Beth dropped the letter as if it had burst into flames. Pain like she had never known ripped through her. It started in her heart with the word shame and radiated out to the tips of her fingers and toes. It seemed to tear right through her and fill the closet with her sorrow.
“Beth! Stop! It’s not what you think. Let me explain.”
Something snapped in Beth with those words. Her heart broke, and the rose-colored glasses she had worn from the first day dropped right off her face. For good. She didn’t even reach out to try to find them again.
“I don’t know. Can you explain? Or are you always acting?”
CHAPTER 9
Lea, in a cream linen pantsuit free of wrinkles, strode down the middle of the sidewalk heading to All Jacked Up.
Nikka glanced at her iPhone. Her boss was right on time, not a minute early or a second late. Any other day, she would marvel about how much control Lea had over herself and her environment. At the moment, however, she was still shivering and fretting over her unsettling conversation with Maggie in the cooler.
Nikka closed her eyes at the memory. The whole visit had been such a bad call. She had gone to the bakery just to work a few things out in her own head, including why she couldn’t stop thinking about Maggie. Suddenly, she was risking frostbite and being roped into a black-ops mission to free Walker from a hostage situation. There had to be other ways to handle such a delicate situation.
Lea sought Nikka’s glance and smiled broadly. She came right up and ran a hand lightly down Nikka’s arm in greeting. More intimate than a handshake, but still professional. Lea held her arm until Nikka focused completely on her boss’s face.
“Thanks for the text last night,” Lea said. “I’m going to be completely honest with you. I’m not too sure about Vivienne either.”
Nikka’s shoulders dropped. See? Maggie was wrong about Lea. She didn’t know what was going on with Walker. “I’m so glad to hear you say that. Last night I—”
“Wait, we need to get through today and tomorrow, and then you and I can take a hard look at what’s going on out there together. Yes?”
Nikka nodded. She could live with that. Again, exactly what she had told Maggie. One day shouldn’t matter, and Lea had said together. Here was the better way. “Yes, let’s do that.”
“Good.” She squeezed her arm and let Nikka go. “Why are you so cold? And why are you waiting out here instead of inside?”
“I didn’t want to contaminate the water.” Nikka chose to ignore the first question. “I’m persona non grata in there.”
“Oh, that’s right. She was the difficult one.”
“Yeah, a little angry to say the least.”
“All right, then, this is how we are going to handle our meeting. I’m going to throw you under the bus, play her side of the game, and with a little luck we should get what we want. You up for a little acting?”
“Sure. If that’s what it takes.”
“Just go with it. Show me what you’re made of. Shall we?” Lea opened the door for Nikka, and they both walked into the coffee house to face Justine Cammelle, who was coming at them fast with a finger waving in the air.
“This is private property, ladies, and you aren’t welcome in this establishment.”
“First, let me apologize. I’m so sorry about yesterday, Justine.” Lea darted ahead of Nikka to meet her with a slight bow. “May I call you Justine?”
Lea’s cordial greeting threw Justine for a loop, and she stopped dead near the empty space on the counter where the Creative Coffees cookbook had stood the day before. “Ah, yeah. I guess so.”
“Great, and you must call me Lea.” She clasped Justine’s hand in a shake and simultaneously directed her to a more private table in the back. “Perhaps we can start again as friends this time?”
Nikka shook her head as she joined them. Lea was like a surgeon, her moves so precise they had already cut Justine out of the equation without her even knowing it.
“And that friendship has to start with a true apology. You see, I stupidly sent my assistant out here to do a job that I should’ve done myself. She’s new to this case and wasn’t as prepared as I had hoped.” Lea glared at Nikka.
“I’m sorry.” Nikka had to remind herself that they were acting. She hoped. Lea’s irritation felt very real.
Lea directed them all to a nearby table and sat down between Justine and Nikka. “What Nikka should have done,” Lea scooted her chair closer to Justine, “was offer you a new deal. An exclusive that will bring you a lot of business.”
