Truly Yours
Hearts Afire
Twelve Days of Pleasure
My Stallion Heart
Stallion Magic
Tuscan Heat
A Stallion’s Touch
A Pleasing Temptation
Sweet Stallion
To Tempt a Stallion
A Stallion Dream
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
A Stallion Dream
Deborah Fletcher Mello
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08601-1
A STALLION DREAM
© 2018 Deborah Fletcher Mello
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
A moment passed and neither made any effort to move, still gazing at each other, memorizing each fine line that detailed their expressions.
Collin’s eyes flickered closed and then open. “I swear,” he repeated. “I’m going.”
She laughed, acutely aware of the urgent matter pressing tightly against the front of his slacks for attention. She shifted her body forward until she was pressed firmly against him. His arm tightened around her waist, his fingers gripping the back of her dress.
“You’re not playing fair,” he said. “You know what you’re doing to me, right?” He pushed his pelvis forward, the gesture teasing.
“That feels like a personal problem to me.”
“Oh, it’s very personal. It’s about as personal as you can get.”
“I imagine that’s why you haven’t moved yet?”
“That, and you need to move first. Unless you want me to roll over you?”
London giggled softly. She pushed her body even closer against his.
“London,” he started, “maybe we should...”
“Maybe we should just stop talking,” she said. She trailed her fingertips along the profile of his face. “In fact, I can think of a few other things we could be doing,” she concluded, and then she kissed him, capturing his luscious lips with her own.
Dear Reader (#u982d8f8e-7b54-5b46-aa84-790bf12d6c98),
When a man has dreams that revolve around a woman he loves, he knows everything is possible and there is nothing that’s insurmountable. Baby boy Collin Stallion is all grown up, and his days of stealing cars are long behind him. He’s standing on the right side of the law, and the only thing he’s stealing now is a woman’s heart. London Jacobs talks a great game, and the only rules she plays by are the ones she sets. But there is something about Collin that has her breaking those rules like there’s no tomorrow. He’s the game changer that has her fantasizing about her own big dreams!
This Stallion son hasn’t fallen far from the family tree and I absolutely adore him. Collin makes my heart sing, and I hope you’ll enjoy his journey toward love as much as I enjoyed writing it. Together, Collin and London are sheer joy!
Thank you so much for your support. This is my last Kimani title, and my success with the Stallion and Boudreaux families would not have been possible without all of you. I am humbled by all the love you continue to show me, my characters and our stories. I can’t begin to express how grateful I am.
Until the next series and the next family and definitely the next story, please take care, and may God’s blessings be with you always.
With much love,
Deborah Fletcher Mello
www.DeborahMello.Blogspot.com (http://www.DeborahMello.blogspot.com)
To Nanette Kelley! You have renewed my faith! I can play in the sandbox again, and I am grateful that you are there to share in the joy with me! I love you to pieces!
Contents
Cover (#u7df3f104-6470-5f16-9549-f9c2b876897a)
Back Cover Text (#ufc978ba9-2a8c-5edb-96a6-884fcd026fc6)
About the Author (#ub69406a2-2589-5223-9c51-9e96ca206bb7)
Booklist (#ulink_91cd91d3-db5d-547f-8327-9541c90e03a4)
Title Page (#u69fa9f67-240e-5974-a367-e3466a7b68a3)
Copyright (#uc9d59072-bf4b-594b-8036-4a2d1c493c8c)
Introduction (#u693e473a-00ed-54a7-9049-d454f13546e1)
Dear Reader (#u3577b279-c604-5565-93e3-86d0921cbd0c)
Dedication (#uac94d58f-51cc-5f83-b862-27cd84b75488)
Chapter 1 (#ua836b45a-7634-54cd-a156-84bd6a0d6f5e)
Chapter 2 (#u66b3e0f3-7456-558e-9528-e4e24d953025)
Chapter 3 (#u8d2b2eb6-bc73-5600-91c6-ddb7dba0d4a6)
Chapter 4 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1 (#u982d8f8e-7b54-5b46-aa84-790bf12d6c98)
“Collin! Collin! Hey, Collin!”
Collin Stallion winced as his little brother—Matthew Jacoby Stallion Junior, affectionately known as Jake—screamed for his attention. His younger sibling was somewhere on the other side of the family home, his high-pitched squeal sounding like fingernails grating against a chalkboard. Collin had only been back for a few short hours and the ten-year old had been screaming his name every few minutes like clockwork. He’d screamed for Collin to come see his new Black Panther toys. He’d screamed for Collin to come play video games on his Xbox system. He’d screamed for Collin every time his big brother managed to get out of his sight. Jake screaming his name had begun to wear on his big brother’s nerves.
Their mother moved into the room, swiping her hands on a dish towel. Katrina Stallion laughed warmly, “He missed you, Collin. Cut him some slack.”
“I know, Mom, but I’m going to be here for a minute. Do we really have to catch up on everything in one day?”
Collin’s mother laughed again, “Your little brother is ecstatic to have you home. He idolizes you. So, please, don’t you give him a hard time. By tomorrow he’ll be back to his regular routine and isn’t going to care about you being around until you get ready to leave again.”
Before Collin could respond, Jake came bounding into the room, still yelling out his brother’s name. “Collin!”
Collin took a deep breath and held it for a brief second before he answered. “Yes, Jake? What’s up, buddy?” He dropped the book he’d been reading to his lap.
“There’s a man at the door for you.”
“For me?”
Jake nodded. “He says it’s important. He has a delivery for you.”
Collin shot his mother a look, puzzlement shifting between them. Katrina shrugged her narrow shoulders, having no answers about who was seeking him out or what they wanted. Collin slid his book onto the coffee table and stood up.
Jake grabbed his hand and tugged. “Come on,” he chided, a silly grin widening across his face. The youngster pulled his brother through the family home to the foyer and the front door.
A well-dressed man wearing tan linen slacks and a white dress shirt smiled in greeting. “Good afternoon, sir. Are you Collin Stallion?”
“Yes, I am. How may I help you?”
“I just need to confirm your identification and then get your signature, Mr. Stallion,” the man said as he extended a metal clipboard in Collin’s direction.
Collin scanned the documents attached, noting a delivery receipt that required his signature to acknowledge his acceptance. “I’m sorry, but what is this for?” he asked.
The man took a step back and gestured over his shoulder. Sitting in the driveway of the Sunnybrook Lane property, directly in front of the four-car garage, was a black-on-black Mercedes C-300 sedan with a huge red bow adorning the hood. The brand-new vehicle was gleaming under the midday sun, looking like it had been spit-polished with multiple coats of car wax. The windows were tinted, and new sports rims adorned the frame.
“There’s a card,” the man said, gesturing to the paperwork in Collin’s hand. “But I do need your signature first, sir!”
Still puzzled, Collin read through the fine print quickly, then scribbled his moniker across the dotted line. He handed the clipboard back. The deliveryman snatched a duplicate copy from the bottom of the document and passed it and an envelope to Collin. He reached into his pocket for a set of keys and passed them to him, as well. “Congratulations,” he said as he did an about-face and stepped down off the porch.
Collin stepped out of the house after the man. He watched as the stranger slid into the passenger seat of the Mercedes dealership’s service van, the vehicle eventually pulling out of the driveway and disappearing into midday traffic.
“It’s so cool!” Jake exclaimed as he bounded down the steps and peered into the driver’s-side window. “Who gave you a car?”
“I want to know who it’s from, too! Are you going to open your card?” Katrina asked.
Collin turned to find his mother, and his father, standing behind him. Still stunned by the delivery, he stood like a deer in headlights, uncertain and slightly lost.
Matthew Stallion shot his wife a look. “Is he okay?”
