Secrets and Seductions

by Francine Pascal

  The extravagance of the glorious lunch and the view and the wine brought a sensual aching that Annie tried hard not to feel. They watched the day slide into the softness of late afternoon.

  They were out of legal talk, both of them. Just from the way Bruce looked at her, the unmistakable intimacy in his eyes, she could feel some of his old confidence coming back. Enough to make her a little uneasy.

  Annie hadn’t slept with anyone since divorcing Charlie. She had been heartbroken, but more than that, she’d been worried about what casual sex might do. It had undone her once before in high school, and she wasn’t about to go there so readily again. But now, sitting here with Bruce on the balcony of this fantasy villa, which was very real, she didn’t know how she would stop herself.

  She tried to remember the awkward fumbling they’d shared in the backseat of his Porsche in high school, but all she could come up with was that he’d been surprisingly tender afterward. He’d even held her a moment. Most boys back then just pulled up their jeans and wanted her out of the car. Bruce had been different.

  Annie gave herself a mental shake. She shouldn’t go there. She couldn’t get involved with a client. Plus, this was Elizabeth’s ex. She knew her friend still had feelings for him. She tried to keep her thoughts anchored there even as undeniable desire tried to blur them. She couldn’t let it.

  “Bruce, I need everything you can remember that might have any bearing on the incident.” Annie asked, trying to wrench the conversation back to work.

  Bruce glanced up. “There is something.” He paused, staring at his wineglass. “But you have to promise me not to tell anyone.”

  “Of course,” Annie said. “I’m your attorney. Anything you tell me is covered under client privilege. You can be completely honest with me.”

  Bruce took a deep breath. “Okay. Well, we’ve known each other a long time, right? You knew me back in high school when I was…well, you know. I wasn’t very nice.”

  “I liked you in high school.” Annie blushed a little as she said this. It felt like she was revealing too much. She was still struggling against the wine.

  Bruce studied Annie’s face a moment. He hadn’t expected that. He thought most people considered him obnoxious. It was one of the reasons he’d avoided the Sweet Valley High reunion a couple of years earlier.

  He continued. “But you know after my parents died in college, well, I did a lot of thinking and self-appraisal and it didn’t come out so well. I made some good decisions then, with Elizabeth’s help. But about that time, I found out that my mom…” Bruce sighed. “She had some emotional problems. She was bipolar.”

  “Oh, Bruce. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s just that she was on medication her whole life. And I know it’s something that can be passed down in the genes. And given that night at the bar with Robin—that I can’t really remember what happened—it makes me wonder if maybe I just blacked out. Maybe there is something wrong with me.”

  “Have you ever been diagnosed?”

  “No, but I’ve gone over that night a thousand times in my mind and, logically, I can’t figure it out. Unless it’s some kind of, I don’t know, sickness. I remember I’m at the bar, and that Robin is this very pretty girl, but she is upset.”

  “Small thing, but I thought you told Elizabeth she wasn’t that pretty.”

  “Well, I just didn’t want to make a big deal about it at the time. But she was very young and very pretty.”

  “I see.”

  “But, I swear, Annie, I only had one drink and there was that thing with the spilled drink and then I got dizzy, and next thing I know, I’m asleep in the office of the bar. That’s all I remember. But what if…I mean, what if I just had some kind of psychotic episode?”

  Annie had never seen Bruce look so vulnerable before. He desperately wanted her help. She reached out and took his hand. It’s what she had wanted to do all afternoon but for entirely different reasons. This was to console, pure succor.

  “Bruce, I know you. There’s nothing wrong with you. I’ve never heard of anyone who wasn’t drinking heavily blacking out like that, and you said you weren’t and you are certain, right?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “So there’s got to be another answer, and it’s not that you’re unstable. You’re the most stable guy I know and that kind of thing just doesn’t come out of the blue.”

  “Right, but what if…I mean, what if…there’s something wrong with me. Okay, maybe not bipolar, but what if that not-so-nice guy from high school is who I really am? What if that girl at the bar, if she brought it out in me? What if this nice-guy routine I’ve been doing since the accident is fake? Maybe I’m just a bad guy.”

