“Bull.”
He tried to end the discussion. “Look, I’ll ask her to dance. Okay?”
“Dancing is a metaphor here. You can figure something out. She’s worth it.”
“I’m working on it, Katie.”
“Work harder. I like her.”
“I like her, too.”
Kate twisted fully into his arms, gave him one of her signature hugs. “I knew it.” she giggled. “Have some fun, Mr. Attorney. Life’s short.”
His sister was right. He scanned the room. Beverly was speaking to John and Serena. He made his way through the crowd. He didn’t want anything unpleasant to touch her tonight. It looked like he had a bit of lawyering to do after all.
“Hello, Beverly.” He inclined his head to the others. “John, Serena, how are you this evening?”
Serena’s face pinched, but her fake smile was in place. “Let’s just get the picture taken and then we can leave, John.”
Ignoring her, John extended his hand to Finn. “It’s a pleasure to see you again. Bev was just telling us her plans to redo the apartment and offices downtown.”
A hint of annoyance lit his eyes before he smiled. Finn wondered who had annoyed the man. “I hadn’t heard. I bet that’ll be quite a project.” They were all being rude, ignoring Serena, but the woman wasn’t even trying.
Bev reached for his hand to shake. “It’s nice to see you again. And, yes, I decided this week to make some changes. It will help me be more effective and efficient. It isn’t as big as it seems, though. I’m having Reginald’s things put in storage so Auntie Serena and my mother can sort through them.”
He couldn’t stop the grin as Serena gasped. His client knew exactly what she was doing. Giving Serena a project like this was a genius idea.
“I didn’t realize you’d want me involved.” Serena’s knuckles whitened on her black clutch.
“I believe in employing experts, Auntie.” Beverly took a glass of champagne from a waiting server. “You would know best how to sort Reginald’s things.” She toasted the air with her glass. “It is an effort to try to move on.”
Serena’s mouth finally closed. Her hand shook as she reached for her glass. “Thank you. What’s been done so far?”
“My mother is conducting an inventory of everything, and Ms. Garrett is assisting. Her expertise has been invaluable.”
John cleared his throat. “Thank you. I’m sure you need to mingle. Serena and I wish you the best with the renovations.”
“Oh, it’s nothing. Just some paint and new furniture.” Beverly lifted her shoulder. “I needed a desk that didn’t threaten to swallow me whole.” The group laughed, and she gestured to a waiting photographer. “How about we get to that picture now?”
Finn stepped back as Beverly, Serena, and John smiled for the camera. Mission accomplished. When Serena and John took their leave, he couldn’t resist any longer. Striding toward her before someone interrupted, he took her hand in his own.
“That was very smooth. Now, how about a dance, Ms. Winslow?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Isn’t this against your rules?” The now familiar heat warmed her hand as he led her to the dance floor. He looked good. Really good. No man should look this good in a tux. It wasn’t fair.
He launched her into a dramatic spin and then pressed his body close as he led her across the floor. The strength of his arms and chest under his tuxedo jacket made the laughter die on her lips; instead, all she felt was desire. They fit perfectly together. She looked up at him, and finally he spoke.
“Haven’t you heard rules are made to be broken?” He traced a light path with his fingers down her spine.
She let the delicious thrill wash over her. “That isn’t your style.” How badly did she want to flirt with him? How far would he go? How much could she take before she needed him too much? She decided to test the waters. “But I’m all for a change of style. So now you’re a rule breaker?”
“Not exactly. Remembering the rules is difficult when I look at you in that dress.”
Her stomach fluttered. Jesus, she had to pull it together. She was acting like she’d never been complimented before. “You’re not so bad yourself, Counselor. So we’re on a different playbook tonight?”
He caressed her back and guided her around the floor. Their bodies were far enough apart for propriety, but he gently pressed her a fraction closer to him. Her face was warm.
“I am not a tight-ass rule follower,” he said. “Give a guy a break. It’s not in my nature to swim against the current. That’s your style.”
“What does that mean? I’m unusual? Or weird?” He thought she was odd. Why did that hurt? Embarrassed, she tried to step back.
He held her close as he stared down at her. “Not so fast, sweetheart. You are the most unusual woman. You put yourself through school. You’re a success in a male-dominated field. You just inherited a fortune you tried to turn down. You wear an evening gown as if you were born in it, and there isn’t another woman alive who wears jeans and boots the way you do.” She gasped and opened her mouth to argue. “I’m not finished, Ms. Winslow.” His voice was commanding, and it was doing strange and wonderful things to her libido. His full lips drove her to distraction.
He never missed a step as they glided across the floor. “You were almost blown up. Clearly, someone is trying to kill you. The fact you’re here instead of curled up in a ball is beyond comprehension. In short, you are incredible, and it’s knocking me off my game.”
She had no words. No one had ever said anything like this to her, with the exception of Megan and Ma. It felt a lot different with him. She tried to lighten the mood but found she couldn’t.
“Thank you.” It was the best she could do.
“You’re welcome,” he whispered into her ear. “Now I’m just figuring out what to do with you.”
She pushed him away from her. “You don’t get to do that.”
