Chapter 18
The yacht is full today, with various business associates and friends of Dieter. Kara recognizes most of them now, after all this time, but there are always a few new faces. Her nerves are frayed, because she hasn’t forgotten that Dieter told her Nick would be coming today.
Nick never goes on Dieter’s boating excursions.
It’s how she finds herself seated across from Gale, whose blonde hair is neatly pulled back to defend against the breeze as she works on making her notations on paperwork. Just beside her is the one and only Nicholas Havenwood-Calais, looking crisp and well-put together in casual yacht-style attire that Kara has never seen him in before. He looks good, that effortless Trust Fund Baby good. Annoyingly . His brown hair, catching sunlight in shades of copper. The pair are discussing various cases at their firm.
Kara does her best to keep her gaze away from him, trying not to stare or be caught checking him out. Even when she doesn’t find her eyes passing over him, his presence is like a hot brand in her mind.
He never goes on this damn yacht. Never. Why is he here now? God, and why after we had twisted, fucked-up phone sex? How am I supposed to look him in the face?
Every time their gazes meet, the only thing she can think about is how he sounded as he came on the phone call, his low growl as he touched himself thinking of her. How guilty and shamefully good it felt to touch herself, thinking of him-
Her face heats.
Kara feels self-conscious, a little detail that Dieter has clearly picked up on with amusement. With his usual charm, Dieter is next to Kara with his arm slung casually behind her on the seat. He’s warm, chatting with one of his friends, but his body posture speaks volumes.
He’s claiming her space and effectively, her . She wishes he wouldn’t, not in front of Nick-
Nick has no right to care , she reminds herself, catching Nick’s gaze by accident, seeing the look in his eyes. There’s something biting in his gaze. Jealousy, edgy and raw. He looks to Dieter’s position beside her, to Dieter’s proximity, and loathes it.
He’s the one who never wanted to commit and literally has a future wife.
“I’m so glad you graced us with your presence today, Nick.” Dieter is saying cheerily. “I feared I’d never make a sailor out of you.”
“And you never will. It’s always a pleasure to be in your golden company, Dieter.” Nick says it in his driest tone, eyebrows quirked. “But if you must know, I’m here for Gale, not you . Sorry to disappoint.”
Dieter dramatically clutches at his heart, glancing at Kara briefly. “Mortally wounded.”
Kara huffs with amusement to hide her hurt at Nick’s insinuation; that he’s not here to see her. She rolls her eyes. “Dieter, don’t clutch at your chest as if you have anything beating in there. We all know you don’t.”
That earns a few laughs from the gathered group, Dieter shifting in his seat to give her those anguish-filled puppy eyes. “How can you say something so heartless about me?”
“Because you are heartless,” Nick offers, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.
Dieter stands up, hands on his hips in false outrage. “I ought to toss the lot of you ingrates over the side of this yacht. Toss you like a kilo of cocaine before the cops sniff you out.”
Kara laughs and shoves at him playfully. With his grin renewed, he swats back at her. Nick’s smirk drips off his face like wax. Gale frowns curiously, pausing to make notes on a page, her lavender rings catching the sun in blazes of purple.
A sliver of embarrassment creeps into Kara’s guts. Gale hasn’t seen her and Dieter interact together in some time. The level of comfort between Kara and Dieter must be…unnerving. Nick, well, Nick already knows what sort of messed up Kara has going on with his least favorite friend.
The driver cruises them around for most of the afternoon while they work and drink, the men taking business calls, enjoying the sun and the view of the water.
It’s midafternoon when the ominous sound of Dieter’s phone going off fills the air, everyone looking at him to see his reaction. Conversations halt, everyone knowing the sound of his work phone ringtone. He doesn’t like being bothered on his boating days. A dark shadow crosses his features as he looks at the screen, answering the call. “Speak, now.” His tone bites, typical charm nowhere to be seen.
Within moments, he swiftly stands and moves away to a vacant side of the yacht. Everyone makes a face and goes back to having their own conversations, occasionally glancing at their mercurial host. His moods can easily swing and if he’s unhappy, he’ll make everyone else miserable as well in short order.
Kara grimaces, watching him.
Oh, lord. He’s cradling his phone between his shoulder and ear, lighting a cigarette. The call must be going poorly. Kara watches him from the distance, taking in the cut of his body, the tension in his shoulders. Dieter’s pale hair blows in the wind as he hisses into his phone, pacing the far end of the yacht with sharp gestures. The cigarette dangles in his fingers. “He’s such a chaotic twat,” Kara mutters, looking away from him, going over to the table full of food, picking at the vegetable platter.
