Private Lives

He turned then to look at her. The power of that look was so explosive that it was nearly palpable in the car. “You’re not going to get away with this, Gina.” His voice was soft and deadly, so threatening that she felt a cold chill. He waited a few moments—for her, harrowing moments—then when she remained stonily silent, he started the Porsche and pulled out of the parking lot. She braced for a wild and reckless ride, but he drove the scant mile to Liz’s house at a moderate pace. It was so out of character that she was more unnerved than she would have been had he reverted to habit. Still, she sat with her arms wrapped around herself and her teeth clamped to keep them from chattering. Then, finally, Liz’s street. And escape. She was out of the car and hurrying away almost before he stopped. Once safely at Liz’s front door, she stole a wary glance back and saw that he was out and watching her from over the top of the Porsche. Just…watching.

If looks could kill.

Shivering, she slipped inside and quickly closed the door behind her.

Curtiss Leggett sat in the library of his splendid home in River Oaks waiting for Austin. He’d left messages on his son’s cell phone, his home phone and the pager he carried. No matter what the hour, he told Austin, he would expect to see him.

Women, the disgruntled lawyer thought, swirling the best brandy money could buy in a Baccarat snifter. How his life would have been eased without the complication of women, his ex-wife, his many mistresses, his daughter, now married to some itinerant artist out in some godforsaken corner of California. Even his mother, and he didn’t give a damn whether her soul rested peacefully or not. What a domineering tyrant she’d been. An occasional display of masculinity from his father would have shown her who was boss, but his father had buried himself in his professorial work and never noticed or cared about anything else. Including Curtiss.

That was not the way Curtiss Leggett had run his life.

At the sound of a key in the lock, he stirred in the deep leather chair, but didn’t get to his feet. He wouldn’t bother. As spineless as Austin was, the lecture and subsequent threat could be delivered as effectively in the comfort of his chair as otherwise. Thirty-six years old and Curtiss still had to wipe his ass for him. His son was a great disappointment to him. His daughter, Julia, should have been his heir. She was full of defiance, possibly as bright as Curtiss himself. Focused. An independent thinker. As God was his witness, he couldn’t see any strength in Austin.

Not the kind of strength evident in Ryan Paxton. Now, there was a real man, Texas born and bred, tough as nails, smart as a whip. Steel in his backbone, too. Leggett sighed, bringing the snifter up to his mouth. And look at his old man. Killed himself. No steel there. A weakling. Genes were odd things.

He heard the door open. Then close. “In here, boy!” he called, finishing off the brandy.

“How are you, Dad?” Austin entered the library, his smile wary, eyes cautious. He scanned the room, saw that his father was alone. “Sorry I couldn’t make it over until now, but I had an appointment that couldn’t be rescheduled.” He watched Curtiss set the snifter on the table at his elbow and then walked over to the sideboard to pour himself a brandy.

“Hold up there. You can drink after I’ve had my say.”

Austin put the glass back and slowly turned to face his father. “Is something wrong?”

“Wrong? Is something wrong, you ask?” Curtiss had planned to stay in his chair, but found he had to get up or, swear to God, he’d blow a gasket. “I don’t want to think you’re as stupid as it appears, Austin, but what I learned today makes me wonder.” He shot a beetle-browed look at his first born. “You finally had the balls to dump the trailer trash slut you’ve been shacked up with for more years than I want to think about, but now instead of a clean break, you get yourself called before Judge Hetherington and he hears that you’ve been knocking her around. Have I got it right, Austin?”

“She’s lying.”

“Ryan Paxton doesn’t think so.”

“You’ve seen Ryan? He’s talked to you about this?” Austin slammed a hand down on the sideboard. “Goddamn it! That’s a breach of client-attorney privilege. Did he come around whining to you about the judgment?”

“He came to bring me a report of the hearing because I asked for it.”

Austin made a dismissive sound. “Well, he sure isn’t the legal eagle you think he is, Dad. I could have represented myself and come out of this looking better.”

Curtiss Leggett simply stood looking at his son for a beat or two before turning in disgust. He stared at the dead ashes in his fireplace for another long moment before turning to face Austin. “I want the truth and I want it plain and simple. Don’t lie to me, I warn you. Have you been knocking that bitch around?”

“What kind of question is—”

“Did you hear me?” It was a roar and it stopped Austin in his tracks and killed whatever defense he might have attempted. Another moment passed while Curtiss calmed himself. “Have you been slapping her around?” he repeated, speaking each word precisely.

Austin cleared his throat, looked anywhere but into the knowing eyes of his father. “We have disagreements like most couples.”

“And you express yourself with your fists?”

“Do I hear outrage, Dad?” Austin’s tone was suddenly less subservient. When Curtiss didn’t reply, Austin was emboldened. “I didn’t think so.”

“Watch yourself, Austin.”

“Yeah, it’s me we’re talking about now, not you, eh, Dad?” Austin reached for a glass in defiance of his old man and recklessly poured brandy in it. Then eyeball to eyeball with Curtiss, he tossed most of it back in one gulp. “I don’t know why you’d be shocked,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “It couldn’t come as a shock to you, a man handling a troublesome woman with a little show of force. I sure didn’t act shocked when you did it. I guess I thought everybody’s mom wore sunglasses in the house as a regular thing, night or day. Until I wised up.”