Justine shook a finger at Nikka. “She was very rude.”
“S…Sorry.” Nikka glanced down at her feet. She hoped she wasn’t overdoing it.
“Well, now you’re talking to someone who makes the decisions.” Lea tapped the table with her forefinger, shifting Justine’s attention back to her. “As you probably already know, tomorrow morning Beth Walker’s story, ‘The Tarot Card,’ drops on Amazon.”
Lea paused until Justine nodded.
“So just a thought… What if it also drops here? My office could upload it to your website just for the day. People could come here, buy a cup of coffee, maybe a cinnamon roll, and log into your Wi-Fi. They could sit and read the story for free while they’re here.”
Justine’s eyes widened. Nikka could almost see the dollar signs pushing up her eyelids.
“It would only be for the day, of course. Otherwise, we risk other online bookstores price-matching, and we don’t want to make the story permanently free. And you’d have to jump all over the marketing since it’s tomorrow. I think you could turn a tidy profit, but the real benefit is that you’d set yourself up as the ultimate Beth Walker connection here in the Springs. And to sweeten the deal we could guarantee at least two more exclusive days with Walker releases in the next few months.”
“Interesting.” Justine leaned back in her seat.
Nikka studied her. Justine was trying to play it cool, but she was way out of her league.
Lea already had a contract out of her workbag and was sliding it across the table. “Providing, of course, that we can come to a new agreement tonight about the points that Nikka raised so rudely yesterday.”
Justine glanced at the paper that had almost magically appeared right under her nose.
Nikka did too. She couldn’t see the fine print, but the numbers and percentages on the paper gave the advantage to Walker and Truman and Steinbrecker in a big way. The story here was the ticking clock. If Justine didn’t sign, she would lose the exclusive.
Justine licked her lips as she stared down at the contract. “I should probably have my lawyer look at this.” Her voice was hesitant. Nikka could clearly read that she wanted to be talked out of that move. And if she could see that, it would’ve been a clarion call to Lea.
“That’s always a good move,” Lea said, “but it all needs to be in place before we can upload the story.”
Justine dug around in her back pocket and pulled out her phone.
“There are, of course, intangibles here as there are with most deals. True, you’d have to pay compensation to the Walker estate, but it would be business as usual after that, and we’d look to you to be our liaison with the other businesses here in the Springs. This once-in-a-lifetime opportunity would, of course, come with reparation…”
Lea let the words trail off into silence. Justine didn’t react.
“…and power…”
Here she got a bite. Justine leaned forward slightly.
Lea moved in for the kill. “You could influence your friends and the entire community about how we move forward. They would look to you for guidance and your expertise.”
Nikka shifted in her seat. Lea was laying it on pretty thick.
“Really?”
“Yes, absolutely.” Lea pulled a black pen out of her bag. Truman and Steinbrecker was etched on it in silver script. She nudged the pen toward Justine’s hand. “The contract is completely boiler plate, standard through and through. Y
ou can have your lawyer look at it any time.”
“I don’t know…” But Justine already had the pen poised over the empty line at the bottom of the contract.
Hours later, Nikka eased into a back booth at The Lumberyard across from Lea. Her feet throbbed painfully in her heels, so she kicked off her shoes under the table and rubbed at the blister, now fully formed, on her little toe. That afternoon they had hit almost all of the businesses that had been on Lea’s original list, and Lea’s briefcase was stuffed with the signed contracts to prove it.
“We’re celebrating.” Lea handed Nikka the drinks menu from the back of the table. “And order a real drink. Don’t get a flight of craft beers or anything.”
“Okay.”
“Tomorrow has to go off without a hitch. We didn’t invite a ton of people, only those who were eager for the story.” Lea picked up an advertisement for a hamburger, gooey with cheese and mushrooms, from the edge of the table. World-Famous Truffle Burger ran across the top in big, glossy letters. “I wonder what makes it world-famous.”
