Date With a Diva

by Joanne Rock

  Now her butterflies picked up speed, her pulse quickened and her legs grew liquid.

  “Did it ever occur to you that it might be hideously unfair for you to make all the decisions about whether or not we sleep together?” Did he think the past two days had been a walk in the park for her? Besides, he was the one who’d talked her into sex in the first place with his whole assurance that it was just a rebound thing. Why did he get to back out after he’d convinced her? “Why don’t I get a say?”

  He stopped cold, his black hockey bag banging against his thigh. “We both get a say. But unless we agree, we can’t do a damn thing about what we want.”

  Like hell. If she’d accepted that kind of attitude in life, she’d still be barefoot in a Kentucky hill town and taking over the family bourbon business.

  “Then I’ll just have to get you to agree with me on this one, won’t I?” She paused, waiting for him to join her on the trek toward his shiny black pickup truck.

  “I’m a divorcée who’s been without sex for over a year, Cesare. I’m willing to go to bat for my next orgasm.”

  12

  NICO WAS STILL REELING three hours later. Lainie hadn’t said another word about any potential plans for seduction on their circuitous route home, but he knew how driven and determined she could be. If she was coming after him, then, by God, he’d have a hell of a time keeping his pants on.

  Now, as he pulled into a parking space on Ocean Drive near Club Paradise, he wondered with a mixture of anticipation and fear how soon she’d start her campaign.

  “Thanks for running errands with me.” Lainie scooped up her handbag and shoved open the truck door before he could help her. “I’m sure you had better ways of spending your day than waiting around while I schmoozed my newspaper contacts.”

  It hadn’t been a hardship to watch her schmooze. Well, except for her chat with one of the business editors who kept stealing surreptitious glances at her legs. “Not a problem.”

  “Holy crap.” Lainie halted in her tracks on the sidewalk outside the hotel. Her silk skirt swung around her legs with interrupted momentum.

  Nico followed her gaze to the two police cruisers with flashing lights parked in front of the property. His protective instincts went on high alert. “You shouldn’t even be here.”

  “It’s okay. The building is still standing, isn’t it? That means there weren’t any more explosions.” She took another step toward the Mediterranean-inspired building.

  He caught up with her a few yards from the entrance, thinking to himself that there still could have been an accident, a robbery, a fight, or worse. But he didn’t share that with Lainie who already looked a shade paler despite the steely set to her delicate jaw. She’d probably be charging into the damn building even if it was burning down.

  Dragging open one of the oversize front doors, Nico ignored his good manners and let himself in the building first. If there was trouble brewing, he’d be the one to scope it out.

  All his worst-case scenario fears hadn’t prepared him for what he spied once they were inside.

  Daisy, the pretend waitress, was sandwiched between two police officers, her slender wrists in handcuffs. Her hair was tousled and she’d traded last night’s fancy evening dress for a pair of shorts and T-shirt bearing a UCLA logo.

  Bram Hawthorne was standing between the trio and the door as if determined not to let the group walk by him. He gestured wildly with his arms as he talked, his usual Southern charm looking as frazzled as his bed-rumpled hair, wrinkled T-shirt and cargo pants. Photographers already circled the scene, flashbulbs popping nonstop to capture every moment on film.

  “This is an all-new style of explosion,” Nico muttered under his breath, but Lainie was already in motion, her heels clicking a determined beat across the polished marble floor.

  Damn.

  His feet stepped double time to catch up, something he seemed to do a lot around this woman.

  “What is the meaning of this?” She kept her voice low, her question directed to the same two police officers who had investigated yesterday’s kitchen mishap.

  “We talked to the chef who quit two days ago and found out Miss Stephenson had instigated some strife among the employees in the kitchen, including an attempt to talk the former chef out of her job.”

  “Surely you aren’t arresting her for being mouthy.” Lainie raised one blond eyebrow, a skeptical expression that seemed to go hand in hand with being an attorney. “Anything else?”

