Tears and sadness overtake me as I look out the window and feel shame. Because I doubted my father’s love and I had no right.
No right at all.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Katie Shalanger’s law office is located in downtown San Francisco on California Street. It’s a towering building made of glass with a semi-circle of columns that reach up five stories flanking the entrance. There is a common square in front with gardens and people sitting on the long concrete planters having lunch. More than respectable—it’s intimidating. I go inside and security immediately directs me to the reception desk where a pleasant and pretty woman takes my name and checks a list.
“Here you go, Miss Preston,” she says, handing me a visitor’s badge. “Miss Shalanger is expecting you. Use the pass to access the twenty-fifth floor.”
I don’t need to have this meeting. And when I called, the receptionist seemed hesitant to give me a face-to-face. I’m not sure if Katie is nervous about how this all went down, or if she thinks I might come to her work and cause a scene.
I get to the elevators and swipe my badge and press the button. The elevator doors close and a second later I’m flying upward. Towards what, I’m not sure. The truth, I hope.
The doors open again and I come out directly into a lobby. Which means they have the whole floor. These Shalangers are nobody you want to mess with if you’re on the opposite side of the courtroom from them. Their whole image says they are serious, accomplished, and have considerable assets available for their clients.
“Miss Preston,” the woman at the greeting desk says, standing up so I can see her better. “Miss Shalanger will be out in a minute. Can I get you some water?”
“No, thank you,” I say, taking a seat in one of the overstuffed leather chairs. I wring my hands for four minutes before a sweet voice says, “Miss Preston?” from the other side of the room.
I stand and walk towards her. Katie Shalanger is tall, blonde, and utterly gorgeous.
And she was a client of Fletcher Novak. He was setting her up with a man.
I don’t understand.
I shake her outstretched hand and say, “Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me.”
She gives me a tight smile and then leads the way through the hall and waves me into her office. It’s large and clean. Neat and tidy with no messy files like my office in my father’s corporate building a few blocks down. Everything here is about appearances.
I take a seat in another overstuffed chair, and Katie takes the one next to me instead of positioning herself in power behind the desk.
“I’d just like to start by saying I’m so sorry for your loss.”
I nod, biting back the sadness. “Thank you. And as you can imagine, that’s why I’m here. I looked at the files you left me and I understand what they mean, Miss—”
“Call me Katie,” she says, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze.
“Katie,” I say, swallowing. “I understand what you were trying to tell me with those documents. My lawyers have looked them over and, well, they’re taking care of things.”
“I’m glad… may I call you Tiffy?”
“Sure.” I laugh.
“Tiffy, I’m glad. I’m not a probate lawyer. I’m not a lawyer at all, in fact. My father and uncles do that. What I do is investigate for them. And Fletcher is… well, I consider him a very good friend. He went to school with one of my cousins, and she… well…” Katie throws up her hands. “OK, you know he runs a matchmaking business, right?”
“I do,” I say.
“So I hired him, and that same night, he hired us. First it was about you and the company. He was just trying to save his job. But then he mentioned that Cole Lancaster looked familiar. So I started digging. Just in case there was something there I needed to know.”
“And there was.”
“There was. At first it was just about the frequent visits to the hotel. The rooms, the room service billed to the company. Things like that. Things Fletcher could use to prove he did nothing wrong by dating patrons of the show. You see, Cole was”—she does finger quotes—“‘dating’ plenty of employees himself.”
I swallow hard again. “I figured that out too. A bar waitress told me that day my dad had a stroke.”
“I’m only bringing that up because I need you to understand Fletcher didn’t set out to pry into your life. And he doesn’t want you to think he did. It started out as a way to fight for his job.”
I let out a sigh. “But you found more.”
“Your friend Claudio told Fletcher about your father’s interest, and he mentioned it to me. Just a little FYI. Sometimes things that don’t seem important at the time end up being the crucial details that wins a case.”
“And you went on a hunch?” I look down at my feet. “Was Cole that obvious? Was I the only one oblivious to his true nature?”
She laughs. “I doubt that. He had a lot of scams brewing, Miss Preston. And your father’s will was just one of them. I think he used your longtime friendship to manipulate you and your father. When you know someone, you have every right to trust them. No one expects betrayal from someone they counted on as a friend.”
I feel the tears spring forth, and it pisses me off that I could control them when she mentioned my father, but not this frank admission of what Cole did. “I’m sorry,” I say, dabbing my eyes with a tissue I pull from my purse.
“Don’t be. It’s a sad thing when trust is broken.”
“Well, I want to say thank you for all the work you did. My lawyers said we have a solid case. Your research and thoroughness will make sure that Cole Lancaster is not the executor of the will, and that title is given back to me.”
She squeezes my hand again. “I’m so glad.”
“But that’s not the real reason I’m here.” I stare at her, willing myself to ask the question. “I want to know if you…” Fuck. “If you know where I can find Fletcher.”
She smiles and I already know what she’s going to say. “I’m sorry, I don’t. I know he left Tahoe. And I have a feeling about where he went. But he is a client of ours as well, so I can’t share that with you.”
“I understand.” I also feel defeated. “But I said some things I’d like to take back, and I was…” My words trail off because her smile is firm. She will not divulge anything about Fletcher to me today. “Well, if you see him or talk to him, can you just let him know I’m sorry for all the things I said?” I shake my head with a sigh. “I don’t know who he is, but the person everyone thinks he is, Katie, that’s not real, is it?”
She smiles bigger, like I just hit my target. But it comes with a noncommittal shrug. “I’m sure he’ll turn up again. One day.”
“OK,” I say, withdrawing my hand from hers and standing up. “I won’t take up any more of your time. But one more thing, Katie. Why did you hire Fletch? I mean, I don’t understand why you needed his… services.”
She stands with me, and now she’s beaming. “Tiffy, surely you’ve noticed that Fletcher has a remarkable presence. He’s charismatic, and fun, and friendly. He knows his way around a woman.”
I chortle.
“But not like that. It’s not what you think. I can give you this small piece of information, as it’s so vague, no one could misconstrue that as breach of privacy. He’s not what you think. Nothing about him is what you think. So if you see him again, keep that in mind. And if you don’t, don’t feel bad about how it ended. He liked you, I know that much. Or he’d never have gotten so personally involved.” She laughs. “Especially without a contract.”
Jesus. I laugh about that too. “Did he help you, Katie? With whatever it was you were looking for help with?”
Her shrug is as big as the smile she lights the room up with. “He did, Tiffy. He did. I’m a satisfied customer. And no, it wasn’t Cole.”
I laugh too. “I figured that.”