Let's Make It Legal (3 page)

“So how did things go today?” Janet asked before John even got the door shut behind him.

“Do you want to hear the good part first or the bad part first?” John countered, grinning.

Janet clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, no. What happened that was bad?”

John removed his suit coat and loosened his tie. “Before I tell you about it, tell me why you never called Sydney Wells’s secretary to tell her I was coming instead of Jo Whipple.”

“I tried, John. But she was away from her desk the first time I called, and then she was on another line and I couldn’t wait because I had a call, and before I knew it, it was already nine o’clock, and I figured by then you would’ve gotten there and they’d know about the substitution, anyway.” Janet made a face. “Sorry. Did it make things uncomfortable for you?”

“You could say that.” John proceeded to tell her how Sydney’s secretary had thought he was Jo Whipple. “Before I could correct her, she’d already introduced me to her boss, and The Shark nearly bit my head off about being late. She said she had no time for excuses. She ticked me off,” he admitted, not proud of the way he’d allowed himself to lose his professionalism, “so I let her go on thinking I was Jo Whipple.”

“You
what?”
Janet exclaimed, eyes wide. “Oh, John. Why did you
do
that? What’s she going to think if she ever finds out? Somehow, I don’t think she’s the type who takes kindly to being deceived.”

John grimaced. He knew Janet was right. Although Sydney Wells had shown her vulnerable side to him today, she would be furious over his dishonesty, which would probably negate all of the positive feelings he knew they’d shared by the end of the day.

“Yeah, well, by the time I’d decided I shouldn’t have gone along with the misconception, no matter
what
she said to me, it was too late to correct it without making things even worse. But she’ll never find out.”

Janet’s forehead remained creased in a worried frown. “Aside from that, how did the day go?”

“The work was a piece of cake.”

“What about Sydney Wells? Is she as bad as everyone says she is?”

“I didn’t think she was so bad. She’s driven and aggressive—you know the type—a typical overachiever.”

“So you got along with her all right?”

“Yeah, I did. In fact, I found myself sympathizing with her at one point. I also have to admit, I ended up admiring her. She’s got guts.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. She crossed swords with a hotshot colleague. You know, one of those jerks you run into a lot in some of these firms. He tried to embarrass her in front of me. But she held her own. In fact, she got in some pretty good digs.”

“You almost sound as if you
liked
her,” Janet commented.

John smiled. “I did. She...she reminded me of Andrea.” He was immediately sorry he’d added the last bit of information, for his sister’s face slid into astonishment.

“Andrea! Oh, John, come on. From everything our temps have said, Sydney Scott Wells is
nothing
like Andrea.”

“They were wrong.” Even though John wished he’d kept his mouth shut, he felt a strange sense of loyalty to Sydney.

Janet gave him a look that said she didn’t believe
him
.

“I think I knew Andrea better than anyone else, Janet,” he reminded her.

“Yes... well...” But Janet didn’t look convinced. “What made you think she’s like Andrea? Does she look like her?”

“No. She’s blond and blue-eyed.” Andrea had been the stereotypical redhead—green-eyed and freckled. “But she’s tall like Andrea was. And she’s also sharp, very sharp. And smart.” Those were also characteristics of Andrea’s, as Janet very well knew.

“But Andrea was so friendly and so nice,” Janet said.

“Sure. Around you. But she had another side to her in her professional world. She had to. Nice, agreeable women don’t get very far in the legal business. Nice, agreeable women don’t get very far in
any
business. You should know that, Jan.”

“Well, why do you think our temps are so afraid of Sydney Wells if she’s as great as you seem to think she is?”

“Probably because she’s tough. She drives her secretary and everyone else relentlessly, including herself.” John chuckled. “She’s also short on tact at times.”

“She doesn’t sound like someone
I’d
like,” Janet said. “I’ll bet she’s hard-looking.”

“No,” John said, thinking how he’d felt Sydney was anything but hard-looking.

“Did you think she was attractive?”

John shrugged. Suddenly, he didn’t want to discuss Sydney Scott Wells any longer. “Yeah, I guess so.” He looked around. “Where are the kids?”

“Mom called and invited Emily to go shopping for her birthday, and Jeffrey’s over at Benjamin’s house.” John nodded. His six-year-old son and Benjamin Newberry were best friends, especially since Benjamin’s dad had built him a tree house.