“Actually, much to your obvious aggravation, I do.” He spun them again. “You get to decide what to do about me, too.”
“Ahhh. I have some ideas on that subject, but I’m thinking you won’t enjoy what’s in my mind.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “So you’re doing the cocky thing now?”
“Is it working?”
How could she resist that dimple? “Just dance, Counselor, and I’ll let you know.” She gave him a flirty wink of her own.
His eyes darkened. “You’re dangerous.”
“I’m taking that as a compliment.”
“You should.” His eyes scanned the room as they danced.
“Looking for someone?”
“Your security detail. Are they here? I’ve spoken to Tracy a few times, but I don’t see anyone in dark glasses or FBI black.”
“It’s a party; they’re wearing party clothes. And I don’t like the idea of you monitoring my security.”
“Tough. You don’t get a say on that one. I worry. So I check.” He led her off the floor as the song ended. “Speaking of worry…Where are your mother and Joe tonight?”
“Nice subject change.”
She let it go. She wasn’t going to fight with her attorney in public. What was the point anyway? She couldn’t stop him. “My mother and Joe aren’t limelight people, so they opted out. He's in Salem. My ma supervised the event set-up, and now she’s upstairs in the house, poring over files. I’m going to gradually ease her into handling the Foundation, but it’s too soon right now.” At his raised eyebrow, she shrugged. “What? I’m allowed to appoint someone to help.”
“I know the dictates of the will. I’m just surprised you’d feel comfortable doing that. I thought you wanted your mother out of this completely.”
“That isn’t realistic anymore. Besides, my mother is taking all this better than I am. She’s been amazing. She gave Joe the job of setting Atlantic Charters to rights, which he’s pretty much done. We even put up a temporary office. It’s nic
er than the original.”
“So what’s your mother doing while Joe heads up Atlantic Charters?”
She followed as he led them to one of the bars situated in each corner of the tent. He ordered two flutes of champagne.
“She’s kind of taken over as my personal assistant.” She couldn’t stop the laugh. “Personal manager is more like it. Ms. Garrett is still handling all the Winslow Holdings issues, and Ma is running the redecorating, dealing with the household stuff I know nothing about…And I feel selfish admitting it, but it’s a load off. I was wrong about how well she’d handle all of this. It still feels selfish, though.”
“It’s not selfish. It’s smart.”
“Well, I’m trying to get used to asking for help.” She took a sip. “It’s uncomfortable attempting to change my entire personality. I don’t ask for help normally. I don’t wear evening gowns as a general rule either, so it’s baby steps for me. I at least have to give the impression I belong.”
“On the contrary. I think I just mentioned you look as if you belong anywhere. You fit beautifully, despite your feelings on the matter. No one can tell you felt awkward.” He led them to a high-top cocktail table.
She noted the white roses in a low, crystal vase and the romantic candlelight. The event was beautiful. She didn’t expect the pride that came with the realization. She hoped they got a good write-up in the society pages and raised a lot of money. People needed to see nothing had changed for the Winslows.
“So what was the deal with John and Serena?”
“She wasn’t playing as nice as I’d like before you came up to our little group. John can barely contain her. She won’t really be working with my mother, but I needed to give her an occupation, and it makes them think I’m trying to rebuild burned bridges.”
“Genius idea, and also a dangerous one. You have no idea who is behind the threats to you.” He clenched his fist around the stem of the glass.
“I don’t see a lot of solutions bubbling to the surface. So I’m doing what I think is right.”
His head swiveled as some party guests walked by them. “You’re neglecting your guests, but I need just a few more minutes of your time, Ms. Winslow?” He spoke loud enough for several others to hear.
“Certainly, Mr. Callahan.” She matched his professional tone, and then lowered her voice to a near whisper. “What the hell was that about?”
“I don’t want people to get the wrong idea.”
Her face burned. “What idea? That we like each other or we’re friends?” She stepped back from the table. He grabbed her wrist. “Attorneys and clients can be friends. They’ve even been known to dance together without jumping each other.”
“Don’t do that. I’m protecting your reputation and my own. One dance and this ten-minute conversation will add several inches to the gossip columns tomorrow. You don’t want that.”
“How do you know what I want?” She whispered. He had yet to let go of her wrist, and he was slowly circling his thumb around her pulse point. It was driving her crazy. She looked around the tent and saw no one observing them.
He leaned down to speak in her ear. “You want what’s best for the company and your family. So do I.” His breath on her cheek made her lean closer, waiting for his words. “You want me, and I want you right back. We need to decide.”
“I thought you’d already decided for us.”
He smiled, continued his lazy circles along the inside of her wrist. Her heart rate jumped.
“Lawyers can change their minds too.” A bartender made a beeline for them. Finn abruptly dropped her wrist and stepped in front of her.
She patted his arm. “This is one of my security team.” She waved the tall, blond man over to them then nudged Finn. “It was cute how you tried to protect me, though.”
“You’ll pay for that,” he growled.
She ignored him and spoke to the man. “Hey, Ryan. What’s going on?”
“You have a phone call up at the house. I’m told it’s urgent.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
She sniffed back the tide of threatening tears. The hospital room reeked of disinfectant. The whir of the machines keeping Joe alive hummed low or beeped an occasional alarm. The nurses, probably weary by now, checked on him occasionally.
