Attorney-Client Privilege (20 page)

M
ankowski sat on the side of the bed, dressed in nothing but his blue silk boxers, sending silent messages of thanks straight up to God.

At this very moment, the smart, gorgeous, incredibly sexy Girlie Cortez was in the bathroom—his bathroom—showering. The anticipation of what was about to occur might just cause his heart to give out.

As he was imagining the touch of her creamy skin rubbing against his, she walked out of the bathroom. Completely naked. No robe, no negligee, not even a towel.

She gave him a smile that was so tantalizing he thought he might come right that second.

“Hope I wasn’t too long.”

“Not at all.”

She walked over to the foot of the bed and stopped in front of the mirror. With her backside facing him, she bent to rub oil on her upper thighs. He hoped it was some Asian herb that would hypnotize him and keep his dick hard for four hours.

Stepping out of his boxers, he slid underneath the thin sheet, never once taking his eyes off of her. She was rubbing the oil on her ass now. Her beautiful, tight, flawless ass.

He lay back with his hands laced behind his head, enjoying the preview. Girlie had cantaloupe-shaped breasts that were disproportionately large for her small frame. She’d probably paid for them, but he didn’t give a shit. He most definitely preferred manufactured tits over those mushy-looking cow udders on the cougars he’d been dating lately.

Girlie turned around to face him as she replaced the cap on the bottle. The perfectly shaved triangle at the gathering of her thighs looked like it had been sculpted by an artist. He couldn’t wait to brush his lips across that.

“So, are you any closer to finding out who killed Judi Irving?” Girlie asked.

Mankowski grimaced. This wasn’t a good sign. Girlie should have been concentrating on all of the nasty little things she had in store for him, rather than asking about his case. Phillip Peterman was still his number one person of interest, but Mankowski was beginning to seriously consider the possibility that Big Buy was also involved somehow. And if that was true, he was about to bed someone who could end up being a witness in the case, or even worse, a suspect. Unfortunately, things had gone way too far to put the brakes on now.

“Why are we talking about Big Buy?”

Girlie tilted her head, causing her hair to sweep across her right shoulder. “My mom taught me that men like to talk about their work. It makes them feel good.”

“I can think of a few other things that might make me feel good.”

Girlie grinned and perched herself at the edge of the bed facing him. She sat upright with her legs crossed like a model preschooler. He hated no longer having a clear view of her sweet spot. But at least he could still ogle her impressive rack.

Mankowski took in a deep breath of anticipation.He was more than ready to get this show on the road.

“Okay,” she said, her voice as soft as he imagined her skin to be. “Tell me what you like.”

“Everything,” he said, grinning. “I like everything.”

“C’mon,” she teased, sucking the tip of her baby finger, “there has to be something special that you like.”

He smiled. “I like seeing you in the buff. Most women aren’t comfortable with their bodies.”

Girlie shrugged. “Most women don’t have a body as fabulous as mine.”

“True.”

He wallowed in the pleasure of staring at her for a few more seconds.

“Unfold your legs,” he ordered, in the same commanding voice he used with criminals.
Put your hands up. Now!

Girlie did as instructed, forming a long V with her legs.

Wow!
The view was fantastic. “Now touch yourself.”

Without hesitation, Girlie followed orders. As Mankowski watched her masturbate, he had to struggle to refrain from grabbing himself and joining her. He was going to do everything in his power not to screw up this good thing for at least three months. Maybe five or six.

Once Girlie had brought herself to climax, she recovered quickly and crawled toward him on all fours, like a sleek, bare-assed cat.

She stopped when her head was hovering over his crotch. “We’re going to play a game.” She leaned down and took him deep into her warm, wet mouth.

Mankowski palmed the back of her head. “Oh, mother of—”

Girlie abruptly pulled away and winked at him.

“That was just a preview. The game we’re going to play is called
Hands Off
. So if you touch me in any way, the game stops. I get to do all the work.”

He grinned.
God really, really loved him.

Mankowski watched as Girlie maneuvered her body like a gymnast on top of a balance beam. In seconds, her legs were extended, parallel with his body, her feet inches above his head, balancing herself only with her hands. It took incredible strength and control for her to lift her own body weight. He was in pretty good shape, but there was no way he could do that.

Mankowski wanted to grab her ass and plunge into her, but he had to play by the rules. He gripped the side of the headboard and bit his lip.

Finally, Girlie pinned her knees at his sides, straddling him. As her body welcomed him inside, he reflexively reached out and clutched her right butt cheek.

“You’re being a bad boy,” Girlie said, easing herself off of him. “Hands off, remember?”

“Uh…oh, yeah. Sorry. I forgot.”

Girlie waited almost a full minute, then eased back down onto him, slowly, way too slowly. He closed his eyes and reluctantly submitted. In seconds that seemed like minutes, he was finally inside her.

“You like this?” She swayed from left to right like she was riding a slow-moving bucking bronco. At the same time, she was doing some reflexive move that tightened then loosened around him. Girlie was in full control and he didn’t mind being her humble subject.