  “No, Bruce. You’ve turned into a really good guy. The things you’ve done with Patman Social Impact and the foundation are great. Everyone says so.”

  Annie had defended enough clients to understand that morality in this world was decidedly a gray area. Rarely was something black or white.

  “Hey, look, Bruce, you’re beginning to fight back, that’s all, and sometimes, fighting back doesn’t look so good. But it doesn’t mean you’re wrong to do it. We’re all complicated. Good, bad, whatever. It’s the combination that makes who we are. And being yourself—your real self—is nothing to be ashamed of.”

  What Annie was saying was so simple but so true. He was like everybody else: a mixture of good and bad. He had to stop focusing on what used to be and stop blaming himself. Maybe all this time he’d been trying to bury his past and smother that tougher part of his personality had been a mistake. Maybe he was actually suppressing an essential part of himself.

  He felt a surge of freedom. All this time he’d been trying to stay buttoned-up, and maybe that’s why he was in such trouble. He’d spent so much time fearing the old Bruce that he’d forgotten how powerful the old Bruce was. No one dared mess with him in high school, and it wasn’t because he was a nice guy. If he was going to fight the good fight, he needed some of the cockiness of that old Bruce. Nobody would push him around—not Robin Platt, not Rick Warner. Not even Elizabeth.

  He was done being the nice guy who finished last. He was innocent and he had to believe in himself. That very simple thought came straight from Annie.

  He looked at her, surprised to realize how much he desired this beautiful, smart woman sitting right next to him.

  He’d seen the way she’d been looking at him all afternoon. He knew she felt the same way.

  The new, nice-guy Bruce would never have taken advantage, but the nice guy was a wimp, hiding and letting other people take over his life. Bruce was done being that guy. If he was going to win this case, he needed the power of the old Bruce back, and there was one way he knew he could get it.

  He needed to remember what it was to be a real man, and there wasn’t any better way to do that than by being with a woman.

  He reached out and pulled Annie toward him. She came willingly, her eyes never leaving his. Then their lips touched. Hers went soft and parted, and he knew she was all his. With that kiss, a spark popped that surprised them both. This was no ordinary kiss. Not at all.

  After an intense moment, she pulled away.

  But Bruce wasn’t going to let her get away so easily. He was angry, angry at everything that had happened to him, at everyone who didn’t believe him. Angry at Elizabeth. Furious at her betrayal.

  “Bruce, I don’t know…” Annie stood, but Bruce was right there in front of her.

  “Annie, tell me you didn’t feel that, too. Tell me, and I’ll walk away right now.”

  Annie glanced down. “No, I felt it, too.” She’d felt it all the way down to her toes.

  Bruce went forward into the guest bedroom. Annie followed, drawn by his magnetism, by the promise of what that bed offered. She walked right to him, and he took her into his arms.

  “Bruce…” His lips were on hers again, just as she wanted them to be. Her head was a whirl of confusion: Did she even want this?

  Y
es! Without a doubt, she did.

  Annie’s heart beat fast, and her body came alive. Suddenly they were standing in front of the bed, and then they toppled down onto it.

  Annie’s head felt dizzy with wine and buzzed with Bruce’s fierce kisses. The distant, logical part of her brain told her she needed to stop this. He was her client and the man her best friend loved. But all of that seemed so distant and so irrelevant, and so far away from the south of France and the need that rushed through her body.

  It had been so long since she’d had sex with anyone, and she realized she wanted to make love to Bruce. It was that simple. But it wasn’t.

  What about Elizabeth?

  If she did this, could she ever face her again? And what about the career she’d worked so hard to build? She’d be risking everything if she did this.

  “Annie…” growled Bruce, his face flush with desire, his hands wrapped tightly in her hair. He tugged a little.

  Annie, lying there, panting, looked up at him. His blue eyes met hers, fierce and demanding and full of power. Her heart pounded and her mind raced. Somehow, she felt, this was the moment that could define everything.

