Sleeping With the Enemy

by Tracy Solheim

  Mimi sighed as she flipped open a folder. “Mainly because you paid all these women off. It’s a smart way to avoid the court system and a media feeding frenzy, but these things do have a way of cropping back up.” She sorted through the papers in front of her before lifting her gaze toward Bridgett. “Some of these cases look like lovers scorned, however. They should be easy to defend in the court of public opinion as long as no one else is going to come out of the woodwork.”

  A silence settled over the room as Mimi looked from Bridgett to Jay. She knew that Mimi was alluding to Bridgett, but Jay was likely thinking about whoever he thought had access to his most secret files. Bridgett tried not to squirm.

  “Nothing else is going to ‘come out of the woodwork,’” Jay answered, his tone quiet but lethal. Bridgett hoped he was right, because if the sexual harassment cases had all been settled out of court, Alesha had to have been made aware of them by someone. Bridgett worried her bottom lip as she prayed that whoever it was didn’t know all Jay’s secrets.

  Mimi heaved another sigh. “Let’s hope not. For now, we’ll start a quiet little campaign to paint these previous cases for what they were—jilted lovers.”

  Jay’s jaw grew taut but he remained silent, not bothering to refute Mimi’s perception. Aggravated and annoyed, Bridgett did fidget in her chair this time. Jay shot her a quelling glance that only served to make her more frustrated.

  “That way,” Mimi continued, “if and when the Girlfriends’ Guide to the NFL runs with the sexual harassment angle, we’ll already have a wave of media outlets who can contradict her.”

  “Too bad she doesn’t have an even bigger story to distract her,” Linc said.

  Three heads turned to the end of the table to stare at Jay’s assistant.

  “Be careful what you wish for,” Mimi said. “Whoever is behind that blog seems to have a personal vendetta against the team. Or, perhaps, just you, Mr. McManus. Regardless, Stuart wants me to stay close just in case. I’m assuming you’ll be remaining in California until after the game on Sunday?”

  Jay stood when Mimi did. “Yes, we’ll fly back Monday morning. I’m hosting a cocktail party here on Saturday night. Please join us. Linc will give you the details.” He nodded at his assistant, and Linc escorted Mimi from the room.

  Dropping back down into his chair, Jay released a sigh.

  “You agree with Mimi that this is something personal, don’t you?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” he said, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “According to Asia, the majority of the cheerleaders are happy to be on the Sparks squad. They’re paid well for what the job is and they all think they’re being treated fairly. They do it for fun. The players allegedly involved in the sexual intimidation are on the practice squad. Hank will cut them immediately if Jennifer Knowles’s claim can be substantiated.”

  “As your attorney, I have to advise you not to settle for Alesha Warren’s asking price. Let the case languish in the courts. It’ll drop to the bottom of the news cycle pretty quickly if Hank makes a statement that the players are gone and the behavior won’t be tolerated. It’ll take months to get the class notified, but we’ll have a better chance at dismissal if Jennifer Knowles is the only plaintiff.”

  “I don’t plan on giving anyone a dime, Bridgett. But I’m also not going to sit around and let someone use Alesha Warren to slander me. The person behind this isn’t going to stop until they reveal all my secrets. This is about payback.”

  “You know who it is?” she gasped.

  Jay’s tone was resolute. “I have my suspicions.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  When he didn’t answer, Bridgett leaned forward in her chair and whispered. “Jay, don’t do anything stupid. I don’t care if anyone finds out about the baby. That was years ago.”

  His face was stoic as he glanced over his shoulder to the sound of a woman’s laughter in the hallway. Bridgett recognized it from the night before as Charlie’s. “That’s not the only baby I’m concerned about here,” he said.

  “Yes, of course,” Bridgett said around the lump that had formed in her throat. She stood, running her hands down her skirt to smooth out the wrinkles. “Just don’t do anything stupid. Our firm only handles civil cases. I’ll head back to Baltimore this afternoon. As much as Dan is probably enjoying interviewing the cheerleaders, I want to make sure we’ve got all our bases covered. Mimi can handle whatever media issues arise from here.”

