Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Lana got through the first few days of trial without much incident. They selected a jury and empaneled them. Then came the first witness: a retired detective who was one of the first to respond when some surfer kids found Heather’s body.
Wayfair had been behaving himself, so far. Lana had mentioned to him that she’d gotten into a fender bender, and the lawyer had seemed completely unfazed. If he’d had something to do with the man following them, then he had the best poker face Lana had ever seen.
Wayfair was a prominent lawyer, but he got by mostly with bullying and throwing obscene amounts of money at a case. There was no way he was that unflappable. So, she had to assume that Wayfair hadn’t been behind the harassment.
The last she’d heard from Sylvie, they still hadn’t found any new leads as to her stalker’s identity. Reviews of surveillance cameras around West Oaks had turned up images of the man and the car. The vehicle, however, bore stolen plates from Oregon.
Her stalker was out there, somewhere. And she had no clues as to whom he might be.
Yet as Lana arrived back at Max’s building on Friday, after the fourth day of the trial, she felt optimistic. The testimony had been going well. She thought she was developing a rapport with the jury, and Wayfair’s attempts to rattle her or make her look stupid had made several of the jurors frown.
Four days of the trial down, about two weeks to go. It might end earlier, but then, the jury would need to deliberate.
Devon had been driving her back and forth to the courthouse. In fact, she’d hardly seen Max at all since their argument in the conference room.
“Anybody home?” Lana asked as she exited the elevator and walked into Max’s apartment.
Nobody answered. Max wasn’t here, and that was just fine with her.
First, she went to her makeshift office. The space had become an unofficial war room for her trial team. Max had sent someone to gather her things, and Trevor had been coming back-and-forth whenever they weren’t able to accomplish everything by email or phone.
Lana had already conferenced with Trevor that day at the courthouse, but she’d thought of some new legal research she needed over the weekend. Lana sent off an email, making the request.
Then she changed out of her suit and into a soft knitted top and leggings. After washing her face and brushing her teeth, Lana felt like she was emerging from a stupor.
She walked into Max’s spacious living room. Through the windows, the sun was setting over the ocean.
Max’s apartment was quite a contrast to hers.
Where her place was simple and homey, awash in beige and gray, Max’s looked like the lobby of a fancy downtown L.A.
building. Metal and leather chairs that came straight out of some vintage designer collection, and abstract artwork that could’ve been in a museum.
He had a massive kitchen filled with every appliance and convenience, from the commercial-style refrigerator to the Italian cappuccino maker. She ran her fingers over the quartz countertops, breathing in the citrusy scent that some housekeeper had left here during the day.
Lana was in the mood to take a break. Maybe even celebrate. Nothing that would jinx the presentation of her case, but just enough to reinforce her confidence over the small wins she’d made, despite all her difficulties.
She opened Max’s wine fridge. Lana rarely saw him drink, so she assumed it was for his guests.
She found a bottle of rosé and poured herself a glass.
Then she went back over to the bank of windows overlooking the water and watched the sun set.
The sky was turning orange, and the clouds were like tufts of pink cotton candy.
“Nice view.”
Max was behind her. She hadn’t heard him come in. But she didn’t turn around.
“It is.”
“It’s even better up on the roof. Can I show you?”
She figured it wouldn’t hurt. Lana took her glass of wine and followed Max up to the rooftop.
Lana stepped out into the open air. “I didn’t know this was up here.” The sun was nearly down. The roof had a panorama of water, city, hills. All of West Oaks lay before them. The sun looked like it was sinking into the ocean.
Max was wearing a suit. She tried not to notice how good he looked. He loosened his tie and took off his coat, tossing it onto one of the outdoor couches.
“This view is a big reason I bought the building. I should’ve given you the full tour at the start of your visit. Sorry I neglected that.”
“I doubt I would’ve gone on your tour anyway. I was too angry.”
“What about now?”
She shrugged, sinking onto one of the upholstered chairs, and raised her wine glass to her lips. “Now, I’ve got four days finished on the trial and a bit of a buzz going. I’m feeling slightly more reasonable.”
He sat on the next chair over. Not close enough that they could touch, but close enough that she could study his features.
He had more stubble on his cheeks than usual.
His eyes looked more bloodshot, with dark half-moons beneath.
She worried that he wasn’t sleeping. Hopefully, it wasn’t because of her presence in his space.