Still in her silver gown from the night before, Beverly stood next to the only chair in the room, which was occupied by her mother. Reggie silently wept as she waited and watched Joe—his battered and bloody face contorted beyond recognition.
Fury consumed her once more. How did this happen? Salem wasn’t a dangerous town. Joe could handle most anything that came his way. And why did this happen? He was just an old guy doing his job.
She paced the little room. She needed to do something. Something to get her mind off the wait. They hadn’t heard from the doctors. They had no idea if Joe was even going to wake up. The only thing they heard so far was he was breathing on his own, and the nurse seemed to think that was a miracle. She wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the chill. Len, her head of security, quietly walked in.
“Just finished talking with the police.” His mouth tightened. She swallowed her fear as Len said, “There were no witnesses and, from what the detective can tell, it was a random mugging but when Mr. Stanly fought back, the assailants made it worse for him.”
“They’re blaming Joe for protecting himself?”
“No. They just think he might have hurt his attackers, so they retaliated even more.”
“You said ‘attackers,’ plural?”
“Yeah, the cop said there was no way Joe Stanly lost to just one guy. There had to be at least two people to bring him down. He has a good reputation among the cops here,” Len said. “They’re putting every resource on finding whoever is responsible.”
“That’s something then,” she whispered. She didn’t want her mother to hear them.
“Ms. Winslow, sorry to interrupt,” a woman in scrubs said as she walked into the room. “I’m Doctor Sherman.”
Finally, Bev thought. Some answers. “What can you tell me, Doctor?”
“I understand the patient has no next of kin?”
“That’s right. Me and Ma are the only people he calls family.”
“He also doesn’t have health insurance…” the doctor said.
She gripped the side of the chair her mother sat in. “We can afford whatever you think he needs. I’ll see to it.” Her mother rose from the chair to hold Bev’s hand and listen.
Dr. Sherman flipped the page on her clipboard and read. “The patient sustained blunt-force trauma to the abdomen. His vitals indicate no ruptures or internal bleeding, which is good.”
Bev sighed. Thank God.
“However,” the doctor said as she flipped another page, “Mr. Stanly has a broken wrist and several broken ribs. You can see from his face, he was beaten badly but sustained only one facial fracture. The X-rays indicate this is not his first broken nose.”
Bev eyes filled. “Is there anything else?”
“Nothing we can see. No brain swelling and nothing to indicate cognitive impairment. He’ll wake up when he wants to, and he’ll be in a world of pain.” The doctor pinched the bridge of her nose, warding off obvious fatigue. “He’s lucky and clearly he’s a fighter. I’d caution you against expecting too much from him. He’s tough, but he’s older. He needs to take his time recuperating. Other than the obvious injuries, Mr. Stanly is in great shape for someone his age. If he doesn’t push himself too hard, he’ll be around a long time yet.” The doctor pivoted toward the door way.
“Doctor, how long will he stay here?”
“He can leave after he wakes up and passes our neuro evals for a twenty-four-hour period. I don’t see him here beyond tomorrow night. You’ll want him recovering somewhere with twenty-four-hour help. The first week will be brutal,” Dr. Sherman answered and turned to the door.
Reggie finally spoke. “Thank you, Doctor.” Sherman nodded silently and walked out.
“What do you want to do now?” Bev asked.
Reggie sniffed back fresh tears. “I’m going to sit here until he wakes up. Then, I’ll get him what he feels like eating. Then I’ll go from there.”
She held her mother close. “I’ll sit with you. But I need to return some calls. My phone has been vibrating like crazy. After that, I’ll call Ms. Garrett and make arrangements to transfer Joe up to the house in Maine.”
Reggie pulled out of the hug. “He won’t like that.”
“That's too damned bad, isn't it? I have no idea what happened or why he was beaten like this.” Bev shuddered and rubbed her temple. “Until we know this was a random mugging, you two need to be careful. I can’t think of anywhere safer right now.”
“What about Atlantic Charters?” Reggie asked.
“Pre-season starts in a month. I'll hire someone to answer the phones and keep the office occupied. If I need to, I can hire someone to drive the boat and use interns to add the commentary. It’s not much different than the original plan. We can dip into some of the savings to cover costs.”
Her mother snorted. “You’re a billionaire, Bevie.”
“Atlantic Charters is mine. Winslow Holdings has nothing to do with it. I can’t let my two lives bleed into one another.”
Reggie looked down at Joe. “I’d say it’s a little late for that.”
“What do you mean?”
“You said it yourself. You have no idea if this has something to do with Reginald’s stupid will or not. Personally, I don’t like the coincidence.”
“I don’t either. Which is why I’m asking you and Joe to move into the big house in Maine until we sort this out. I’ll feel better knowing you’re there.”
“We’ll do that, sweetheart. I’d expect you’d do the same to put my mind at ease.”
“Thanks, Ma.” She turned to go make her calls.
“Oh, and, sweetie?” her mother called out.
“Yes.”
“You can say you don’t want your two lives bleeding into one another, but you’re being stupid.”
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