“Yeah. I’m sure Antonio told you that Mason showed up at her house and talked to her daughter Kelly, right? Kate said she told him about it.”

“So, you’re representing Vanessa and her sister now?” His eyes flashed with barely concealed frustration.

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“She knows me, and she wanted a lawyer. She wants me to get a restraining order to keep Mason away from her daughter.”

“And you agreed?”

“I agreed to look into it. A restraining order isn’t likely to be in the cards, given the circumstances of what happened. But I can at least fire off a letter on firm stationery. That gets us on record and should make him think twice before he goes near Kelly again.”

“I’m sure it will. It’ll also piss him off.”

“He’s already pissed off. That’s his default state. I’ve been trying to tell you—the guy’s got anger management problems. He doesn’t know how to take rejection. In fact, he doesn’t take it. He blows up and makes threats and gets violent and controlling.”

“Where are you getting this?”

“I talked to one of his ex-wives.”

“You—”

“Her name’s Christine and she lives in Tampa. You should talk to her, too. I can give you her contact info, if you like.”

Brandon leaned back in his chair and tipped his head back.

“What? I told you it was a lead worth pursuing.” She paused to watch his reaction. He looked exasperated. But also genuinely surprised that she hadn’t followed orders when he’d told her to drop the case.

She was more involved now than ever before, and that was just tough toenails for him. She wasn’t going to turn down business because something made him uncomfortable. She and Javi were building a practice, and they needed all the work they could get.

“Why did Kate go to you with this?” he asked, clearly unhappy that she had yet another tie to his case. “There’re a million other lawyers in town.”

“Because. Kate’s a worried mother, and the police won’t do anything.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“I know,” she said.

“No. Really. We can’t just arrest him over a conversation. At least, not the one she described to police.”

“I’m not being glib, Brandon. I get it. Crappy laws are the reason I have clients. Women are harassed and stalked and bullied, and oftentimes the police can’t do anything about it until it’s too late.”

She herself had been a case in point. But that was another thing she didn’t plan to tell Brandon about.

Leigh stirred her drink again and took a sip. When she glanced up, Brandon was watching her. His dark brows were furrowed, and he looked concerned.

And pensive. Nerves flitted in her stomach as she felt him trying to read her.

“Why do you do this work?” he asked.