“Mom said she and Emily would eat at the mall, so not to expect her home until about eight-thirty.” Janet stood. “I guess I’ll be going. Mike and I are going out for Chinese tonight. Do you and Jeffrey want to come with us? We’d love to have you.”

“Thanks, but I don’t think so. We’ve got some leftovers. We’ll manage.”

John liked his brother-in-law, Mike Cameron, but he wasn’t in the mood to go out to eat, even though he knew Jeffrey loved eating out. He’d take both kids out tomorrow night, instead.

“Oh, and Mom also invited all of us for Sunday dinner.”

“What, Cecelia Appleton is going to cook?” John grinned. “What’s the occasion?”

Their mother never cooked. She hated to cook. And since their father had died several years earlier, she had given up even the pretense of cooking. She’d once told John that she considered cooking in the same category as cleaning toilets.

Janet laughed. “I think she’s feeling guilty. Like she’s fallen down on the job of being a mother.”

“What time are we supposed to be there?”

“Two o’clock.” Janet picked up her purse. “John, what are we going to do if Sydney Wells ever finds out who you really are?”

John walked over and put his hands on his twin’s shoulders. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Let’s not borrow trouble, okay?” He turned her around and gave her a little push toward the door. “Now quit worrying, and go home. We’ll see you Sunday.”

* * *

“Well, Sydney, I wasn’t sure if you’d show up today.” Helena Wells’s dark blue eyes always seemed judgmental to Sydney. Always seemed to say her youngest daughter wasn’t measuring up. Again.

To cover the feelings of inadequacy and frustration prolonged exposure to her mother and sisters always produced, Sydney shrugged. “I always try to make Sunday dinner if I can.”

Her mother smiled. “I know. I’m glad you’re here. It’s too pretty a day to spend cooped up in the office.”

Sydney nodded. It
was
a gorgeous day—cool, with low humidity—the first really crisp fall day Houston had seen after a long, hot summer that had had even the hardiest natives complaining.

As Sydney followed her mother through the house and into the enormous family room that overlooked the pool and backyard, she saw that her three sisters and their families were already there, gathered around the television set watching the Texans game. As Sydney walked in, a loud cheer erupted as the Texans made a successful play.

Claire, her oldest sister at forty-two, smiled when she saw Sydney. She immediately got up from the couch and walked over, extending her arms for a hug. As they embraced, Sydney felt a swift rush of love. Besides their father, Claire was the only one in Sydney’s family she felt close to.

“We missed you last week,” Claire said as they drew apart.

Sydney smiled, then looked around at the rest of the family.

“Hey, Syd,” said Tom Stevens, Claire’s husband. He grinned up at her from his spot on the floor, his freckled face reflecting his good nature.

Sydney liked Tom. Who could help liking him? He was like a puppy—he lived to please—but sometimes she wondered how Claire, who was witty and intelligent, could stand being married to him. Sydney often wondered what the two of them talked about. Or didn’t people talk after they were married? She thought about her own parents, whose conversation seemed to consist of discussions about their children and what they would eat for dinner.

Eliza waved from the kitchen, and Sydney gave a little wave back. Sydney and Eliza couldn’t stand each other, but by unspoken agreement they pretended to be sisterly in front of their parents.

The two had absolutely nothing in common. Eliza, at thirty-nine, was the antithesis of Sydney. Sydney often thought that the only important thing in Eliza’s life was how she looked and what men thought of her.

As far as Sydney could tell, once Eliza was out of school, she’d never again opened a book, never thought about a social issue and never had any ambition except to be married to a rich man.

She had attained her goal. At twenty-six, she’d married Driscoll Worth, whose name lived up to its promise. He was worth millions, and when he and Eliza had divorced two years ago, Sydney’s sister had acquired several of those millions.

Eliza had custody of their daughter, Carolyn, who was ten. Sometimes Sydney worried about Carolyn, who had a curious mind and showed signs of a social conscience. It couldn’t be good for a child like her to live with a mother like Eliza.

Still, who was Sydney to judge? She didn’t have children.