  “Not so fast, counselor.” Jay reached out and wrapped his large fingers around her wrist, pulling her down into his lap.

  “Jay!” she cried, frantically looking around to make sure they were alone.

  He slid a hand beneath her skirt and cupped her bottom. “You’re not going anywhere, Bridgett.” She tried to resist him but he had the advantage of surprise when his mouth took hers in a wildly possessive kiss. Bridgett loathed the way her body responded without a trace of resistance to his heavy-handedness. Breaking the kiss, she smacked his chest in frustration at herself as much as Jay.

  “I swear I’m going to have to start wearing a flak jacket around you.” he murmured against her neck.

  “I don’t want you kissing me.”

  She felt his smile against her skin. “I think you do want me kissing you and that’s what has you so mad. You like it too much.”

  “I don’t,” she breathed as one of his fingers slid beneath the crotch of her panties. “Jay,” she gasped when his finger breached her entrance and her body squeezed around it.

  “I have to go into the office and then I have a dinner scheduled,” he said as he stroked her. “Otherwise I’d take you upstairs and do this a lot more thoroughly.”

  Bridgett tried to tell him to stop, that their behavior was unprofessional, but the words never made it past her lips. Instead her breaths became more staccato as Jay flicked in and out of her. Her body began to tighten around his finger just as his mouth covered hers, swallowing up her cry of pleasure.

  The room came into focus a moment later. Bridgett was still sprawled out in Jay’s lap but his hand was no longer beneath her skirt. He swore softly when she shifted. “Be still a minute,” he choked out.

  “I can’t stay here,” she whispered.

  His lips brushed her hairline. “Yes, you can. I’m the client. I call the shots and I say you stay here at the vineyard in case I need further legal advice. Or bailing out of jail.”

  Jay groaned when she jumped off his lap. “You are not going to do something stupid!”

  She wasn’t sure if his grin was one of amusement or pain, but Jay slowly stood to face her. He reached out a hand to cup her face. “I’m not.”

  “Promise me,” she demanded, surprising them both at the ferocity of her tone.

  His face softened and he wrapped his fingers around the back of her neck and pulled her body against his. “Promise me you’ll be here when I get home tonight, Bridgett. We can spend the day exploring the vineyard tomorrow. I’ll even let you bill me at your hourly rate.”

  She smacked him on the chest again as laughter rumbled up beneath her hand. “I didn’t bring anything suitable for a cocktail party.”

  “I’m way ahead of you. Charlie’s agreed to take you shopping.”

  Bridgett’s eyes snapped back up to his. “Your sister?”

  “Hmm,” he said with grin. “And she’s even agreed to be nice.”

  His lips brushed the tip of her nose and Bridgett sighed. “Fine. But I’m only agreeing to the weekend, Jay. On Monday, we go back to the way things were.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  No! If he asked her to run away with him, she’d be sorely tempted, just as his offer last night had tempted her. But she needed to listen to the levelheaded Bridgett, who’d been guiding her these past years. It was the only way she knew how to survive. “I’m sure.”

 
His mouth took on that self-satisfied grin again. “We’ll see.”

  Thirteen

  Everything Bridgett knew of the grown-up Charlie she’d gleaned from the tabloid headlines while standing in the grocery store checkout line. Still, that didn’t prepare her for the young woman who met her in the foyer of Jay’s home later that afternoon. For starters, his sister was very tall. She wore designer skinny jeans tucked into a pair of riding boots, the look making her legs appear miles long. Her rich auburn hair was tied back in a ponytail and hidden beneath a Baltimore Blaze baseball cap. Charlie had wrapped a fluffy teal scarf around her neck, covering up most of her long-sleeved white shirt. Her only other accessories were three silver bangle bracelets on her wrist.

  Bridgett felt positively fuddy-duddy standing next to Jay’s gorgeous young sister. She tried not to cringe as Charlie eyed her from head to toe, taking in her outfit of gray slacks, a purple cardigan, and Anne Klein loafers. At least she’d donned her pearls.