She laughed, “I’m not sure.”
Collin shook his head. His eyes were blinking rapidly. “I’m just... It’s... W-well...” he stammered and then he noticed his hand was shaking.
Matthew laughed, “I think our son needs some help.”
Katrina reached for the envelope and pulled it from Collin’s palm. She took the note card from inside and gave her son a questioning glance, and he nodded his approval for her to read it aloud.
His mother read it to herself first, drawing her hand to her heart as tears suddenly misted her eyes. She exchanged a look with her husband, who rested a gentle hand against the small of her back. She nodded her head slightly and then began to read.
“‘Collin, you were fifteen when I promised you that if you did what was asked of you and followed the rules, you, too, could have your own Mercedes. You’ve earned this. Your mother and I could not be prouder. We love you very much! Congratulations, son! Dad. PS Try not to get it stolen!’”
“Thank you!” Collin exclaimed, his excitement spilling past his eyes. He moved into his father’s arms, the two men embracing warmly.
Matthew grinned. “I’m proud of you, son,” he said as he slapped Collin across the back. “Now, go check out your car,” he said. “Maybe take your little brother for a ride!”
Collin swiped a hand over his eyes as he leaned to kiss his mother’s cheek. “I love you,” he said and then took the porch steps two at a time, eager to explore his new vehicle.
* * *
Collin listened with half an ear as Jake rambled on about Star Wars, the newest Avengers movie and some little girl named Melissa, who kept giving him cookies at lunchtime. The two had been riding around for hours, finally stopping at In-N-Out Burger when Jake complained about being hungry. He was finishing off the last of his double-double burger and fries as he filled his brother in on everything that was important to him in his small world.
Collin had forgotten what it was like to be his brother’s age—not having a care in the world and still feeling like the weight of everything rested on your shoulders. He had been a sixteen-year-old with his own problems when Jake had been born. His saving grace had been their father.
Collin had been fifteen years old when he first met Matthew Stallion in family court. He’d been facing criminal charges for stealing Matthew’s car. He hadn’t been thinking when he’d swiped the luxury Mercedes for a joyride. After crashing it on the interstate he’d been given probation and an opportunity to change his circumstances around. Matthew had become his mentor, and then his mother’s husband. For the first time in his life, Collin had a father who was there to greet him each morning and wish him good-night every evening. Matthew had stepped up to be his parent, taking the place of his biological father, who had died in military service when Collin had been a baby. On his eighteenth birthday, Matthew had asked to legally adopt him, wanting to give Collin his name. That moment had been the happiest in his young life and the framed photo of them back in family court was one he cherished.
Collin had fond memories of their father listening intently as he whined about problems that weren’t problems, and he wanted his baby brother to know the same joy. Even though he knew there were times his dad had only been listening with half an ear, his thoughts also on business and issues that didn’t concern his sons, Matthew had never let him see that he wasn’t the most important thing in that moment.
Jake beamed up at him. “I hope Dad buys me a car when I graduate from law school.”
“Just do what you’re told, follow the rules, and I’m sure you’ll get one, too, someday.”
“I want a BMW, though. Or maybe a Tesla.”
Collin laughed, “You have expensive taste.”
“Says the guy who just got a free Mercedes!” Jake grinned, his wide smile like a beacon in the center of his small face. He took a sip of his soda, sucking the beverage loudly through his straw.
“We need to get back,” Collin said as he reached for a paper napkin to wipe his hands. “Mom’s going to be mad that we ate when she was planning to cook dinner.”
“I’ll be hungry again by the time we get back. It won’t go to waste.”
Collin laughed. Jake continued to talk, barely stopping to catch his breath. He had missed Collin and it showed in the young boy’s exuberance. Collin let his brother ramble, feigning interest in stories about superheroes and girls who smelled like bubble gum. An hour later, when he pulled his new car back into the driveway of their home, Jake was past ready to go back to his video games and give his big brother some very welcome space.
* * *
“That boy is out like a light,” Matthew said as he returned to the dining room table. “What did you do to him?” he asked, his eyes locking on Collin.
Collin shrugged. “I didn’t do anything.”
“He didn’t sleep last night. He was so excited, and he was up at the crack of dawn. He needs to rest. And you, Mr. Stallion, need to get your foot trunk out of my SUV and take it to your room so you can unpack,” Katrina admonished.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She leaned to kiss the top of her son’s head. “So, we redid the guest suite. Your father and I thought you might like a little more privacy until you figure out your plans. You’ll have your own entrance with your own key. The fridge and pantry are fully stocked, so if you want to make your own meals you can, but you are always welcome to eat with us.”
“I still grill on Fridays and Saturdays,” Matthew said, “so you’re guaranteed a good meal at least two days out of the week.” He winked at Collin.
“I know you are not talking badly about my cooking,” Katrina said as she moved to her husband’s side. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and leaned to kiss his lips.
“Not at all. I was just reminding our son that we eat steaks on Friday.”
“And Saturday,” Collin said with a wide grin across his face. He held up two fingers. “Two! Two days of good food!”
“You two think you’re funny!” Katrina said, giggling softly. “I’m done with the both of you.”
“Family breakfast is the same time tomorrow?” Collin asked.
His mother nodded. “Food will be on the table at nine o’clock sharp. And we’re all going to church at eleven. We have much to be thankful for and I’m thinking you could use a little prayer to kick off your week.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“We also need to talk about you getting a haircut,” Katrina said. She pulled her fingers through the length of his dreadlocks. “Something a little more befitting of the courtroom.” Her eyes were wide as she looked from her son to her husband, and back.
“I’m not cutting my hair, Mom,” Collin said, his tone firm.
Katrina crossed her arms over her chest. “Matthew, please talk to your son!”
“So, now he’s my son because he doesn’t want to cut his hair?”
“Support me here, please!”
Matthew shook his head. “Darling, I love you. But we are not going to win this argument. You’ve been trying since he graduated high school and decided to lock his hair. It’s time to let it go,” he chuckled softly.
“Uncle Mark is one of the state’s top attorneys and no one ever says anything about his dreadlocks.”
“Oh, they say things,” Katrina muttered under her breath. She tossed her husband a look.
Matthew laughed heartily, “That’s okay, baby. I know the ladies love my brother’s rugged good looks and I’ve heard most of your friends say how they would love to run their hands through that full head of hair he has.”
Katrina tossed the man another dry look. “You really are no help, Matthew Stallion.”
Collin grinned. “I’ll tell you what, Mom. I’ll give it some consideration, but I can’t promise you anything. The girls like to slide their fingers through my hair, too!”
Matthew and Collin both laughed heartily as Katrina threw her hands up in frustration. The two men watched as she made her exit, stopping to give them both one last kiss before retiring for the night.
Matthew stood and moved to the sideboard. He filled two glasses with scotch and passed one to Collin as he sat down with the other.
“You’ve impressed me, son. You’ve worked hard these past few years and I’m very proud of you. Graduating top of your class at Harvard, then finishing law school early and passing the state bar in Massachusetts and here in Texas on your first attempts. Those are quite the accomplishments.”
A look crossed over Collin’s face, giving Matthew pause. His gaze narrowed ever so slightly as he stared at his eldest child. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Sir?”
“What’s bothering you, son? You haven’t been yourself since you arrived. You’ve been quiet and withdrawn. So, why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?”
Collin took a deep breath before answering. “After you finished law school, were you scared at all about what came next?”
Matthew took a slow sip of his cocktail before he responded. “I was. I wasn’t sure I’d made the right decision. It took a while before I got my bearings and realized corporate law was what I really wanted to do.”
“I’m not sure it’s what I want, Dad. But I don’t want to disappoint you.”
