Perfect Partners(31)
Author: Carly Phillips

Chelsie nodded and the woman stepped back to allow Griff to lead her through the waiting area into his office. Despite the wariness in the woman’s eyes, Chelsie noticed a regal bearing, a notch of pride that hadn’t yet been taken from her.

Watching them precede her, Chelsie saw their surroundings as if for the first time. A worn couch, plush but unobtrusive beige carpet, a small reception area, a coffee machine and water cooler. Except for the massive oak desk he’d taken before leaving his old partnership behind, Griff’s private office looked much the same.

She suppressed a smile. Until now, she hadn’t realized how Griff had decorated to suit his new clientele. No luxuries to make those without feel out of place, but chic enough to allow people with money to believe they’d sought out an equal in their attorney. Much like the downstairs unit he and Alix called home, this place spoke of class that had nothing to do with status and everything to do with its owner.

Chelsie waited for the woman to seat herself before settling in the chair next to hers. Instead of retreating behind his imposing desk, Griff chose a spot on the couch. The woman seemed to relax a bit. Again, Chelsie had to commend his instincts.

“Would you like to take off your coat?” Chelsie asked.

The woman shrugged off an expensive-looking burgundy silk jacket, proof that spousal abuse crossed economic and social boundaries. How well she knew that. “Mrs…” Chelsie paused. She had forgotten to check Griff s appointment book for the woman’s name, if she had even given it.

“Amanda.”

“Okay.” From experience, Chelsie knew that being on a first-name basis gave her clients the impression of anonymity while they decided whether they trusted her enough to tell all. “You called us, Amanda, so what can we do for you?”

“I know I set this appointment up with Mr. Stuart…”

“I can leave you alone if you’re comfortable now,” Chelsie offered in a soft voice. Inspiring trust was the only way to insure a client’s confidence.

“No!”

“Okay. Why don’t you start at the beginning?”

The woman gripped the edges of her chair until her knuckles turned white. “I have a little boy,” she whispered. “If it weren’t for him, I don’t know if I’d be here.”

Chelsie nodded. “I know this first step was difficult. How old is your son?” Chelsie asked.

“Three. And I don’t want…”

Silence surrounded them, but Chelsie waited. She hoped Griff would take his cue from her and do the same. He leaned forward in his seat, but remained quiet.

Slowly, the woman unbuttoned one sleeve of her cotton blouse, lifting the cuff to reveal angry bruises on her arm. “I’ve lived with this for so long, but I couldn’t bear it if he hurt my little boy.”

Though she felt the heat of his gaze, Chelsie refused to look at Griff. He knew when they’d become partners he’d be taking on cases like these, and she’d promised her expertise from the beginning. But that had been before she’d revealed her own personal history. His request had been based on her experience with battered women. Now that he knew she fell into the category of the abused, Chelsie couldn’t cope with his pity.

She forced herself to focus on Amanda, to look at the bruises, so similar to the ones Chelsie’s own husband had left on her upper arms.

“It takes courage for you to be here, Amanda. Where’s your son now?” Griff asked.

“With a friend.”

“Okay. What do you want from us?” Chelsie asked. The words, the decision had to come from the woman herself. No one could force her to press charges or file for divorce or any of her other options unless she wanted to. Chelsie had learned that from personal experience as well.

“I left three days ago, when I first called you. I’m staying with a friend, but I can’t put her in such a compromising position much longer. Every time the phone rings, I jump. Each time someone hangs up or breathes heavily, I think it’s him.”

“You have options,” Chelsie assured her. “The first is to continue to stay with friends or relatives, but I tend to agree with you, and I don’t recommend that for now.”

The other woman nodded.

“The second is a much more difficult decision, but wiser in the long run. There’s a women’s shelter. I volunteer there, so I know it well. You’d be safe and your friends wouldn’t be in any danger. Once we decide how to proceed, depending upon the course of action we take, you could always return home or to a friend or family member.”

Amanda’s face went pale at the mention of the shelter. Chelsie had been right. The concept drove reality home. Sometimes, facing the truth, realizing you had to rebuild a life alone, was more difficult than an actual physical beating.

“Do you have any money?” Chelsie asked. Despite the woman’s expensive clothing, whether she’d managed to leave with any personal belongings or cash was anybody’s guess.

“Not much. I still have my credit cards, though.”

“No. No paper trails.” Chelsie took the woman’s hand. “Do you trust me?” she asked.

“Implicitly.” Amanda spoke without hesitation.

“Good. Then we have to do things my way. Not only for your safety and your son’s, but also for the courts. Agreed?”

Amanda nodded. Griff rose and seated himself behind his desk, pulling out a legal pad and pen.

“We’ll need some information,” he said, refocusing on work.

After drawing a deep breath, Amanda nodded. “Okay.”

“I need your full name.”

The other woman looked towards Chelsie, who nodded in encouragement. “Amanda Davis…” She hesitated before continuing. “Amanda Davis Sutton.”

Chelsie’s vision blurred and she sucked in a deep breath. Coincidence, she told herself. A brief glance told her Griff was jotting down pertinent information.

“Your husband’s name?” Griff asked.

“Jeffrey Sutton.”

Chelsie glanced at Amanda, hoping she was wrong. The other woman met her gaze and nodded almost imperceptibly.

Jeff Sutton. Nausea roiled in Chelsie’s stomach. The one slice of dried toast she’d managed to choke down for breakfast threatened to come back up. She swallowed over the lump in her throat and asked, “How long have you been married?”

“Four and a half years.”

Griff continued to take notes. He hadn’t yet appeared to notice anything amiss.