  Bram answered first. “Ms. Reynolds, I’m sure this is all a big mistake.”

  Nico noticed Daisy’s eyes cut to the movie star, her lip trembling ever so slightly.

  “Forget it, Bram,” she whispered, loud enough for everyone but the reporters to hear. “This kind of scandal isn’t good for you or the movie.”

  He threaded his fingers through his spiky hair, making the mop stick up even higher.

  “Quiet.” Lainie shot them both a quelling look before turning her attention back to the police. “Officers? Does this woman have some sort of connection to the explosion yesterday?”

  She damn well better not. Nico hadn’t thought Lainie treated the other woman too nicely, but that didn’t give this Daisy person any right to risk lives.

  To risk Lainie’s life.

  “After the chef fingered her, we took a ride out here to question her. She gave us permission to search her handbag and we found incriminating evidence in the form of a ‘to do’ list with ways to bring you low.”

  The round-faced cop waved the paper under Lainie’s nose.

  Even as she snagged it for a read, Lainie rolled her eyes at Daisy. “You gave them permission?”

  “They made it sound like I had no choice.” She glared at the police officers, who didn’t appear too concerned. “And I tried to tell them that someone else could have seen my list because I never would have put it loose in my purse the way they found it. I always keep stuff like that in a little pocket binder with my notepaper and my other lists—ways to make a million in five years, new ways to cook pasta with low fat sauces…that kind of thing.”

  “And ways to make trouble in Paradise?” Nico peered over Lainie’s shoulder and read the list.

  Creating trouble in Club Paradise:

  Initiate personnel problems among the staff.

  Lay the groundwork for an explosive situation.

  Publicize the whole mess on network television, or better yet—a full-length feature film.

  Force The Diva—ice princess Lainie Reynolds—to remember my name.

  Anger churned inside him. “She could have killed someone.”

  Lainie passed the note back to the officer. “You’ll compare the handwriting to the other note I received?”

  Bram faltered in his pacing. “There are more?”

  Nico imagined it must suck to suspect your new girlfriend of sabotage, deceit and God only knows what else.

  The lady cop nodded toward her partner and gave him some sort of sign to prod the other guy toward the door. “We really can’t discuss the investigation with any of you. Ms. Reynolds, we may need you to come back in for further questioning.”

  Lainie was already pulling a card out of her purse and stuffing it into the officer’s hand. “This is Ms. Stephenson’s lawyer. Daisy, when you contact him, just let him know I’ve referred you and, for God’s sake, don’t say another word until your attorney is present.”

  Daisy’s jaw dropped open moments before her eyes narrowed. Confusion, suspicion and a healthy dose of fear were all reflected in her wide blue eyes. Was it such a surprise that Lainie would lend someone a legal hand? She’d practiced law for six years before trying her hand as a businesswoman, for crying out loud.

  “Damn.” Nico hadn’t realized he’d spoken until Lainie stared at him while the police were taking Daisy away. He shrugged. “She sure doesn’t look like a would-be killer.”

  The photographers followed Daisy and the police, leaving Bram alone for a few moments. He mu
ttered a string of curses before he scowled at Nico. “I’m sure she didn’t do a damn thing.” He stuffed his hands in his wrinkled pants as he looked at Lainie. “You don’t think she did, either, do you?”

  Lainie’s hands didn’t look particularly steady as she stuffed a leather card case back in her purse. “I don’t know what to think, but I can tell you that Daisy’s handwriting doesn’t match the note I received, and it doesn’t account for why my ex-husband is harassing me.” She gave him a tight smile. “Then again, it could simply be a case of me having way too many enemies to count.”

  Without thinking, Nico slid his arm around her waist. Felt her trembling even though he couldn’t see it as he stared down at her.

  “Why don’t we go upstairs so you can unwind? Kick your shoes off and think this through?” As soon as he suggested it, he knew she’d never go for it. The woman had independence and determination down to some sort of twisted art form. “Or we could go check out whatever they’re filming today for Diva’s Last Dance.”

