Still, despite the partners’ notable accomplishments, clients who offered tropical escapes to exclusive, fully furnished villas on private islands in The Bahamas didn’t come around every day.
“Is it just me or does it seem like Line isn’t comprehending all the fringe benefits of this getaway?”
“He’s just stressing over which of his many playmates to bring.”
Tig laughed over Eli’s remark. “Not to worry, Line. According to the list of amenities, the place is segmented into ten suites. You can bring at least two of your playmates.”
“At least,” Eli agreed.
“We can’t forget Bark though. He’ll need a place to tuck away one of his guests.” Tig referred to another close friend from the before-they-could-talk stage, Barker Grant.
“Bark isn’t all that showy.” Eli smirked. “Most likely he’ll be content with just one playmate. Line’s in a whole different league.”
“Hell yeah, he is.” Tig smiled, nodding. “Alright, Line, if B’s good with one guest, you can bring upwards of four lucky beauties. Tucked away in their own suites, everyone should be happy.”
Eli grinned, and it seemed as though full-blown laughter would soon follow. Linus muttered an obscenity as he pushed back from the table. The movement diffused the good vibes circulating the room. Linus left without another word. The door slamming at his back sent frowns passing between his friends.
“Something I said?” Tig queried.
Eli shook his head, gaze still fixed on the conference room door. “No different than usual. We always give him grief about all the women he juggles.”
“Yeah.” Tig set aside the villa photos, having lost interest in them. “Guess there comes a time when a joke’s been told too many times.”
“Mmm... I don’t think that’s it though.” Eli’s gaze was still on the door. “Line’s seemed...off for a while now. I noticed it when we got back from Cortina for your wedding.”
“From Rook’s place?” Tig referenced the home their friend kept in the small Italian province. “Think we should talk to him?” Tig shrugged at the skeptical look he got in return.
“You really want to do that while his temper is up?” Eli mused.
“Right.” Tig wagged a finger in the air. “We’ll wait ’til he’s cooler.”
Both men were well aware that a temper surge from Linus Brooks could be akin to setting a lit match to gasoline. They knew the man had made great strides in controlling the darkness when it took hold. They were also smart enough to know better than to tempt fate.
“Right,” Elias said in response to Tig’s suggestion. “We’ll wait.”
Boston, Massachusetts
Caught up in the moment. That’s all it’d been. That’s all it could ever be.
Paula Starker massaged her temples and then drew her fingers through the plump dark ringlets that covered her head in a flirty bob. Silently, she ordered the words to take hold of her psyche and convince her of their truth.
Linus had just been caught up in the moment; that’s where all his...insane talk had come from. She began to tap her fingers to her forehead to convince the idea to take root. She couldn’t quite make it stick, and knew the girl inside her was to blame. That was what happened when a woman went to war with the girl she’d been.
Paula had been sensing that girl—her former self—creeping closer to the surface of her consciousness ever since she’d seen Linus at the hospital following Sophie’s accident during her investigation of a previous case. All it had taken was a look from him to have the girl clamoring back to the surface. When he’d taken her hand to shake it, the girl had nearly swooned.
Paula couldn’t begrudge the girl her desires. More than anything, she wanted to give in to them too. The woman in her though...the woman was who she was now. Back then, the woman had swept in heroically to save the girl from being consumed by waves of self-pity. While the girl had only cared about being back in the arms of Linus Brooks, the woman had wanted to know why Linus Brooks had crushed her heart and left it to rot.
“Stop!” Paula gave a violent shake of her head. She was making too much of this now. Besides, she’d pretty much set him straight before storming off that beach in Mexico anyway.
The woman wanted answers, but she was also just fine with keeping things as they were. Yes, she deserved answers about the night things had changed between them so long ago. If she got them though...if she got them and her heart melted for him again... Paula knew neither the girl nor the woman would survive that kind of hurt twice in a lifetime.
Resting her head against the seat back, Paula studied the house at the top of the long winding brick drive.
“Hope you’ve got some words of wisdom, Professor B.” She sighed and rolled her window down to speak into the callbox outside the iron gates securing the home of Dr. Miranda Bormann, Esquire. Paula’s former professor and mentor had been her go-to source for answers to life’s most perplexing questions.
Paula sure hoped the woman hadn’t lost her knack for issuing excellent advice.
* * *
She ascended the wide front steps with more confidence than appreciation. Paula knew her confidence was most likely due to the fact that Miranda Bormann had been the one to reach out to request a visit. While Paula had kept healthy contact with her favorite professor over the years, she was usually the one to connect with offers to get together for dinner or a quick chat over afternoon tea, or coffee as it were.
She smiled, flexing her fingers around the handle of the paper bag she carried. The package contained a tin of Bormann’s favorite French roast. As district attorney of a major city, it had been difficult for Paula to keep to a consistent schedule of visits, but she made a tremendous effort.
It was nice to be visiting by Bormann’s invitation, rather than by her own request. Still, the technicalities didn’t change the fact that Paula was in need of serious mentoring just then. Her troubled past and recent encounter with Linus Brooks weren’t the only things wreaking havoc on her mind now.
