“I like Swiss Chalet. There’s one close that delivers. You get some rest, and I’ll come get you when it arrives, all right?”
“All right.”
I brushed a kiss to her forehead and stood. “You’re safe, okay?”
“Okay.”
I stopped at her door. “I’m here if you need me.”
Tears filled her eyes, and she nodded.
I pulled the door shut behind me, leaning my head back on the wood.
What the hell was I thinking?
“Tell me what to do,” I said into the phone.
“Well, for starters,” Rene began. “You need to find her a place to live. She can’t live with you. That’ll give Scott all the ammo he needs to prove he’s right. What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t,” I admitted. “I just wanted to get her somewhere safe. Where she wouldn’t be alone and scared. My place was the only thing that came to mind.”
“Your heart is in the right place, Halton, but your logic is out the window.”
“I know.”
“If Scott Hutchings got wind of that, he would twist it and use it to his advantage. You know how he works.”
My head fell back against the chair. “Fuck.”
Rene hummed in agreement.
“She shouldn’t be working for you either. That might cause an issue.”
“Fuck that,” I growled. “She does great work. Why should that be an issue? There’s no conflict of interest. Her divorce doesn’t bring the firm into the case at all except that I’m representing her. He kicked her out, she needed a job, I needed a fill-in. It has nothing to do with the case.”
“He’ll twist it.”
“Then I’ll untwist it. I represented you when that asshole tried to sue you for that stupid fence you put up that he thought impeded his view. Same damn fucking thing.”
“Calm down, Halton.”
“I am calm. I can’t figure this out.”
“Figure out what?”
“What the hell is Scott thinking? He knows better. He knows the steps to end a marriage with as little fallout as possible. He’s the one fucking this up.” I paused. “Something Fee said about his eyes. I know he was drunk, but I’m wondering if there is more than alcohol involved.”
Rene grunted. “I have no idea. I’ll make a few more calls next week. I’m sure the gossip mill will have been working overtime. News of this will spread fast, and suddenly people who didn’t want to say anything will have lots of gossip to share.”
I huffed out a chuckle. “Okay.”
“You need to find her a place.”
“I will. I’m gonna make some calls.”
“Have you thought of calling Bentley?”
Bentley Ridge was a huge real estate guy. He owned a ton of places in Toronto. My office was in one of his buildings. His company built the condo tower where I lived. We were friends and did each other favors from time to time.
“Yeah, I will. I hate bothering him on the weekend, but I’ll make the call.”
Rene paused before he spoke again. “What’s going on with you, Halton? I’ve never known you to act this way toward a client. You’ve always been a great attorney, but you’ve never gotten personal.”
I rested my head against the back of the chair.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “There’s something different about her, Rene. Something about her that brings out some fucking protective gene I didn’t know I had in me. I want to kill Hutchings.”
“Are you sleeping with her?”
“No.” I stated emphatically. I wasn’t stupid and I had rules. No married women, no staff, and certainly not clients. Fiona was all three.
“Is it possible you’re developing feelings for her?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. That isn’t it at all.”
“Tread carefully, Halton. This isn’t just about you. She’s lost and confused and looking for a white knight.”
I sighed. “I will, Rene. I only want to help her.”
“I hope you remember that.”
I hung up and scrubbed my face.
Despite my assurances to him, I hoped I did as well.
I dialed Bentley’s number, not surprised when he answered right away.
“Hal. What can I do for you?”
I chuckled. We rarely wasted time with pleasantries. “Bentley, I need a favor.”
“Name it.”
“I need a place for a client to stay. Short term. But somewhere close to my office and secure.”
“How big?”
“Space isn’t a priority. Security is.”
“Time frame?”
“As soon as possible. And it would be for a couple of months, maybe a little longer. It’s a divorce case.”
“Anyone I know?” he asked dryly.
“Fiona Hutchings.”
There was a pause. “As in, Scott Hutchings? The man you loathe?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re representing his wife?”
“Soon-to-be-ex, yes.”
He whistled, long and low. “Wow. That’s going to be interesting. He’s going to blow a gasket when he finds out who she hired.”
“He already did. That’s why I need a place for her to stay.”
“Where is she now?”
“Ah, in my guest room.”
This time, the silence stretched on. “Hello?” I asked, thinking I’d lost him.
“Let me get this straight, Hal. Your client—the soon-to-be ex-wife of the man you hate—is currently sleeping in your guest room?”
“Well, I think she’s having a bath right now. Then we’re going to have Swiss Chalet. She likes that.”
“You’re having Swiss Chalet,” he repeated, sounding incredulous. “What the hell are you doing, Hal? You never let anyone in your personal space.” He hesitated. “Are you involved with her?”
“No. She’s a client in trouble. I’m helping her.”
“I’ve never known you to go to this much effort for a client.”
I was tired of having this conversation with people. “Well, there are extenuating circumstances. Can you help?”
“I’ll make some calls. Aiden will be in touch this afternoon.”
“Thanks, Bent. I owe you.”
“All I want is the whole story, Hal. Because no matter what BS you’re telling me, there is more to this than a client in trouble.”
He hung up.
I stared at the phone.
Was he right?
Fiona
I padded into the living room, more relaxed, but still feeling nervous. I was in Halton’s home. His most personal of places. I had learned in the time I had been working for him how private a person he was, so I knew this was a big deal.
I took in the room. It was large, with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a gorgeous view of the lake from one side, and downtown Toronto from the other end of his corner unit. Tall ceilings, dark hardwood floors, clean lines, and lots of grays, navy, and black made the space comfortable, albeit totally masculine. It was the penthouse and took up the entire floor, which was hardly surprising, given how he liked his privacy. He was the only one with access to this floor, so he never had to worry about neighbors asking for a cup of sugar. He controlled who could be at his door.