  Movies made great distractions for women who were in too much trouble and the men who cared too much about them. Jesus. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be forming his own freaking self-help group in no time.

  “Shit.” Bram looked down at his watch. “I don’t know if we’re going to be filming squat today. How the hell can I run a love scene when my—” His gaze moved back to the glass doors leading outside where they were putting Daisy in a squad car. “I might have to ask for a delay.”

  “No.” Lainie hitched her purse higher on her shoulder, grabbed Bram’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze.

  “I’m telling you, Daisy couldn’t be in better hands than my former legal partner’s. She’ll probably be back in the hotel by nightfall.”

  Nico had his doubts about that. Even if she was released on bail, wouldn’t she have to stay away from Lainie, the woman she obviously detested?

  “You think so?” Bram stuffed his hands in his pockets as he looked at Lainie with hope in his eyes, his heart practically hanging off his sleeve and bleeding right there on the hotel floor where he’d been pacing.

  Poor sucker.

  Nico vowed he wouldn’t get trampled like that again. No way. No how. It wasn’t a pretty sight.

  “If not, I’ll arrange private, quiet transportation for you to head down there tonight. I know plenty of people in the Dade county jail system who can bend a few rules for me.” Lainie smiled at Bram. “Especially if there’s an autograph in it for them.”

  Bram seemed to settle down. Deep breaths slowed his pacing. “You think I should do the scene?”

  “Put all that adrenaline to good use and give a killer performance. Trust me, you’re not going to be able to do a thing to help Daisy until after she’s talked to the police on her own. If anything, you’ll only draw a hell of a lot of attention to her case and she’ll be all over the news as a suspected arsonist simply because you’re there with her. She won’t be able to go to the grocery store without six people recognizing her as Bram Hawthorne’s jailbird girlfriend.”

  Bram swore, shook his head, but finally nodded. “You’re right. What else do I have to do right now anyway?” He took a few steps backward. “We’re filming in the Fun & Games Chamber again if you want to come up. Rosaria loves an audience.” He rolled his eyes and then pivoted, jogging through the lobby toward the elevator, weaving his way through the slowly dispersing crowd.

  Nico blinked, trying to make sense of what the hell just happened. His arm still slung around Lainie even though her slight tremors had ceased, he shook his head.

  “I don’t get it.”

  “What?”

  “The cops arrest one of your least favorite people and you rush to her defense.”

  “I did no such—”

  “You give her access to somebody that I’d be willing to bet is one of the city’s best attorneys, and then you play Susie Make Peace with Bram by helping him heal his trampled heart.” Nico didn’t understand a damn thing about women, but he’d thought he’d at least gotten a handle on hard-nosed Lainie Reynolds. Until now.

  Lainie still stared across the lobby in the direction Bram had gone. “Do you believe a nice guy like him went for a bad girl like Daisy?”

  He stood a little taller. “I think nice guys get sucked in by bad girls all the time. Just look at me and you. It’s all that stuff about opposites attracting.”

  Sighing, she stepped closer to the self-service bar at the coffee shop off to one side of the lobby. “Please. As much as I hate to say it, I have the feeling you and I were cut from the same cloth—bad to the bone.”

  “Hey, speak for yourself. And you still haven’t answered my question.” He followed her toward the coffee counter as she pretended great interest in the java selection. Why did he get the feeling he’d just witnessed some of her lawyer ability to talk circles around people?

  “Oh?” She reached for a cup.

  “Yeah, oh. What made you decide to be so nice to Daisy when she’s obviously gunning for you?”

  Sighing, she helped herself to a latte and waved to a teenager manning the register. “Honestly? I thought over what you said about me giving Daisy a hard time and I guess I realized I did bust her butt too much.”

  Surprised, he grabbed a cup for himself and filled it with ice water, always a good countermeasure to have on hand whenever he was near Lainie.

