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  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Synopsis

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Other Books by KG MacGregor

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Bella Books

  Synopsis

  When a coed is viciously assaulted on the campus of Harwood University, performance studies professor Celia Perone learns a brutal truth—star athletes can get away with whatever they want. Threatened with her job if she goes public, Celia pays a secret visit to celebrated women’s rights attorney Theodora Constantine.

  Theo’s riding high after winning a very public sexual harassment claim against a cable news network. Next up for her firm is a class action suit that will strain her small staff. She can’t afford to get sidetracked by another case, but Celia won’t take no for an answer.

  The case is compelling and so is Celia—so much that Theo finds herself falling hard. But before they can win love, they have to win justice.

  Copyright © 2016 by KG MacGregor

  Bella Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 10543

  Tallahassee, FL 32302

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  First Bella Books Edition 2016

  eBook released 2016

  Editor: Katherine V. Forrest

  Cover Designer: Judith Fellows

  ISBN: 978-1-59493-492-6

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Other Bella Books By KG MacGregor

  Anyone But You

  Etched in Shadows

  The House on Sandstone

  Just This Once

  Life After Love

  Malicious Pursuit

  Mulligan

  Out of Love

  Photographs of Claudia

  Playing with Fuego

  Rhapsody

  Sea Legs

  Secrets So Deep

  Sumter Point

  T-Minus Two

  The Touch of a Woman

  Undercover Tales

  West of Nowhere

  Worth Every Step

  Shaken Series

  Without Warning

  Aftershock

  Small Packages

  Mother Load

  Acknowledgments

  In every publisher’s toolkit is something called the “All Persons Fictional Disclaimer,” a standard paragraph reminding readers they’re embarking on a work of fiction, that any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. That applies here.

  And yet…sometimes the events seem all too common for any of us to claim they were conjured solely from the writer’s mind. A 2015 study by the Association of American Universities found that almost a quarter of women on campus had been victims of sexual assault or sexual misconduct; eleven percent reported penetration by force, threat or incapacitation. By conservative estimates, that’s over one hundred thousand women, one hundred thousand stories. Far too many to conclude the events in this book resemble only one.

  Like most of you, my understanding of the legal process comes from television. Since nearly all of that is wrong, I turned to fellow Bella author and real-life attorney Erica Abbott for guidance. She tried valiantly to keep me from embarrassing myself, but no one’s perfect. Any errors you find are mine alone.

  Thanks as always to my Book Machine: editor Katherine V. Forrest; my cleaner-uppers, Karen Appleby and Jenny; and all the crew at Bella Books.

  Chapter One

  “Make room for the lady with the money!” Theodora Constantine squeezed down the hallway with their payment.

  The conference room at Constantine and Associates held a table that seated thirty-two. It wasn’t unusual for every chair to be filled during a strategy meeting, since Theo took only the most important, most visible civil litigation cases. Prominent clients, pressing social issues, nearly all related to women’s rights. In fact, the firm was predominantly women, and racially diverse, as were most businesses in Atlanta.

  Today, the table was overflowing with congratulatory flowers and buckets of champagne on ice. Every major case culminated in this room, either with a celebration like this one or a soul-searching assessment that took on the pall of a wake.

  Theo waved the courier’s envelope high above her head as she entered. “Whose turn is it to do the honors?”

  All eyes fell upon paralegal Jalinda Smiley, a plus-sized African-American in her thirties, whose name bore no resemblance to her usual gloomy face. Of the forty-six people who worked in their high-rise office in downtown Atlanta, Jalinda was by far the quietest, the most mysterious. Superb at her job, she rarely interacted socially with her co-workers.

  “You can skip me. Go to the next person.” Typical Jalinda, shunning the spotlight.

  Theo had expected that and was ready with the next name. “Kendra Kershaw then. Step right up and tell us what we’ve won.”

  Kendra, tall and angular, shimmied through the group to snatch the envelope. A striking, dark-skinned woman twenty years out of Emory Law School, she was a partner at the firm. Her caseload typically focused on issues of special benefit to women of color. She was taking the lead on their next big case, a class action suit charging BoRegards, a regional family restaurant chain, with wage theft.

  She ripped open the envelope and read aloud, “Seven million, six hundred thousand dollars and zero cents.”

