Rannigan's Redemption: Complete Collection Read online

  “Ladies,” he greeted them, flashing his mega-watt smile. Just get this over with, he begged as he zeroed in on the Murphy, Rannigan table.

  Already seated at the table were John Hemphill, Stan Hodges, and Ellen Standifer. The trio were associates from the elite 50th floor of Murphy, Rannigan. They were good enough at what they did, which was mostly research and legwork, with the occasional foray into the courtroom when necessity called. Each had a laptop and on the table was a spreadsheet they’d worked out back at the office. Of course, they’d vetted possible candidates before they ever set foot at the university. Preparation saves time in the long run, they knew.

  Michael took a bottled water from the table and sipped, standing behind the three and continuing to scan the room. “What’ve we got?” he asked.

  Hemphill gave him a brief rundown. “We’ve interviewed five candidates so far, five of the ones we were interested in. We’ve turned away about a dozen others that didn’t meet our standards,” he related in his adenoidal drone that so grated on Michael.

  “You’re turning away interviewees who aren’t on your candidate list?” Michael snapped. “How sure are you that your list is accurate? Paper and data don’t always tell the story.” Hemphill reddened a bit.

  “Well, I...” the man floundered.

  Michael grinned to himself. It’s the little pleasures in life that make it all worthwhile, he thought. He watched as a young woman crossed the floor, seeming to make a beeline for their table. She was petite, with red hair, and she was wearing a grey suit paired with a green silk blouse. What have we here, he wondered.

  “Hello,” said the young woman. “I’d like to interview with your firm.” She reached across the table to shake hands with the attorneys seated there.

  “And you are?” Michael asked, still standing behind the others.

  “Oh, sorry,” she said, clearly flustered. She opened her folio to remove copies of her resume and several slipped out, sailing across the floor. Michael watched in amusement as she scrambled to gather them up again. “Sorry,” she repeated, as she handed a document to each of them.

  “Mary Margaret Flynn,” Michael read from the top line of the resume.

  “Um, Maggie, actually,” the young woman corrected.

  “Have a seat, Ms. Flynn,” Hemphill directed as they read over her resume. Standifer pulled up Mary Margaret Flynn on their database and Hodges located her name on their spreadsheet. There were two stars beside her name. How have we not spoken with this one yet?

  Michael took a seat directly across from her. He was impressed with the resume, and he’d found her name on the spreadsheet before Hodges had. He looked from the document back up to her face. Her green eyes were wide and as she sat, she fidgeted nervously with the atrocious vinyl folio containing her resumes.

  “So Ms. Flynn, your resume is impressive. It says that you interned with Rance Stockwell at the DA’s office. I’m surprised he hasn’t offered you a job.”

  “Oh, he has,” Maggie replied. “I just haven’t accepted yet.”

  “Looking for better offers, are you?” Michael asked, arching an eyebrow.

  “I have a great deal of student loan debt,” she confessed. “It makes sense to me to look around and find my best options.”

  Michael leaned back in his chair. “Are you familiar with our firm?” he asked.

  “Yes, actually,” Maggie answered. “I heard you speak once at a charity luncheon. You said that everyone is entitled to the best defense possible, regardless of the circumstances of their charges.”

  Michael tried to suppress a smile. “I said that, did I?” The others at the table snickered.

  Maggie’s face reddened a bit as she glanced down the line of lawyers. “It really resonated with me,” she said quietly. “I also tried one of your cases as a mock trial project.”

  “Which case did you choose?” asked Michael.

  “People v. Lawson.”

  The other three snickered louder and Michael looked down at his notes, suppressing another grin. “Well, Ms. Flynn, if you were going to try one of my cases, you might have chosen one I actually won.”

  Maggie glared indignantly at the panel. “I, well, I tweaked it a little. I uncovered evidence that you overlooked.” Michael sat up straight; she had his undivided attention. “Testimony in the deposition was contradicted on the witness stand. The victim stated in the deposition that she’d met the defendant two weeks prior to the incident. On the stand she said she’d just met him that night. It was enough doubt for the mock jury. I won your case.”