  Charlie shook her head as she pulled away from the banister she’d been leaning on and headed toward the door. “I’m not sure I know of any stores conservative enough for you, but I’m always up for an adventure,” she said, her long strides carrying her out the front door quickly, forcing Bridgett to have to trot to keep up.

  “These are my traveling clothes,” Bridgett said, unsure why she felt the need to defend herself.

  “Whatever.” Charlie punched the key fob unlocking the doors to a silver Range Rover parked out front. “The paparazzi won’t be expecting me at J.C. Penney, so there’s that.”

  Bridgett climbed into the passenger seat. “I Googled the names of a few boutiques in St. Helena. I’m perfectly happy to go on my own.” Getting to know Jay’s sister might not be as enjoyable of an afternoon as Bridgett once imagined.

  Charlie laughed. “And have you pick out a dress my mother would wear? No way!” She turned the key and started the car. “I love my brother too much to allow that to happen.”

  They made their way down the winding drive and Bridgett took the opportunity to sleuth a little about Jay and his sister’s relationship. “I take it you two are close?”

  “Oh no, you don’t, lawyer lady.” Charlie maneuvered the car along the two-lane road leading to the center of Napa. “I don’t dish on my brother and he doesn’t dish on me.”

  “Your life is pretty much an open book,” Bridgett couldn’t resist saying.

  Charlie shot her a grin as the Range Rover merged onto the highway, carrying them north toward St. Helena. “Well, Mrs. Cleaver has teeth.”

  “Bridgett. My name is Bridgett.”

  There was a pause before Charlie spoke. “That’s actually a very pretty name. It fits you. I’m Charlotte, but you already know that.”

  “Not Charlie?”

  Her tone was sharper than it had been. “My brother is the only one who calls me that.”

  They were both silent as Bridgett took in the beautiful countryside zooming past. Charlie groaned softly and began digging into the console between the seats, pulling out a package of crackers. “Would you mind,” she asked softly. “The alternative is that I barf all over.”

  Bridgett tore open the package and handed her one. “Would you rather I drive?”

  “No, thanks. I get carsick sitting in the passenger seat or the back even when I’m not pregnant.” She glanced over at Bridgett while she crunched on the cracker. “Jay assured me that my pregnancy is covered under his attorney-client privilege. Is that true?”

  Technically, no, since it wasn’t Jay who’d told her, but since Bridgett didn’t plan to reveal Jay’s sister’s condition to anyone, it didn’t matter. “You’re covered.” Bridgett gave her a warm smile. “Do you need something to drink with those? I always found the old standbys of weak tea or ginger ale helped during those first weeks.”

  Charlie’s head snapped around. “You have kids?”

  Bridgett wasn’t sure how or why the words had slipped out. She was as surprised as Charlie by the admission. “No.” She shook her head. “It . . . it didn’t work out.”

  “I’m sorry.” Charlie refocused her eyes on the road.

  “It was a long time ago,” Bridgett said, glancing back out at the vineyards, ending any further discussion of the subject.

  They made the rest of the twenty-minute trip in companionable silence, each wrestling with her own secrets. The only sound in the car was the air whistling through the moon roof as they drove through Oak Knoll, Yountville, and Rutherford. The traffic began to slow as they reached the picturesque downtown area of St. Helena, with its charming tree-lined streets and eclectic mix of twentieth-century architecture. Charlie parked the Range Rover on the street in front of the Woodhouse Chocolatier shop. “We may as well start with the fun part,” she said with a wide smile.

  They each picked out a bag of assorted candies, nibbling on them as they strolled along Main Street and window-shopped. “There are a few fun boutiques up the block here,” Charlie was saying, but Bridgett wasn’t listening. Her eyes had homed in on a pair of shoes displayed in a store window. The Kate Spade high heels were covered in pieces of crystal that glittered in the afternoon sun. Bridgett looked at the sign above the door: “Foot Candy.” She handed her bag of edible treats to Charlie. “Here,” she murmured as she pulled the door open. “I’ve found the candy I want.”