  Would she do this? Could she do this?

  He pulled her to him; her lips went soft and wet.

  “Wait,” she murmured as she pulled back.

  “What?” Confusion flickered across Bruce’s face.

  “I don’t want to get carried away,” Annie whispered, her voice low. This was a lie. Part of her did want to be carried away. Far, far away, with Bruce.

  “Annie, come on. Look at what you did to me.” Bruce grabbed Annie’s hand and put it on the front of his pants. Annie could feel exactly what she’d done to him and the thought excited her; she couldn’t deny it.

  “I know, but…” There were so many buts. So much of the real world got in the way. “I don’t want to regret this.”

  “If you tell me to go away I will.”

  She was silent. He moved his hand up along her thigh, under her skirt, and beneath her thong. He found her more than ready for him. She realized how weak her words sounded when her body told him the unflinching truth.

  “Why fight it, Annie?” he said, moving his fingers against her, making her moan. “I know you want me as much as I want you.”

  “Wait…” Annie murmured, trying to focus her thoughts. Everything was moving so fast, and the room seemed like it was spinning. “Wait, Bruce, I’m not sure about this….” And she wasn’t. Not at all. Yes, she wanted to do this, but should she? Could she risk her career—and Elizabeth’s friendship—over a tryst with Bruce?

  As Bruce’s hands roamed up her thigh, sending tingling sensations up her spine, she knew she had to make the decision now. Another moment, an instant more, and it would be too late.

  Chapter Ten

  It might have been just a couple of months since Jessica had been back to work at VertPlus.net, but it seemed like an eternity. No matter how many ideas she pitched, her hostile new boss, Tracy, shot down every one of them.

  “I don’t know why she doesn’t like anything.” Jessica sighed and glanced over at her assistant, Emily. The plain, freckled redhead, wearing too much makeup as usual, shrugged.

  “Well, Tracy just has very high standards.”

  “Excuse me? Are you implying I don’t?” Jessica’s temper flared. Emily needed to learn how to respect her boss.

  “Sorry,” Emily said in a tone just touched with sarcasm. Jessica could never quite tell whether Emily was being sincere.

  “Just watch it,” Jessica warned.

  Every day Jessica worked with Emily, she liked her less. She talked back, had no respect, and as far as Jessica could see, didn’t really do her job. Jessica always had to ask her two or three times to do the simplest things.

  Jessica had brought up the issue with Tracy but had gotten nowhere. “Emily knows her stuff,” Tracy had said flatly. It figured that Tracy would love her, since Emily made it her purpose in life to annoy Jessica.

  Jessica sat back and glanced at the latest thing to hit the reject pile: an “occupy fashion week” promotion where models wearing eco-friendly makeup would pop up with impromptu catwalk struts carrying placards in the middle of fashion week. Jessica thought it was a dynamic, original idea, but Tracy had turned it down flat. In fact, it almost seemed like Tracy had known what Jessica was going to say before she’d even said it, but the only other person Jessica had even talked to about the idea was Emily.

  For a fleeting second, Jessica wondered if that was just coincidence.

  “What’s your next strategy?”

  “I don’t know.”

  A new e-mail arrived in her in-box on her computer screen.

  She glanced up at the notice and groaned. It was from Caroline Pearce. The subject line read: “Thought you’d be interested in this…”

  Jessica had a sinking feeling she wouldn’t like it.

  She opened the e-mail and then clicked the link Caroline had provided. It sent her straight to TMZ, where she saw the headline Liam’s New Flame, Jessica Wakefield, in Bitter Divorce Battle.

  “But I didn’t file!” Jessica leaned forward, trying to devour the news.

  “What is it?” Emily asked, reading over her shoulder. Emily knew no personal boundaries, and Jessica was too shocked to shoo her away.

  The two-paragraph story named her and said she was in the middle of a bitter divorce from her estranged husband, Todd Wilkins. Except that Jessica had never filed for divorce. She swallowed. That must mean…

  “Excuse me,” Jessica said as she clicked the article closed and ran to the bathroom. She didn’t see that Emily slid straight into her desk chair and clicked open the e-mail.