Mankowski wanted to moan or curse or something, but his voice failed him. He opened his eyes, salivated at her gorgeous body, and wished he could pinch one of her nipples.

As he was seconds away from coming, he could hear his partner’s voice spewing disapproval. But right now, Mankowski felt too damn good to care about ethical considerations or department policies. He would enjoy the hell out of Girlie Cortez and deal with the consequences later.

O
livia’s voice sounded so garbled that I could only make out every other word between her sobs.

“Olivia, please,” I said into the phone, “I need you to calm down.
I
can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

“Big Buy just killed the lawsuit!”

“Killed the lawsuit? What are you talking about?”

“They gave all the female employees a letter.”

“A letter? Olivia, you’re not making any sense. I need you to take a deep breath and speak slowly.”

I couldn’t believe she was actually having a meltdown. Not Olivia, my Rock of Gibraltar. Her faith never faltered. It took a few more minutes, but when I finally understood what she was telling me, I was the one diving into panic mode.

“I need to see a copy of that letter,” I said. “Did they give you one?”

“No,” she sniffed. “Robyn either. I don’t know about Marcia because she works at the Torrance store. But every other female employee got one.”

I instructed her to get a copy from a co-worker and go to Staples on her lunch break to fax it to me.

It took another forty minutes before the fax arrived. Once I read the letter, I wanted to strangle Girlie Cortez.

Dear Valued Big Buy Associate,

I’d like to thank you for your contribution and dedication to our company. A recent lawsuit has alleged that Big Buy’s promotional practices have not been fairly applied to women. We believe these allegations have no merit and our own investigation has found no evidence supporting these claims.

Nevertheless, we have decided to use this opportunity to demonstrate Big Buy’s commitment to ensuring a workplace that is free from all forms of discrimination. As a sign of our good faith, we are offering every female sales associate three-thousand dollars ($3,000.00) in exchange for signing the attached release agreement. Signing this agreement will mean that you waive your right to participate in the pending class action lawsuit.

To further demonstrate our commitment, we are implementing a new Diversity Task force to examine our promotional and pay practices. Going forward, promotions in all of our stores must be approved by a corporate human resources panel.

I balled up the letter and hurled it across the room.

The company was undermining my class action by waving a fake apology and a measly three grand in front of these women’s faces. This was probably the largest lump sum most would ever receive in their lives. There was no way they would turn it down for the possibility of a larger payment months or years from now.

I charged out of my office and headed next door to talk to Nichelle Ayers, a close friend and one of the partners at the law firm where I rented space. I barged in without knocking.

“Sorry to disturb you,” I said, “but I have an emergency.”

“Hey, girl. Have a seat. What’s going on?”

I was too peeved to sit down so I remained standing, gripping the back of the chair. “Big Buy just pulled the rug out from under me.”

I told her about the letter. “Can they do that?”

“That’s crazy,” Nichelle said, her eyes expanding in surprise. She punched three numbers on her phone. “Can you come over to my office?” she said, when her law partner picked up. “We need your help with something.”

“I’ve never heard of a company doing that,” Nichelle said, as we waited for Russell Barnes to join us. “But when you think about it, paying off the women now means they’ll probably save millions in attorneys’ fees and engender some good will from their employees. It’s actually quite brilliant.”

“Yeah, it’s brilliant,” I grumbled, “but is it legal? I’ve met with some of the women in person and had telephone conversations with others. So as far as I’m concerned, there was an attorney-client relationship between us. And Big Buy violated it by sending them that letter.”

Tall and studious-looking, Russell Barnes towered into the office. “What’s up?”

“Wait until you hear this,” Nichelle said, then shared my predicament. “Can they get away with that?”

Russell scratched his head. “I think I have heard of companies doing that before.”

“But those women are my clients,” I insisted. “They can’t contact them directly. They have to communicate with them through me.”

“Did they sign representation agreements?” Russell asked.

“Only the three lead plaintiffs did and I know for sure that two of them didn’t get the letter. The other women we spoke to were really nervous about the lawsuit and weren’t willing to be listed as plaintiffs, so I didn’t ask them to sign agreements.”

“Then you may be out of luck. Technically, you don’t represent anybody else because the class hasn’t been certified by the court yet. So Big Buy may be perfectly within its rights to pay off the women.”

As I stood there, all I could see was Girlie Cortez’s gloating face.

I had no idea what I was going to do, but there was no way I was going to let her defeat me a fourth time.

F
or the last twenty minutes, Mankowski and Thomas had been hot on Phillip’s tail as he drove north up La Cienega Boulevard. They were reasonably sure they hadn’t been spotted because Mankowski had borrowed his cousin’s new Porsche.

Thomas gripped the steering wheel like he was holding the woman he loved.

“Man, if I could afford one of these, I’d trade in my firstborn.”

Mankowski smiled. “I’ll be sure not to mention that to your wife.”

Phillip transitioned to San Vicente Boulevard. “Get in your left lane,” Mankowski barked. “Don’t lose him.”

