Hard To Handle by Jamie Denton

Author:Jamie Denton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2005-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

“GOOD CALL. I owe you one,” Nolan said to his assistant.

Ozzie Parish grinned, obviously pleased with himself. “Didn’t I tell you Eckerd would deny the motion?”

Nolan dropped his briefcase on the floor by his desk. “Yeah, you did,” he agreed, taking the handful of pink message slips Ozzie held out for him.

Ozzie clicked his tongue and crossed Nolan’s corner office to pluck a few dry leaves from the potted plants on the brass plant stand near the bank of windows overlooking the city. “So,” Ozzie prompted, “how did the missus take the court’s decision?”

Nolan chuckled at the memory of Mikki’s outrage. “Not well.” A gross understatement. If she’d been within reach of a sharp instrument, she’d have sliced him up and gleefully fed him to the sea lions in the bay.

All that fiery passion aimed in his direction had been a huge turn-on, and although he probably hadn’t helped his cause, Mikki remained a temptation he wasn’t about to resist. Thankfully she was equally tempted, and he planned to exploit that fact as often as necessary until he convinced her she couldn’t live without him.

“Schedule Connie Hillman for an appointment next week, would you, Oz?”

“Will do.” Ozzie made a note on his steno pad, then gave Nolan a once-over. “No missing parts, I see. I’m impressed.”

“Don’t be,” Nolan said. “I can handle my wife.”

He circled the desk and sat in the buttery-soft leather chair. After flipping through the messages collected while he’d been in court all morning, he gave Ozzie a list of files he wanted pulled from central filing. Prior to the motion before Eckerd, he’d attended a brief hearing on a custody matter, plus another settlement conference in the Hillman divorce. The division of property still hadn’t been resolved after three attempts, and today the judge had reached the limit of her patience. She’d ordered the parties to come to a mutually acceptable resolution within thirty days or she would hold them each in contempt and levy a hefty fine, a threat that his client’s husband, the cheap Zachary Hillman, would hopefully take seriously.

Ozzie dropped into the chair across from Nolan’s desk. “Then old man Turner should be a breeze,” he said slyly.

Nolan looked at Ozzie. “What do you mean?”

“He’s waiting to see you.”

“He’s here?” Robert Turner was the Turner of Turner, Crawford and Lowe. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

Ozzie appeared mildly sheepish. “Sorry, boss man.”

“Did he say what he wanted?”

Ozzie shook his head. “He flew in from L.A. this morning and just showed up, asking for you.”

“A phone call wouldn’t suffice?”

Ozzie shrugged his wiry shoulders. “Guess not.”

“And he didn’t say what he wanted?” Nolan confirmed again.

“Not a word.”

Nolan let out a sigh and stood, dropping the remainder of unread messages on his desk. “Let him know I’m on my way,” he told Ozzie, and promptly left his office.

Turner’s sudden appearance couldn’t be good news, Nolan thought. Something had to be up if the old man had flown to San Francisco just to speak with him personally.

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