Matthew shook his head. “You wouldn’t disappoint me, son. You’re an adult now. The choices you make for your life must be about what you want and what you need. You’ve done everything your mother and I have ever asked of you and in most cases, you excelled beyond our expectations. It’s now your time and you need to make the most of it.”
Collin pondered the comment for a moment. Being the son of district court judge Katrina Boudreaux Stallion, and then adopted by her husband, mega Attorney Matthew Stallion, he had big shoes to fill and an extraordinary family legacy to uphold. He didn’t have the words to express that pursuing his own legal career came with some self-confidence issues he hadn’t anticipated. “Mom’s really excited about me working for Stallion Enterprises. But I’ll be honest, Dad. I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”
“Your mom wants you to be happy, no matter what you choose to do. So, what is it you’re thinking you want to do?”
“That’s my problem. I’m not sure. I really don’t have a clue.” Collin’s gaze was downcast as he drummed his fingers against the crystal glass resting on the table before him.
His father nodded. “May I make a suggestion?”
“Please. I can use all the advice I can get.”
Matthew smiled. “There’s a community organization called the Pro Bono Partnership of Dallas. They provide legal services to the underserved and the disadvantaged. Only a select few are added to their payroll, but they’re always looking for good attorneys willing to donate their time to help. I think you should give it a try.”
“It wouldn’t be a salaried position, though?”
“Probably not, but it’s a great way to spend your time until you figure out what you want to be doing. And you know how much we believe in being of service to others.”
“What about my bills?”
“What bills?” Matthew eyed him with a raised brow.
“I know I don’t have to pay rent or anything, and I’m blessed that I don’t have any student loans to repay, but I don’t want you and Mom covering my personal expenses. And I was hoping to get my own apartment at some point. I mean, the guesthouse is great and all, but what’s it going to look like if I bring a girl home and Jake is hanging out the window, screaming my name? Or, worse, Mom is tracking who’s coming and going!”
“Jake better not be hanging out any window!”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do,” Matthew said with a light chuckle. “Which is why you need to relax and trust me when I tell you it will all work out. Find out if the Pro Bono Partnership can use you. Then go from there.”
Collin nodded, a slight degree of uncertainty lingering in his eyes. He did trust his father, but his future prospects still felt daunting. He took a sip of his own drink, wincing as the bitter fluid burned the back of his throat.
Matthew laughed, “You’re not a scotch man, I take it!”
“Sorry, Pops! I’m more of a bourbon guy like Uncle Mark.”
His father winked at him. “I’ll be sure to pick up a bottle just for you. Now, tell me about these girls you’re planning to bring home, hoping your mother won’t be tracking!”
* * *
Pulling his new car past the gates of Stallion-Briscoe Ranch, Collin was surprised by the intensity of emotion that suddenly overwhelmed him. It happened every time he returned to his uncle’s home. Stallion-Briscoe Ranch was well over eight hundred acres of working cattle ranch, an equestrian center and an entertainment complex that specialized in corporate and private client services. With the property being central to Austin, Houston, Dallas and Fort Worth, the ranch had made quite a name for itself.
Back in the day, Edward Briscoe, the ranch’s original owner, had been one of the original black cowboys. Not long after the birth of his three daughters—Eden and the twins, Marla and Marah—he and his first wife had expanded their Texas longhorn operation, adding two twenty-thousand-square-foot event barns and a country bed-and-breakfast.
After Marah Briscoe’s marriage to business tycoon John Stallion, Edward had gifted the property to his daughter and new son-in-law, her love for a Stallion ending the conflict that had brought the couple together in the first place. With her father wanting to sell the ranch, John Stallion wanting to buy the property and Marah interfering at every turn, their acquaintance had gotten off to a contentious start. Under the umbrella of Stallion Enterprises and managed by brothers Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, the ranch had grown exponentially. It was now a resource for several government programs that assisted children and families in need. It was a community center of sorts and a bright light in the Dallas area. But the ranch was still home to all the Stallions and the pride and joy of the family.
Eleven years ago, Collin had been sent to Stallion-Briscoe Ranch as a part of his court-ordered plea agreement for stealing Matthew Stallion’s car. It was where he had found family and a sense of belonging. He’d grown up at the ranch, and returning to where it had all started for him punched him in the gut every time.
His father and his uncles were all standing on the front porch as he stepped out of his car. Pride registered over their expressions, broad chests pushed forward as they moved down the porch steps to greet him and inspect his ride.
“Congratulations, nephew!” Mark Stallion said as he wrapped Collin in a heavy bear hug.
John and Luke Stallion echoed the sentiment. “When did you get home, son?” his uncle John asked.
“Yesterday.”
“Nice ride!” Luke exclaimed. “Somebody did something right.”
“Collin actually went to college and studied,” John said. He shot his brother a look. “And he completed his undergrad in three years. He didn’t take the five-year route like some other people we know.”
“Are you ever going to let that go?” Luke queried. “I’ve been out of school and managing my own division in the company for how many years now, and you still keep harping on the fact that it took me a little longer to find my way!”
Matthew chuckled, “When you pay him back for those extra semesters I’m sure he’ll let it go.”
“That would be a start,” John said teasingly as they all laughed heartily.
Luke turned his attention back to his nephew. “So, what are your plans? You make any yet?”
“Still trying to figure it out,” Collin answered as he shot his father a look.
Matthew nodded. “Collin might do some pro bono work while he gets himself acclimated. He doesn’t know yet if corporate law is what he wants to do.”
John nodded. “Nothing wrong with that. Take your time and don’t rush into anything. Success comes when you love what you’re doing, and it doesn’t feel like work.”
“Actually,” Mark added, “I might be able to use you around here while you figure it out.”
“Here?” Collin’s eyes widened.
“We could use another mentor for our youth program. You went through it, so you’d be perfect. It’s only part-time and it doesn’t pay much, but it’ll put some change into your pocket until you find something else.”
Collin glanced at his father and Matthew shrugged, lifting his hands as if he were surrendering.
“I didn’t say anything,” Matthew said. “I told you everything will always work out when you need it to. You just need to have faith.”
Mark looked from one to the other, a confused expression on his face. “What am I missing?”
Matthew laughed, patting his son on the back. Before either could respond, John’s wife, Marah, called to them from the front porch. “Breakfast! Come eat, please!”
* * *
Collin slid back into the comfort of the family dynamics like he hadn’t been away at school for three years earning a bachelor’s degree in political science and another three earning a Juris Doctor. Summers when he hadn’t taken classes, he had interned. First, for a private marketing and communications firm, then a local senator at the Capitol building, and for the past two summers, with Mass Legal Aid Services. The experiences had helped him grow and now he was home.
As the oldest grandchild in the family, he’d always heard his name called first and often. He was pleasantly surprised to see that his cousins and brother were now old enough to step up, the adults no longer looking to him first to run and fetch things or to corral the younger kids.
He sat between his father and his uncle Mark, listening as his aunt Marah’s father told one of the bawdy jokes he was known for. The women were all shaking their heads and admonishing the old man to keep things G-rated for the many little ears hanging on to every word he was saying, while the youngsters hoped he would slip up and say something out of turn.
Looking around the table, Collin was in awe of how everyone had seemed to age, still themselves, but not. Grandpa Edward sat at the head of the table. He’d been gray before, but his head of silver hair had thinned considerably. Shortly after the death of Juanita, his second wife, he’d suffered a stroke. Collin had been in high school then, and although it had been a few years since the old man’s health had failed him, Grandpa Edward still struggled with his speech. He also walked with a limp, and one arm was locked tight to his side, permanently disabled. He was particularly cantankerous, too.
