Read Online Bannon Brothers by Janet Dailey - Free Book Online Page B

opposition.
    He stretched out his long legs and waited, but there was no getting comfortable on this thing. He looked around at the tasteful, nondescript framed art on the paneled walls and the potted palm, its luxuriant fronds as well-groomed as everything else. The atmosphere of affluence and privilege was almost suffocating.
    The glass doors swung open behind him. Two men walked by and Bannon had a chance to scope both of them out for a few seconds. One was tall and powerfully built for an older man. Hugh Montgomery. The other—the short one—Bannon pegged instantly for a lawyer. He had on an Armani suit and a gold watch so heavy Bannon was surprised he could lift his hand to wave to the receptionist.
    â€œHello, Mary. Any calls for me?”
    She tore off message slips from a spiral-bound book and kept the carbon copies underneath. “Here you are, sir. Your one o’clock is here.” She nodded in Bannon’s direction.
    He was already standing when both men turned around.
    He met the gaze of the taller man. Hugh Montgomery was older and balder than the photos Bannon had seen of him, but he still possessed a masterful air. He looked the part of a modern-day Virginia aristocrat. Old school. Wealthy. The kind of man who appeared in the winner’s circle at major horse races or profiles in upscale magazines. His eyes held a fierceness that Bannon had somehow expected to see.
    â€œHello.” Montgomery extended a hand and Bannon had to shake it.
    The attorney was next, coming over to where he was and clapping him on the shoulder. “Mr. Bannon, you are punctual. My apologies. This is Hugh Montgomery, of course. First names, everyone? Hugh, RJ. Were you waiting long? Come into my office, gentlemen. Mary, hold my calls.”
    Bannon went with him, keeping exactly to the side of Hugh Montgomery. He didn’t want those eyes boring into the back of his head.
    They reached Olliver’s private office, which at least looked like a working office, although it was about the same square footage as Bannon’s condo. The vast desk was piled high with stapled documents and other paperwork. More stacks were on the floor. But there was a cleared-off table in one corner and armchairs arranged around it. Maroon leather, of course.
    â€œMake yourselves at home, you two,” Olliver said. “Be right there. Sara!” he called through the open door, then turned to them. “Anyone besides me want coffee? There’s tea too. Or bourbon, if you prefer.”
    â€œNothing for me, thanks,” Bannon said.
    Montgomery echoed his words. His voice was deep, with a weary edge. He rested a large hand on the table. Bannon got the impression of controlled power—barely controlled. The older man was drumming his fingers on the surface.
    The lawyer came back with a cup of coffee that the office manager handed through the door. He set it on the table and took the chair between them.
    â€œSo why am I here?” Bannon decided he might as well get to the point.
    Olliver stirred his coffee with a spoon. “We saw the segment after it aired. Actually, a colleague alerted us. My client wanted to know more. Needless to say, he has a few questions for you.”
    â€œGo ahead.”
    The lawyer set the spoon to one side. “I should explain that he wanted me to be present. It’s been years—you understand.”
    Bannon didn’t. But he followed Montgomery’s lead and let the lawyer do the talking. Olliver was getting paid for his time, no doubt. Bannon wasn’t.
    â€œNo adversarial intent. This isn’t a deposition or anything, you know. Just a friendly chat.”
    One with sharp teeth, Bannon thought, catching a glimpse of the shark behind the lawyer’s affable smile. “Okay.”
    â€œWe wanted to know, first of all, if you were officially reopening the case.”
    The case. Neither man had mentioned who was at the heart of the case: Montgomery’s