  A cheer erupted around the room. That was their settlement with TNS Cable News on behalf of Teresa Gonzalez, a female reporter who’d been fired after breaking off an extra-marital relationship with the network’s lead anchor. Theo had argued the firing was the result of sex discrimination. The case had dragged on for over two years, with Theo demanding reinstatement, lost wages and punitive damages large enough to head off such behavior in the future. When it became clear from the evidence that TNS likely would lose in court, they’d negotiated a settlement. Constantine and Associates would collect a third of the total along with a subsequ
ent check covering expenses. A handsome payday for a small firm like theirs, one that would bring a surge of positive publicity.

  Corks popped one after another and clear plastic cups were filled to the brim. They’d share thirty minutes of revelry, after which most of the crew would get back to work on the wage theft case.

  As Kendra waved the check around, Sandy Thornton snatched it out of the air. She’d been Theo’s accountant for ten years, and her miserly attitude was the reason the firm was on solid financial footing.

  Theo raised her glass in a gesture to a young woman across the room, Sabrina Dawson, who’d served as her second chair on the case. An attractive brunette with an athletic body, she’d cut her teeth on last year’s sexual harassment suit against a defense contractor. Originally from Savannah, she had a charming demeanor that allowed her to connect with a jury of Southerners. After six years at the firm, she was bringing in her own clients and on track for promotion to partner.

  And unfortunately, off-limits for anything else. Though Sabrina identified as bisexual, Theo didn’t need a sexual harassment suit of her own.

  Philip Vogel, the other partner, and one of only five men in the entire office, clinked his cup against hers. “Another home run, Theo. You had them on the ropes from day one.” An avid triathlete, he could hardly express himself without sports metaphors.

  “Come on, it was one of the most blatant cases I’ve ever seen. Jalinda could have won it.” In fact, she’d encouraged her favorite paralegal to go on to law school, but Jalinda was content to remain in the shadows. “That was a brilliant move, by the way, linking the anchor’s salary to punitive damages. It gave the jury a solid rationale.”

  An expert in valuation, Philip worked on every litigation case to justify the amount of actual damages and punitive awards. He had a gift for knowing what a judge or jury would find reasonable.

  No matter how important their casework, Theo was determined to keep the practice small and manageable, focusing not on billable hours but on the importance of their mission. “It’s a firm, not a farm,” she always said. A family atmosphere made for loyal employees who would stick around and grow. Together, they’d be judged by their body of work and the social strides they made, not their ambition.

  On days like this, she considered herself the luckiest attorney in Georgia. Thanks to the dedicated work of her handpicked staff, she was, at thirty-nine, already a millionaire several times over, a luxury that allowed her to choose only those cases with the potential to shake up the status quo for women. Her high-profile work had made her a national celebrity and frequent guest on cable news. That notoriety, coupled with her made-for-TV looks, had once earned her a mention as one of People magazine’s 100 Most Beautiful People.

  But she wasn’t without controversy. Her reproductive and lesbian rights cases always guaranteed rowdy pickets at the courthouse, as did her status as an out and proud lesbian. She took pleasure from knowing her victories and accolades made her critics’ heads explode.

  As she sipped her champagne, Theo scanned the room for her longtime friend and advisor, Gloria Hendershot. Gloria, now in her mid-sixties and working as a part-time consultant, rarely missed a settlement celebration. A renowned women’s studies scholar from Atlanta’s Harwood University, she provided the research and historical context they needed to make their clients’ stories resonate. For plaintiff Teresa Gonzalez, she’d shown with statistics the difficulties women encountered in securing similar employment in the television news industry after having been let go.

  “Have you seen Gloria this afternoon?” Theo asked.

  Philip shook his head. “She said something about an alumni luncheon with the board of trustees. She was bummed when she heard the check was coming in this afternoon.”

  “Coming through, coming through.” Theo’s administrative assistant Penny Lowrey held her arms out to part the crowd as she snaked her way across the room. “Theo, there’s this…a person in reception who says…they need to see you, and only you. But they won’t say what it’s about. And they won’t give their name.”

  A person who was a they. Theo was intrigued, but she rarely spoke with walk-ins because she’d been burned twice by celebrity stalkers hoping for an autograph or photo. “Did you suggest they call back and get on my calendar?”

  “There’s something different about him…or her, maybe. He’s kind of feminine…but trying not to be.” She leaned in close enough to whisper, “I think it might be a man transitioning from a woman.”

  * * *

  Celia Perone straightened her necktie and tucked a loose strand of hair back under her fedora. The disguise came courtesy of the theater department’s wardrobe, and was undeniably a ludicrous charade. She couldn’t risk being recognized, not at this critical point in her career.

  “You can wait here. Ms. Constantine will be with you shortly.”

