Daddy's Girl: A Daddy Issues Novel by Rebel Wild (books to read for 13 year olds .TXT) 📕

made going to work back then worthwhile, even on my most stressful days.

“I don’t give a damn about anyone else’s agenda, Mona,” I told my office manager. “I’m going to be there at nine on the dot and I expect the team to be ready with their reports.” I hung up with her.

We had a high-profile murder that turned the public eye toward my office and with that came a whole lot of damn scrutiny. I didn’t know what it was that brought out the nutcases, but I missed the days when all we had to worry about was a few drugged-out celebrities doing community service.

On top of that, it was an election year. I’d been the district attorney for three years and I wasn’t about to drop the ball when it took too much to get there. I already had to overcome the stigma of being the son of a convicted sex offender. That was more than enough.

I glanced down at my phone when I heard the familiar ring of Portia, checking to see if we were still on for that night. I ignored the call. She knew better than to reach out to me. If and when I needed her, I knew how to call her. Truth be told, I needed a good working over after the dream I had that night. I woke up feeling horny and frustrated, but it had nothing to do with Portia and everything to do with a certain teenager I couldn’t get out of my head ever since her father started working for me a year prior.

I thought it was the stress I was under. It had to be. What thirty-something man would find a teenage girl attractive? The ones I’d put in fucking jail, that was who.

Yeah, it was the stress all right. I needed a goddamn vacation. Images of Sydney laid out on a yacht in a bikini filled my head. Jesus, I was out of my mind.

I made a left on Temple Street, turned into the court building, and pulled my Jag into my parking space. I nodded at the sheriff doing the security checks at the door as I walked past. I had fifteen minutes before my meeting started so I grabbed a coffee and a Danish at the shop on the fifth floor before I went up. I could have easily got Mona to make me a cup. She bragged about her so-called skills, but her coffee tasted like liquid shit and it still does. She could never get the coffee scoop to water ratio right and she still can’t.

“Anything else I can get for you?” The barista asked as she handed me my cup.

“Something sweet,” I told her. “Surprise me.”

“Oh, okay.” She laughed before going to the back. She came back with a small pink box and handed it to me. “It’s a cherry Danish. I hope you like it.”

“I’m sure I will.” I winked at her before taking it and leaving.

I ran into Roger Warren at the elevators.

“Mr. Garrett,” he said. “Good morning.”

He held the doors so they wouldn’t close as I walked through them.

“Did you offer Hal Decker the deal?”

“I did, but he’s got Nate Tate as his lawyer now.”

“What made him come crawling out of the woodwork?”

“The media coverage. He wants to take this thing to trial so he can become the next Johnny Cochran.”

A woman entered the elevator with a juror badge on, preventing us from saying anything more about court cases. We separated at the upstairs lobby as I went to my office.

“Morning, Mona.” I walked past her desk, holding up my coffee so she wouldn’t get me a cup. She followed me in. “Is my schedule clear for this morning?”

“All but Chief Green,” she said, putting the stack of briefs on my desk that I’d asked her to pull. “He wants you to give a statement for his one o’clock news conference.”

“What about?”

“The Hal Decker creep who strangled that actress and dumped her body up on Mulholland Christmas day. He just wants you to make him look good.”

“We have people to handle press conferences. He knows that. I can’t personally pat him on the back every time he arrests someone. Have Rhoda in public affairs call him. I have my own problems.”

I set my cup of coffee down and took a bite of my Danish before dumping my phone on my desk and shrugging out of my suit jacket, hanging it on the back of my chair. I walked over to the conference room for my meeting.

“Morning all,” I told the seven deputy assistants that gathered around the oval table. “I’ll make this quick. I know you have cases on the docket you’re trying to prepare for. The press is kicking our asses. We have more people walking out of our jails than going in and crime is on the damn rise. I can’t control what the chief does to catch the criminals, but do we have to just open the courtroom doors and let them walk out of here? The seven of you are on a losing streak. It’s time you bank into a climb. I want to know what you all are working on, who your judges are, and what you think your chances are of winning.”

I listened as each one laid out their cases with hands to God, swearing they’d win. I’d heard it all before and I wasn’t impressed. I dismiss all but Roger.

“Just a heads-up,” I told him. “Chief Green’s giving a news conference today about your case.”

“Who told him to do that?”

“Like he’d listen if we said not to.”

“At least we pulled Judge Lee,” he said, walking with me toward my office. “He’s a tough son of a bitch, but he leans toward the prosecution.”

“I’m more worried about the jury selection. All it takes is one jaded lover to feel sorry for this guy killing his girlfriend.”

“Can you blame him? She was a real piece of work.”

“Yes, I can blame him and so will