Marah fussed over him despite his constant bellowing to be left to his own devices. He loved to spend most of his time in the playroom on the second floor, watching the younger children play, and slipping five-dollar bills into their pockets when their parents weren’t looking. He and Collin had often fished together in the pond on the other side of the large estate and Collin hoped to be able to do that with the old man again.
John and Marah sat on either side of the patriarch, Marah fretting and John beaming with pride as he sat back, observing them all. Once or twice he and Collin exchanged a look and Collin knew he embodied every hope and dream his uncle had ever had for all the members of his family. John’s daughter, Gabrielle, and Mark’s daughter, Irene, sat between their fathers, the two teens still bickering about nothing. Despite their age difference—Irene being older by four years—they were the best of friends, and when they weren’t fighting, the two girls were huddled together, whispering and laughing about something.
Irene’s mother, his aunt Michelle, affectionately known as Mitch to family and friends, and his aunt Joanne, Luke’s wife, were refilling empty platters as they puttered between the kitchen and the oversize dining table. Collin’s mother and his aunt Phaedra, the only sister to Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, and married to his mother’s oldest brother, Mason Boudreaux, were in the other room rounding up the kids around their own table.
Aunt Phaedra and Uncle Mason had three children: Cole, Addison and Fletcher Boudreaux. Jake was giving them orders, lording over the younger kids simply because he was older. Collin couldn’t help but think he’d taught him well. He turned his attention back to Grandpa Edward.
The old man could barely hold his exuberance as he shared his joke. “It was spring in the Old West. The cowboys rode the trails looking for cattle that had survived the winter. As one cowboy’s horse went around the narrow trail, it came upon a rattlesnake warming itself in the spring sunshine. The horse reared, and the cowboy drew his six-gun to shoot the snake. ‘Hold on there, partner,’ said the snake. ‘Don’t shoot! I’m an enchanted rattlesnake, and if you don’t shoot me, I’ll give you any three wishes you want.’
“The cowboy decided to take a chance. He knew he was safely out of the snake’s striking range. He said, ‘Okay, first, I’d like to have a face like Denzel, then I’d like a body like that wrestler they call the Rock, and finally, I’d like sexual equipment like this here horse I’m riding.’ The rattlesnake said, ‘All right, when you get back to the bunkhouse you’ll have all three wishes.’ The cowboy turned his horse around and galloped at full speed all the way to the bunkhouse. He dismounted and went straight inside to the mirror.
“Staring back at him in the mirror was the face of Denzel. He ripped the shirt off his back and revealed bulging, rippling muscles, just like the Rock. Really excited now, he tore down his jeans, looked at his crotch and shouted, ‘Oh, my God, I was riding the mare!’”
Collin burst out laughing with the older members of the family. Irene and Gabby exchanged a look.
“I don’t get it,” fifteen-year-old Gabby said, looking around the table. Her eyes were wide, and bewilderment swept over her face.
“You don’t need to get it,” John answered. He raised his eyebrows and tossed his wife a look.
Marah only shook her head in response.
Irene leaned to whisper in Gabrielle’s ear. Both girls suddenly burst out laughing.
Collin was suddenly reminded of his high school graduation, when the girls had been eight and twelve and had thought it amusing to announce at family breakfast that they’d seen him playing with his penis after bursting into his room unannounced. He’d been mortified with embarrassment. Despite his insistence that he’d only been adjusting himself in his boxer briefs as he dressed, the moment had become fodder for too many jokes among the family. He stole a glance at Luke, who was grinning at him.
He shook his head. “Don’t go there, Uncle Luke.”
“You must have read my mind.”
Matthew laughed, “I’m sure we all thought the same thing, but I agree with Collin. Time to let that go.”
“Time to change the subject,” Marah intoned. “Everyone needs to eat up. We need to get ready to leave for church and from the looks of things some of you need a little more God than others!” She narrowed her gaze on the girls, her head waving from side to side.
Gabrielle rolled her eyes, then zeroed in on Collin. Everyone had been extolling praises on him, admonishing the younger crowd to be more like their big cousin. She wasn’t quite as impressed and had no qualms about saying so. Picking on Collin had been her and Irene’s favorite thing to do for as long as she could remember.
“Collin, can we ride to church with you? We want to ride in your new car.”
He gave her a look back, not easily swayed by her sweet smile and the doe-eyed gaze she was giving him. He had no doubt that Trouble One and Trouble Two had other plans up their sleeves that probably involved him driving them to the mall after Sunday service. Before he could respond, his uncle Mason bellowed from the other end of the table, saving him from what surely would have turned into a moment of discord, with him being the villain.
“Sorry, girls, but Collin is chauffeuring us boys to church this morning. He promised me, Jake, Fletcher and Cole a ride. You two will have to catch him next time.”
Collin shot his uncle a grateful look. He winked at his cousins, and the girls pouted profusely at having their plans usurped. “Sorry, girls,” he said as he reached for the platter of bacon and took a second helping.
“What about after church?” Irene asked, shifting forward as she batted her lashes at him.
“I’m going horseback riding. I haven’t been down to the stables since I got home. I need to check on my horse and I’m sure the stalls probably need mucking and the horses need to be brushed. Maybe you two could come and help me out?”
“Yuck!” both said in unison, their faces twisted with aversion.
“Let’s not,” Irene said with a shake of her head.
“And just say we did!” Gabrielle concluded as she finished her favorite cousin’s new favorite saying.
Breakfast was the best of everything Collin loved about his family. Laughter was abundant, advice was as generous as the food, and standing there in the shadows of the men he loved most, Collin knew that whatever worries he might have had, he had more than his fair share of support to help him get through. Home had never felt better.
Chapter 2 (#u982d8f8e-7b54-5b46-aa84-790bf12d6c98)
London Jacobs eyed her two best friends with a raised brow. The two women stood in her office, peeking through the closed blinds and out toward the conference room. They were giggling like grade-schoolers. Paula Graves and Felicia Tyson waved her inside, closing the door as she stepped over the threshold.
“What’s going on?” London asked as she moved to the executive’s chair made of leather, dropping her purse into the desk drawer and her leather attaché on the desktop.
Paula waved a hand in her direction. “Good morning! The new guy is here.”
“And he’s absolutely gorgeous!” Felicia exclaimed. “There’s no way I’m going to be able to work with him and stay focused.”
London laughed, “You two are unbelievable!” She moved to the glass and pulled the blinds open. Just as she did, she came face-to-face with the firm’s director of operations, who was standing on the other side of the glass. Perry Swann was headed toward the conference room. He came to an abrupt halt, his eyes shifting to stare at the three of them. He suddenly gestured for their attention, waving them to follow him.
“This can’t be good,” Felicia said. She shot London a look.
“It’s not even nine o’clock yet,” Paula muttered, her head waving.
London gave the man a nod and slight smile, then watched as he turned and disappeared into the meeting room. She focused back on her friends, her eyes rolling skyward. “I’m sure it’s fine. You two need to stop being so dramatic.”
“After the weekend I’ve had, I deserve to be dramatic,” Felicia said. “Gary came home and all he did was argue with the old people,” she said, referring to her brother. Her wayward sibling had been a boil on the family’s good name since his first arrest when he was sixteen. Their father was a state representative who’d focused his election on the social evils of addiction and crime. Representative Tyson had lifted his only son up as an example of his understanding of the plight facing the families in his district. London could only begin to imagine their turmoil with Gary’s current release for yet another petty crime. She nodded, reaching to give the young woman a hug.
The three women exhaled simultaneously, low gusts of air blowing past glossy lips. Their gazes shifted back and forth, and then they laughed.
London moved to the door and pulled it open. “Let’s go meet the new guy,” she said.