“I appreciate you making room for me here. It took a big weight off my mind not to have to worry these past few days about anything except the trial. And…I’m sorry I yelled.”
He smiled, though it wasn’t his usual vibrant expression. “And I’m sorry I came across as an arrogant ass. I am one, but I try not to let it show quite that much.”
She lifted her glass to show that he was forgiven. “You’ve been busy the past few days, too. Anything exciting?”
He sighed and pulled off his tie, then started rolling up each sleeve.
“Trying to hire some new people, since we’ve been growing here a little faster than we can keep up with.
Meetings… Nothing that’s the least bit exciting, now that I think of it.
” His gaze drifted into the distance, like this admission disappointed him. “What about the trial?”
“I’m feeling really good about it. The jury likes me, I think, and there haven’t been any surprises or problems. You’re still on schedule for Tuesday.”
“Do you want to go over my testimony again?”
She shook her head, taking another sip. “Nope. You’re ready. I think we may have to talk about something other than work. I’d bring up Aurora, but I haven’t seen her, either.”
Out of an abundance of caution, Aurora was staying with Devon’s family while he was busy being Lana’s driver this week. None of them actually thought Lana’s stalker was after her. But Lana felt better knowing Aurora was surrounded by people who cared.
Max leaned back and stared up into the darkening sky.
“Maybe you could share whatever’s bothering you?”
He turned his head to look at her. “That obvious?”
“You seem tired. You aren’t your usual energetic self.
” Lana got up and sat on the edge of his chair.
It was an oversized piece of furniture, plenty of room for her, even with his large frame.
But she was significantly closer. Close enough that he could’ve touched her with a flick of his wrist if he’d wanted.
She offered him her wine glass. He took it. Max drank the pale pink liquid, his eyes locked on her the whole time. She felt her nipples hardening against her bra.
What the hell am I doing? she wondered.
But she knew. She’d always been drawn to him. That was exactly the reason she’d stayed away and put up walls between them for so long. She was still in love with the man.
Right now, the simple fact was that she hated to see him looking sad.
“It’s like I’m going through the motions lately. And I don’t know why.”
“You don’t know why you’re expanding the business and hiring new people? Or…”
“Why I work so much. Why I can’t slow down. Why I…fight some things so hard.”
“That is a lot of questions.”
“You can see why I can’t sleep.”
“Oh, Max.” She gripped his shoulder, massaging the tense muscles there. “I didn’t know you weren’t sleeping. I’ve heard you coming and going, but I guess I’ve been hiding away in my room.”
“You were busy. So was I. It’s okay.” He drained the glass. “And now I drank all your wine. Let’s go get you some more.”
As they descended the stairs, she felt his fingers brush the small of her back. But it was so quick she couldn’t be sure it was intentional.
Max refreshed her glass. “Have you had dinner yet?”
“No, your kitchen scares me.”
“Then what have you been eating since you got here?”
Lana tried to remember. “Trevor’s been bringing me takeout. Aside from that, tortillas with cheese warmed up in the microwave. That’s one of my go-tos.”
He gaped at her, horrified. “Haven’t you ever heard of a vegetable, woman?”
“Isn’t salsa a vegetable?”
Shaking his head, Max opened the fridge. “My last grocery delivery was a couple of days ago. I should have all the ingredients I need...”
“So that’s how this stuff keeps magically appearing inside your fridge.” Delivery was an efficient choice, but usually Lana couldn’t even spare the brain power to place an order ahead of time.
He started pulling out bags and containers. “I’m going to make you a spinach lasagna.”
She set the wine glass on the counter with a clink. “You wanted to make pancakes for breakfast a couple weeks ago, and now it’s lasagna for dinner? Really?”
The morning after they first had sex, he’d made blueberry pancakes. And that same evening for dinner, he’d made lasagna. Right before their second night of lovemaking.
She clenched her thighs together at the desire those memories elicited.
“Maybe that’s all I know how to make.”
He hadn’t learned any new tricks in ten years? She doubted it.
His eyes were both perceptive and mischievous.
He knew exactly what he was doing. Trying to force her to acknowledge the reference.
Talk about their past. Why? She couldn’t say.
But Max wasn’t the type to toy with her emotions on purpose, so clearly, he didn’t realize the effect those memories still had on her.