Watson, André had had it all, until he had a falling out with his father.
“Hello, André,” she replied and waited to see what he would say next.
She’d heard the story of what happened with his father. Supposedly, Drydan had fired André’s fiancée worried that André had taken time off to avoid seeing Sarah for some reason. Some sort of problem between the two had rocked the foundation of their relationship, according to office talk.
Drydan worried about his son and had thought he was helping him. But André had reacted in anger, leaving the practice, breaking Drydan and Margaret’s heart. The only good thing that had come of it was that it left an opening for an up-and-coming lawyer—her—and had gotten Drydan’s stepson, Michael, more involved in the business. He wasn’t a lawyer, but he did assist in research and such for Drydan—he had for nearly seven years now, since he’d come to live with the Watsons. After the falling out between André and his father, Michael had gone to work full-time for his father.
“Tell me, Rebekkah, are you still gofering for my father?”
Rebekkah’s eyes narrowed. André was great at distractions. He got to know his opponent and knew how to attack. That’s what made him a good lawyer. Unfortunately, it had made him cynical in many ways, too, she believed. “You know I don’t gofer for anyone, André. I’m a lawyer in my own right, and your father respects that.”
André snorted. “Yeah. Just like he does me.”
“You know he only wants you back in the business,” Rebekkah argued. “That’s why he’s always on you to get out of the inner city.” Sighing with exasperation she asked, “Why do you come here to cause Drydan problems? Your constant attacks wear him down.”
André at least, had the grace to shift uncomfortably. In khaki pants and light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled halfway up, André even looked good when he was uneasy. That unsettled her, as well. He shouldn’t look so good. However, she was glad she’d scored a point and ruffled that calm exterior. It gave her a feeling of control, something she rarely felt when André Watson was in the same room.
Or she thought she had scored a small triumph until he continued. “You’re naive, Rebekkah. You can’t believe everything Pastor Jacob says about forgiveness. Sometimes things have to be taken into our own hands.”
Sadly, she shook her head. So much for thinking she had unsettled him. He still thought of her as the green kid at the firm, the one who didn’t know what Drydan was really like. “You’re too bitter, André.” Stubbornly she added, “I think I’ll have a talk with Jacob Sunday and mention he should take a small amount of time to preach forgiveness again.” She paused significantly then added, “If you agree to show up, that is.” It concerned Drydan that André rarely went to church. At least Drydan seemed to have changed and cared more since he lost André to his own practice.
André shrugged. “Talk to Jacob?” he asked mildly. She knew he saw right through her lie. She had never been able to bluff André. She’d known him impersonally for nearly six months, and yet he still had the capacity to drive her crazy. He was a good man except for the blind spot he had about his father. “I go sometimes,” André said, absently waving off her comment.
He was a good man except for his blind spot about his father and church, she amended.
Abruptly André’s tone changed. “Believe it or not, Rebekkah, I’m not here to argue with my father but to work on a case we have to reopen.”
Rebekkah gaped at André trying to determine if she’d heard the man right. Finally, when she recovered her voice, she asked, “You’re going to work for your father?”
“Isn’t that what I just said?” he murmured, that smirking little smile appearing as his head tilted down toward her slightly and his eyebrows transformed into that certain angle as he gave her a superior look.
Using the time to smooth her peach jacket and straight skirt, Rebekkah regrouped. “I don’t believe it.”
“Why don’t you come with me to Dad’s office and you’ll find out if I’m telling the truth.” He baited her knowing how she had planned to turn him down the hall in another direction, to another office, anywhere but Drydan’s. However, what would he do if she called his bluff?
“You don’t think I will, do you?” She hated the way this cool, calm golden boy always rattled her.
Slipping his hands in his pockets, he said, “I’m hoping you will.”
She studied him, trying to discern the truth behind the neutral gaze he leveled at her. Was he serious? Did he really plan to come to work for his father again? Or was this simply a trick to see his dad? She couldn’t remember a time both hadn’t ended up in an argument.
Why couldn’t André accept that his dad had changed since the day his son had left? Though Rebekkah hadn’t known him well then, she did know that losing Andréashe had caused a wound within him. A wound that couldn’t heal because they couldn’t talk out the problem. She knew André still wasn’t over Sarah. She’d heard through the grapevine how he avoided places she frequented. He told everyone he was over it, but his hate toward his father supported a different story. Which brought her back to André’s motivations. Was he really interested in just talking this time?
There was no telling how long they would have stood in a face-off if they hadn’t been interrupted.
“Well, well, if it’s not the prodigal brother returned, not to rejoice, however, but to slink into the fold like a wolf hunting more prey.”
Rebekkah winced at Michael’s words.
“Well, hello to you, too, brother,” André drawled.
There was certainly no love lost between the two brothers, Rebekkah thought, exasperated with how this meeting had changed into a confrontation of kin. At least this fight wasn’t on André’s side, Rebekkah reminded herself wearily. Michael didn’t care at all for Drydan’s son, who seemed to always get preferential choice over the stepson. André acted as if he had no idea that it bothered Michael at all.
“How are you doing, Michael?” André smiled benignly at the other golden boy in the office, as Rebekkah thought of him. Michael looked much like André in color and build. The only real differences were the square jaw and the dark brown eyes instead of the deep piercing silver gray ones that André had. There was no doubt both were Margaret’s children. The smoother lines of André’s facial structure, aristocratic nose and silver gray eyes came from Drydan.
“Actually, I was doing great until I heard you had come here to harass your father again.”
Rebekkah noted how some of the employees down the hall seemed to be migrating toward them—obviously to see a family feud in progress. Rebekkah decided to put a stop to it right here and now. Part of her job was to keep Drydan happy. Knowing his employees were getting an eyeful in his firm wasn’t going to bring that about. “He’s here to help his father, he says, Michael. Why don’t we go talk with Drydan?” she offered, turning to André and drawing his attention to her.
“I thought you’d never ask,” André replied and gave her a sweet smile.
Michael showed his disgust with the curling of his lip.
“Michael,” she said, “I need that report on the Keller Water Treatment Facility and how