“We’re in a Porsche. He’s in a Benz,” Thomas said. “That’s not going to happen. He’s got luxury, but we’ve got luxury
and
speed. He’s probably headed to another acting class. This dude needs to get a job.”

Mankowski chuckled. “I’m betting Actor Boy’s found himself a replacement cougar.”

“What a lucky guy,” Thomas said wistfully. “A woman willing to pay all the bills and screw your brains out too.”

Mankowski started whistling as he thought about his mind-blowing tryst with Girlie Cortez. He was dying to brag to Thomas about it, but he knew better.

“Speaking of screwing around,” Thomas said, “meet anybody new?”

A chill swept through Mankowski. “Nope.”

He had been extra careful. There was no way Thomas could know that he had hooked up with Girlie. “Why’d you ask?”

“I dunno. Maybe it’s your rosy cheeks and the fact you’re whistling all the time.”

Mankowski stared out of the window. “Hey, man, I’m just a happy-go-lucky kinda guy.”

Even though he’d screwed her, Mankowski was still playing Girlie the way she needed to be played. When she suggested dinner the night after their hookup, he’d put her off. It wasn’t that difficult pretending to be aloof. He was still jacking off from the memory of his evening with her.

They continued northwest on San Vicente Boulevard until Phillip made a left onto Burton Way.

“Where the hell is he going?” Thomas asked.

“I’m telling you, he’s got a new woman,” Mankowski insisted. “This is a pretty nice neighborhood, so she probably has some bucks. I think he’s just been laying low for the past few weeks. But now he can’t hold out any longer.”

After a moment, Mankowski snapped his fingers. “I bet I know exactly where he’s going.”

Thomas turned to face him. “Well, hurry up and let me in on it.”

“The Four Seasons Hotel on Doheny.”

“He can’t afford that place. The cheapest room there has to be at least five-hundred bucks a night.”

“He can if the chick he’s screwing has dough.”

They followed as Phillip did indeed turn onto Doheny and then made another quick right into the small half-circle driveway in front of the Four Seasons Hotel.

“Crap,” Mankowski said. “We can’t follow him in there. He’ll spot us.”

The front of the hotel was hidden from street view by a large brick wall and tall shrubbery. The wealthy relished their privacy.

Thomas drove past the hotel, then did a U-turn and pulled over to the curb across the street.

“So now what?” Thomas asked.

Mankowski glanced at his watch. “Let’s give him a chance to get inside, then we’re going in. I’m figuring that after he gets through pumping his girlfriend, we may get lucky and catch them walking out together.”

After another ten minutes, they pulled up in front of the hotel and climbed out of the car. Thomas was slow to hand over the keys to the Porsche. “How about if I park it myself?” he said to the valet.

“I’m sorry, sir. We don’t have self-parking.”

“Give him the damn keys,” Mankowski barked.

“Don’t scratch it,” Thomas said, staring wistfully as the valet drove off.

“I see now that I’m going to have to pry the keys from your hands when it’s time to give it back.”

Thomas whipped his head around. “We gotta give it back?”

Mankowski chuckled. He was about to reach for the door when a doorman opened it for him.

Thomas whistled as they stepped inside the lobby. “This place even feels like money. It’s a shame how the other half lives.”

They found a deserted area of the bar, after first making sure Phillip wasn’t in there.

Thomas pulled out his iPhone to check on his most recent stock trades. “So how long are we waiting?”

“I figure a stud like Phillip would need about an hour to do his thing. It’s the middle of the day so his princess probably has a job or a husband to get back to. In another thirty minutes, let’s find a spot where we can see them leave.”

Exactly forty-two minutes later, they spotted Phillip walking out of the hotel. Alone.

“There he is,” Thomas said. “There’s a pep in his step. I’d say he definitely got laid.”

Mankowski groaned. “No matter how many women walk out of here after him, there’s no way for us to figure out who he was with.”

So far, except for a few men who looked like businessmen, only couples had gone in and out of the hotel.

“Let’s stay put a little while longer. Keep an eye on any woman walking out alone,” Mankowski said. “We can jot down the license plate numbers of each one and check her out.”

Just as the words left Mankowski’s lips, a strikingly hot brunette floated through the lobby carrying a dainty leather briefcase. Every man in the vicinity stopped to gawk at her.

Thomas looked from the woman to Mankowski. “You okay?”

Mankowski didn’t answer right away. “Why wouldn’t I be?” he snapped.

“I don’t know. Just checking.”

“Checking for what?”

Thomas frowned. “Man, don’t think you can keep any secrets from me. I know what you’ve been up to. I
am
a detective.”

Mankowski tried to keep his face as neutral as possible. He could not let Thomas see the mix of emotions churning in his chest. Regret, embarrassment, and most of all, anger. The fact that his partner knew his little secret made it even worse.

They both sat speechless, watching from the ritzy lobby of the Four Seasons Hotel as the parking attendant helped Girlie Cortez into her silver blue Jaguar.