As Daniel and I walked out of my townhome on our way to a romantic dinner, I looked down at my cell phone and saw the message from Father Michael. I read the message because I did not want Daniel to hear it.
“Gabriela, this is Father Michael. Emma Riley needs your help. Her seventeen-year-old daughter may have shot and killed a prominent Dallas businessman. Emma wants you to be her daughter’s lawyer. I will fill you in further after nine-thirty Mass tomorrow.”
By the fall and early winter of 2019, I had tried two high profile cases I had to win to advance my career and reputation.
I had dealt with the stress seven days a week and twenty four hours a day. I welcomed a break after those two exhausting trials, and I was determined not to accept any more high-profile cases. I had planned to begin 2020 by taking it easy and working on my health and fitness.
Thirty minutes later Daniel and I arrived at The Mansion at Turtle Creek. Soon after we were seated, I saw Christopher Duval approaching our table. I froze as Christopher greeted Daniel, leaned down, kissed my cheek, and touched my bare back.
I wiped my cheek and shifted my chair closer to the table to get away from Christopher’s hand.
“No need to introduce the two of you,” Daniel said sarcastically. “I’m sure you got to know each other when Gabriela defended Sparks.”
“Yes. Sparks will forever be grateful. Gabriela saved him from a jury conviction when she saw how the Assistant U.S. Attorney was using social media tricks to manipulate the jury. None of the high-powered consultants Sparks hired put those pieces together.”
That was one of the nicer things Christopher had ever said to me. When I was young, I discovered I could see patterns in things others missed. I thought it was a gift at the time and then I later learned that with the gift came a weakness: I was impatient, and I hated details.
Thankfully, I knew of the weakness when I started trying cases and my father had been my co- counsel for that reason.
I had not had a good experience with Christopher. When I defended his billionaire father, Christopher had been married, but that had not stopped him from setting me up on a trip to Houston during the Oil and Gas Conference. He invited me to join his father and him for dinner at a well-known Houston restaurant. When I arrived, he was alone and planning on spending the night with me. I spent the evening telling him no in every way I could.
Christopher was a seduction artist. He did it by making lingering eye contact. I figured he had come to the Mansion to make a play for one or more of the single women seated at the bar.
He was so full of himself that he either couldn’t figure out that Daniel and I wanted to be alone, or he didn’t care. He pulled a chair away from another table and sat at ours. “Gabriela, you look stunning as always,” Christopher said. “You’re dressed to the nines as always. Gorgeous.”
I raised my left eyebrow, hoping Christopher would see my disapproval and leave us alone. He missed my signal and continued. “Daniel, you’re quite the lucky one to be dining with one of the most beautiful women in Dallas.”
I shook my head and Daniel sighed. “You haven’t changed since we were in high school,” he said.
“I’m just being honest.” The waiter slid past him to deliver drinks to Daniel and me. “I’m just being honest.” The waiter slid past him to deliver drinks to Daniel and me.
“Did you hear? Henry Esposito was shot and killed?”
“What?” Daniel asked.
“They say two teenage girls robbed him, killed him, and then stole his BMW.” “Two teenage girls robbed and killed Henry. How did they get into his apartment?” Daniel asked. “Good question.”
Christopher glanced over at Daniel. He and Daniel clearly knew more than they were letting on. Damn. Now I knew why I received the voicemail from Father Michael. I also remembered that Daniel had introduced me to Esposito at a law firm picnic during the summer.
I had caught him staring at me like I was going to be his next lay. I was already thinking of reasons I could tell Father Michael to persuade him and Emma Riley to find another lawyer to represent the teenage girl. Yet, I wanted to defend the girl to Daniel and Christopher. “I bet he was abusing the girls,” I said. “And that they didn’t just show up to kill him and take his car. In Texas, there is a defense when a person makes unwanted sexual advances.” Christopher looked at Daniel with a fake grin. He knew exactly what his friend had been doing in the apartment. Before I could challenge him, Christopher said, “I’ll leave the two of you to dine. Sanchez, I’ll tell Sparks I saw you. I’m sure he will be happy to hear you are doing well and seeing Daniel.”