Paula was poised to ring the bell when the broad pine door opened before her. She laughed, surprised and delighted to be met by the hostess herself.
Miranda Bormann personified what it meant to retire well. One reason was because the woman considered herself a lifelong student. She’d taken to acquiring firsthand knowledge of the world around her once she’d resigned from her tenure as a renowned law professor. The various LISTSERVs and web groups Paula subscribed to often reported on what hidden corner of the world Bormann had travelled to.
Understated elegance was the phrase that often followed a mention of Miranda Bormann’s name. Her papers and lectures also graced the shelves of some of the finest libraries in the world.
Bormann, however, was no diva. She was happy whether she was speaking over commencement exercises at a major university or working tirelessly in her greenhouse or outdoor flower garden. When the woman answered the door now, it was obvious she’d been getting her hands dirty.
“Looks like I’m dressed for work.” Paula spread her hands to indicate her worn jeans, sneakers and the lightweight sweatshirt under her jacket.
“For a change,” Miranda Bormann scoffed, but her sky-blue eyes were sparkling playfully as she assessed the younger woman’s attire. “It’s usually Prada or Gucci with you. Get in here.” Bormann pulled Paula into a tight embrace, which was followed by a cheek kiss.
“You always said clothes make the woman,” Paula noted when they pulled apart and she presented Bormann with the coffee.
“Ooh!” the noted professor cooed. She sniffed inside the bag as though the aroma of the freshly ground beans was wafting from the can.
“Nooo,” she said, her freckled nose scrunching in disagreement to Paula’s words. “I said perfectly pressed clothes make the woman. Invest in a good iron, and folks won’t know whether you’re in Coco Chanel or
JC Penney. Now let’s see if this tastes as good as it smells.” Bormann hugged the bag close and led the way from the foyer.
“I was surprised to get your call,” Paula said as she followed. “I’m usually the one bugging you for a visit.”
“You never bug me! You keep me spry!” Bormann declared as she took the long corridor to her kitchen at a speed that had Paula sprinting to keep up.
“Glad to hear that.”
Bormann’s quick steps slowed, and she turned to eye Paula speculatively. “What’s that tone?”
Paula shrugged. “Life stuff.”
The playful sparkle in Bormann’s eyes turned sly. “A young man?”
Paula laughed. “We aren’t so young anymore.”
Bormann stuck out her tongue. “You’re a baby. Hank and I broke up four times before we were married and made a go of it for fifty-two years.” She raised thin, perfectly arched brows.
Again, Paula laughed. “It’s complicated.”
“It always is, my love.” Bormann turned and continued her trek down the corridor. “So...young man troubles and? Anything more to go on the day’s agenda?” She breezed into the airy kitchen that looked to be half the size of a football field.
Paula took her place on one of the cushioned high-back stools dotting the long wood-grained island that separated the cooking space from a cozy breakfast nook and sunken den area. “The rest is about work.”
“New case?” Bormann asked while scanning the labeling on the coffee tin.
“No.” Paula focused on the invisible design she traced into the island top. “And I’m thinking about keeping it that way.”
Bormann looked every bit the hard-nosed professor then as she eyed her former student. She set down the coffee tin and moved closer to Paula at the island. “Keeping it that way as District Attorney Paula Starker, or Paula Starker, Esquire?”
“I’m pretty sure District Attorney Paula Starker is history.” Paula slumped against the stool back. “I’m not running for reelection. As for Paula Starker, Esquire... I’m not sure yet.”
“That last case really got to you,” Bormann noted, and began toying with the end of her dark braided ponytail.
“In a pretty big way.” Paula saw no point in denying it.
There was no need to provide details. Paula’s last case had made front page headlines nationwide. The inner workings of the Philadelphia Police Department had been a hot topic for months following the news of a money laundering scandal that had brought down several members of the department.
“It’s not easy to prosecute cops you’ve worked with. I’ve bought Christmas presents for some of their kids and—” Paula couldn’t continue. Her thoughts went to top members of the brass and even police academy instructors.
“I almost lost my best friend in the mix,” she added, thinking of Chief of Detectives Sophia Hail-Rodriguez, who’d been targeted when she’d gotten too close to the truth. “That one hit way too close to home.” She shuddered while shaking her head. “I’ve had enough, Professor B. I mean I—I still love the law. I... I just don’t know what my place is in it anymore.”
“And how does your young man fit into this?”
“He doesn’t.”
Bormann smiled when Paula snapped the words.
Paula silently ordered herself to take it down a notch. “He’s a whole other pile of crap-drama, I mean.”
“Ah! So there’s love there.”
Paula looked confused. “Well, I just called him a pile of crap, so...”
Bormann seemed tickled. Clasping her hands, she grabbed the tin and turned for her coffeemaker. “We’ll discuss him first before we get to the real shitty part of the agenda.”
Paula noticed the woman was carrying a folder once she’d put the coffee on and turned back to the island.