  She gazed around Theodora Constantine’s plush office with interest. It had all the personal touches of someone in the lofty role of champion of women’s rights. A framed cover of Ms. magazine celebrating one of her victories…smiling photos with Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Meryl Streep and Gloria Steinem. Those were in prominent positions behind her desk, clearly placed so potential clients would know how important she was.

  As if the woman needed any more publicity. She was a fixture on cable news talking about her cases and providing expert commentary on issues relevant to women or the LGBT community.

  The large mahogany desk held a laptop computer and phone, along with a small framed photo propped in the far corner. Against her better judgment, Celia stepped around the desk for a better look. It was Constantine with three young men. While the woman’s blond hair, cut to her collar in soft layers, set her apart, it was obvious the four were siblings from their strong jaws and deep-set, crystal-blue eyes.

  Celia wondered if the men in the family had made their mark in the world the way their sister had. It took a special kind of upbringing to produce a woman capable of arguing before the Supreme Court at the age of thirty—albeit four years older than Sarah Weddington, who, at twenty-six, had argued the landmark abortion case Roe v. Wade. Constantine’s case was Crossman v. The Town of Jeffersburg, Georgia, which set a precedent regarding maternity leave. Jeffersburg had held open its city manager’s position until assistant manager Kimberly Crossman went on leave, after which they hired a man under her supervision, one who lacked her experience and qualifications.

  What impressed Celia most wasn’t that Crossman was handed the promotion and back pay. Rather, the sweeping ruling had put cities across the country on notice that the practice would not be tolerated. That’s why Celia had come to Constantine and Associates—she needed someone to make waves, someone who could take on a case with a sledgehammer that would strike fear into every university in America.

  Voices in the hallway startled her and she scurried from behind the desk to take a seat in one of the wingback chairs upholstered in deep green.

  Constantine entered and closed the door. She was larger than life in person, her hair lighter, her eyes brighter. Already taller than most women, she wore heels that made her even more imposing. A navy blue dress, its high round collar draped by a string of pearls, hugged her slender body like a diver’s wet suit.

  “Hello, I’m Theo Constantine. How may I help you?”

  Celia took the offered hand, noticing the woman’s eyes as they drifted downward, likely in response to the incongruous softness of her skin against the absurdity of a man’s dress. “I know what you’re thinking.”

  “Perhaps not,” she replied, a small smile turning up from the corner of her mouth.

  “I look ridiculous, but I promise you there’s a good reason for this getup. I can’t let anyone know I’m here.”

  The attorney guided her back to the chair, and instead of moving behind her desk, turned the adjacent chair to face her. When she sat, she crossed a leg comfortably and placed her hands in her lap as if ready to chat with an old friend. “In this
day and age, it’s hardly unusual to see a woman dressed as a man…or vice versa. I already assumed you had a good reason.”

  Even with her experience onstage in costume—playing everything from a medieval witch in MacBeth to a drag king in Victor Victoria—Celia couldn’t help feeling ridiculous in front of such an accomplished woman as Constantine. Especially since her disguise had crumbled the moment she opened her mouth.

  “I was worried about security cameras. They’re all over your building. You never know who has access.” She listened to herself and sighed. “Shit, now I sound paranoid. Maybe I am.”

  “What brings you here?”

  “Okay, I’m an idiot.” Celia removed her hat and shook free her shoulder-length dark hair. Then she loosened her collar and tugged off the necktie in hopes of also shedding her lunacy. “I’m Dr. Celia Perone. I teach performance studies at Harwood University. The disguise is because I’m up for a promotion this year. Full professor. I can’t afford to jeopardize that, but I have to tell somebody what’s going on there. It needs to be stopped.”

  “Something related to your employment?”

  “No, it doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

  It was unlikely Constantine had heard of Hayley Burkhart, a lovely, talented performance studies student with a smile so grand it could be seen from the balcony. Her suicide had come the same night the Harwood Hornets had won the national championship in basketball. Atlanta’s media, focused on the celebration, had relegated Hayley’s story to less than an afterthought.

  * * *

  Though she’d known all along Celia Perone was a woman, Theo was stunned by the transformation when she removed her meager disguise. There was something familiar about her face…the sparkling green eyes and dainty, round lips. However, the name didn’t ring a bell. She certainly would have remembered a woman so attractive.

  “One of my students killed herself last week. They found her in the bathroom of her sorority house the night Harwood won the basketball championship. She’d slit her wrists and bled to death. Hayley Burkhart was her name. I don’t suppose you read anything about that?”