Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 95421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“Was…that the reason you weren’t interested in hiring me?”
Our eyes met. I could see the wheels in his head spinning. Eventually he hung his head and looked down. “Not completely. It did give me pause that day, but I’ve thought about it a lot the last week—more than I should’ve—and it’s not the main reason.”
“What is the main reason then?”
“You want the truth?”
“No, definitely not. I really enjoy being lied to. It’s why I loved working as a lawyer.”
Dawson stayed quiet for a long moment before lifting his gaze to mine. “I think you’re really beautiful.”
I blinked. That was the last thing I’d expected him to say. “So…you only work with ugly women?”
“Honestly, I’d prefer that. But no, I’ve worked with beautiful women before. And it hasn’t ended well for me.”
“You mean like Emily?”
He nodded. “Sadly, she’s not the first time I did something stupid like that.”
“Did you sleep with your receptionist, too?” I teased. “Ben mentioned something about her being in her sixties with a nasally voice?”
Dawson smirked. “Wiseass. She’s not my type. I have a thing for blondes.”
I didn’t bother to point out that Emily was a brunette. “Can we back up a minute? Let me see if I have this straight. You think I’m beautiful, and ergo, that means if I were to work in your office, I would wind up sleeping with you and wanting to have your babies?”
“It almost happened already.”
“You mean after the wedding, in the cabin?”
He nodded.
“I was drunk, and we were at a wedding. Romance was in the air. Unlike you, I think I can control myself at work.”
Dawson raised a brow. “You sure about that?”
My stomach sank. “Ben told you?”
Dawson shook his head. “Anytime I ask anything about you, he tells me it’s your story to tell.”
“Ben is such a loyal guy.” I smiled sadly. “How do you know then?”
“I was curious after you left, so I googled you. It said you pleaded no contest to assaulting someone you’d prosecuted. After that I figured Ben was right, and it was your story to tell.” Dawson sipped his beer. “I’d like to hear it, if you’re up for sharing…”
“It’s not a pleasant story. Nothing about Darius Flint is pleasant.”
“I can handle it. I deal with horrible all day, every day.”
I sighed. “A nurse at an independent living facility for developmentally disabled young adults reported that she suspected a sixteen-year-old was being abused by her uncle.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Yeah. It was a heartbreaking case. Lizzie was born at six-and-a-half months to an alcoholic mom. The mother contracted rubella while she was pregnant, and the infection spread to the baby, causing some severe physical and mental issues. Lizzie’s mother died of liver failure when she was less than a year old. The only person who ever visited her was her uncle. He was her legal guardian, and the state had physical custody. It was a difficult case because Lizzie couldn’t speak. But when I interviewed her, she was able to point to the places her uncle had touched her.”
“Why didn’t the jury convict?”
“Because the piece of shit was not only a pedophile and rapist, he was smart. Unfortunately, smarter than I realized. Lizzie loved routine and was really good at memorizing dances and stuff that she saw on YouTube. Unbeknownst to anyone, her uncle had taught her the ‘Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes’ song, except he had her point to all the places he’d touched her. So after I got through having Lizzie show the jury all the places her uncle had abused her, the defense pulled out a boom box and blasted that song. Lizzie immediately started pointing to the same places while she smiled and danced.”
“Holy shit.”
I nodded. “It completely invalidated that Lizzie was reliable to testify. Couple that with having a judge who wouldn’t let me bring in two prior accusations of child molestation that were never prosecuted—one from a nine-year-old niece and the other from a teen neighbor. He thought it would be too prejudicial. And our physical evidence was thrown out because of a technicality on the search. So the jury just didn’t see the same picture we all did.”
“That’s awful.”
“We had her body fluids on the sleeve of his shirt. There’s no way he didn’t do it.”
“So how did you get into it with him?”
“I kept visiting Lizzie after the trial was over. I’m describing all these developmental issues, but she still understood so much. And she loved having visitors. She would light up. I really enjoyed my time with her. We learned some TikTok dances together.” I smiled, thinking of how she would laugh when I played back whatever we’d recorded. “Anyway, long story short, a few months after the trial was over, I went to visit her one day, and one of the nurses told me Lizzie was leaving. Her uncle had decided to take her out of the assisted-living facility she’d spent her entire life in and take her home with him.”