Brazen and Breathless (Untouchable #6) - Heather Long Page 0,102

testify if there was a hearing.”

Wittaker frowned. “When did he tell you this?”

So then I had to explain that incident to him, and he frowned before he checked his watch.

“If Mr. Standish approaches you again on this subject, call me as soon as you can and direct him to speak to me as well.”

“That I can do,” I said.

“All right, let’s go back in.”

When we reached the conference room this time, Maddy was on her feet with her arms folded and a tissue in her hand.

Oh, kill me.

Her eyes were faintly red-rimmed, and there was the faintest smudge of dark under her eyelashes, like her mascara had run.

Wittaker pulled out a chair for me, and I sat without saying a word. He stood there, one hand on the back of my seat. After the last couple of times at Standish, I was starting to recognize the power plays for what they were.

In this room, Wittaker was in charge. I focused on Maddy’s attorney rather than on Maddy.

“Have we reached an agreement?”

“We have,” Mr. Stevens said as he pulled out a chair, and Maddy took a seat. “We’re ready to begin. Ms. Curtis would like five minutes with her daughter at the conclusion of this conference. It can happen right here and she would prefer it in private, but will not object if you and I stay as long as we agree to keep the information revealed confidential.”

“I’ll take that under advisement,” Wittaker said before moving back to the seat at my left. “Let’s discuss what if any objections you have to Frankie filing for emancipation…”

The next thirty minutes were alternately dull as fuck and interesting. Interesting because Maddy didn’t seem to pay a lick of attention to anything the attorneys said. Her expression alternated between distant and impatient.

Watching her from the corner of my eye took some effort, so did trying to keep my face blank. I had no idea how people did this in books. They always made it sound easy. Maddy might be good at keeping her secrets, but she didn’t have a blank face either. She kept shooting me these little looks I didn’t want to try and interpret.

But I got it.

She wanted me to pay attention to her. The more I seemed to ignore her, the more it pissed her off. Or maybe it made her sad.

Ugh.

Whatever.

“To clarify, your client’s only objections to the emancipation is that she is not eighteen yet?” Wittaker said as though summarizing, but there was a distinct note of disbelief in his voice.

“It’s a consideration of maturity and on focusing on her schoolwork rather than trying to meet the parameters set forth in an emancipation claim. After all, it was Frankie’s wish to attend college, or at least that is the impression Ms. Curtis has. If that plan has changed, she has not informed Ms. Curtis of any changes.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you think will change significantly between now and April,” Wittaker stated. “In a little over nine weeks, she will be eighteen and an adult. In the grand scheme of things, she will have her independence at that point, regardless of your client’s manufactured concerns.”

Maddy’s lips thinned. Oh, she didn’t like that.

Mr. Stevens seemed unperturbed. “I could in turn, ask you the same question. What is the sudden hurry? If she turns eighteen in nine weeks, this whole situation resolves itself.”

“Except her age didn’t factor into the choices Ms. Curtis made when she abandoned Frankie, nor did they factor into her decisions to move out and leave a minor to fend for herself.”

“I’m afraid I don’t—”

“Yes, I know,” Wittaker cut him off smoothly. “You don’t agree with the characterization, but shall we examine some key incidents of the last year? Or if those aren’t enough, perhaps we could call Mr. Standish in. I understand Ms. Curtis’ fiancé has offered to testify on Frankie’s behalf at any hearing to grant her emancipation.”

Wittaker shot and Wittaker scored.

Maddy gave a jerk, and she leaned forward abruptly. “Excuse me? When did Eddie get brought into this?”

“Why don’t we invite him to join us to find out?” Wittaker didn’t blink. “I’m sure you can speak to him privately elsewhere, but he’s been very cooperative to our efforts.”

Some of the color drained from her expression, and I couldn’t help it, I faced her now. She actually looked ill. Maybe there really was trouble in purgatory, or whatever it was they were doing was called.

“We don’t need to do that,” she mused and then focused