Seducing the Attorney (At First Sight Book 5)

by Janet Lane-Walters

  When he reached the building he left the car in the underground garage. He took the elevator to the penthouse. There he dropped his luggage in the bedroom and strode to the living room. He poured brandy into a snifter. The notes of Beethoven’s Fifth interrupted his soul searching. For a moment panic sent his heart galloping. Lauren. Jamie. He answered and heard the breathy voice of one of his playmates.

  “Tony, why don’t you join me?”

  “Not tonight. I’ll give you a call. Ciao.” He disconnected and sipped brandy. Why hadn’t he accepted the invitation?

  * * *

  With a bouncing Jamie in her arms Lauren watched Tony and his black sports car vanish from the garage. He fled the scene like a criminal racing from the scene of the crime. What had made him dash off? He’d mentioned a client but she hadn’t believed the off-hand remark. There’d been some other reason. She closed the garage door and returned to the living room.

  “Uncle’s gone.”

  “Cool. Cool,” Jamie shouted.

  Lauren laughed. “You’re my mocking bird.”

  “Bir. Bir.”

  Her chuckle halted when she realized Tony hadn’t said more than a few words about Jamie’s care and the estate. There were papers to be examined and the will to be probated. Sure he was an attorney but she had as much right to make decisions as he did.

  Maybe he’d run from what had happened between them. Why? She hadn’t asked for a commitment. She didn’t want one. Nor would he make one. Carrie had told her volumes about Tony’s romantic adventures and how he either couldn’t or wouldn’t settle down.

  The storm of passion had been like a tornado whirling them mindlessly into a dance. There’d been passion without love. The encounter held no traces of the elements for something lasting, trust, respect and caring.

  She found Jamie’s jacket, donned hers and set out for a walk. As she alternated between walking and running she thought about the past two days. From belligerence to bed. He had agreed to joint custody. Would she have Jamie on weekends so Tony could pursue a social life? Her class schedule would curtain her time with her nephew. Though she didn’t like the idea there was a plus. She could stay in the condo. Not having to pay rent meant she could afford to pay the sitter without dipping into the cash she’d found in a kitchen drawer.

  Back at the condo as she lifted Jamie from the stroller her phone chimed. She juggled her nephew and connected. Someone spoke in fast time. “Grace, settle down.”

  “The shop will be mine on Monday when I sign the lease. Sweet and Spicy Bites will open as soon as I organize. Still willing to give me a hand?”

  “You know I am.”

  “All I need is a place to stay until I can find an apartment. The Patons will let me park in the driveway but there’s no room for a boarder.”

  “Stay with me.”

  “Isn’t your apartment too small?”

  Laurel sucked in a breath. There’d been no time to talk to her friend since the deaths. “Carrie and Jim were killed in a car accident. I’m at their condo.”

  “Lauren, how awful. What about the baby?”

  “He’s fine.”

  “And you? How are you handling things?”

  “The funeral was Friday so I’m coping. You can stay and help with the utilities and I’ll help in the shop.”

  “Are you sure? What about Jim’s brother? Isn’t he some kind of high-price lawyer? What if he takes over and pushes you out?”

  “He’s agreed to joint custody and for me to live here. He left for the city an hour or so ago.”

  “And if he returns.”

  “We’ll figure something.” She laughed. “He might enjoy a threesome.”

  Grace gasped. “My friend, you’re evil. I’ll pass.”

  “So will I but he likes women.”

  “And sex?”

  “That too.”

  “Give me directions. I’ll come. We’ll talk and then I’ll decide for how long I’ll stay.”

  Chapter Four

  Lauren hung her jacket on a hook and removed Jamie’s. “Grace is coming,” she said. “Grace.”

  “Gr. Gr.”

  She laughed. “You’ll be a hit.” She thought about her friend, the only person she’d kept in touch with during her few weeks of incarceration in the group home so long ago.

  She tucked Jamie under her arm and dashed upstairs to change the linens on the bed in the master bedroom. She wanted no silent witness to the bargaining area.

