for.â She held her hands out, palms up. A helpless gesture, and she hated feeling helplessâmaybe even more than she hated relying on a man. âWhat am I going to do?â
âTalk to him again.â Jamie shrugged as if it were that easy.
âAre you saying you wonât sue him?â
âNo. Iâm saying people are too sue-happy these days when a simple conversation could save time, aggravation and money. Heâs ex-military. Surely heâs a rational, logical man.â
Abby sighed. âListen to yourself. Any self-respecting legal eagle would take this case and run with it for all the billable hours they could get. You, my friend, are going to starve.â
âI can afford to take off a few pounds.â
âYou are so lying. And youâre too thin. Youâre sure thereâs nothing you want to talk about?â
âNo. Except I know you donât really want to sue Riley Dixon. You just needed to let off steam.â
âBusted,â Abby said.
âAnd I suspect the name-calling did wonders for your anger abatement level.â
âYou think slacker, welsher, jerk and flake helped?â
âI do, indeed.â
Abby sighed. âYouâd be right. But donât let on to Kimmie. I always tell her to use peopleâs given names and Iâm fairly certain none of the above are on Fredâs birth certificate. Or Dixonâs, either, for that matter.â
âSheâll never hear it from me. But in that spirit, Iâd be happy to role-play with you for your next conversation with Riley Dixon.â
The thought of seeing him again sent quivers through Abby and she remembered the mayorâs comment on auction night about thrills and chills. His words were turning out to be annoyingly prophetic. She wondered if she might be better off if she waved the white flag and retreated.
Â
Riley Dixon watched the elevator doors close, then turned to his sister. âWe got the contract.â
Nora smiled. âTo put security systems in all the districtâs high schools?â
âYup. Starting with Charity City High.â
âCongratulations.â
âYeah.â
âSo youâre excited?â Nora asked, toying with the pen on her desk.
âOf course.â
âThen why do you look like someone let your favorite pistol rust in the rain?â
âI donât know.â He ran his fingers through his hair. âI guess itâs because we shouldnât need metal detectors and surveillance systems in high schools.â
âIt doesnât mean that all kids have gone over to the dark side,â she pointed out.
âI know.â
âYou canât take responsibility for whatâs wrong with the world today.â
âI know that, too. But it seems wrong to profit from it.â
She lifted her shoulders. âThe Board of Education budgeted for the security measures. And frankly, if theyâve decided itâs necessary, Iâll sleep better at night knowing theyâve hired the best company for the job. So will a lot of high school parents. Mostly the kids are good, normal kids. Youâve been hired to make sure theyâre safe from the occasional bad apple. The school district feels itâs money well spent. Why donât you?â
âThanks for trying to make me feel better.â
âYouâre welcome. In exchange, Iâd like to know why you practically threw Abby Walsh out of your office.â She tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear and met his gaze.
Riley knew his sister well, meaning she wasnât going to back off. âShe was here to make arrangementsfor the survival weekend I donated to the Charity City auction.â
âWow. That clears up any confusion,â she said sarcastically. âAnd here I thought sheâd done something really bad. Like having the audacity to look a lot like Barb Kelly.â
Riley winced. Abby Walsh was