“Before we talk about him, I’ve got no real advice to give about your political decisions other than to list all the pros and cons, weigh them dispassionately before you choose.” Bormann slid the folder across the wood-grain countertop to Paula.
“I can’t imagine what all it must take to be a DA,” she continued. “There are aspects to that job that can affect your decisions in ways I’m not capable of anticipating. As for your law career, I can tell you that there are all kinds of ways to serve. Maybe you need to find a new way.”
Paula glanced at the folder and smiled. “Will I find a way in there?”
Bormann shrugged. “Maybe a career in private practice could be your calling. If so, consider that—” she tapped the folder “—my request to become your first client.”
Paula’s smile vanished when her jaw dropped.
Chapter 2
He should’ve waited. He should’ve waited before pressing her to talk or to let him talk—explain. He had pressed though, and what had that gotten him except her telling him where to go? She’d reminded him with scalding efficiency of just how much he’d hurt her.
Now, three weeks later, that moment still maintained prime position in his head. She’d pretty much told him he had no chance with her, and yet he’d spent the better part of his time since the ill-fated encounter on the beach assuring himself that this wasn’t over.
He couldn’t fathom why he was so sure of that now, when they’d been out of each other’s lives for ages. Linus knew why, of course. Paula had never been out of his head. Not really. Such a thing wasn’t possible when she was the district attorney in the city he lived in.
Paula Starker was a frequent presence on his TV screen when a new case required her input for the evening broadcast. Not only that, but as a public figure—a beautiful public figure—her private life was also prime fodder for the rumor mill.
Linus could’ve done without all the buzz on the latest athlete, actor or musician she’d been seen on the town with. Still, when the odd occasion arose where they wound up at the same event, he managed to make himself scarce. He made himself scarce when what he really wanted was to rip out the intestines of the latest idiot who thought to claim what was his. What used to be his, he reminded himself.
Such torture, however, didn’t stop him from tuning in for the gossip. The celebrity involvements rarely lasted beyond a date or two. When she’d been caught out with someone he didn’t recognize and those outings numbered beyond four...those were the times his heart seized in his chest. Those were the times he feared she was lost to him for good.
The fact that she wasn’t lost to him for good gave him hope. Seeing her on that beach, though...witnessing the sheen of tears in her eyes not spilled...
He’d hurt her in the past, badly. Regardless of how much he assured himself that all wasn’t hopeless between them now, there was no going forward until he told her why. He’d lost it that night, demolished the place that was meant to signify a defining moment in their futures. It was the place he’d planned to ask her to be his wife.
Linus sensed a numbness along his forearm and saw that his drawn fist was to blame. He had long since triumphed over the anger—the rage—that had ruled him. There were times, however, when he believed he hadn’t triumphed at all—that the demons had only lain in wait for the perfect thing to destroy.
It had been that way when he’d found Paula. He’d gone years without an episode, even joined his best friends on a completely bold venture to revamp an already successful and revered company. Linus had been the outspoken visionary behind Joss Construction when he met the ambitious new lawyer with future designs on turning the Philly political scene on its ear by becoming the city’s first black female DA.
Life had been good then, and their chemistry had been explosive. Now, Linus’s appetite for women had little to do with conquests and more to do with hope. It was the hope that a woman out there could make him forget Paula Starker. He didn’t think such a woman existed. Their emotions had delved far beneath the shallow physical allure to collide with so
mething far more powerful. The surface attraction, however, had done a total number on him. The confident lawyer with the nonstop curves had had him cold.
Linus had wanted Paula in the most desperate way, but he’d wanted more than the delights her body promised. He’d sensed a kinship—a connection of the spirit that surpassed the physical—and he had wanted to see where things could go between them. Such was not to be, and the blame for that rested right at his feet. He wanted—needed—to make it right. More than that, he wanted her back, wanted her to be his, the way she always should’ve been. His and his alone.
But what of the demons? The demons had waited ever so patiently to unleash their havoc-wreaking frenzy until he had been literally days away from securing a future with Paula. Giving her an explanation for that night and then just walking away wasn’t an option for him. Neither was hurting her again.
Besides that, giving her an explanation—the one she deserved—meant revisiting a place he had sworn he was done with. A place that made him feel like nothing more than the scared kid he’d been instead of the accomplished man he’d become.
There was a sound on his office door that barely passed for a knock. Linus turned to see his partners hovering just past the threshold. Their wary expressions brought a much-needed smile to his face. Despite the smile, he had to wave them in before they moved any farther beyond the doorway.
“Este says you’ve been in here all afternoon.” Tig referred to Linus’s assistant, Estella Mays.
“Yeah,” was Linus’s only confirmation.
Tig looked helplessly to Eli, and both men appeared to be holding out little hope that their friend’s mood had improved.
“So how’d the rest of the meeting go?”
Linus’s query seemed to be the olive branch Tig and Eli needed. Noticeably more comfortable, they moved a little farther into the office.
Seductive Memory Page 2