  Michael looked at the other three. If someone had dropped the ball on the case, he or she was currently seated at the table. They all looked down, suddenly intensely interested in their notes.

  He cleared his throat. “It seems, Ms. Flynn, we have everything we need. We’ll make a decision by the end of the week and let you know.”

  Maggie stood and reached out her hand. “Thank you for your time.”

  “Thank you,” Michael nodded, shaking her hand. He watched her walk back across the room and disappear in the crowd.

  Chapter 4

  She felt her face burning as she walked away from the Murphy, Rannigan table. That couldn’t possibly have gone any worse, she thought. Well, if I’d thrown up on them. That would have been worse.

  Casey and Ben were still standing where she’d left them, and they were anxiously awaiting a report. “Well?!” Casey begged as soon as Maggie was close enough. “How did it go?”

  Maggie rolled her eyes. “It was bad. Did you see me drop my papers? And they actually laughed at me when I talked about trying Rannigan’s case for my project.” She shook her head sheepishly. “Oh, well, I’m glad I have an in with Rance and the DA’s office.”

  Ben clapped his large hand on her shoulder. “I’d stay here and help you feel sorry for yourself but I have an interview, bitches,” he grinned. “Hey, buck up, Flynn. At least we’re still going out for your birthday.”

  Maggie had almost forgotten. Her birthday wasn’t until tomorrow but Ben, Casey, and their whole group of friends were taking her to the Blue Note tonight to celebrate. “Well, there’s that,” she sighed.

  * * *

  By nine o’clock that evening, Maggie was seated at a large round table at the Blue Note along with some of her closest friends with whom she’d scaled the mountain they called law school. Casey was there, of course, as was Ben, who’d brought his new boyfriend, Alex. Des Oliver and Jacob Hoechner, Marcus Jensen and his date, Catherine somebody, and Kevin Alverez rounded out their group. Kevin played drums in a jazz band and they were playing later that night.

  Over the last couple of years, the friends had bonded over classes, assignments, exams, reviews, relationship woes, successes, and failures. Des and Jacob had been a couple since the first week they’d all arrived as new graduate students and they were engaged, planning a summer wedding.

  Maggie watched the two of them and felt a little envious. It must be nice to have someone, she thought. Des had Jacob. Ben had Alex. Even Casey had a boyfriend, John, a journalist who worked for the Providence Journal back home. The month before, Maggie had been dumped by Steve, her boyfriend of about six months. If she was honest with herself, she’d have to admit that she hadn’t been that torn up about the breakup. Although she liked him, she knew she didn’t love him, certainly didn’t want to spend the rest of her life with him. But it was nice to have a standing date, nice to have guaranteed sex. She sighed to herself.

  Casey broke into her brief moment of self-pity. “Tell them about your interview, Maggie.”

  Maggie glared at her. “Seriously? I’m supposed to be the birthday girl. Don’t I get to be Queen for a Day or something?”

  “Oh, queen, schmeen,” Casey said, rolling her eyes. “Tell them about your face off with the Michael Rannigan.”

  “That man is hot,” Marcus’s date Catherine commented.

  “I’d do him,” Alex said and everyone laughed.

  “
Shh, you guys, let Maggie tell the story,” Casey said.

  Maggie realized that the laughter and banter at the table had quieted down as everyone waited to hear about the interview. “Shit!” she swore, embarrassed. “It’s not that big of a deal. They were assholes, mostly. I suppose it didn’t help that I dropped my crap everywhere. But they laughed when they found out that I used one of Rannigan’s cases for that project.”

  “Why did they laugh?” Des asked.

  “Because I chose a case he lost,” Maggie answered. “But you’d better believe I made sure I told them that he missed evidence on that case, evidence I used to win the case and ace the project.”

  “You’ve got mad balls, sweetheart,” said Alex.

  “Cheers to Maggie’s mad balls,” Jacob said, raising his glass. Everyone, including Maggie, laughed and raised their glasses in a toast.

  “They just pissed me off,” Maggie said.

