Falling Fast (Falling Fast #1) - Tina Wainscott Page 0,13
roar.
When was the last time you roared?
He pushed the door open, leaving that annoying question behind as he stepped into the understated lobby. The receptionist glanced up, then did a double take, her professional smile warming considerably. “Hello there. May I help you?”
“I have an appointment with Mr. Shatke. I’m Raleigh West.”
“Raleigh West,” she said, as though she were rolling the name around in her mouth like a piece of chocolate. She fiddled with her light-blond hair as she made a call, her blue eyes on him the whole time. “Mr. Shatke, Mr. West here to see you…yes, sir.” She hung up. “Come with me. I’ll take you to conference room two.”
It sounded like a more intimate invitation. He might have been interested in the little blonde last week. Before he’d seen Mia again. But now even the girl’s purposeful sway of her ass didn’t stir him.
She opened the door and waved him in. “Coffee? Soda or water?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
“I bet you are,” she murmured before quickly darting out and closing the door, her cheeks red.
He shook his head, laughing softly. Not as brave as she’d like to be. Just as well. Raleigh was nowhere near the mood for a casual interlude. Or anything more.
“No damned way! This is an outrage!”
“Sir—”
A door slammed open in the hallway. Raleigh jumped up and opened the door to see if anyone needed help.
“I’ll see my own attorney before I—” Mia’s enraged father shook off an older man’s attempt at calming him. His gray eyes bulged when he spotted Raleigh. “You! You slimy son of a bitch!” He rushed forward, hands outstretched.
Chambliss wasn’t the mean streets by any means, but Raleigh had handled his share of tyrants. They’d been worse in jail. Instinct kicked in, and he deflected the man’s swinging fists.
“What’d you do, seduce an old woman to get her money?” the man screamed as he tried again to punch.
Raleigh had to check his own violent reaction to being attacked, calmly twisting the man, bending his arm behind his back, and pushing him against the wall. Behind him, the man’s wife and Mia stepped into the hallway, their expressions horrified.
Raleigh leaned close to his ear. “I don’t want to hurt you, sir. Chill out.” Then the words he’d shouted registered. Seduce an old woman? Seriously?
The older man rushed forward. “Gentlemen, please.” He eased Mia’s father away. “Mr. Wentworth, calm down, sir.” He brushed his hands across the man’s rumpled shirt sleeves and let out a beleaguered sigh as he took everyone in. “I suppose we should all sit down and discuss this together now. If we can be civil.”
Raleigh raised his hands. “As long as I’m not attacked.” He glanced at Mia, whose head was bowed, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose in embarrassment.
“I’m Ben Shatke,” the attorney said, sticking out his hand briefly and shaking Raleigh’s before gesturing toward another conference room.
Mr. Wentworth didn’t go without jabbing his finger at Raleigh. “This will never fly. I will crush your little scheme in court, punk.”
Over a freakin’ lounge chair?
Raleigh met Mia’s gaze just before she stepped out of her father’s way. Even with the chaos and confusion, his heart leaped. The attorney put his hand on Raleigh’s back to guide him to the chair on the opposite side of the long table from Mr. Wentworth. He then took the seat between the men, with Mia on the right side of the table next to her mother.
Raleigh couldn’t look at her big brown eyes, the wisps of hair that had escaped from the hair clip she’d used to pile it atop her head. He forced his gaze to the attorney, but Mrs. Wentworth stole his attention first.
“You ruined our lives. Ruined my daughter’s life.” Her eyes narrowed. “And now this.”
Mr. Wentworth said, “My mother was obviously senile. Or one of those lonely older women who fall prey to con men.”
“Sir,” Raleigh said, keeping his voice modulated despite the fact that he wanted to reach over and shake the man. “If the chaise lounge means that much to you, keep it.” Maybe she’d left him the whole set, but he knew the man’s outrage had nothing to do with the furniture. It was their hatred of him, of who he was, and what he’d done to Mia.
His gaze started drifting to her when Shatke said, “I don’t believe it’s the deck furniture that’s at issue here.”