  Lauren placed Jamie on the floor and closed the door to confine his exploration. She stripped the bed. One of the pillow cases held the scent of Tony’s aftershave. Pungent spice. A pulsing began deep in her belly.

  Done that. Won’t again.

  After making the bed she tossed the linens down the stairs and carried Jamie to the laundry room where she set the washer to run. She carried a basket of dried laundry to the living room and folded clothes.

  The doorbell rang to announce a guest. Lauren ran to answer. Grace stepped inside. Lauren hugged her. “So good to see you. It’s been much too long.” She grabbed Jamie before he stepped outside.

  Grace chuckled. “Good to see you, too.” She touched the baby’s cheek. “He’s handsome.”

  “I’ll open the garage door and you can pull the van inside. Will make unpacking easier.”

  “I figured you would insist I stay.” She grinned at Jamie. “He has your eyes.”

  “That’s his sole heritage from Carrie. The rest if pure Carlin.”

  Lauren popped Jamie in the highchair and went to help Grace. A few minutes of persuasion and she convinced her friend to stay for more than a night. They carried a twin bed and dresser plus several boxes and two suitcases inside. The supplies for the bakery were left in the van.

  Lauren led her best friend to the master bedroom to unpack while she fed Jamie. She heated the remains of last night’s dinner, cooked fresh pasta and made a salad. She nuked the rest of the garlic bread and put two cannoli’s on the table.

  “Smells wonderful,” Grace said. “You been taking cooking lessons?”

  Lauren laughed. “I’ve progressed to sauce from a jar. Tony cooked.”

  “The man’s a keeper.”

  “Not in a zillion years. He has no intention of complicating his life with relationships that last. Me either. Until I finish school and have a job I’ve sworn off men.”

  “Pity. Can you help me Tuesday and Wednesday to help set up the shop? Tomorrow I’ll be signing papers and calling workmen.”

  “Tuesday afternoon is good. I’ve class in the morning. All day Wednesday I’m free but I’ll need to bring Jamie. Can’t spend too much on sitters.”

  Grace frowned. “Is Mr. Carlin giving you full custody?” That could make your days rough.”

  “We’re sharing. Once he hires a nanny he’ll let me know which days will be mine.”

  “Won’t switching be hard on Jamie?”

  “He’s young enough to adapt. We’ll need to set general rules like meal times, bed time and discipline methods. No matter where he is a routine is good.”

  “Guess he will adapt better than you did at the group home but you were a teen.”

  “Who didn’t like the Paton’s idea of rules. They allowed us no time to relax and dream.”

  Grace leaned forward. “Their rules suited me. Give me the skinny on Tony.”

  Lauren laughed. “See the picture of Jim. Tony has the same dark hair and blue eyes. He’s taller, leaner, broader shoulders and his features were sharper. He’s opinionated.”

  Grace sighed. “He sounds yummy. Did you fall for him?”

  “We started as two rams butting heads until we managed to compromise on our plans for Jamie.”

  “And?”

  “Had hot sex last night. I went to class and when I came home he departed like there was a rocket up his butt.”

  “Maybe he’s spooked because he’s falling for you.”

  Lauren twirled pasta on her fork. “Doubtful. The man’s onl
y interested in the moment. I was his flavor of the weekend.”

  “I’m not so sure.”

  “You weren’t here.” She wouldn’t mind an occasional night in his arms but she had no time for an extended engagement.

  * * *

  On Monday Tony dashed from his apartment and jogged the four blocks to his office. He needed to check on what had happened Friday, confer with his partners and parcel work to the associates and paralegals. All before one o’clock. This afternoon’s meeting with the nanny agency was a must. He prayed there was an available woman for Jamie. He had a duty to assume his part of the guardianship.

  At quarter after twelve he finished the last memo. A knock rattled the door. “Come in,” he called.

  Jules, his friend he used as an investigator strode in. “Lunch?”

  “If we can hit the food truck around the corner.”