Lea looked as if nothing that fatty or delicious ever passed over her lips. Just the way she was sitting with her suit jacket off and the top few buttons of her blouse open screamed I am hot; look at me. So Nikka did. She let her gaze linger on the swell of one breast and the edge of a lacy bra for just a second. She was hot. There was no denying it.
“Oh thank God,” she said as the waiter appeared.
“We’ll have two of these.” Lea waved the burger advertisement at him. “And I’ll have a Greyhound, please, with Grey Goose vodka. If you don’t have Grey Goose, come back and I’ll order something different. I don’t want a substitution. ”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. Nikka, what are you drinking?”
“I’ll have a Greyhound too.” She had no idea what she’d just ordered. She didn’t drink much. She liked to stay completely in control so she left that Russian stereotype to her father and brother. She did, at least, recognize that Grey Goose was a step up from the Smirnoff that her father had at home.
“Can I suggest you start with an appetizer? Our spinach-artichoke dip is our best-seller or the—”
“No. Just the drinks and the hamburgers.”
A few minutes later, as soon as the cocktail was dropped onto the table, Lea circled the rim of the glass with one finger. She took a long sip and visibly relaxed against the back cushion of the booth. For the first time all day, she really looked at Nikka, studying her.
“You picked up the cues well back at the coffee store. What was it? Theater in an after-school program? Improv in college?
“Slam poetry in high school.”
“I knew it was something. Doesn’t really matter. They’re all good training for a lawyer. ”
Nikka took a small sip of the drink in front of her. Ah, thank goodness…grapefruit. Fortunately, nothing more than spiked juice, but the expensive vodka made it very smooth. She would have to keep her wits about her. She looked up. All of Lea’s attention was still on her.
“So what’s your story? Girlfriend, boyfriend, something in between?”
“Not interested in boys. No girlfriend for a while. Trying to get ahead in my job.” She drew her lips into half a smile—sophisticated, she prayed, not sucking up.
“Sitting with the managing partner at dinner in the middle of a big case. I think you can check that off your to-do list.”
Nikka’s smile broadened.
“The relationships will come too. When work takes up so much of your time, it’s really hard.” Here she met Nikka’s gaze. Her blue eyes softened as she looked at her.
This was just casual dinner banter, right? Surely Lea wasn’t flirting with her. That would be crazy.
“It’s a good thing you’re not involved with anyone. This kind of case doesn’t come along often.”
“I know. I’m very grateful—”
“When I was just starting out, I was involved in a very big case myself.” Lea swirled the ice around in her drink with the rosemary sprig. “It was Peter Robertson’s first book, Cold Crush.”
Nikka took a quick breath. “You were involved with Cold Crush?” She had studied the case at Stanford.
“Well, not in any real way. I was just an associate with Kendel, Mattern, and Braun at the time, but I did get to see the inner workings of IP law at its very best.”
Lea smiled a sophisticated half smile that left Nikka wondering what would conjure up the whole smile. That was how it was done, though. Nikka was sure she had looked dopey with her attempt.
“You know I’ll flat-out deny it if you repeat this to anyone. But Robertson told me he willfully stole the central theme and architecture for his book from those historians. He was trying to get into my pants at the time, unsuccessfully, of course. Consequently, he let a lot of stuff slip in the attempt.”
“Really?” Nikka leaned in. This had certainly not been in the law books at Stanford.
“Yep. Point for point, he told me. He said that they had already done all the heavy lifting in developing the theory that Jack the Ripper was actually Jackie the Ripper. A woman and a midwife. He knew all he had to do was add the vengeful lesbian angle, and he could get away with it.” Lea raised her eyebrows playfully as she handed over that tidbit.
Nikka took a sip of her Greyhound. It was suddenly more sour than smooth. The courts had called the Robertson case a victory for common sense and a triumph for the expression of ideas, not the ideas themselves. To know for sure that Robertson had maliciously stolen the material did put a new spin on those law school lectures.