One of his pals, Mallardy, if she recalls correctly, hears her, nudging another guy in their vicinity. “We call him controlled chaos,” he informs her with that rich frat boy manner in full swing. Informing her . “He’s always in control, but it’s always chaotic. He’ll either make you rich, or he’ll destroy you. And it’s completely up to him.”
The chucklehead in the Hawaiian style button-down agrees heartily. “Yeah. Remember what he did to Brax Neilson? I don’t know what he did to piss Dieter off, but damn, that was some scorched earth shit. Dieter went and made it his literal mission to bring down Neilson’s business…and he did.”
“Fucking awful that was. Dumped all those shares and tanked him. RIP Neilson, RIP.”
“It’s why you don’t fuck with a Bittinger.”
Kara feels her gaze shift between both men. “…Rip?”
Mallardy gives her an odd look. “Well, he’s dead. Offed himself after the bankruptcy went sideways.”
Kara blinks in what feels like slow motion. Refuses to think of finding her mother’s body on the ground, surrounded by razorblades and crimson. Doesn’t want to think of how she numbly tried to clean the floor before realizing she needed to call someone about the corpse.
“Like mother, like son,” Mallardy says offhand with a knowing look to Hawaiian Shirt, eating some items off the vegetable platter. The other man lifts his eyebrows in silent agreement. Kara looks between them, trying to understand.
“What do you mean, like mother, like son?”
The look Mallardy gives her says he thinks she’s being dim-witted. “You do know who Saoirse is, don’t you?”
Oh, God. That excruciatingly beautiful woman and her damn portraits glaring down at Kara from various walls of Dieter’s estate. Those wasteland eyes of green, empty of anything resembling a soul. “Of course, I know who Saoirse is-”
Stepping closer to her with a quick glance in Dieter’s direction, Mallardy lowers his voice. “But do you know the controversy surrounding her?”
Controversy? Ha, Kara doesn’t know anything aside from what Saoirse looks like. “I admit, I don’t keep up on the drama that may surround international supermodels. Who has the time for such things?”
Once again glancing at Dieter’s turned back, Mallardy whispers, “The camera and the fashion industry loved Saoirse at the height of her career, but anyone you asked who worked with her said she was a witch of the highest magnitude. That you never crossed her-”
Hawaiian Shirt Man waves off Mallardy’s words. “Get to the real point. The point about Paula Barudi’s accident.”
“The Accident. I think it was in the 80s? Anyway. Paula Barudi and Saoirse Bittinger had been having a public modeling feud, but that is tablestakes. The real meat comes when Paula Barudi died during an event due to exposure to peanuts in her meal. She was deathly allergic and all events and shoots were peanut free spaces when she was around.”
Kara frowns. “If she was that allergic, wouldn’t she have had an EpiPen on hand?”
Mallardy widens his eyes, voice still low. “That’s the kicker. Her family said she always traveled with it in her bag. It wasn’t there that day. It was listed as a freak accident, the one day she left without it on hand. My money though? She brought the EpiPen, it just wasn’t there when she needed it. By design.”
Kara digests this, looking between the two men giving her this wretchedly strange tale of model industry drama. Lowering her voice, so as not to be overheard, “Are you saying you think Saoirse orchestrated Paula Barudi’s death?” Madness. That petite woman and her little skinny bones?
Hawaiian Shirt shrugs his shoulders. “Never proven. Big controversy. Also, not the first time weird things happened to those that got into it with Saoirse.”
Mallardy snaps his fingers. “The runway model with the glass in her shoes! Who was that-”
As the men start gossiping again, Kara excuses herself, feeling like she fell into some rabbit hole that she wanted no part of. It didn’t sit well with her, talking about Dieter’s mother like this, behind his back. He never mentioned anything like this when speaking of Saoirse.
It’s none of your business , Kara thinks.
In a daze, Kara makes her way back to where Gale and Nick are still seated, working on various things. When she sits down with a sigh, Nick looks up from a document and gives her a stare. “Is your Client Boyfriend exhausting you?”
Gale’s mouth turns downward, hearing that, but she doesn’t interject.
Rubbing her fingertips into her closed eyes, Kara says, “He is exhausting, but not my boyfriend. He’s unequivocally un-boyfriendable.”
Snorting, Nick flips a page. “That sounds accurate.” Regardless of his snippiness, the tension seems to leave his broad frame slightly. He’s more at ease with Dieter not hanging off Kara like an amorous parasite.
Shifting in her seat, Gale looks between the two of them. “The pair of you never did tell me exactly how you two got off on the wrong foot.”