* * *
“Ladies, good morning,” Perry said as he greeted the trio with a stern stare. He met each of their gazes as he beckoned them into the room.
“Good morning, Perry,” London said, narrowing her gaze as she met his. “To what do we owe the honor this morning?”
Most of the staff was sitting around, sipping cups of coffee and eating doughnuts from Jarams Artisan Donuts. The shop was a north Dallas fixture that specialized in pretty confections. Three white baker’s boxes held fried rings of dough filled with an assortment of creams, drizzled with glazes and sprinkled with powdered sugar, nuts and candies. They scented the whole room with an abundance of sweet fragrance.
Perry gestured toward the other end of the space and the man standing there, shaking hands. “I figured since we were having a staff meeting and welcoming our new attorney, it wouldn’t hurt to kick off the week with a treat.”
London gave him a slight nod. Perry had only recently assumed responsibility for the law firm and was still finding his balance with the staff. He had a reputation for being uptight and a tad anal. He was a stickler for punctuality and usually frowned on them not using every minute of their time working. She couldn’t help wondering what was so special about the new guy that warranted the party-like welcome.
Perry seemed to read her mind. His voice dropped an octave as he leaned in to whisper, “His name is Collin Stallion. Heir to Stallion Enterprises and the infamous Stallion family fortune. His mother is also...”
“Judge Katrina Stallion. She serves the 232nd District Criminal Court. I’m familiar with her. She has a large presence at the Dallas Girls Club. She’s been mentoring there for years.” There was a hint of awe in London’s tone.
Perry nodded his head excitedly. “Yes! And the Stallion family have been great supporters of all our efforts. His father has volunteered his services here many times and John Stallion sits on the board.”
London barely gave the man a hint of a smile in response. There weren’t many in Dallas who didn’t know the Stallion name or reputation. Stallion Enterprises had been started by John Stallion, one of four brothers. It was a successful corporate empire built on commercial real estate and development, as well as a shipping company, numerous entertainment interests and a lengthy chain of hotels. The brothers—Matthew, Mark, Luke and John—had grown the endeavor into a multi-billion-dollar enterprise.
“Let me introduce you,” Perry started, just as his secretary called his name, gesturing frantically for his attention.
“Please, go,” London said. “I’ll introduce myself.”
As Perry hurried out of the room, London turned to eye the man who had most of the women, and a few of the men, fawning for his attention. Paula and Felicia had already shaken hands with him and both now sat at the table, doughnuts in hand as they whispered like two hens. She shook her head at them as Paula gestured in his direction, winking teasingly.
Collin Stallion was definitely as good-looking as both her friends had claimed. He was tall, easily standing over six feet. He was dressed in a silk suit that fitted him to perfection, the dark navy flattering his warm beige complexion. A white dress shirt, red paisley necktie and black patent-leather dress shoes completed the ensemble. The shoes were expensive and highly polished, and told London everything she needed to know about the man. His hair was dreadlocked, the light, sandy-brown strands falling just past his shoulders. He’d captured the length in a neat ponytail that hung down the center of his back.
Collin was suddenly staring directly at her. His eyes were a deep shade of amber with gold flecks that shimmered behind lengthy lashes. London heard herself gasp, a swift inhale of air that sounded as if she’d been punched square in the stomach. He was dazzling, emanating a glow of kindness that felt infectious. It had captivated everyone in the room and even London was finding it difficult to resist.
She snatched her gaze from his and took two deep breaths before shifting her eyes back to his. He was still staring, a bright smile filling his chiseled face. He was exquisite, and despite her every effort, he took her breath away. Needing a distraction, she turned her attention back to his shoes, which, she recognized, were designed by the contemporary shoemaker Maison Corthay. The crisply polished leather easily cost what she paid in rent for three months. She hated that she knew that. Her obsession with designer fashion was a guilty pleasure few were aware of. Nor did they know that most of her own designer-label possessions were previous years’ releases found at local thrift and consignment shops.
Everyone was familiar with the Stallion family’s reputation. Collin’s parents were at the top of their game in the legal profession. His uncles had built one of the largest black-owned corporations in the world, each of them making one of Forbes magazine’s rich lists annually. The family’s wealth was impressive and mind-boggling. Collin Stallion’s silver spoon came with gold medallions and diamond-encrusted embellishments. So, what was he really doing there? Her name being spoken pulled at her attention. She looked up with a start, then forced a smile to her face as she lifted her eyes to find Perry and Collin standing right in front of her. Her gaze met Collin’s and locked.
“London is one of our staff attorneys. She litigates postconviction cases here in the Dallas area. She’s been a top litigator for us for almost two years now,” Perry said.
He went on to complete the introduction. “London, this is Collin Stallion. Attorney Stallion was in Boston prior to passing the bar here in Texas. He’s bypassing an opportunity to practice corporate law to help us here with our innocence initiative. You two will be working closely together.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stallion. Welcome aboard.”
“Please, call me Collin,” he said as his palm slid gently against hers.
London was surprised to discover his hands weren’t as soft and pasty as she had expected. His skin was slightly calloused, his fingers were strong, and his palm was surprisingly hot. A wave of heat surged in her like a firestorm. London was taken aback by the magnitude of it and practically snatched her hand from his.
The furl of his lips deepened, showcasing the prettiest set of snow-white teeth. “Thank you,” he said, his deep voice thick and rich like blackstrap molasses. “I look forward to our working together.”
London tossed him a nod of her head. “I think I’ll grab a doughnut,” she said as she stepped back, Perry already pulling another attorney forward to make an introduction.
A doughnut? Did I really just say that? London shook her head as she eased over to the other side of the room. I should have kept looking at his damn shoes, she thought.
* * *
Both Paula and Felicia were grinning foolishly at her as she sat down.
“That looked like it went well,” Felicia said, her laughter teasing. “You didn’t trip on anything.”
“That glazed deer-in-headlights look you have isn’t pretty, though,” Paula said. “There’s a hint of desperation, just a tiny hint,” she added teasingly, gesturing with her thumb and forefinger.
“Neither of you is funny,” London said, a frown pulling the lines of her face downward. Her eyes rolled as she poked at a chocolate-iced doughnut Felicia pushed toward her.
“Actually, I think it went very well. He’s still staring at you,” Paula quipped.
“Staring at who?” London asked, her eyes widening.
Paula laughed, “At you.” She gestured with her head, throwing the slightest of nods in the man’s direction.
London tossed a quick glance over her shoulder. Collin was still staring and when he saw her looking, he smiled.
* * *
Collin gazed from his office toward Attorney Jacobs’s, hoping against all odds to catch a glimpse of the beautiful woman. London Jacobs had taken his breath away and it had truly been a struggle to contain his interest. She’d captured his attention the moment she’d entered the conference room. Despite her obvious efforts to mask her supermodel looks, she was stunning. She wore the barest hint of makeup, her face adorned with just a little eyeliner and rose-tinted lip gloss. She wore a charcoal-gray silk suit, the blazer closed with four buttons and belted around her waist. Her hair was pulled back into a slick ponytail. She was a wisp of a woman, petite in stature, with hints of curves in all the right places. She was the sweetest confection, with a mouth that begged to be kissed. Despite his best efforts at self-control, he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing London Jacobs’s delicate mouth or the dreamy look in her eyes when she’d looked at him.
There was a purity in her expression, and something very refreshing in her appraisal of him. She hadn’t seemed at all impressed, neither the reputation of his family name nor his looks swaying her attention. Usually women fell all over him, influenced by one, the other or both. Women his father and uncles had often told him to be wary of.
