Sheryl Lister - Places In My Heart

Morgan held up the bag. “So, um...thanks for the food. I’ll call you on Sunday to set up another time for us to talk.”

Omar nodded. “You’re welcome.” They stood there for several charged seconds before she slid in behind the wheel. “See you later.” He closed the door quickly to keep from pulling her out and into his arms. He shook his head as her taillights disappeared. There’s no way I’m going to make it for the next month and a half without kissing her.

Chapter 4

The next Monday morning, Morgan checked and double-checked to make sure she had all the files needed for her meeting with the Sandersons’ attorney. Brandon, her father and Mr. Whitcomb, her father’s best friend and a minor partner in the company, would be joining them. Mr. Whitcomb—whom they affectionately called Uncle Thad—and Morgan’s father had served together in the military, where Mr. Whitcomb sustained a serious injury. Disappointed by the lack of services for his disabled friend, her dad and started designing accessibility products in their home garage. Now their in-home safety company was one of the largest in the country.

Walking to the outer office, she stopped at her assistant’s desk. “Evelyn, can you make sure the coffee and tea is set up in the small conference room, please?”

Evelyn came to her feet in a huff. “Yes, Ms. Gray,” she said with a sarcastic smile.

Morgan silently counted to ten. Something had to give with this woman, and soon.

Brandon was already in the conference room when she arrived. “Hey, big brother.”

“Hey. Ready?”

“Yep. I just hope Mr. Porter keeps his smart-aleck comments to himself this time.” Several minutes later, she went over to the table where Evelyn had set up the coffee service and made a cup of mint tea. Whenever she felt nervous or stressed, the tea always calmed her.

“Well, I’m sure with Dad, Uncle Thad and me here, he won’t try it today.”

“It shouldn’t have to be this way in the first place.”

“True, but you already knew the kind of opposition you’d face when you decided to become an attorney.”

Before Morgan could reply, her father and Uncle Thad entered the conference room. “Morning, Dad, Uncle Thad.”

“Morning, baby,” her father said.

Uncle Thad rolled his wheelchair over to where Morgan sat and smiled. “Good morning, Morgan.”

Moments later, Mr. Porter was escorted in by one of the assistants. The fifty-something-year-old attorney had a slight build, a few gray strands peppering his short, dark brown hair and still wore that self-righteous smile.

“Good morning, Mr. Porter,” Morgan said and made introductions. “You’ve met Brandon already. There are coffee and tea on the table if you’d like to pour yourself a cup before we get started.” She gestured to the table. Obviously the man hadn’t expected her show of authority, if his expression was any indication. She smiled inwardly.

Mr. Porter got coffee and came back to the table. “Good to see you here this morning, Mr. Gray. I’m certain we’ll be able to make some real progress this time.”

Brandon slanted Morgan a look that said, Is this guy for real?

“As I told Ms. Gray at our initial meeting, and I’m sure you all will agree, it would be in the best interest of your company if we settled this matter out of court. I don’t have to remind you of the injuries my client suffered and the long-term care she’ll require. The stress is wearing on the Sandersons, and they’re anxious to have this settled.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Porter, we will make a decision once we review all the evidence,” Morgan said. “I’ve left messages at your office three times requesting the defective shower rail and packaging and have yet to receive a return call. Since you’re here, we can schedule a time right now. I’m free next Wednesday at nine or Friday at eleven, or the following Tuesday at three. These are also the available dates provided by the third-party company you suggested. I took the liberty of hiring them in anticipation of our meeting today. Which one works best for you?” She pulled up the calendar on her iPad. “Either of those dates works for me.” Morgan glanced at Brandon.

“Works for me.”

Both her father and uncle nodded their agreement.

Morgan shifted her attention back to the lawyer. “Mr. Porter?” She smiled. “You mentioned that your clients are anxious to have the matter settled, and we agree.”

“Well, I... I need to check with my secretary first.” He looked downright uncomfortable.

“By all means.” She rose and slid the telephone in front of him. “We can wait.”

Mr. Porter reluctantly picked up the receiver and made the call. “Wednesday at nine,” he muttered after hanging up.

“Great. Once we inspect the rail and run some tests—”

Mr. Porter leaned forward. “Tests?”

“Yes. Your clients claim that the rail broke. We want to know why, as I’m sure you do.”

“Ah, yes, yes. Well, if there’s nothing else, I have another meeting. I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

“Dad, do you have anything you want to add?”

“No. I think you’ve covered everything. Thad?”

“I’m satisfied.”

“As am I,” Brandon said.

“Then we’re adjourned,” Morgan said, rising to her feet. She walked around the table and extended her hand. “Thank you for coming, Mr. Porter. I look forward to seeing you next Wednesday.”

He stood and gave her hand a brief shake, then gathered up his papers and made a hasty exit.

Morgan closed the door behind him and turned back to the table. “Well?”

“I’m proud of the way you handled yourself, baby girl,” her father said. “Excellent job. I think Mr. Porter will think twice before he underestimates you again.”

Uncle Thad chuckled. “Nolan, I think you’re right.”

“Thanks,” she said. After the two men left, she turned to Brandon. “I expected you to say more.”

“I didn’t need to. I enjoyed that little show. Girl, you grilled him with a smile. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks. The way he’s trying to rush this through makes me think something isn’t right with their story.”

“I was thinking the same thing.” Brandon pushed to his feet. “But I know you’ll get to the bottom of it. Been meaning to ask how you like working for the company.”

Morgan shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m just not sure this is where I want to work long-term.”

“But you’re good at it. You’re not still thinking about that whole sports agent thing, are you? If you are, you might want to get a few years of legal experience first.”

She didn’t comment. No way would she tell him about Omar or the fact that she’d taken and passed the certification test to become an agent earlier in the year.

“Look, I know you love football, and I’m not saying you couldn’t make it as a sports agent. I just don’t see a lot of male athletes taking you seriously, and I don’t want you to get your feelings hurt.”

“Well, we’ll just wait and see. Right now I’m concentrating on this case. See you around.” She gathered up her folders and walked out.

Later, Morgan sat at her desk checking Omar’s stats and salary from the previous year. As a tight end, his salary cap was much lower than that of a wide receiver. But when one of the receivers was injured last season, Omar had stepped in and played the position so well, that he’d earned the nickname End Zone Drummond. His numbers were second only to those of the team’s star receiver, Marcus Dupree. Colin Rush was still questionable for the first half of the upcoming season, which would leave the team weak on the left side. She smiled. She’d just found her negotiating point.