Sydney looked around for her niece, but Carolyn wasn’t there today. Her gaze met that of her third sister, Wendy. Only two years separated the two, but like Sydney and Eliza, she and Wendy had nothing in common.

“Hi,” Wendy said from her seat in the recliner.

“Hi,” Sydney responded. “How’re you feeling?” Wendy was seven months pregnant with her fourth child.

“Okay.”

Sydney nodded. As always, she felt awkward talking to Wendy, who never offered anything to keep the conversational ball rolling. “Where are the kids?”

“They got bored with the game so Dad took them outside.”

Sydney had wondered where her father was. The two of them had always been very close. Sid Wells was a man’s man, and he had always wanted a son. When his fourth daughter was born, he’d taken one look and decided she would be the son he’d never had. So he’d insisted on naming her Sydney and he’d raised her to do all the things men do. As a result, Sydney felt confident in the competitive business arena and completely inadequate in the more feminine social sphere.

“Hey, Sydney, do you want something to drink?” asked Wendy’s husband, Craig, who stood at the bar.

“Some ginger ale?” Sydney walked over to the bentwood rocker in the corner and sat down. She eyed the TV set. She hated football.

Craig brought her the ginger ale she’d requested, and Sydney took a sip.

“Geez! Would you look at that?” moaned Tom. “Three missed tackles!” He made a gesture of disgust. “Why do I watch football, anyway?”

“Because it’s so much
fun,
” Craig said sarcastically.

“Because hope springs eternal,” Eliza said.

Because men love games, Sydney thought.

Just then, the back door opened, and Wendy’s three, ranging in age from nine to two, erupted into the room, followed more slowly by Sydney’s father. He saw her immediately and his face lit up. She got up and walked over to him. They hugged.

“How’s the case coming?” he asked as he released her. “You ready for tomorrow?”

“Almost. I’m going back to the office after dinner to look everything over one last time.”

“Not much will happen tomorrow,” her father predicted. “Just the voir dire.” Sid Wells had had his own successful law practice before he’d retired two years earlier. He had once told Sydney that the day she decided to become a lawyer was the proudest day of his life.

“I know,” Sydney said, “but I want to be sure I haven’t overlooked anything.”

“You haven’t. My girl is always prepared. You’re going to set this town on its ear when you win that case. You mark my words.”

Sydney smiled weakly. She knew her father loved her, but sometimes the weight of his pride and expectations was suffocating. As soon as the disloyal thought formed, she pushed it away.

What did she want him to do? Act as if he doubted her abilities? Of course not. Of course he was proud of her. Of course he expected great things of her. And she wouldn’t let him down.

During dinner, the talk once more turned to Sydney’s case. This time Claire said, “I’m thinking of coming down to watch the trial, Sydney, but it’ll probably be a zoo, won’t it?”

Sydney nodded, pleased that her sister cared enough to want to be there. “Unfortunately, I’m afraid so.” With the publicity this case had generated, she knew the media would be out in full force, as would the curious.

“That’s okay,” Claire said. “I’ll come, anyway.”

“Don’t say
unfortunately,”
her father boomed from his end of the table. “You want all the publicity you can get, Sydney. This case is going to make your name a household word.”

“I’m not sure I want to be a household word,” Sydney said.

“Oh, sure you do,” Craig interjected. “Why else do you take on these cases? They sure don’t bring your firm any money.”

Sydney gave him a sharp look. Was that a bit of a snide taunt she heard in his tone? Wendy’s husband was a lawyer, too. But his area of expertise was patent law, an area Sydney considered dull. Sydney had often wondered if he was jealous of her high-profile cases. “I take them on because I believe in these cases,” she said quietly. “Making a lot of money has never been important to me.”

“She doesn’t need to worry about money,” Sid Wells said. “Not now. Not when she’s building her reputation.” He beamed at Sydney. “She’s smart. She’s taking her time. She knows what’s important in the long run.”

Craig’s face reddened. “Some of us don’t have that luxury. Some of us have three, almost four kids to raise—”

“Who wants dessert?” Sydney’s mother, always the peacemaker, interjected smoothly. “It’s pineapple upside-down cake.”

“My favorite,” said Tom, who always moved in to reinforce his mother-in-law’s efforts when it came to avoiding any kind of scene. He patted his stomach expectantly.