Geneva nodded, her expression understanding. “Senator Drake has that effect on people.” She winked. “Nice to see you’re not completely immune to the qualms the rest of us suffer on a regular basis.”
A chuckle strained from Carson’s dry throat. “I’ll try and take that as a compliment.”
She patted him on the shoulder. “I’ve watched thirty years’ worth of cocky young attorneys come through this office and I’m here to tell you, thatisa compliment.”
But it wasn’t.
Not to Carson.
“Thanks.” He squared his shoulders and opened the door. The only way to get this done was to do it.
Carson entered the room and both Wainwright and Drake shifted their attention to him. But it was the person who didn’t bother to look his way who stole Carson’s immediate, exclusive interest.Elizabeth Drake.
As if he’d spoken the thought aloud, she turned to him and smiled. Looked exactly the same. Long dark hair, vivid green eyes.
Senator Drake stood and extended his hand, drawing Carson’s reluctant attention to him. “How’s our future DA this evening?”
No pressure there.
Carson took the man’s hand and gave it a firm, brisk shake. “Outstanding, sir. And you?”
“Can’t complain,” Drake said as he resumed his seat. He waved a hand toward his daughter. “The mayor thought it would be good if Elizabeth joined us.”
Carson turned to her. “Unquestionably.”
Elizabeth rose from her chair with all the grace and poise three years at the very best boarding school and then the top private women’s university could bestow.
“Carson.” Instead of offering her hand, she hugged him politely. “It’s good to see you.” She drew away but took a moment to give him a thorough once-over. “You’re looking well.”
He told himself her choice in words had no hidden meaning.Maybe that boy’s like his uncle.Carson exiled the voice. “Thanks. It’s a pleasure having you join us. And you”—he gave Elizabeth a nod of approval—“you look amazing.” Their statements sounded so mundane, considering the history between them.
Ancient history.
But not so antiquated that he didn’t feel things. Like the tightening in his gut at merely being in the same room with her. Or the pressure banded around his chest just remembering all they had shared. Sweet whispers, frantic touches ...
Wainwright ushered the meeting to order, prompting Carson and Elizabeth to take their seats. He recapped the long-alleged suspicions regarding Fleming’s activities. The lengthy overview allowed Carson’s mind to wander.
Elizabeth Drake served as Birmingham’s deputy mayor. The city loved her. Her name or face was constantly in the media. She was Birmingham’s princess. Carson had run into her from time to time since her return two years ago, but that was about the extent of it. Avoiding her was easier than facing the parts of the past that just seeing her resurrected. He wondered, though, if she ever thought about how things might have been if his life hadn’t taken such a sharp detour.
Doubtful.
Elizabeth was the only woman he’d ever loved. She, Carson, and her brother Dane had been inseparable. They’d gone to school together as kids, lived within a mile of each other, and shared every crazy moment of coming of age.
Until that day changed everything.
He’d lost the girl. He’d lost everything.
Ask yourself if you’ll ever really know what happened.
“Carson?”
He snapped to attention, cleared his throat, and mentally grappled to catch up with the conversation. What had Wainwright asked him?
“We’re all anxious to hear what you’ve deduced so far as to the viability of this investigation,” Wainwright restated, displeasure scoring his brow.
Concentrate.Randolph Drake and Donald Wainwright were the two most pivotal players in his future. Carson had to get his shit together. That Elizabeth had discreetly checked her phone a couple of times indicated he wasn’t the only one capable of being distracted during such a critical meeting. But then, this meeting was about his conclusions. His distraction was unacceptable.
“Annette Baxter.” Even as Carson said the name, pornographic images from the night before cluttered his vision. “Born in Knoxville, Tennessee. She spent the first ten years of her life in extreme poverty. Spent the next six in foster care.” The scenarios that had materialized in his head as he’d read her file twisted in his gut even now.