While there had been a few who had been excessively attentive to him, London had appeared genuinely disinterested until those moments they’d locked gazes and held on. And when they’d connected, it wasn’t what he saw but more about a feeling that singed the edges of his spirit as heat coursed up his spine. There’d been fire in the dark orbs of her eyes and it had ignited something deep in his core that was still simmering on a slow burn.
Perry suddenly stood in the doorway, gesturing for his attention, an index finger waving as if it was unhinged. “Collin, if I can grab you for minute, please.” He shook a manila file folder in the other hand.
“Certainly,” Collin said, rising from his seat.
He followed as Perry led the way to London’s office. Perry knocked before he pushed his way inside.
Collin paused at the entrance, and when she gestured with a polite smile he felt a quiver of something he couldn’t quite name billow through his midsection.
London greeted them both warmly. “Gentlemen, please, have a seat. How can I help you?”
Perry looked from her to him with a raised brow. “They’ve set a trial date for the Jerome James case. It’s been decided that Collin will sit second chair with you.”
* * *
Although his internships had given him a wealth of experience, Collin couldn’t help feeling like he might be out of his element. The boxes of case files that littered his office seemed to be growing exponentially as he shifted through the multitude of folders that detailed everything about Mr. Jerome James, a former community activist incarcerated for the murder of his wife. James had always maintained his innocence and had become somewhat of a legend in the community. Affording him a new trial had taken the innocence coalition eight years of one court motion after another to secure. Countless hours and the efforts of a large task force had laid the foundation for what would soon come. Collin blew a soft sigh, moving yet another folder of documents to his completed pile as he pulled one from the to-be-read pile. Leaning back in his seat, he made himself comfortable.
He’d been reading for a good hour when he looked up to find Attorney Jacobs staring at him. She stood in his doorway with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, a curious furrow on her brow. Amusement pierced his spirit as he stared back. She hadn’t had much to say to him since he’d been assigned to work with her. For the last few weeks, the little conversation between them had been limited to polite chatter and her admonishments for him to update himself on the details of the case as she dropped yet another box of files onto his desk. That she was standing there, looking like she was interested in a real conversation, was clearly progress.
“Good morning,” he said, his eyes lifting with his bright smile.
“Good morning. Weren’t you in that same position when we all left you here last night?”
He chuckled, “I probably was. I need to make sure I’m up to speed, so I left late and came in early.”
“Interesting,” she said, the word coming on a low gust of air past red-tinted lips.
“Why is that interesting?”
She ignored his question as she glanced down to her wristwatch. “Mr. James was transferred to county jail yesterday. He’ll be held there until his trial is over. I’m headed over to talk to him about his court date. Would you like to join me?”
Collin’s smile widened. “I’d like that. I’d like that very much!”
* * *
An hour later, the two were on their way to the Lew Sterrett Justice Center of Dallas. Despite his offer to drive, London has insisted on taking her own car, so he settled back against the leather seats of her SUV and tried to enjoy the ride. He’d tried to pull the woman into conversation, but London wasn’t interested in talking. He’d listened as she’d taken phone calls, the Bluetooth connection echoing through the car interior. Then she’d hummed along with the radio, completely lost in her own thoughts. By the time they pulled into the parking lot of the correctional facility she’d done everything imaginable to keep from conversing with him.
“Are you always so rude?” he asked.
London shut down the car engine as she turned toward him, the question surprising her. Because she had been rude. She just hadn’t expected to be called out on it and there was no way she could explain to the man that he had her feeling like a high schooler with her first crush. She took a deep breath. “Excuse me?”
“Rude. Are you always so rude?”
“I didn’t realize...”
“You have gone out of your way not to speak with me despite my efforts to talk to you and maybe discuss the case. You’ve talked to your secretary, some friend named Joan and your mother. But you’ve barely said three words to me since we left the office.”
London’s eyes danced across his face. Something she didn’t recognize surged through the pit of her stomach, like an electric current stuck on high. “I apologize. It was never my intent to be rude to you.”
“Except you were.”
She took another deep breath, filling her lungs with air and then blowing it out slowly. Her gaze was still flitting back and forth over the intense stare he was giving her. “Why are you here?” she suddenly asked, an air of attitude in her tone. “What are you trying to prove?”
His brow shifted upward. “I’m not trying to prove anything. I’m just trying to do the best job I can.”
“But why here? There are hundreds of attorneys who apply and are denied, and you slide in on your family name and no doubt a big donation from Mommy and Daddy. You barely have any litigation experience under your belt!” She threw her hands up in frustration.
Collin bristled, the comment hitting a nerve he hadn’t known he possessed. There was no denying that the Stallion name opened doors that might have otherwise been closed. Although he had never purposely used his family connections to garner favor, admittedly it did happen sometimes. But when challenged, he was more than capable of holding his own against the naysayers. He shifted his gaze from hers, finally breaking the connection that he’d been holding with no effort.
A moment passed between them before he answered. “So maybe I do have something to prove. Maybe it’s about what I’m able to accomplish, in spite of my name. I like to think I’m a good attorney, even with my limited experience, and I’m here because I believe in what the firm stands for. I want to help, and I had hoped to be able to do that without people judging me before they took the time to know me.”
London suddenly felt foolish. Her eyes flitted back and forth, and she struggled to find the words to apologize and not dig herself into an even bigger hole. “I’m sorry,” she said finally, her tone dropping low. “You’re right. I should not have judged you. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to start over.” She extended her hand to shake his. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Attorney Stallion. I look forward to our working together.”
Collin smiled sweetly as he gripped her fingers against his palm. He gave her a slight nod of his head. “Thank you, Counselor. I appreciate that. I know I can learn a lot from you and I’m grateful for the opportunity.”
* * *
With his court case pending, their client had been transferred from the state’s maximum-security prison in Ferguson, Texas, to the county jailhouse in Dallas. Back in his day, Jerome James had been a popular community activist, known for frequently going toe-to-toe with local law enforcement. His frequent protests and rallies against the legal vanguard he alleged was corrupt and immoral had made him more enemies than friends.
When he hadn’t been fighting for the rights of those most marginalized and disenfranchised, he’d been a respected automotive repair technician working at a local garage. He had also been a loving husband and father, living a blessed life, with the house, dog and picket fence. Things had turned for him when his wife, a beloved schoolteacher, was found murdered in their bed. He’d been convicted of that murder, despite more evidence pointing to his innocence than his guilt. It had been a miscarriage of justice of monumental proportions.
Collin had studied the detailed police reports. The couple had just celebrated their twelfth wedding anniversary. They were also anxiously awaiting the birth of their third child. James had left for work early that day, kissing his wife goodbye as she’d slept. Later that morning, Mary James’s body was found in their bedroom. She’d been sexually assaulted and bludgeoned to death. Despite no tangible evidence, the prosecution had argued he’d raped and murdered his wife after an argument. Months later, James had been convicted of the crime, sentenced to life in prison with no possibility of parole. Years of appeals and a mountain of discovery had since turned up potentially exculpatory evidence pointing to Mr. James’s innocence that the prosecution had concealed. Now Jerome James was getting a second chance at justice.
Collin hadn’t known what to expect as they checked in and proceeded through the prison’s inner maze to the visiting room where they waited for their client. London had briefed him on the case’s procedural tactics that she had been personally involved in overseeing, and there was an air of pride in her voice as she detailed the decisions she’d been proudest of making.
“Our original motion for DNA testing on items of evidence from the crime scene omitted a bloody towel that had been found in the woods behind the family home. Unfortunately, those tests could not exclude Mr. Jerome as the source of the DNA collected from the bed.”
“Why was the towel not included?”
“A previous attorney on the case missed adding it to the evidence list when the motion was filed.”
“And that was three years ago, correct?”
