by Megan Ryder
“I didn’t have to come from outside. I work here. I just took the elevator to the top floor. Why didn’t you call me?”
“I tried. It went to voicemail. So, you were working late?” His tone held a note of censure but she chose to ignore it. He pulled his hand away and she mourned the loss of connection.
“I always work until seven or later. Damn, I left my cell downstairs. Nice suit.” She glanced back at him, quickly noting the nice fit of the suit.
Normally seeing him in jeans or casual clothes hadn’t prepared her for how sexy the suit would look on him. A low hum of arousal that had started with his touch simmered hotter. It had been too long, she’d been too busy with work to find some personal time. Maybe she needed to make the time before the wedding.
“You were very specific when you called.”
His voice was neutral but the undertone was still there and made her pause and stare up at him, wondering what the problem was.
Louise turned her attention back to them. “What do you do, Grady?”
He smiled. “I’m a contractor, mainly houses and renovations, but I specialize in historic preservation.”
She cocked her head, speculation in her gaze and Brigid went on alert. “You mean like museums?”
“No, I take old houses and renovate them to historical accuracy.” Grady took a sip of his beer casually, not picking up on the subtle put-down.
“I see. Is there a lot of business in that?” Peterman asked, skepticism in his voice along with a note of judgment.
Brigid tensed and opened her mouth to step in but Grady replied smoothly. “There can be, especially in the midtown area. But it’s a small market, which is why I do other work. Building houses, doing renovations.”
“Really? Houses? Do you do additions and formal living rooms?” With a slightly predatory expression, she drew him away, linking her arm with his. “I have a few people to introduce you to, plus a potential business opportunity. You don’t mind, do you, Brigid?”
Their voices faded as she led him towards a group of people at the other side of the room, Brigid watching in bemused silence and concern. She wasn’t worried about Grady. He could handle himself with any crowd, only this group was more predatory than he might be used to, and she’d hate to see him insulted or treated poorly because he didn’t work in a lofty office like they did.
“Well, it looks like Louise may have found her contractor and I’ll have a few checks to be writing. Brigid, will we see you tomorrow in the office or are you leaving early?”
Terrence smirked at her. “I’ll be there.”
Grady looked across the room at her, a hint of panic in his eyes. Looked like he realized the crowd was less interested in his business than he’d thought. She grinned and picked up the not-so-subtle challenge from Terrence, even though she almost always worked on Saturdays. “Of course I’ll be there. I have a few small loose ends to wrap up. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll rescue Grady. Gentleman.”
She walked across the room and, as promised, she rescued Grady from a group of women, feigning a need to greet her boyfriend appropriately. She drew him into an alcove in the hall. He reached for her and leaned down to press a kiss to her lips. She slapped a hand to his chest and pushed him away.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Greeting my girlfriend?” He pulled back and frowned at her.
“We’re not dating. This is just a favor since Mike couldn’t make it.”
“Mike?” He growled, brows furrowing. “Who the hell is Mike?”
“A guy I went to law school went. He works in the DA’s office. He usually goes to these events with me but he had a case or something tonight.”
“On a Friday night? Oh, wait, he’s like you. All work and no play.” Grady scowled. “When are you going to lighten up and learn there’s more to life than work?”
She glared at him. “Look, all I need is for you to pretend to be my boyfriend and not make any other business connections, especially no jobs, okay? I can’t afford for you to be working for one of them and they find out this is all fake.”
“Don’t worry. Have you heard about Louise Peterman’s kitchen she had done last year? I mean she asked her contractor to tear down a load bearing wall because it got in the way of her Feng Shui or something bizarre like that.” He shuddered. “The woman has high maintenance written all over her. No thanks.”
“Well, see that it stays that way,” Brigid grumbled.
She started to slip by him but he slapped a hand on the wall, holding her in place. He lowered his head and forced her to look at him. “Now, about this Mike guy. I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”
She scowled at him. “I’m not seeing him. He’s a friend and it’s a business arrangement. Neither of us have time to date so we go to business functions together. It’s no big deal. Now, can I go?” She crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently.
He dropped his arm and stepped back. “Fine. But this isn’t over.”
“It is for me.”
*
As soon as they reentered the party, Matthew called for Grady to introduce him to some of the partners, leaving Brigid alone to navigate the room, just the event she had been trying to avoid. A date was the perfect foil for her social anxiety but she couldn’t get in the way of brothers, especially when one of them was the reason for the evening. A low rumble in her stomach reminded her she hadn’t eaten since the small salad at lunch, which was several hours ago. And scotch on an empty stomach was a recipe for disaster, in more ways than one. She made her way to the buffet, where several appetizers and finger foods were laid out, stopping dead at the sight of the one of the partners all alone, filling a plate.
Elizabeth Wardwell was an older woman, in her fifties, attractive in a stern schoolmarm way. Her hair had once been black, now liberally streaked with white, the classic salt and pepper coloring. It was cut in a blunt bob at her shoulders and straight bangs across the forehead, adding to her no-nonsense attitude. She was a tough partner on the interns and junior lawyers, but fair, and acted as a mentor to some of the women lawyers including Brigid. But ol’ Barracuda Betty, as the juniors all called her, was a ball-buster and no one wanted to be on her bad side. Peterman was bad enough, but Barracuda? Brigid shuddered. Even she made Brigid nervous.