  “You thought about something I said?”

  “Yes. And when I took it to the next level and asked myself why I gave her such grief, I realized it was because she reminded me of my mother. No sense of self-esteem so she makes herself feel special by seducing a lot of guys.”

  “Whoa. Hold up there.” He sipped his ice water just to get his bearings. “I think you covered a whole season’s worth of Oprah in about two seconds.”

  “It’s neither here nor there anyway. But I realized I needed to cut Daisy some slack.” Lainie waved away the words as if they didn’t matter, when Nico knew damn well they did. Had she just admitted her mother was a…female player?

  Somehow this new information helped Lainie’s ramrod-straight posture and all-business manner make perfect sense. Maybe it also explained why she married a guy like Flynn who looked so upstanding on the outside. Damn but he was turning into Mr. Insightful lately.

  Knowing she wouldn’t appreciate any comments on what she’d just told him, Nico moved on. “And what about my other question? You told me why you were nice to Daisy, but what made you decide to help out Bram? I thought for sure you’d encourage him to chase down his girl and skip the filming so that the movie crew would have to stay in South Beach that much longer.”

  “I have a very good reason for wanting Bram to film his scene today.” She glanced up at Nico over the rim of her latte, her green eyes sending a message that made him want to loosen his collar.

  “What was that?”

  “I thought it might be fun inspiration for us to watch a love scene together.” She nodded toward the elevator with cool composure. “Are you ready to go upstairs to take in the show?”

  “As if we need inspiration.” Nico’s hand clenched around the cup of water, not convinced that drinking it would help put out the fire she’d just ignited with only a handful of words. He might as well dump the drink down his shorts. “This is your way of tormenting me, isn’t it?”

  “I told you I was determined to wrangle a repeat performance from you, Cesare.” That Mona Lisa smile of hers surfaced, a wicked light dancing in her eyes.

  “I figured you could use a little incentive before I take you back to my room tonight.”

  NEVER LET THEM SEE YOU SWEAT.

  The advice of a long-ago law-school professor rang in Lainie’s head as she bluffed her way through an admission that made her nervous and left her wide open for more rejection. But, damn it, she wanted another night with Nico even more than she wanted to maintain her diva persona.

  The ice-queen facade had always helped her in business and had carried her
through an emotionally tumultuous year, but it sure as hell hadn’t been very effective at landing sexy dates.

  Time to melt away some of that cool exterior so she could get what she really wanted. She just hoped she didn’t overheat while she waited for his reply.

  “You want to watch the hot scene with me?” Nico pressed his empty cup to his head after chugging the contents in one long swallow.

  “That’s right.” Her latte rippled in its cup, thanks to her attack of nerves. She started walking toward the elevator, hoping the movement would hide the telltale signs of panic. Fear. God but she hated putting herself on the line in her personal life. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, but I’m watching the scene and since you’ve made it your mission to look after me, I figure you’ll end up watching it, too.”

  The string of curses he reeled off behind her soothed her, giving her reason to hope he would be swayed by the steamy new movie sequence.

  Fifteen minutes later they were taking their places in the Fun & Games Chamber for the filming. As Lainie glanced around at the half-dozen other guests standing behind the roped-off area, she couldn’t help but wonder how Daisy was faring at the police station.

  She seriously doubted the girl was behind the kitchen explosion. If anything, seeing Daisy’s scrawled “to do” list had only succeeded in making Lainie realize how inaccessible she’d been to everyone around her for the last year. She’d never been a big touchy-feely type, but before her divorce she’d at least been able to maintain some friendships. Since then she’d been moving through life with a huge chip on her shoulder. The time had come to get over herself and move on.

  Love sucked. End of story.

  That didn’t mean she had to take out her frustrations on cigarette girls who didn’t take their jobs superseriously. And it didn’t mean she needed to deny herself male companionship. Just because men could be painfully unfaithful didn’t mean they had no value.