“Yes, I’ve…uh…seen it.”
“You made quite a splash at the rally.”
Dee’s belly twitched harder when the perennial smile dimmed on Barry’s face. “I-I didn’t realize events would take the turn they did.”
“Rallies are dangerous,” he said, giving her a level stare. “If you’d asked me about it ahead of time, I would have advised you not to go.”
“I’m sorry, Barry. I should have checked with you first, and don’t worry. One was more than enough for me.”
“Glad to hear it. We want to keep you in one piece.” He picked up the paper. “Turns out your temporary fame has given us a little publicity.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “It appears as though you were ready to die for the cause and, somehow, inspired the Confederate ringleader to save you.”
“It does look pretty dramatic,” she admitted. And sexy, but she wasn’t about to share that with her boss.
“Hell, you’re a black Joan of Arc.”
They both chuckled as Barry folded the paper. “You don’t have a personal relationship with that man, do you?”
“What? No! I didn’t even know him.” She started to say she didn’t listen to his music, but she didn’t want to lie.
“Good, because that would be a different matter altogether.” He tossed the paper to the table behind him, as if dismissing the issue. “Our firm thrives on PR. As par—employees, we have a certain image to uphold.”
Had he been about to say partner? The idea practically made her salivate down the front of her beige silk business blouse. She’d be able to take care of her parents in their golden years. Get them some electricity and a car, for God’s sake.
She got the message. The firm’s partners were married with families and lived perfect lives. They had the right friends and attended the right charity events. None of them dated racists.
For the first time since the rally, she was glad Rodney hadn’t called. He probably had his image to uphold, too.
So, why had they met at all? Ma said everything happened for a reason. For example, if her stepfather hadn’t made her life miserable, she never would have left home and stumbled over Jeremy playing guitar on the sidewalk.
“Let’s dig in,” Barry said, sliding the first folder off the stack.
She pulled a pen and a legal pad from her briefcase. “Let’s.”
Hopefully, being busy would let her forget a certain white man.
They’d gotten through only two case files when her cell phone rang. Why now?
“I have to take this,” she said, pulling the phone from her purse. “It might be the doctor’s office.”
Barry waved a hand. “Go ahead. I’ll wait.”
“Dee?”
The Southern accent sent hot syrup coursing through her body. It didn’t sound like the doctor…
“Hey, girl. It’s Rodney.”
Her hands went numb. Had he known they’d been discussing him?
“I-I’ll just be a minute,” she told Barry before slipping out of the room.
“Rodney Walker of Breeze?”
He laughed, the sound deep and heartfelt. “How many Rodneys do you know?”
Her stomach did somersaults as she slipped into an empty meeting room. The last thing she needed was a well-wisher to welcome her back in the middle of the conversation. Or, worse, figure out who she was talking to and tell her boss.
“Only you. I didn’t think you’d call.”
She winced as soon as she said it. It made her sound like a desperate fan. Wind and motorized sounds filled the background.
“Are you at an airport?” she guessed.
“Yeah, just flew into Memphis.” The sound of his indrawn breath filled her ear, making her feel as if he stood right next to her. “Dee, I’m sorry it took me so long to call. I started to so many times. I barely have time to sleep with all the touring.”
She had a feeling there was more to it than that but didn’t want to pry. Instead, she had to fight the sweet chills racing to her toes before she could speak.
“After what you’ve already done for me, you don’t owe me anything.”
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Not fully healed but getting there. I returned to work today.”
And Barry was waiting for her to end the call so they could go through the rest of her caseload. Keeping the busy man waiting would not help her make partner.
“Great! Rhonda told me you’re an attorney.”
“Yes, I’m a civil rights attorney,” she replied.
“Oh.” The one word broadcast more colors than a kaleidoscope—surprise, admiration, and dismay.
What now? Her pulse thundered. Half of her wanted to rush back into Barry’s office, but the other half didn’t want to let Rodney go. Because this was probably the first and last phone conversation they’d ever have.
“We’re in the papers,” she blurted out. “Did you see?”
“Yeah, I saw,” he said quietly. “It was…something.”
“Thanks again for rescuing me,” she said. “I probably would have been trampled, or worse, if you hadn’t.”
“Dee, I need to see you.”
She gripped the phone, wondering if she’d heard right. “For what, exactly?”
He sounded so serious, the attorney in her suspected the worst. Had what happened at the rally made her liable for anything? Maybe her blood had damaged his clothes, or maybe he wanted to make sure she didn’t have any bloodborne diseases.
“For a date. Where do you live?”
“Washington, D.C.”
“Hey, we’re doing a concert in Baltimore, Maryland, next week. Our nights are pretty late, but maybe we can have breakfast or—”
“Sounds fine,” she blurted out.
Breakfast wasn’t a real date. Of course, she couldn’t be seen with him. It would affect her job. Her panties warmed up when she pictured him at her place, eating in her kitchen. An image of them in bed danced through her mind, reminding her she had no love life.
“Who is that?” a rude male voice interjected. “Get off the phone. We’ve got to go.”
“I’ll call you again to set it up,” Rodney said before the line went dead.
She wiped her damp hand on her skirt. A date. She’d just agreed to a date with the most publicly Confederate man in the country. And probably blown her career to shreds.
Remembering Barry, she rushed to his office. When she walked