Before she could turn and be swallowed up by the crowd, because even starvation wasn’t enough for Brigid to face Barracuda, the other woman turned and saw her. She arched an eyebrow, her version of a summons. Brigid froze, then pasted a polite, but deferential smile on her face and approached the woman, wishing she dared down the rest of the scotch but it would cause bigger pain for her and her stomach if she did so. So, she squared her shoulders and walked the remaining few steps to the other woman.
“Ms. Anderson. I hear good things about you from Bill Peterman, which is a feat in itself since it’s well known that he’s fully invested in the old boys’ network. Well done.”
The note of approval tinged with disdain confused Brigid so she settled for a very neutral response. “Thank you, Ms. Wardwell. I’m gaining valuable experience with Mr. Peterman.”
“You’re lucky he lets you do anything at all. So, either you’re incredibly competent or your colleague is incompetent. So, which is it?” The older woman waved a hand. “Never mind. It will all be sorted out eventually. I met your young man. Coughlin’s younger brother, isn’t he?”
Bewildered by the sudden change in topic and not sure if she should have been offended or not, Brigid said the only thing that came to mind. “He’s not my young man. Just a friend.”
“Interesting choice of partners, Ms. Anderson.” Elizabeth picked up a plate and walked over to a tall table on the side, leaving Brigid no choice but to follow.
“How so, Ms. Wardwell?” Again, with the neutral responses.
No wonder she didn’t choose a litigator’s role. She must sound like an idiot to the polished partner. She took the last sip of her scotch, praying it
would lend her some courage for the rest of the conversation, wishing she had more in the glass.
The woman studied her intently, as if weighing a decision. Finally, after a few long moments, she nodded. “Our life is not an easy one, Ms. Anderson. Women in a male-dominated world. Power players. We’re either bitches or bedmates. Now, I don’t see you as a bedmate so that leaves one option. No matter how you act, if you want to get ahead, you’ll have to accept being called a bitch. Can you handle that?”
“What does this have to do with my choice of partners?” Brigid asked, taking the bold step to question the partner while she seemed approachable.
“With men, it’s easier. Traditionally, they marry a woman who is the perfect hostess, knows how to work the room at parties, and deal with the everyday life. With women, our challenge is finding a man willing to be that person for us, willing to support our careers without feeling threatened or intimidated by our success. Now, if both parties are career minded, you have a different problem. Who will back down if you decide to have a family? One party always has to give in. Or you take two different paths and one day you wake up and find out that you have nothing in common. Or maybe you find out he’s been doing his assistant at lunch and your marriage is over. Do you understand?”
“Not really.” She decided on honesty.
Supposedly, it was always the best policy, although in this case, she wasn’t so sure. She really didn’t know why the partner had decided to unload on her right now and she was worried this was a trap of some sort. Experience had taught her that advice was never free and everyone always had an agenda. What was Betty’s?
“Can your young man handle the long hours, the stress, and the demands of your job?” She arched her eyebrow and tapped a finger on the table top.
“Well, first off, he’s not my young man. He’s just a friend. Second, he’s a contractor, so he has his own business to think about.” Uncomfortable with the questions raised by the woman, Brigid decided to deflect. “To be honest, I haven’t really thought about this much at all.”
“I like you, Ms. Anderson. No need to look so terrified. I know what the junior lawyers call me. Barracuda Betty. I’m proud of that name. I see a lot of me in you and I think you could be an excellent lawyer. But you have some personal decisions to make. Are you prepared to do that? Do you know what you want?”
Sensing it was not a rhetorical question, especially as the silence dragged on and people milled about them, giving them a wide berth, Brigid considered her words carefully. Finally, she said, “I haven’t thought about the future much at all, not beyond making partner.”
Elizabeth stood, wiping her hands on her napkin carefully. “You’d better consider it. The law makes a very cold bed partner and you should make your decisions now while you have a choice. Your partner will be in a position to help you or hurt you. Your promotion doesn’t only rely on your work but on your connections and on the cases you can bring into the firm, cases coming from your contacts. A contractor might not be a position to help you in your future here at the firm. He’s a nice young man and has done well for himself, owning his own business and carving a niche out for himself. But ask yourself this. What can he offer you for your future?”
She turned to walk away and Brigid held up her hand to stop her. “Ms. Wardwell? Do you ever regret your choices?”
Elizabeth turned around, a guarded look on her face. “Of course not.”
Why didn’t Brigid believe her?
Chapter Two
Grady shook hands with yet another partner at the firm and avoided the openly curious looks from the wife. He’d already been asked for three business cards and questioned about his extra services, beyond his contracting skills. He hid the shudder behind a bland smile and explained that he had run out of business cards. He could have gotten some great business at this party but the potential complications for Brigid and for Matthew just weren’t worth it. Besides, he had enough business for the next couple of seasons and a waiting list for work into next year. It galled him and his bank account to turn down business but the predatory gleam in a couple of these women’s eyes confirmed the decision for him.