Kara feels her mind blank suddenly. It’s not like she can say, oh yes. I was drugged at a club ages ago and found myself wandering the streets on the bad side of town. He thought I was a hooker. Bad things happened. Did you know that Nick has a thing for nonconsent? It turns him on. No, she can’t say that.
Always one to be on his toes with his quick court reflexes, Nick answers. “We got after it in court once or twice. She has a temper. So do I. She made quite the impression.”
“ Pfft . A bad impression,” Kara replies with a smile. “On both fronts.”
It’s a comfort to see amusement warm his gaze. “Touché.”
“ Hm ,” Gale says, looking between the two of them. “When can she come work at your firm with me? I’d love to get her involved with some of my other, less overwhelming clients. Away from Dieter, if at all possible. They appear joined at the hip and it unnerves me.” She gives Kara an apologetic glance. “Sorry, it’s true.”
Kara gapes at her. She’s still trying to convince Nick to let her join his firm? To get her away from Dieter? Good grief, Gale.
Leaning back in his seat, shirt pulling tight across his chest and biceps, Nick appraises Kara with a careful look. Yes, he’s definitely in a better disposition now that Dieter is otherwise occupied. “I’m more amenable to having her interview for a position than I was a few months ago.” A wry grin pulls at his mouth. “If she can handle the Spoiled King, she can handle anyone.”
“Really?” Kara splutters in shock. After all they’ve been through, good and bad, he’s considering taking her on? A flicker of anger boils low though, because perhaps it’s just another ploy of his to get her closer to him now that she’s been out of reach.
Besides, she did once say she’d never stoop to working at his slimy firm anyway, there is that.
He’s opening his mouth to answer her when Dieter emits of loud groan of exasperation, ending his phone call. After a few moments of glaring out at the water, Dieter returns to her side with some semblance of collection, irritation lingering in his green eyes.
No one says a word when he sits down, not wanting to set him off. Nick momentarily looks like he might say something problematic to stir the pot, but before he can, his phone begins to ring. Nick sighs, pulling it out. He glances at the name and curses a bit under his breath. He gets up and moves away from the group, seeking privacy.
“Is that Delphine?” Dieter asks with a voracious sort of energy. There’s predatory excitement on his face, but the reason for it is unknown. It overtakes the former ill mood that had been hovering about him. “Tell The Judge I say hi.”
Delphine? Kara thinks, a bit green on the inside. Some new woman in Nick’s fucking lineup? The jealousy makes her think worse things. What has he been up to these months that he hasn’t seen her? Has he been out again, paying other women for what he can’t have? The thought hurts and sickens.
Nick answers the phone as he steps to the other side of the boat, giving Dieter a hateful look that sends chills down Kara’s spine. What on earth sparked that?
“The Judge?” Kara asks Gale in a hushed voice, confused. “One of those blasted friends on his damn payroll?” She’ll never be over how he screwed her on the Debra Mills case, getting the judge to dismiss the case after a private meeting.
Gale laughs and shakes her head. “No, not at all. Dieter is referring to Nick’s mother. She’s a big judge in the Northeast. Been that way for a while. She’s politically connected and worked her way up from her days as a top defense lawyer.”
Ah, that slightly explains the vicious look that crossed Nick’s face when Dieter said his piece. She can see Nick on the other side of the boat, talking on the phone, nodding, answering in what looks to be a curt and clipped manner. “I never got the impression that Nick got on with his mother.”
Gale presses her lips together momentarily. “I’ve never heard him talk about her, truth be told. But some men are like that.” She shrugs it off. “He’s not good with personal stuff, Nick.”
Hah . Kara has noticed that. He’s as good at emotions as rocks are good at floating on water.
Dieter makes the rounds around the different circles of people on the yacht, like a social butterfly. Eventually, he returns to Kara. He sits close, indecently so, and Gale once again presses her lips together, noticing. “I don’t pay you to make those faces at me,” Dieter says when he catches sight of the expression.
“You might not pay me for my expressions, but you will have them nonetheless,” Gale replies staunchly, pale eyes flashing.
Oh, jeez, Gale…
He rests his head on Kara’s shoulder briefly, making her face heat up. Why is he being this way in front of everyone ? Is he trying to make a goddamn point? “Don’t be so prude. She and I are friends , Gale.” He puts his arm around Kara’s shoulders, engulfing her in the scent of his airy cologne, drifting across the senses pleasantly. The faint hint of cigarette smoke clings to him now. “Kara and I get on famously. See?” He grins brightly, but that has no effect on Gale Clarke.
She’s used to his shit, obviously. “You are not behaving. You are being insufferable. Leave her be.”
Kara can feel his muscles tense and wonders if he’s about to have a tantrum. She’d like to avoid that. “He’s fine, Gale.”
