Chapter 19
NATHAN
“And that’s everything you need to know.” Vivienne Cavendish flashes me a toothy grin that makes her look every inch a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
I throw Arianna, who is sitting next to me, a knowing look, mentally informing her that Vivienne has been lying since the minute she walked into the boardroom.
Arianna gives me a slow deliberate nod, confirming she understands.
We have this intangible connection I can’t explain; we don’t need words to know what we mean. After last night’s dinner, it feels stronger today.
I wish I had kissed her again last night.
Why didn’t I?
Idiot.
She’s here working for me because she wants to, and she wants to help make a difference. That’s what she said last night, and I know she means it.
We value the same things.
I look down at the questions Vivienne has left unanswered and ask the first one at the top of my list. “You said you told a member of the cabin crew about Henry’s allergy just before you boarded the flight?”
“Yes.” She threads her fingers together on top of the table.
The slight shift in her demeanor tells me she’s hiding something. The shaking of her head that said no mismatched her words when she said yes , is a dead giveaway that she’s lying.
I press her for more information. “And yet, the statements from each of the cabin crew all said the same thing.” I read out one of the sections I highlighted before today’s meeting. “‘Mrs. Cavendish did not inform me or any of the crew of any allergy . ’ That correct?”
“Not true. I did.” Her rapid eye blinking combined with the tapping of her fingers against the tabletop confirms she didn’t.
And when I feel a slight tap of Arianna’s foot against my ankle, I know it’s her way of talking to me without saying anything. Vivienne thinks she has us fooled.
I prod her further. “Isn’t it standard practice for passengers to inform the airline of any allergies during the booking process?”
“Not always,” she replies defensively.
Another lie.
I ask something that’s been bothering me that’s not on my notepad. “Was it normal for you to book Henry’s flights?”
“Not always.”
I suspect it was never.
“Who usually took care of booking Henry’s flights and organizing his schedule?”
“Um, his assistant.”
“But on this occasion, you did?”
“Yes.”
I fire a quick question at her, one I’ve already asked, but I ask her in a different way. “And this is the only one you ever booked?”
“Yes.”
Bingo.
“Sorry, I didn’t understand the question to begin with, that’s not what I meant. I mean, it was one of the many I booked. I liked being involved with?—”
I don’t let her finish. Her babbling and overexplaining scream “liar” much louder this time.
I push my seat back, indicating the meeting is over. “I think we have all the information required. You’ll hear from us in the next two to five days by letter.”
“So, you’ll take the case.” Vivienne looks like the cat that got the cream, a gigantic smile shaping her lips, and it’s not a question; it’s a presumption.
“Like I said, we’ll be in touch.”
Her honeyed reply sounds like it’s laced with poison; it’s unsettling. “You won’t regret this. Thank you, Nathan.”
I would regret it, and that’s why I will not represent her.
Vivienne pushes her designer purse up over her shoulder and walks to the door at the same time as I do so I can see her out.
“I saw your name on the list for The Connecting Kids Ball,” she purrs, the saccharine tone making my skin crawl.
I nod, not confirming or denying my attendance.
“If you don’t have a date, would you like to come with me?” she asks, eagerness written all over her face. She twirls a lock of blonde hair around her finger, looking nothing like the heartbroken widow she said she was when she entered the room.
Even the sound of her voice sends chills up my spine. I’d rather eat glass than go out on a date with Vivienne. The night I slept with her, I’d had a bad day in court and lost my case. I wasn’t thinking straight.
It was a long time ago but the regret I have still lives on.
I ignore Vivienne’s question as Arianna makes her way around the boardroom table.
“I’ll see you out, Mrs. Cavendish,” Arianna informs Vivienne, surprising me as I’d planned to do that.
Arianna elegantly wafts past, and at the same time Vivienne shamelessly asks me again, “I’m assuming you don’t have a date, so what time will you pick me up next Friday?”
“I’m his date.” Arianna jumps in, sounding strong, confidence bouncing off her, making my brain glitch.
What?
But also, hell yes.
I school my emotions, hiding my surprise at Arianna’s outburst.
“Sorry, Vivienne,” I say, not sounding one bit apologetic but smug as fuck. “I already have a date.”
Vivienne looks Arianna up and down, flaring her nostrils as if envious that she’s not as naturally gorgeous as my enchanting secretary.
“This way, Mrs. Cavendish.” Arianna ignores Vivienne’s death glare, sounding every bit professional, and she side-eyes me sheepishly before urging Vivienne to follow her to the elevator.
Did Arianna not like the thought of me going to the ball with another woman? Is my little siren jealous? Fuck, I think she might be.
“Have a good day, Vivienne.” I wish her well. I hope she gets everything she deserves. A prison sentence, preferably.
“See you at the ball,” she replies with a flirty finger wave.
I hope not.
I pull a fake smile then turn my back on her, ending the meeting, and my shoulders drop with relief when she leaves.
Gathering up my notes off the boardroom table, I wait for Arianna to return.
If she’s coming to the ball with me, I’ll make sure it’s a night she never forgets.
“That was a good initial consultation.” Her sweet voice, which I’ve become addicted to, fills the room.
“It was.” I straighten up, pushing my shoulders back, and stare at her intensely. Her big beautiful eyes are my undoing. If only she knew how much I crave her and how much I want to take care of her, she might change her mind and let me into her life.