“Adam Braun is one of the best lawyers I’ve ever seen in action. And that’s the take-away, Nikka. The ability to spin things, how you put them together is so much more important that the intention beneath them.”
Was it, Nikka wondered, but then quickly pushed that thought away.
Lea knocked back the last sip of her Greyhound and held the empty glass out to the waiter, who was at the next table. “One more. You want another?”
Nikka shook her head.
“There are cases that define us as lawyers. More than one if you’re lucky. And, Nikka, this could be yours. Walker’s, of course, is night and day different than Robertson’s. But it’s just as high-profile. We’re going to need a point person on Walker. To keep everything organized. We’ll have to pull you out of the cubicles and into an office of your own to give you more space.”
Bam! There it was: the opportunity that her father had always told her would come her way. All she had to do was grab it like the brass ring it was.
“An office? Of my own?” It seemed too good to be true.
“A small one, but yes, it’s the first step.”
“Lea, I don’t know what to say.”
“Nothing. You’ve earned it. But you better keep on earning it. No one can rest on her laurels in this business.”
The waiter slid the hamburgers onto the table. They were huge, bulging with mushrooms and cheese, and accompanied by a mound of fries.
“Ketchup? Mustard?”
“No, thank you,” Lea said for them both.
Nikka studied the plate. The thick patty was slipping right off the bun. What had looked delectable on the advertisement looked completely unmanageable in reality. “How are we supposed to eat this?”
As a reply, Lea flipped the top bun off onto the side and pulled two forks and knives out of the kitschy wooden log holder. She handed one set to Nikka.
“Yes, it’s going to be a lot of managerial work. Making sure we dot our i’s and cross our t’s. But you’ve got a knack for that, and you won’t believe what you can learn seeing a case from this angle.” Lea carved out a bite of her burger. “This is good. Maybe not world-famous, but good. We can leave right after the press conference tomorrow. I didn’t like the new car service that Alison booked for me on the way up, so you and I can drive back to the City together.”
Nikka remembered the wordless ride up the 101 Highway at the
beginning of the week.
“I’ll sit in the front seat, and we can hammer out how to put the best offense in place for Walker.”
“Absolutely. I’m all in.” Nikka flipped off the top bun just as Lea had done and plunged her fork into the burger’s heart.
Maggie yawned and stretched her arms over her head. Her lower back howled in protest. Knots were tied up inside other knots, and she could barely stand upright she was so exhausted. Two hundred cupcakes—ten different flavors—baked, frosted, decorated, boxed, and ready to go. She had done it all in one day. She glanced at her watch. Well, two days, technically, but the important thing was it was done, and she could look Lauren in the eyes again. She grabbed her phone.
Finished, she texted. They look great. I’ll put them on the delivery shelves in the cooler so Skylar can load them in the van when she gets in. I’m going home to sleep!
All she could think about was a shower and crawling into bed for at least twelve hours. Then, when she awoke, she would figure out what to do about Beth.
She grabbed the first set of boxes and carried them to the shelf in the cooler. She slid them in right next to the sign that said deliveries. Damn. There wasn’t going to be enough room. She glanced around. There was plenty of room on the shelves across the cooler, where they kept all the cupcakes for the store. She would have to leave a note for Skylar so she wouldn’t miss the overflow.
She had taped clear and careful instructions onto the shelf when the paper, too heavy for the tape, dropped to the floor and disappeared under the unit. Man, good thing she had been here.
She could hear Lauren’s frantic phone call from Fern House as she stared in the bakery van the next morning. “Where are the Lemon Lovers?”
Her muscles groaning, Maggie stiffly bent to retrieve the note but then froze. An idea tugged at the edge of her mind. What if she hadn’t seen the note fall? It would’ve lain forgotten under the shelving unit. Skylar wouldn’t have known about the extra boxes, and there actually would be a hysterical phone call.
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