  Jules shuddered, “Not my style. How was the wedding? Couldn’t book a flight back in time to attend.”

  “Never made it either.” Tony rose. “My brother and sister-in-law were killed in a car accident Wednesday morning. Funeral was on Friday so I couldn’t head to the wedding on Saturday.”

  “Sorry to hear that. Didn’t they recently move here from California?”

  Tony reached for the door. “They did and I didn’t see them as often as I should have.” He clamped his guilty feelings. “Tell you what. Since you won’t eat my lunch choice, drop by the apartment around six. I’ll cook and we can catch up. I’ll need a break. Have to interview nannies for my nephew. He’s ten months old.” He strode to the elevator.

  Jules walked at his side. “Good luck. See you at six. What should I bring?”

  “An appetite and a good white wine.”

  “You’ve got it.” Jules darted across the street.

  Tony stopped at the food cart. “Dog, mustard, kraut. Coffee.” As he walked toward the agency’s office he ate lunch.

  At one he arrived at the receptionist’s desk. “Tony Carlin to see Mrs. Bunche. I have an appointment.”

  The woman pressed a button. “Your one o’clock is here.”

  Moments later a thin woman appeared. “Mr. Carlin, follow me. We can finish your application. There are several women for you to interview.” She led him to a conference room and placed a series of forms in front of him. Once Tony read and signed, she handed him a blank piece of paper. “I need a sketch of your apartment. Show me the rooms for the nanny and the baby.”

  “I see no reason why she can’t share the guest room with my nephew.” He quickly made a sketch of the apartment.

  “Sharing the room will not do. Show me the rest of the layout.”

  Tony divided the picture into rooms. “There you are.”

  She tapped the study. “The nursery will go here and the guest room for the nanny since it has a private bathroom.”

  “Just a minute.” He tapped the paper. “This is my study. I often bring work home.”

  “Mr. Carlin, you want a live-in nanny. She desires her privacy. You must arrange for evening coverage unless you’re willing to take charge. You must arrange coverage for her days off. Our nannies aren’t the child’s mother.” She pointed to his bedroom. “I’m sure there’s room for a desk in here.”

  Her attitude made him clench his teeth. “Before we continue there are changes in the schedule. The nanny will be needed for four days Thursday through Sunday. This is a joint custody affair.”

  “I see. The fee will be the same since our contract calls for our nannies to work a five day week, not counting their sleep time. I have several candidates for the next three weeks. You can speak to them and tell them of the changes. Perhaps one will help out until your apartment changes are made.” She handed him a folder.

  Tony groaned. “About the rooms. That will take several weeks.”

  “You can inform the selected candidates and hope the one you choose isn’t offered another position. Read these and I’ll send the women in one at a time.”

  The moment she left Tony examined the contents.”

  Two hours later he wanted to punch a wall. The first candidate a twenty something rejected a four day week and demanded weekends off. The second an older woman wanted Wednesday and Sunday off. The third refused to work past five or start before nine.

  His head pounded. He dropped the folder with the receptionist. “Tell Mrs. Bunche I’ll need to interview other candidates at my office not here.”

  Instead of returning to his office he hailed a cab. He couldn’t concentrate on clients and cases today. A call to his secretary cleared the rest of the afternoon. Maybe Jules could come up with a plan.

  Tony stopped at the market and made several purchases. At the apartment he tossed his overcoat, his tie and jacket on the sofa and poured a brandy. He stared at the phone. He’d promised Lauren a report on the search. He dialed the number. A strange woman answered. “Carlin residence.”

  Disappointment washed over him. “Is Lauren at school? I didn’t think she had a class today.”

  “Who is this?”

  “Tony Carlin. Who are you?”

  “Grace Reese, Lauren’s friend. She’s upstairs. I’ll call her.”