I woke up first on Sunday morning, got out of bed, and put on Daniel’s white shirt that I found on the floor. I hadn’t slept well. I had worried about what I could tell Father Michael after Mass, and I had been uneasy being around Christopher again. I had drunk too many lemon-drop martinis and too much wine afterward.
Even then, I couldn’t stop thinking about Daniel’s close friendship with Christopher Duval and what they knew about Henry Esposito. When I walked through the living room toward the kitchen, I saw my black dress, heels, and underwear on the floor near thev couch. Two empty wine glasses and an empty bottle of Caymus Cabernet Sauvignon were on the table. “You look awesome,” Daniel had said as I’d unbuttoned his shirt.
By the time we had gotten to my bedroom, we were both naked, embracing and kissing each other. I remembered pushing Daniel onto my bed and climbing on top of him. Each time Daniel got close, I stopped him. Finally, I started pulsating. He gasped, and I knew he couldn’t hold his climax back any longer.
Afterward, Daniel lay there exhausted, with a big smile. I had worn him out. In the kitchen I turned my attention back to my Keurig coffee maker, inserted a capsule, and watched as it filled my cup. I put in a second capsule for Daniela and added Splenda as it dripped. I drank from my cup and brought the second to the bedroom for Daniel, who opened his eyes, then sat up in bed.
“You look sexy in that shirt and your bare bottom,” he said. He pulled on my arm. After giving him a subtle wink, I started to walk away. I enjoy flirting, but I had no time for it that morning. “Daniel, it’s six-thirty in the morning, and I’m going out for a run and then go to Mass.”
“It’s Sunday. Can’t you skip the run this one time?” He got out of bed naked, came over to me, unbuttoned his shirt, and put his hand inside. I stepped back. “Daniel, I told you I don’t have time. I need to go for a run before mass.” Putting on my best sly grin, I added, “Besides, you will have to do a lot more to earn what you are asking for at six-thirty in the morning.”
“I had too much to drink last night,” I said.
“You’re more fun when you’ve been drinking. Don’t you want to make love to me again?” More fun? Was he right? Was that all he cared about? I didn’t even like myself when I was drinking. “Daniel, it’s six-thirty in the morning, and I’m going out for a run and then go to Mass.” “It’s Sunday. Can’t you skip the run this one time?” He got out of bed naked, came over to me, unbuttoned his shirt, and put his hand inside. I stepped back. “Daniel, I told you I don’t have time. I need to go for a run before mass.”
Putting on my best sly grin, I added, “Besides, you will have to do a lot more to earn what you are asking for at six-thirty in the morning.” He asked what he needed to do. After the Sunday Mass, Father Michael stopped me as I walked to my car. “That is for you to think about and figure out,” I replied. After the Sunday Mass, Father Michael stopped me as I walked to my car. “Gabriela, as I told you in the voicemail, Emma Riley’s daughter needs your help.” I tried to place Emma Riley, and her daughter, and thought about the last time Father Michael asked for my help. He had asked me to represent unaccompanied immigrant children who had gone through hell to get to this country and were facing deportation.
I had felt lots of pressure because of how important it was for me to win and keep the children here. “In the voicemail you said Emma Riley’s daughter may have shot a prominent businessman. Can you tell me more?” I asked. “Her seventeen-year-old daughter, Hope, and her friend shot and killed Henry Esposito, a prominent Dallas investment banker, stole his car and headed for Miami. I understand the Dallas police plan to charge her with murder, Emma Riley and I want you to represent Hope.” I wanted to start telling him why I was not the right lawyer to defend Hope, but a group of parishioners had gathered around him.
“Let’s talk tomorrow,” he said. Damn!