  Ben winked at her. “Your glass is empty, Flynn. We can’t have the birthday girl getting thirsty!” He left the table and made his way to the bar. The place was fairly empty for a Thursday night and he had no trouble moving through the sparse crowd.

  Maggie was watching Ben order her beer when she heard Casey from across the table. “Holy fucking shit! Look who just walked in.”

  Maggie turned to see Michael Rannigan strolling into the bar, a drop dead gorgeous blonde woman on his arm. Her heart stopped.

  “Here you go, Flynn,” Ben said, returning with her Guinness. “Hey, check it out, it’s Rannigan!”

  Maggie ducked down a little hoping he’d pass by without seeing her.

  “Don’t you want to say hi to your new buddy?” Casey teased.

  * * *

  It was a quarter to ten when Michael walked into the Blue Note with Gwen Channing. Being back in the Village earlier that day had made him feel nostalgic, so he’d called Gwen, who was in town on a two-day layover.

  Back in the day, he thought, smiling to himself. Back in the day he’s spent many an evening drinking too much, debating the finer points of the law, and listening to great music.

  As he’d expected, the crowd was fairly thin. Had it been the weekend the place would have been packed; people would have needed reservations. Well, most people. There was always a table for Michael Rannigan. And not only at the Blue Note. He’d charmed hosts and maitre ds all over town.

  Michael scanned the room as they were shown to their table and he noted a large group occupying a table not far from the bar. Probably law students, he thought, blowing off steam before finals. On closer inspection, he realized there was a face he recognized. That girl from the interview today. The one who’d let him know he’d fucked up. Or that Hemphill had fucked up, more likely, he thought. Now what was her name?

  As Gwen settled in at their table he strode across the room toward the group. “Mary Margaret Flynn!” he greeted her, giving her the full wattage of his best smile. “How are you this fine evening?” He watched as the blush crept up her neck to color her face nearly as red as her hair.

  “Um, it’s Maggie, actually,” she managed. “I’m well, and you?”

  “I was in the mood for a little music tonight so I figured, what the hell? Head on down to the Village, see what’s going on,” Michael said.

  Another young woman at the table spoke up. “We’re here celebrating Maggie’s birthday.”

  He watched the blush deepen. “Really? I didn’t know, my apologies for interrupting your celebration,” Michael offered, privately amused at Maggie’s discomfort. “Happy Birthday, Maggie.”

  “Um, actually, my birthday isn’t until tomorrow, but...” she stammered. “Anyway, thank you.”

  She looked up and met his gaze. And that’s when he knew. She was attracted to him. He could always tell when a woman wanted him. There was something in her eyes. He gave his dazzling smile again. “I’ll just leave you to your celebration. It was good to see you again. Have a very happy birthday.”

  “Nice to see you, too. And thank you,” Maggie managed. With that, Michael turned and walked back to Gwen and his own table.

  * * *

  “Oh. My. Effing. God.” Casey stared open-mouthed as Michael returned to his own table. “That man is sex on legs.”

  “Stop,” Maggie protested, embarrassed.

  “Somebody made an impression today,” Ben observed.

  To Maggie’s immense relief, Kevin’s band took the stage and further conversation was averted. Throughout their set, Maggie’s attention kept wandering to the table in the corner. She saw him chatting and laughing with the beauty queen. He seemed to enjoy the music, too. Once, their eyes met and she felt a jolt of electricity as he gave her a small private smile. She immediately looked away, his gaze too intense and intimate for her comfort.

  Shortly before the end of Kevin’s first set, a server approached the table with three bottles of wine. “Compliments of the gentleman at the corner table,” she said. To Maggie, she handed a business card. It was his, of course. S. Michael Rannigan, Murphy, Rannigan, & Metheny. It listed the office number and his email. Turning over the card she discovered a handwritten note. We’d like you offer you a job at Murphy, Rannigan. Call my assistant tomorrow to set up a meeting next week. Happy Birthday, Maggie. M.R.

  Chapter 5

  Michael had met Gwen Channing a couple of years earlier on a flight from New York to Las Vegas. She was attending to the first class cabin, then about an hour into the flight, she was attending to him personally, giving him a blow job in the galley of the 777. Gwen always gave him a call when she was in town.