“I’m not shocked that you did it, Austin,” Curtiss said in disgust, not bothering to deny what was fact. Hell, it was years ago and Marilyn was long gone. Good riddance, too. “I’m pissed because you’ve brought it out like so much dirty family linen. You’re a reckless fool and I just hope to God Paxton can pluck your sorry ass out of the fire.”

“Speaking of asses, I fired his today.” He looked defiantly at Curtiss.

“You what?”

“I’m out four thousand bucks a month because of his incompetence,” Austin said, letting his fury loose. “So I fired him. I’ll work out something less with Gina, just the two of us, no lawyers. You’ll see.”

For a full minute, Curtiss just stared at him. “Austin, I’m only going to tell you this one time. And you better hear me good. Call Ryan Paxton ASAP, or better yet, go see him in person. Now. Tonight. Do whatever it takes to get him back on board in this miserable mess you’ve created. But don’t let the sun rise tomorrow without being able to tell me that he is still representing you. Now—” his tone went lower, more menacing “—do you read me?”

For a long moment, Austin seemed tempted to defy the order. But the moment passed. “Yes, sir,” he said, the response weak, but the look in his eyes was anything but. He finished off the brandy, set the snifter down with a thump and walked out.

As soon as she heard the car door, Elizabeth set her book aside and rose from the chair in the den. She’d been on edge the whole evening, reading with one ear cocked to listen for Austin’s Porsche. The hours had dragged by. It was crazy for Gina to be alone with him, especially tonight when his temper would be on a hair-trigger. Did she forget how dangerous Austin could be when thwarted? He was clearly enraged that she’d dared to air the facts of their relationship in a court of law. He’d made no secret of that from the moment he was served with the papers. And he would be furious with the judge’s ruling today, more so because, in his arrogance, he’d believed that he would prevail. Parting the blinds, she saw the Porsche pull away from the curb and felt deeply relieved that Gina was now home safe.

That idea died with her first glimpse of Gina’s face in the dimly lit foyer. She stood with her eyes closed, back against the door. By the look of her, breathing heavy with arms clamped around herself, she must have run from the car. Alarmed, Elizabeth reached for the light switch. “What happened?”

Gina turned her head slowly and looked at her without speaking. Overhead light caught the glint of unshed tears in her eyes. Elizabeth’s gaze narrowed at the sight of Gina’s face. With a shocked sound, she moved closer and touched Gina’s face, turning it gently to get a better look. Brutal marks on either side of her jaw clearly showed the imprint of fingers. They’d be purple bruises by morning. “My God, Gina, did he do this?”

Gina, still shaky and pale, glanced at herself in the mirror above the table. She lifted her hand and touched her face. “Don’t freak, Liz. He didn’t hit me. He just—I just refused to go along with what he wanted and he—”

“He retaliated by manhandling you, reminding you who was boss, right?” Angrily, Elizabeth tilted Gina’s face this way and that, examining the marks thoroughly. “He may not have actually punched you, but he left fingerprints. Wait’ll you see yourself tomorrow.” She turned away, shaking her head. “He’s an animal, Gee. It takes brute force to mark someone like that.”

“I shouldn’t have argued with him. It was really dumb of me, but I just got fed up.”

“Why not get fed up before you agreed to spend the day with him? Why did you do it, Gee? What were you thinking?”

“Actually, it wasn’t so bad…at least not at first,” she added under her breath. “He was trying to—to make a point. I honestly don’t think he realizes his own strength.”

“Gina, Gina, Gina…do you realize how screwed up that sounds? He knows his own strength, you can count on that. He uses it often enough. But no matter what his intent, you shouldn’t wind up bruised and hurting.”

“I know how to handle him, Liz. If I’d pretended to go along with him, he would have let it go. He lost it when I told him I was going to do what the judge instructed.”

She pushed her hair back from her face wearily. “Can we talk about this tomorrow, Liz? I’m beat.”

Liz’s gaze narrowed. She moved closer and saw another mark on Gina’s neck, one that didn’t look like a bruise. “What’s this?”

Gina put her hand up quickly, covering the mark. “It’s…nothing.”

Liz then stepped back. In her concern about Gina’s face, she hadn’t really taken in the disheveled look of her. Now she saw that the tail of her blouse was untucked in places. Two of the buttons were undone. Her skirt wasn’t quite straight and her hair was a mess. “No, Gina.” Disbelief flickered across Liz’s face. “Tell me you didn’t have sex with him.”

Turning away, Gina waved a mute hand and headed for the stairs.

“Gina…aaa…ah…” Liz played out the name with disapproval.

Gina stopped. “I don’t need a lecture, Liz. I know I’ve been a bad girl. Worse, I’ve been an idiot. In fact, I probably deserved what just happened,” she said bitterly. Then, with a foot on the first tread, she turned slowly to face Liz. “I know you don’t understand. Even if you were in dire straits, you would somehow find the strength to do the right thing. The smart thing. It’s like you always control your emotions while my emotions control me. I’m weak when it comes to Austin, Liz. It’s like a sickness. Honest to God, that’s the only way I can describe what happens when he…when we…are—” she spread her hands helplessly “—together.”

It hurt for Liz to hear herself portrayed as being bloodless. It was so completely wrong that she wanted to grab Gina and scream that she had loved with a passion so consuming that everything else in her life paled to nothingness. Had Gina forgotten that dark year of her life? Liz wished to God that she could bury the memory.