Love at First Flight by Marie Force Page B

the room, and get dressed. Tossing the last of her belongings into
her bag, her hand brushed against the ivory silk nightgown she bought just last
week with Jeremy in mind. An intense ache streaked through her when she
imagined him with the faceless Sherrie. Had he acted yet on his newfound
freedom?
    Juliana sat on the bed to catch her
breath and fought the urge to call him. Was it too much to want to hear his
voice like she had every morning for so long? “You will not call him.”
Determined, she stood up, zipped her bag, and went downstairs. In the kitchen
she looked for some paper to leave a note for Michael and instead found one
from him sitting next to a key on the counter.
    “Good morning! I made coffee for you.
All you have to do is press start on the coffeemaker. There's cereal in the
cabinet over the stove, otherwise it's slim pickings. Here's a key for the
front door. Make yourself at home. Feel free to use the roof deck and anything
else you want or need. I should be home by eight, and we can deal with your car
then. Call my cell phone if you need anything (the number is on the card I gave
you). Have a good day! M”
    Juliana read it again. He was such a
nice guy, and it made her mad all over again to imagine his fiancee hitting
him. He didn't deserve that. What he did deserve was a friend. Standing there with his note in her hand, she thought of
some things she could do to help him out while he was working crazy hours.
Since she couldn't pay him much rent, she could do the grocery shopping,
cooking, and laundry. Maybe this would work out well for both of them. He'd
give her a place to hide out for a while, and she would make his life easier
during the trial. She put the key in her pocket and hit “start” on the
coffeemaker.

    ***

    Michael's day began at seven in a
meeting with the jury consultants they'd hired to help them empanel the twelve
citizens most likely to convict the Benedettis. They pored over demographic
reports, census information, and a PowerPoint presentation that outlined the
consultants' idea of the perfect jury.
    We
'll never get it ,
Michael thought.
    The defense had an ideal jury of its
own, and he could guarantee it looked nothing like the one on the screen. In
one week, the battle would begin. If they were lucky, they would get half the
ideal citizens the consultants identified.
    With the meeting heading into a fourth
hour, Michael excused himself and left it in the capable hands of his second
chair, George Samuels.
    Michael had just returned to his office
when Tom Houlihan knocked on the door. The picture of an up-and-coming
politician, Tom had close-cropped blond hair, blue eyes, and a boyish face that
made him look much younger than his fifty years. Michael respected the hell out
of the guy and didn't like the expression on Tom's face as he closed the door.
    “What's up?” Michael leaned back in his
desk chair and gestured for his boss to take a seat.
    “I heard you had quite a weekend.”
    “He didn't waste any time,” Michael said
through gritted teeth.
    “He's upset. His daughter's upset. His
wife's upset.” Michael hated having this conversation with his boss, of all
people.
    Tom put both hands on Michael's desk. “Here's
the deal, Michael. Your personal life is none of my business, and I told the
Admiral the same thing. What is my business is the trial you're starting one
week from today. You've just broken up with your fiancee, and I wouldn't be
doing my job if I didn't ask whether your head's in the game the way it needs
to be right now.”
    Michael didn't blink when he replied. “It
is. The trial is all I'm thinking about. You don't need to give it another
thought.”
    Tom studied him for a long moment before
he said, “Good. You know my door's always open if there's anything I can do for
you in the next few weeks.”
    “Thanks, Tom.”
    “Oh, just one other thing. I saw the
report this morning from Rachelle's detail. You had someone with you last night
who wasn't