  Tony sipped the brandy and tapped his foot on the carpet. When Lauren spoke he put the snifter down. “How is Jamie?” What he really wanted to know was if she had missed him. What a fool he’d been to run. For a time her voice flowed through him. As his body responded he groaned.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  He pulled out of a developing fantasy. “Not really. Finding a nanny sucks. I have to rearrange my apartment and mortgage my soul.”

  “That bad?”

  “I’m exaggerating. Interviewed three who didn’t suit. Do you mind being sole care-taker for awhile longer?”

  “No problem. I’ll let my group of sitters know.”

  “Since I’ve fallen down on the job I’ll pay for the sitters.”

  “Thank you. Call when you have news.”

  Was she blowing him off? Didn’t she want to talk to him? He shook his head. Why would she want to? Jamie was their only bond except for a night of incredible sex.

  “Has Jamie done anything new?”

  “He’s pulling himself up and I think he’ll be walking soon.” She laughed.

  “Just a minute. Jamie, say hello to your uncle.”

  “Cool. Cool.”

  Tony chuckled. “Hi.” What do you say to a baby?

  “No.” Lauren laughed again. “He tried to eat the phone.”

  “Not very nourishing. I’m surprised he remembers me.”

  “Why wouldn’t he?”

  What about you? The question lingered on his tongue. The doorbell rang. “Sorry. I have to go. A friend is here for dinner. Call you soon?”

  “If there’s a problem with Jamie, I’ll let you know. Bye.”

  “Ciao.” He disconnected and walked to the door.

  Jules held a bottle of chilled white wine and a platter. “Finger food. I’m early. Called your office. Your secretary said you hadn’t returned from your meeting. How did the search go?”

  “Horrible.” Tony carried the wine to the kitchen. “No luck. From what I understand I’ll need at least two and they won’t share a room with Jamie.”

  “Figures.” Jules carried the platter to the living room and poured a snifter of bourbon. “Tell me about your nephew and his aunt.”

  Tony topped his glass and sprawled on the leather couch. “His name is Jamie. Her name is Lauren.”

  Jules asked. “Available?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Attractive? Receptive?”

  Tony opened the tray of appetizers and dipped a shrimp in cocktail sauce. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

  Jules sat on a chair and sipped his drink. “She could solve your problems.”

  “Won’t work.” Tony took another shrimp. “Can’t happen. She’s in school working for her Master’s.”

  Jules grinned. “I think you’re hooked. Looks
like I’ll be the only one not to settle down. Matt’s playing tag with some woman he met over the weekend.”

  “At the inn?”

  “Nah. He bolted from the reception and crashed his bike. Wasn’t hurt but she rescued him. Seems he knew her in high school and lost touch. It’s the Blakefield curse.”

  Tony frowned. He had his own curse. One set by his father. He finished his drink, ate several more shrimp and walked to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

  Jules followed. “I still think you’re next.”

  “No way.”

  “You protest too much.”

  “One of these days the bug will knock you off your feet.”

  Jules sat at the island. “What’s on the menu?”

  “Pasta Alfredo, scallops in wine sauce and salad.” Tony put the ingredients on the counter. “Need you to take a look see for me. Lauren’s taken on a house mate. Name’s Grace Reese. Do a check.”

  Jules arched a brow. “Why?”

  “Lauren had a troubled past. Was a runaway from a group home. Don’t want anyone or anything from her past to make trouble for Jamie.”

  “Be a few days before I can. I’m on a quest for Good Cookin’. Allie has me scouring the country for cupcakes. She wants to feature several bakeries.”

  Tony tore greens for a salad. He wasn’t sure why he wanted the check done. He trusted Lauren. That was a first.

  * * *

  Lauren clung to the phone and listened to the dial tone. What was wrong with her? A friend had arrived at his apartment for dinner. That shouldn’t bother her but it did. After feeding the woman he would engage in mind-rocking sex. Lauren remembered in vivid detail her night with him.

  She straightened and replaced the receiver in the cradle. You are an idiot. You have no strings on him. Tony was a man who liked women and had no intention of settling down with anyone. That was her plan. She had no time to waste in building connections.