After making polite exiting remarks, Matthew steered Grady towards the bar and gestured for a couple of drinks. He leaned casually against the high bar and scanned the room.
“Thanks for coming, tonight. I know how busy you’ve been and taking next week off is not easy for you,” Matthew said.
Grady shrugged. “How often does your brother get married? Twice, three times?” He flashed a quick grin at the sour look his brother shot him. “Seriously, my crew can handle the jobs here and I have the one to finish on Whitby anyway. You sure Caroline doesn’t mind me doing some work while I’m out there?”
Matthew’s lips tightened for a brief moment then relaxed. “She asked the whole wedding party out for the week before the wedding as some sort of reunion for all of us. We haven’t really seen each other in four, maybe five years. I know you weren’t part of our group back then but she wants you included, wants to bring you into the family. So, you can escape for a while but not long. Even I can’t bring work with me.”
Brigid strode into view, headed for the buffet table, and Grady’s eyes tracked her. Matthew studied him for a long moment. “So, you’re here with Brigid? How long has that been going on?”
The words were casual and nonthreatening but Grady sensed an underlying tone that he couldn’t quite place. Matthew had introduced them four years ago, while Brigid was in law school. Grady sensed Caroline was looking for another couple to hang out with, especially when Matthew was so busy building his law career. Matthew was trying to reconnect with the brother he hadn’t seen in more than a decade thanks to the clusterfuck that was their parents’ divorce and their mother’s abandonment of her younger son, Grady. He and Brigid hadn’t really warmed up to each other, being too focused on their own businesses and not seeing much in common with each other, but fate and a matchmaking friend kept throwing them together and one night, alcohol and repressed sexual tension combined to create an explosion of lust and desire that both realized they did have something in common. And so a friends with benefits relationship was born.
He didn’t really date, even though they never had an exclusive relationship. He had no idea if Brigid did. Knowing how many hours she worked including weekends, he wondered if she had time for it. So, the relationship, such as it was, worked for them. Only now, with his business settled, and Brigid heading into her third year at the firm, he was starting to think long-term. Could they have a future together?
“Grady?”
Brigid had been cornered by an older woman and her face had gone carefully blank. Her work face, he often called it. The mask she put on when she had to be scrupulously professional and not let anyone see the woman inside.
“Who is that woman with Brigid?”
Matthew let out a soft laugh. “Damn. Ol’ Barracuda Betty. Elizabeth Wardwell, one of the partners here. She scares the hell out of just about everyone. She sort of watches out for some of the female lawyers but she’s not a mother figure. She can be just as tough if not tougher on them. She just makes sure they’re treated fairly.”
“Should we rescue her?”
Matthew mock shuddered. “Hell no. I like my balls right where they are, thank you very much. Besides, I have a couple more people to introduce you to.”
He handed Grady a beer from the bartender and grabbed his own scotch and steered his brother towards an older couple standing several feet away. The older man was leaning down to listen to the woman, who had her hand on the crook of his arm, head tilted up to speak with him. They weren’t lawyers, not mingling with the lawyers in the crowd, but they clearly were comfortable in the environment. Their clothes reeked of money and she wore tasteful jewelry that didn’t come from a low-end department store.
As if sensing their approach, she turned and a broad smile crossed her face, hands raising as if about to hug Matthew. “Matthew! We�
��re so proud of you, honey. And, Grady?” Her eyes widened and her hands dropped.
Grady’s feet stuttered to a stop as he faced the woman he hadn’t seen in several years. The woman who had abandoned him after her divorce from his father. The woman who chose his older brother and didn’t care enough about him to even see him.
He pivoted on his heel and walked away. Not even for Matthew could he endure this meeting. Not tonight.
*
Grady stormed out of the large room and into a hallway, the door closing behind him, shutting out the noise from the reception. His head spun from the sudden confrontation with his past. Dammit, he should have known she would have been here. Her son had made partner. She wouldn’t miss that, no matter how many times she missed her younger son’s events, birthdays, graduations, never mind his daily life.
Grady would have to see her at the wedding, and he hadn’t yet figured out how he’d deal with that. He’d shoved it so far in his mind that he had basically forgotten about it but the shock of seeing her had felt like a physical slap in the face and he was completely unprepared for it and his own reaction. He sat on a bench in the hallway and took several deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart. He had to go back in there. Brigid would kill him for running out like that. But he needed a minute. Or ten.
The door opened and he braced himself, expecting Matthew. It closed again and someone sat on the bench next to him. He glanced over to see Brigid. He hadn’t expected her to leave her partners, where she was supposed to network, just for him.
“Well, I know lawyers are boring but I never thought you’d break speed records to get out of there. What happened?” For once, her tone wasn’t biting or demanding. Instead, it was soft, almost questioning.
“Did Matthew send you out here?” His voice sounded raw to him, gravelly and painful, as if yanked out of the depths of his soul.
She shook her head. “I saw your face. Trust me, that is not a look I ever want to see on anyone’s face again. What happened?”