“Yes, the motion that was filed most recently includes that towel and I’m willing to bet the tests will prove conclusively that he didn’t harm his wife. That someone else was present in the family bed.”
Before Collin could respond, the heavy iron door swung open and Jerome James was ushered inside. He was a big bear of a man, years of prison yard work and cell-block weight training having sculpted his body into hard lean muscle. With his salt-and-pepper hair and full beard, he looked very distinguished, and entered with an air of confidence that actually surprised Collin. He gave the younger man a nod, eyeing him with interest.
The guard gestured for him to take a seat, and after securing his handcuffs to the chain bolted in the center of the table, he exited the room and closed the door behind him. Mr. James shifted his gaze toward London.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Ms. Jacobs. To what do I owe the honor? I was actually surprised when they moved me.”
London sat down, placing her hands atop his. “You’ve been granted a new trial, Mr. James. The state of Texas has set aside your original verdict and we’re going to be able to present your case with the evidence that wasn’t included in the first trial.”
Mr. James said nothing, seeming to ponder the information for a good few minutes. Then he nodded his head and turned his attention on Collin. “And who might you be, young man?”
Collin dropped into the seat beside London. “Collin Stallion, sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Collin will be sitting second chair on your case,” London interjected. “He just recently joined the Pro Bono Partnership.”
“Where’d you go to school?” Mr. James questioned.
“I graduated from Harvard, sir.”
“Why didn’t you go to a historically black college or university? Our HBCUs don’t get nearly enough recognition or love.”
“Legacy, sir. Both my parents were Harvard alum.”
The old man eyed him intently. “Stallion? Who’s your father, son?”
“Matthew Stallion, sir.”
There was a moment as Mr. James appeared to be searching his thoughts. After a minute or two of reflection he simply nodded his head. He turned his attention back to London. “Would you please get a message to my son? Tell him I’m here, please. Hopefully, he’ll be able to come see me now that I’m closer.”
“We can call your daughter, too, if you’d like,” London said.
The man shook his head. “My Jackie lives in New York now. She has a good job with some fashion company there. I don’t want y’all upsetting her. I’m sure her brother will tell her whatever needs to be told.”
“Yes, sir,” London said. “Do you have any questions for us, Mr. James?”
He shook his head, his expression blank.
London nodded. Rising from her seat, she knocked on the door, and the guard responded almost immediately. “We will probably be back sometime early next week,” she said. “If you need anything before then, just call.”
Mr. James nodded. “Just get that message to my son. I don’t need anything else.”
The guard gestured for them to leave. Mr. James called after Collin.
“Yes, sir?”
“Please, tell your father hello for me.”
* * *
“He wasn’t excited,” Collin said, the words spoken aloud before he could catch them.
London cut an eye in his direction.
He eyed her back, his shoulders shrugging slightly. “I thought he would have been more excited.”
She blew a soft sigh. “The first time I met him I thought the same thing. But when you think about it, for the last thirty-two years he’s known nothing but disappointment. His wife dies. He’s barely able to grieve before he’s being accused of her murder. The trial was a travesty. He’s convicted and incarcerated. He loses his children. Every countermotion his defense team made either failed or was rejected. And now we’re going to make him relive it all again, with no assurances of a different outcome. Unfortunately, he’s a black man in a judicial system that doesn’t value his life. When you consider the odds are stacked against him, and us, he can’t afford to be excited. If we lose, he could very well be given the lethal injection this time.”
Collin nodded. “Sounds like you and I have our work cut out.”
“You and I will not lose this case and I don’t care what it takes,” she said emphatically.
He met the look she tossed him, her eyes slightly misted. “I’m going to hold you to that,” he said.
“I haven’t eaten anything today,” she said. “If you don’t have plans, why don’t we grab some lunch? I know you’ve been through most of the files already and I can answer your questions and fill in any blanks for you.”
“I’d like that,” Collin said. “I would like that a lot.”
She smiled. “Don’t get too excited, Stallion. I plan to grill you, too. I need to see what you do and don’t know.”
* * *
His father was in his office poring over a mountain of paperwork when Collin entered the family home. It was late, and his mother and brother were already in bed. Matthew looked up from what he was doing and gave his son a quick nod of his head.
“Hey there! You’re keeping some late hours!”
“Working on a case. There’s a lot to catch up on.”
Matthew leaned back in his chair, folding his hands together in his lap. “So, how are things going with your new job?”
“I like it. I really like it a lot. Met my client today. Apparently, he knows you. He asked me to tell you hello.”
“Really? Who is he?”
“Jerome James. He’s been incarcerated for the murder of his wife. He’s been granted a new trial and I’m going to be sitting second chair.”
Matthew’s eyes dropped as he fell into thought. When he looked back up Collin was eyeing him curiously. He gave his son a slight smile. “Jerome and his wife, Mary, went to school with us. Jerome graduated with your uncle John and Mary graduated with me. Back in the day we were big supporters of the causes Jerome took up. Even marched the streets with him a time or two. He was a good man. Everything about that case was tragic.”
“The case file reads like a witch hunt.”
“The racial climate back then was rough, and Jerome loved to make waves. He was not popular with the local police or the politicians. He wanted change and he fought hard to make that happen. Remind me, who was the original prosecutor?”
“Victor Wells.”
“Newly appointed Texas Supreme Court Justice Victor Wells?”
Collin nodded. “The one and only. Do you know him?”
Matthew nodded. A look of foreboding washed over his expression. The same look that Collin had seen on London’s face when they had first discussed the case and Wells’s name had been mentioned. It had given Collin pause and when he’d asked about it she’d dismissed him, insisting that there wasn’t anything amiss that he needed to be concerned with. “Yes, I do,” Matthew finally answered.
“Is there something about Justice Wells that I should know?” Collin questioned.
Matthew hesitated for a quick second as if there was more that he wanted to say, but he didn’t elaborate. He just shook his head no.
“Any advice?”
“Just be smart and make sure you do your due diligence. And no matter what happens, do not be intimidated.”
Collin nodded as his father continued.
“Who’s your first chair?” Matthew asked.
“Attorney London Jacobs. She’s been with the initiative for a few years and litigating their big cases for the last two years.” Collin’s eyes were bright, his entire face lifting with the smile that spread from ear to ear. He thought back to his day and the shift in her attitude toward him between breakfast and lunch. She’d been exceptionally open and forthcoming as they’d discussed the case. She’d asked his opinion and had seemed genuinely interested in his answers. An encounter that had started out tensely had transitioned nicely to a pleasant exchange.
Matthew smiled back. “I know Ms. Jacobs. She’s quite impressive. Jerome will be well served.”
“I think we’re going to be a great team,” Collin said, a hint of excitement in his tone.
His father nodded, his head bobbing up and down slowly. He stared at his oldest child but said nothing, bemusement painting his expression.
“What?” Collin asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
Matthew shook his head. “Nothing, son. Nothing at all.”
Chapter 3 (#u982d8f8e-7b54-5b46-aa84-790bf12d6c98)
London was pleasantly surprised by Collin’s work ethic. He asked questions she hadn’t expected, even giving her reason to pause as she pondered a few of his suggestions. He was formidable, and it was apparent he was as dedicated to Mr. James’s interests as she was.
She hadn’t expected to like him as much as she did. She found herself looking forward to seeing him when she arrived at the office. Since that first lunch, they’d eaten lunch together a few times, that hour of personal time quickly becoming the highlight of her day.
When he burst through the door of her office, his excitement was palpable. “We got the DNA tests back!” he exclaimed, waving the file over his head. He passed her the manila folder, reciting the results as she flipped through the documents. “According to the lab, the DNA on the towel belonged to Mary James and an unknown male. It was also a perfect match to the DNA from the sperm left on the bedsheets. They’re running it through the CODIS database now to see if we can get a hit and hopefully a name. Keep your fingers crossed, but I think we just got the big break in the case we needed.”