  Michael returned to his table in the corner and to his irritated date. “Who are they?” she snipped.

  “Some students from the U. I recognized one of them from the interviews today,” he answered. “Did you order?”

  As the evening progressed, he realized that Gwen was rambling on about an asshole passenger on a recent flight but his mind was on Mary Margaret Flynn. The truth was, she intrigued him. She wasn’t unattractive. Obviously not dating material, but still, she was smart and she had spirit, too. She’d proved that when she’d stood up to all of them that afternoon.

  He was glad when a band took the stage. He could stop pretending that he was listening to Gwen.

  Back to Maggie, he thought. The idea that she was attracted to him disappointed him somehow. She should be smarter than that. He wondered which guy at the table was with Maggie. And it was her birthday. I should have noticed on her resume, he thought. But then, he should have noticed the discrepancy in the People v. Lawson case. He was half convinced that the missed evidence had been sabotage on Hemphill’s part. I hate that little prick, he grimaced to himself.

  Sipping his bourbon, he looked across the room to find Maggie looking straight at him. He smiled at her and she quickly looked away. He thought about her interview. She had an eye for detail. He could use someone like that on his team. It wouldn’t suck to poach a candidate out from under Rance Stockwell, either. Michael Rannigan always liked to win.

  Decision made, Michael left Gwen at the table, found the hostess, and ordered three bottles of Bollinger for Maggie’s table. Removing a business card from his pocket, he scribbled a note on the back and directed that it be given to her. He returned to Gwen and watched as his order was delivered to the other table. Heads turned to look his way and he gave a brief salute of acknowledgement. Maggie, red of face, mouthed a ‘thank you’.

  * * *

  “You’re moving up in the world, Flynn,” Ben commented, toasting her with Rannigan’s champagne.

  “Yeah, well,” she said, shrugging. “Don’t get used to it.” What the fuck?! she thought. He’d sent champagne, very expensive champagne, and a personal note. She could feel her face burning as she mouthed ‘thank you’ across the room. On the up side, he said the firm wanted to hire her. She glanced again at the card in her hand before slipping it into her purse. She’d definitely make that call tomorrow.

  The band finished their set and K
evin returned to the table. “Maggie, open your presents now,” Casey commanded, taking charge of the envelopes and gift bags, passing them to her one by one. Maggie, grateful for the distraction, dutifully opened them all, graciously thanking everyone for their thoughtful gifts.

  By the time her gifts were opened it was nearly midnight. Des and Jacob stood to make their goodbyes and Marcus with his date was quick to follow. Maggie looked to Casey. “I’m kinda beat myself,” she said.

  “Oh, you’re such a rookie!” Casey scolded. “Kev, are you staying?”

  “We’re playing again in half an hour,” he said.

  “Alex and I are headed out,” Ben said. “We’ll walk you home, Flynn.”

  Maggie smiled with relief. She didn’t want to stay and she didn’t want to walk home alone. Gathering her things, she hugged Casey and Kevin goodbye. “Just let me go and thank...” she began, but as she turned she realized that the table in the corner was now occupied by a different couple.

  “Yeah, Studly left about half an hour ago,” Ben said. “Sorry, kid.”

  “Oh, please!” she protested. “I just wanted to thank him for the wine.”

  Alex and Ben smirked at each other and laughed. “But how did you want to thank him?” Alex laughed again, as they walked out into the cool spring evening, and Maggie felt herself blush for about the fiftieth time that night.

  * * *

  Safely locked inside her second floor walk-up brownstone apartment about five blocks from the Blue Note, she went to the bay window facing the street to wave at Ben and Alex. She knew they’d wait until they were sure she was safely inside. They blew her kisses before walking away arm in arm toward their own place.

  The party had been fun. She loved her friends dearly and tried not to think about what would happen when they went their separate ways after graduation next Sunday. We’ll stay in touch, she told herself. For Pete’s sake, first up was Des and Jacob’s wedding in July. They’d all be together again in mere weeks at Des’s mother’s Martha’s Vineyard estate.