Those pale blue eyes catch on her face, but Gale doesn’t respond. It leaves Kara wondering what has Gale so on edge. Kara’s fine, she can handle Dieter. He’s just…ridiculous. Most of the time.
When Nick hangs up the phone and heads back towards them, Dieter strikes again.
“What’s Mommy Dearest upset about this time?” Dieter asks, a sharklike grin playing about his lips. “Did you ask to set aside your engagement?” He pouts. “I imagine that would infuriate the selfish old bird.”
What?! Kara feels her heart twist about.
Looking furiously stony, Nick snaps, “Can you ever stick to your own business, Dieter? You’re worse than a New York gossip queen.”
“If I lived there, I’d be one ,” Dieter quips without an ounce of shame.
Gesturing to Dieter hanging off of Kara, Nick says coldly, “Do you ever leave your lawyer alone?”
“Why? Does it bother you?” Dieter’s eyes gleam.
Nick’s face goes blankly in neutral. “It doesn’t. It’s your unprofessionalism that chafes my hide. Hire your brainless plastic floozies if you’re lonely.”
Kara tries not to feel hurt, wishing he’d said it did bother him to see her with Dieter.
At those words, Dieter goes to light up another cigarette, which Kara promptly snatches from his mouth. When he glares at her, she says, “I don’t think so. Point that hot action elsewhere, I’m not driving back with a human ashtray in the car.”
He rolls his pretty eyes, scowling. “Fine. I didn’t want it anyway.”
Oh, sure. She allows him to have the final word, he’s on the edge with his mood.
They troll around on the yacht for an hour or so more before heading dockside.
When they depart, Nick stands beside her, off to the side. There’s something like disappointment on his face, as if she’s the one who has caused it. “Why are you looking at me like I took a shit in your lunch?” Kara asks bluntly, not liking the scrutiny.
“Do you think you’re still a good person?” He asks her suddenly. “That you’re the lawyer you intended on being? Defender of the poor and unfortunate?”
That rocks her back on her heels. Where does he get off asking a loaded question like that? “I mean, I don’t think I’m a bad person-”
He sneers a bit. “You always liked defending people who had been wronged. That’s your thing . You feel good being the savior for those that someone else has damaged. How does it feel, being the one defending someone who leaves damage in his wake?”
Never did Kara think he understood her that way. Superficially, she always enjoyed being a lawyer to duke it out, to get knee deep in a fight. The outlet for the fire inside of her. The reality is, she likes helping people who have been taken advantage of, or wronged. The way she was wronged as a young girl. No one was able to save her but herself.
“Are you saying I’m a bad person because Dieter is my client? That’s like saying Gale is a terrible person too-”
A scoff. “Gale doesn’t care if her clients are good or bad; she cares if they pay. You though?” He shakes his head, blue eyes boring into her. “You want it to mean something.”
Her mouth opens and closes, but there is no denying this fact. Kara never liked slimy lawyers. She never liked those who defended the clearly guilty. Lawyers like Nick. And now-
“There will come a day when you’ll remember I told you to watch your back,” Nick says, looking handsome in the dying light. The rich brown of his hair makes her want to run her hands through it. She wants to be wrapped in his strong arms. To feel safe and in danger all at once. “And you’ll regret picking him over me.”
With that, he steps away from her, leaving her staring after him in shock. “I haven’t picked anyone,” Kara growls under her breath. The damn nerve of that man, always assuming the worst of her!
Dieter is still on his yacht, chatting away with his pals, the center of attention as always, effortlessly holding court with his peers before they head home. Kara turns away from him and finds Gale with her bags, walking over to her car.
Frowning, Kara realizes they never said goodbye. A strange thing where Gale is concerned. She follows after her. “Hey. Gale?”
“Hey, Kara.” A weak smile. “Have a good time?”
There’s something off. Tension in the air. “Are you upset with me? Did I do something?” Kara asks her. Gale was quieter than usual the whole afternoon after seeing Dieter interacting with Kara.
The older woman, her mentor, sighs and checks her sparkling watch briefly. “Kara. I’m sorry. It’s not you. It’s Dieter. I…I warned you enough times not to let him get close…I just don’t like seeing him behave that way with someone I respect.”
Awkwardly, Kara rubs the back of her neck. “You know how he is. He just…weasels his way close. And he’s so personable when he puts his mind to it.” And funny. And fun. And gorgeous-
Pity briefly flashes across Gale’s features. “I do know. That’s why I warned you to keep a wall up at all times. Now, you’re wearing a collar. He’s holding the leash.” Gale’s voice is serious before she departs. “I hope you see that, friend.”