  Jessica stood in front of the mirror in the ladies’ room, breathing hard. Her own stark blue eyes stared back at her, looking as shell-shocked as she felt.

  Todd must have filed for divorce. It was the only explanation. While part of her knew this would be coming, the harsh reality of it still hit her hard. How could he have done this without telling her? They were officially separated, yes, but given all they’d been through in the last three years and that they had a child together…how could he let her find out he’d filed for divorce from Caroline Pearce and TMZ?

  Her heart felt like it was breaking all over again, and the sadness threatened to swallow her whole.

  The unfairness of it ripped through her. He couldn’t call her and let her know he planned to do this?

  The heartache and sadness soon were drowned out with a righteous anger. How could he have done it like this? He must never have really loved her at all if he planned to end things like this.

  She smoothed her hair and lifted her chin. Fine, if this is how he wanted it, she thought. She thought about walking straight to her desk and calling Liam, but realized that he was out of town for a movie shoot. He wouldn’t be back for another week. And she needed someone right now.

  She strode out of the bathroom and immediately spotted Michael Wilson across the office. He was standing near a file cabinet talking to his assistant, and he had his bag slung over one shoulder, like he was headed out the door. It was nearly six, after all.

  Michael glanced up and gave Jessica a tentative, almost shy smile. Something inside Jessica clicked. She knew Michael liked her. So far, he’d been entirely professional, but Jessica knew it wouldn’t take much encouragement to goad him into something more.

  She walked over to him like a woman on a mission.

  “Michael,” she said, touching his arm, “can I talk to you a minute?” Her tone and the way she let her hand linger on his arm had the desired effect. His face lit up like a boy who’d just found a toy at the bottom of his cereal box.

  “Uh, sure, Jessica.”

  “Walk me back to my desk?” Jessica offered.

  “Sure,” Michael said.

  Michael fell into step beside her.

  “I was hoping I could pitch you a couple of ideas before the meeting tomorrow.”

&nb
sp; “Oh.” Michael’s face fell a little as he realized it was business related.

  “I was thinking, though, maybe we could grab a bite to eat?” Jessica stood very close to him and touched his arm again. He’d have to not have a pulse to miss the clear change in vibe as she amped up her flirting.

  “What about your boyfriend?”

  “What boyfriend?” Jessica deliberately played dumb.

  “Oh, I mean, I heard…”

  “Don’t believe all that you hear.”

  “Good point.” Michael glanced at Jessica, looking like a man who’d stumbled upon a winning lotto ticket.

  “So, dinner?”

  “Oh, y-y-yeah, sure. I’d love that.” Michael grinned.

  “Me, too,” Jessica said.

  Chapter Eleven

  Todd sent in his final story from the Lakers game, snapped shut his laptop in the press room, and stood.

  “Hey, Todd, a few of the guys are grabbing a drink. You in?” asked Stuart, the AP wire reporter and one of Todd’s friends.

  Todd shrugged. “Thanks, man, but no, I’m going to pass.”

  “Getting out would do you good.” Stuart nodded toward the newspaper sitting on the table. It was open to yet another picture of Jessica and Liam.

  Todd felt his stomach tighten just looking at it.

  “No, I just don’t feel like it.”

  His colleague nodded and slapped his shoulder.

  He tried not to wear his broken heart on his sleeve, but everyone seemed to know about it anyway. It was getting pathetic. Todd knew it, but he couldn’t quite shake himself of the gloom.

  It had been months now since he’d found out Jessica had lied to him about Liam O’Connor.

  But despite it all, Todd still loved Jessica. He thought he would always love Jessica. There would always be a part of him that would want to be with her. That was why he’d left Le Bouchon that night without a word, why he couldn’t face her once he’d found out the truth. It just hurt too much. He didn’t want her to see him so vulnerable, so raw.

  And part of him had hoped she’d come after him. He knew Jessica Wakefield and understood that she never begged for anything. But he had hoped that she loved him enough to come after him. To explain.