  Charlie followed her in, chuckling as she did so. “Buying shoes before the dress. We just might get along after all, Bridgett.”

  Two hours later, Bridgett had a pair of Kate Spade pumps, a matching purse, and a royal blue Stella McCartney cocktail dress that would require wearing a backless bra and a very meager set of panties—all of which the salesclerk happily added to the shopping bag. Bridgett doubted Stuart would let her expense the entire ensemble—even if he wasn’t mad at her. But the afternoon of retail therapy had definitely lifted her spirits.

  Charlie steered the Range Rover back out onto Highway Twenty-nine headed south. “Well, that was more fun than I thought it would be. You’re hiding a bit of a wild streak under those conservative duds, lawyer lady.” She turned on the satellite radio and a song by Train was playing. “I’m beginning to see why my brother likes you.”

  Bridgett went to open her mouth to say Jay was just her client, but she bit back the lie. Charlie laughed out loud as though she could read Bridgett’s mind.

  “Given the way you dress, I’m fairly certain you don’t share a bedroom with all your clients. And from what Josie says, he’s never brought a woman—other than Mom or me—to the vineyard before,” Charlie informed her.

  Glancing out at the sun as it dropped lower over the foothills, Bridgett considered what Charlie was saying. There was no denying Jay more than “liked” her body. But as far as anything more, she just wasn’t sure if she wanted that. He’d been very clear that any relationship they’d have would be physical and not emotional. She just wondered if such a scenario was even possible. They both were holding on to too much anger from that summer. Neither one trusted the other. Her common sense told her to stick to the plan of staying the weekend, then run. Bridgett just hoped her body was able to listen to her common sense come Monday.

  “Hey,” Charlie said, interrupting her thoughts. “If I hire you as my lawyer, you’ll definitely have to uphold the whole attorney-client privilege thingy, right?”

  “I told you your secret is safe with me.”

  “I’m not talking about that secret—although you’d better keep that one or that blogger will be the least of your worries.” She turned the volume on the radio down to make her point. “I mean an even bigger secret.”

  Bridgett was beginning to feel very uncomfortable about their conversation. “I’m sure you have quite a team of lawyers representing your trust fund who get paid very well to keep your secrets.”

  Charlie snorted. “Those old suits? What a bunch of party poopers. I�
��ve been trying to establish a nonprofit for the past two years and all I get is gatekeeping. They make too much money off my father’s portfolio that they don’t want to part with any of it.”

  “But you do?”

  “Well, I don’t want to give it all away. That would be stupid. But it can do a lot of good out there in the world rather than in some hedge fund somewhere. I’ll certainly never need it all.”

  Bridgett was stunned by Charlie’s words. “Wow. That doesn’t sound very Princess Charlotte like.”

  Charlie shrugged. “You of all people should know not to believe what you read in the tabloids. Or on the Internet.” She glanced over and winked at Bridgett. “Although in your case, it looks to be true.”

  Blushing, Bridgett turned back to the window. “My firm doesn’t really handle a lot of nonprofit setup, but I’m sure I can get you a few names of lawyers who’d be happy to help.” She knew all about these firms because once, when she was young and idealistic like Charlie, she’d wanted to pursue nonprofit work.

  “But you can handle setting up a trust for my baby, can’t you? I don’t want my father’s lawyers involved in my child’s life. I need something written out before my condition becomes public knowledge. I’m sure you can knock something out tonight while Jay is at dinner. I’ll pay you triple your rate. Hell, I’ll take you on a shopping spree at Foot Candy.”

  “I—”

  “Please,” Charlie begged. “You already know about the baby, so it’s one less person I have to tell.”

  Bridgett sighed. “Sure. We can draw up the paperwork when we get back.”

  “Awesome! Now you get to find out who my baby’s father is.”

  “There’s no need for me to know that.” Bridgett’s feeling of unease was growing by the minute. Her intuition was telling her that Charlie was putting her in the middle of something and if the plan was for Bridgett to distance herself from Jay after this weekend, knowing the identity of the baby’s father didn’t seem like such a good idea.