London pumped a fist, her own excitement spreading across her face. She squealed with glee, resisting the urge to throw herself into his arms and jump for joy. “Yes, yes, yes!” she exclaimed. “Make sure you add this to our evidence list. We’ll need to send copies over to the prosecutor’s office, as well. Full disclosure. I don’t want them making any claims about our impeding their due process.”
“I already took care of it,” he answered. “I also filed a Public Information Act request. I want to get a look at what other documents were in the prosecution’s file that might have been withheld at the time of his trial.”
“You think there’s something there that can help us?”
“I don’t know. It’s just a gut feeling I have.”
London nodded. “I trust your instincts, Counselor.”
Collin crossed his arms over his broad chest. “A compliment. I’m touched!”
London laughed, “An attorney with jokes!”
“One or two,” he teased.
She shook her head. “You available for lunch later?”
“I actually need to go down to the courthouse and then the law library. Are you by chance available for dinner?”
Her eyebrows lifted, a hint of surprise tinting her cheeks. “D-dinner? I’m not... Well... I don’t...” she stammered.
“It’s just dinner, London. We’ve had lunch together every day for the past few weeks. Dinner would be no different.”
She rolled her eyes skyward. “The question surprised me is all. I don’t usually...”
He stalled her comment. “What? You don’t usually eat dinner? Do you have something against the evening meal?” His expression was smug as he eyed her intently, the invitation still hanging heavily between them.
“I would love to have dinner with you,” she said finally.
Collin grinned. “I can pick you up at seven.”
“Why don’t I meet you?” she answered. “I think that would be more appropriate.”
Collin laughed, “Whatever you say, Counselor.”
“What about Jimmy’s Food Store?”
“We’re doing dinner, not lunch, Ms. Jacobs. Let’s say Truluck’s on McKinney Avenue at seven. I’ll call and reserve us a table.”
London thought to argue but Collin was out the door before she could respond. She took a step after him, suddenly thinking that dinner might be a mistake, but before she could follow after him and cancel, Perry was summoning her to a meeting. As she headed in that direction, two thoughts crossed her mind. This dinner is a huge mistake. And what the hell am I going to wear?
* * *
Paula and Felicia were pulling clothes out of London’s closet like they were shopping at Premium Outlets’s bargain basement sale. Dresses were flying from one side of the bedroom to the other, all landing in the center of her queen-size bed, if not on the floor.
“You can never go wrong with a little black dress,” Paula said.
Felicia jumped up and down excitedly. “How about that lace number you bought for that thing last year with what’s his name that you backed out of at the last minute? You know which dress I’m talking about,” she said, looking from London to Paula.
Paula laughed. “I am deeply disturbed that I do know exactly what dress you’re talking about,” she said as she rushed back to the closet, searching frantically through London’s wardrobe. “The black lace, slightly off the shoulder, that stopped at her knees. That dress was hot!”
“I am not wearing black lace!” London exclaimed, eyeing them both like they’d lost their minds. “This is not a date.”
“Like hell it isn’t!” Felicia exclaimed. “Dinner at Truluck’s Seafood Steak and Crab House is definitely a date.”
“Dinner with a man that fine is definitely a date!” Paula added.
London reached for her cell phone. “That’s it. I’m canceling,” she said as she began to scroll through her contact list.
Felicia snatched the device from her hands. “You’re doing no such thing.”
“Why in the world would you cancel?” Paula asked, finally laying her hands on that black lace. She held the dress up for the other two to see. “Now, this is special!”
London shook her head. “Oh, hell no! I am not wearing that dress and I don’t care how cute it is. That is not the impression I’m trying to make. I’m wearing a suit.”
Felicia shrugged. “You might be right. That dress says you want to get laid. But then again—” she pretended to slap her forehead before continuing “—you do want to get laid!” she laughed heartily.
London was not amused, and she said so. “You’re not helping!”
Paula held up a second dress. “This is what you’re wearing,” she said. “This is perfect!”
The other two women turned to stare. Paula held up a form-fitting sheath dress in a simple floral print with the neckline, sleeves and hem piped in black. It was simple, elegant and a favorite of London’s that she had yet to wear, the price tag still hanging from the dress label at the zipper.
“Very pretty!” Felicia exclaimed.
London nodded. “That’s not bad. That might work.”
“You need to get dressed,” Paula admonished. “It’s already six o’clock and you’re going to hit traffic with your luck.”
Thirty minutes later London stood in front of her full-length mirror, admiring her reflection. Felicia had twisted her natural hair into an updo that flattered her slight frame and Paula had perfected her makeup, adding just enough color to her face to brighten her eyes and give her a less casual appearance. Her two besties stood huddled together like proud parents sending her off to the prom. They were teary eyed and emotional, and they made her laugh.
“You’re going to blow him away,” Felicia said.
“You look fabulous!” Paula added.
“You two really need to get yourselves a life,” London said, her cheeks a brilliant shade of bright red.
Paula laughed with her. “We’re living vicariously through you.”
“Which is why you need to get you some tonight,” Felicia added. “I put condoms in your purse, just in case.”
London shook her head. “Lock the door when you leave, please,” she said, throwing them both a look. “I’ll call you both when I get home.”
Her friends grinned. “Just have a good time,” they both echoed simultaneously.
* * *
The drive to the restaurant was fraught with energy London hadn’t expected to feel. Despite her efforts to show indifference about meeting up with Collin, she was actually very excited. And anxious. Nervous tension cramped her stomach and had her perspiring like she’d just run a marathon. For the life of her she couldn’t begin to explain it if she tried.
London was no stranger to dating. She did it regularly, with a fair degree of success. She enjoyed the repartee, the subtle teasing and flirtation, and on occasion, mind-blowing sex without commitment. After the experience of one serious relationship having gone very badly, she had no interest whatsoever in a long-term relationship and quickly dismissed any man who wasn’t willing to play by the rules she established. And London had a long list of rules.
The men she dated had to be adequately employed, motivated to be successful, politically savvy, philanthropically invested in others, considerate of her grassroots mind-set, respectful of their elders and women, and not overtly religious since it had been some time since she’d last seen the inside of anyone’s church. There was no kissing on the first date. There had to be a minimum of five dates before she even contemplated being intimate with a man. She didn’t do last-minute invitations and expected outings to be planned well in advance. She was not a fan of spontaneity and she hated surprises. She never invited a man to her home, never had sex with him in her bed and never spent the night in his bed unless it was a planned getaway in a luxury hotel.
She could be fastidious, obsessive, slightly anal and not always as accommodating as she expected her male counterparts to be. She was a handful for most men and unapologetic about it. Maintaining control ensured her heart didn’t get broken, she didn’t get hurt and the relationships that didn’t work could end as amicably as she needed them to.
Now she was headed to dinner with a man who had no idea about her rule book, and she hadn’t had an opportunity to ensure he was willing to play by her rules. But it wasn’t a date, she thought, fighting the urge to turn her car around and go back home. It was dinner and one meal couldn’t possibly hurt either of them.
* * *
Collin stood outside of Truluck’s, pacing anxiously back and forth as he waited for London to arrive. He hadn’t returned to the office after leaving the law library and he hadn’t called her, not wanting to give her the opportunity to change her mind. He had learned enough about London Jacobs to theorize she would have called by now if she intended to cancel. He could only begin to imagine how she was rationalizing their sharing a meal. Apparently, she was particular about who she dated, and he imagined that despite the friendship blooming between them, he hadn’t yet made it to her short list. But he had high hopes.
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