for embezzlement. Couldn't handle the pressure. I had no idea he'd do something like that, though, I swear."
My lips pressed together. In all the commotion, I hadn’t seen him in the crowd, but obviously he had been there, and this dinner was about me possibly holding the firm accountable. I felt a weight in the pit of my stomach. I hadn't realized that I’d been hoping, just a tiny bit, that it might have been something else. I downed the rest of my Manhattan. Blane's eyes narrowed as he watched me.
Greg arrived with our food and I was grateful for the diversion, though my little bowl of soup looked pretty paltry next to the slab of beef he set before Blane. I looked longingly at his plate, then back at my soup which was a pretty light green. It reminded me of the color of Blane's eyes, which just made me cranky.
I picked up a spoon and dug in, hoping the bacon would make it taste better than it had sounded, and was pleasantly surprised. It was pretty good. I hadn't realized until I started eating how hungry I was since I had skipped lunch. I finished the soup too quickly. Probably not the most ladylike thing to do, wolfing down my food, but I knew this wasn't about Blane being interested in me so I didn't care.
When I finished, I realized Greg had brought me another Manhattan. I was still hungry, but the soup had taken the edge off. I took a deep swallow of my drink, eyeing Blane's steak as he ate.
Greg appeared again, taking my bowl. "Would you like anything else?" he asked me. I shook my head and Greg went away.
"Why did you come to Indianapolis?" Blane asked.
I didn't really want to talk more about personal stuff with Blane, but didn't want to be outwardly rude. I cleared my throat, buying some time. "Just needed a change," I finally said vaguely. No need for Blane to know my life history or how I'd wanted to be a lawyer someday. It would sound too much like "Gee, I wanna be like you when I grow up!"
"So how's the embezzlement guy?" I asked, taking another sip of my drink. Blane finished off his steak and pressed the snowy linen napkin to his mouth before answering.
"He's going to be all right," he finally said. "We'll press for a psychiatric evaluation once he's recovered."
"The insanity defense," I said. "A bit cliché, really." I might have been able to appreciate it more had I not been the target of choice to prove how crazy he was.
"Not something I would have encouraged him to do," Blane said carefully.
I decided to just get it out in the open. Playing games wasn't really my thing. I much preferred honesty.
"I'm not going to sue the firm," I said, letting him know I was on to him. The stress of the day and the alcohol was getting to me. He was right, this hadn't really been my typical day. I couldn't wait to get home, take a nice hot shower and climb into bed.
"I didn't think you were," he said, and I just looked at him, disbelief etched on my face. Did he think I was an idiot as well as a hick?
"C'mon," I said with an unladylike snort, "like I don't know what this is about."
He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. I felt a flutter in my stomach and nervously swallowed some more bourbon.
"I'm glad you're not going to sue the firm," he said quietly, "and we're grateful for your loyalty. We'd like to offer you compensation for what you had to endure today."
I blinked slowly. "Are you trying to pay me off?" I said bluntly.
"Of course not," he said. "It's what I just said. Compensation for hardship endured under our employment."
They were paying me off. "How much?" I asked, angry now. I thought I saw the slightest glint of disappointment in Blane's eyes. He leaned back in his chair.
"Five thousand," he said, watching me carefully. My eyes widened slightly. Holy crap. That was a lot of money.
"Five thousand?" I repeated, my voice squeaky.
"Or ten," he said with a shrug, "if you feel that would be more appropriate."
Ten thousand dollars. That would go a long way toward paying off the debt I was in
Margaret Weis;David Baldwin