She has no idea the effect she has on me and how much I like a challenge, but she can only resist me for so long, and I guarantee she’ll be begging me to take her home after the ball.
I told her she was coming as my secretary, nothing more, but I’m sure she saw through my lie. I’m as transparent as a jellyfish in clear water.
For one night, I can be a gentleman, can’t I?
“Let me know your decision about Vivienne and I’ll draft a letter.” She tidies up the cups and saucers and puts them in a neat pile.
“I’m not taking the case, Arianna.” I’d rather chew on a hornet’s nest.
Her forehead creases as if she wasn’t expecting me to say that. “You’re not?” she asks.
“She’s lying.”
Arianna nods her head in agreement. “I know, I just thought that since you know her and you have history, you know, having slept with?—”
“Do not finish that sentence. Whatever you heard my brothers and me talking about, it was a one-time thing and it happened a very long time ago. It’s not something I’m proud of.
I don’t represent liars,” I add. “Especially one I suspect murdered her own husband.” The fucking moxie of the woman coming in here thinking she could hoodwink me makes me sick to my stomach.
My words halt her in her tracks, and she stops mid-reach to pick up her laptop off the table. “I think she did too,” she whispers. “And you’re not going to represent her?” she asks, clearly needing me to confirm my stance.
“If you don’t know by now how we operate at Hart Law, Arianna, you haven’t been paying close enough attention. We represent the good guys.”
“Not everyone is good. How can you be so sure?” she fires back.
“After a while you get to know people, work out how they operate, read body language.”
“Did you learn that from a book?”
“No. From my father.”
She scrunches up her nose, the same way she does every time someone says something she doesn’t agree with.
“What did I say that annoyed you, Arianna?”
“Nothing.” Clearing her throat, she rubs the end of her nose before lifting her laptop off the table.
“I just think that you can’t say with complete confidence that every person we represent now or even in the past is, or was, a good guy.
” Slowly, she moves to the door. “Not every time.” Her voice is much smaller now and there’s hurt in her eyes, and something else I can’t quite work out, which I hate.
She hides her pain well and after learning that she lost her family in a car crash, it has been gnawing away at me. I want to know what happened, but I don’t think she’ll give up the information. Not easily anyway.
I straighten my spine, confident about who we represent.
“Every day, when we were growing up, my father would have me and my brothers recite our key values and code of ethics. It was drummed into us. Everything we do here at Hart Law is by the book and we do everything within our power to uphold my father’s mission to provide exceptional legal representation with integrity. ”
I couldn’t have been clearer, but the way she’s looking at me makes it seem like she’s struggling to process what I said—confused, annoyed, maybe both?
I drive home my point. “I would never, not in a million years, take on a client like Vivienne Cavendish. If my father was standing in this room his decision would be the same as mine.”
“So what you’re saying is that you’re a stand-up guy, as is your father?”
It surprises me that having worked here for some time she can’t see that.
I reply, “Absolutely. I believe in honesty. I’m dedicated to the justice system and upholding my father’s high ethical standards.” And I will die on that hill.
“Did your father retire?” she asks, raising a perfectly plucked brow.
“Sort of.”
“What does that mean?” She taps her fingers against her lip, her voice thick with curiousness.
“That’s a story for another day.” I move on, preferring not to talk about my father; it’s too painful. “In the meantime, I have two things I need you to do for me.”
“Name them.”
“Schedule lunch with Deputy Chief Philip Robbins. Tell him it’s to discuss information I may have on a suspected homicide.”
“Vivienne?”
“You learn fast.”
“But you don’t have any evidence that she was involved with the death of her husband.”
“That’s not my job to investigate, Arianna, but the police department might just need a nudge in the right direction.”
She grants me a giant smile and I about melt on the spot. She’s breathtaking and I think she likes that I’m a man of my word.
“And what’s the second thing you need me to do?” she asks.
I take a step closer to her, bow my head, and move my lips to her ear to whisper in it. “Buy a dress for the ball.” Preferably one that’s easily removed. “And put it through expenses. I’ll pick you up at seven next Friday.”
She angles her head, her eyes locking with mine. “I can pay for my own dress, Nathan.”
“It’s for work. It’s an expense. Don’t argue with me.” It’s not for work, it’s all for me, because I’m a selfish and devious bastard when it comes to her.
“Well, then if it’s for work, I’ll accept your offer. I’ll buy the most expensive dress I can find.” She inches back a bit and studies my face. “I’ll be ready at seven next Friday.”
Her continual nettlesome jabs make a smile pull at my lips. Verbally sparring has become the thing we do best. Well, sex together is something we’d win Olympic gold at, but linguistic acrobatics we’d win silver for sure, no doubt about it.
“Buy the most expensive shoes you can find too,” I counter. “You’ll be the most captivating woman in the room.” And everyone will know she’s with me.
Mine.
I might just be buying her a dress, but I would buy her the whole fucking boutique if it meant I got to see her delectable curves wrapped in the finest material money can buy and show her off to the world.
When they see us together, they’ll know who she is to me.
Because I’m the boss, and I can change the rules anytime I want.
My decision.
I’m tired of fighting how I feel, but I’ll spin the white lie for a little longer that she’s attending with me as my secretary, when in fact it couldn’t be further from the truth.
I want her.
All of her.