Sweet Seduction

by Camilla Stevens

  Spencer stared hard at Patrick for a few seconds, then turned his attention to James, settling back into his chair like a petulant child.

  “Okay fine, shoot,” he said with a heavy sigh.

  “There are two kinds of brilliant lawyers in the world, Patrick. Those that charm the pants off people and those who scare the pants off people.”

  James had immediately cornered Patrick when Spencer had finally kicked them out, still ranting and raving, though surprisingly appeased. Now he was sitting in the comfortable conversational area in the corner of James’ office.

  Patrick wasn’t surprised he’d been ushered here. Frankly, he was surprised it hadn’t happened when he had first come back from Olla a month ago. Sure, James had raised an eyebrow at the amount of the settlement, but ten years of goodwill had kept him from saying anything about it. Now it looked as though that goodwill had run out.

  “Do you know the reason I hired you after just one summer? Because you have the rare ability to do both equally well. Up until now, I’ve had no regrets. Sure, you can be a bit brusque with Spencer, who I might remind you is the person we both represent and who pays our income. And yes, you may have taken a bit too much advantage of the plethora of women who populate the lot at any given time, but I ignored it because you got the job done.

  “But this? This case, Patrick, from start to finish has been a perfect, pardon my language, shit storm. Kevin Day is on the warpath.”

  “Kevin Day is fine. Christ, people are already saying how that tiny scar on his forehead gives him the hardcore image he’s been lacking all this time.”

  “Yes, we know Kevin Day is fine. Kevin Day knows Kevin Day is fine. But Kevin Day’s ego isn’t fine, and this business is all about egos.

  “But getting to my point,” he gave Patrick a warning glance to prevent further interruptions. “No lawyer goes their whole career without having that one case that pricks at their conscience or emotions or...heart.” He raised an eyebrow at Patrick who remained impassive.

  “Do you know why I came to work for Lion Studios after being an agent for almost 20 years?”

  Patrick didn’t. No one did. All anyone knew was that one day James was one of the best agents to the top names in Hollywood, the next he had moved on to the new movie studio in town, helping it become the success that it was.

  James tented his fingers and looked out at the surprisingly picturesque view of the 101 freeway below them. “I had a client,” he said quietly, “probably nothing like Ms. Brown, but she got to me all the same. Sudden fame can wreak havoc on a person, especially if they don’t already have a mentally stable foundation. And Sylv—this woman was very troubled. But I cared for her, perhaps more than I should have. Each time she had to go to rehab, her pleas got to me, despite everything my common sense said to me. Over and over, I’d pull her out until….”

  He stared out the window for a moment longer, then shook his head and turned to give a sad smile to Patrick.

  “I had to come to a decision after that. The constant massaging of egos, placating of tantrums, demands for more and more had been weighing on me for a while. Yes, I was excellent at what I did, but I realized my heart wasn’t in it anymore. When Spencer offered me a position here I jumped at it. The chance to build something from the ground up instead of...well, glorified babysitting.

  “To this day, I still love it here. Yes, Spencer is his own form of prima donna, but in the end he has a level head on his shoulders and he’s earned it. The point is,” he leaned in closer to Patrick and gave him a direct look, “I’ve found my place in the world. Perhaps you need to think about where your place is.”

  He leaned back. “Since Spencer has agreed to your little scheme, I’m sending you back up to Olla to handle it personally,” he gave Patrick an annoyed twist of the lips, “since you seem to have a ‘working’ relationship with Layla Brown and this man Saul, who I’m actually quite impressed with.”

  “While you’re up there you might want to figure out what you want in your life…and whether it’s worth it.”

  12

  “Oh my God, you guys!” Bree said as she bounded into the little kitchenette where Layla was having morning coffee and banana-nut bread with Di-Anne. She had been there almost every morning since Di-vine Delectables was “closed for business.” These days her uniform had become gradually more casual than her bakery days. With no bakery to oversee, she was wearing a University of Pennsylvania t-shirt and shorts.

  “Do you know anything about knocking first, young lady?” Di-Anne chided, calmly taking a sip of her coffee.

  “So lock your doors,” Bree retorted. “Just because you live in Olla doesn’t mean you can’t get murdered or ra—”

  “What is it, Bree?” Layla interrupted with an indulgent smile.

  “You!” Bree said, bouncing up and down and shoving the magazine Layla just now noticed in her hand toward her. It was Variety magazine, which Layla thought was odd. Then she put it together with her Lion Studios mess and looked up sharply across the table at Di-Anne. The coffee mug had stopped halfway up to her lips.

  Layla took the magazine with trembling fingers, ignoring Bree’s oblivious yammering as she bounced up and down.

  Napa Valley Baker Takes a Bite Out of Lion Studios’ Latest Film.

  Lion Studios’ found itself slapped with a lien against its latest Nick Zane movie which is expected to be its highest grossing film this year. The lien was placed on the film by the owner of Di-vine Delectables bakery, Layla Brown.

  The cause for the lien is unknown. However, it is no doubt related to a settlement agreement between Ms. Brown and Lion Studios. The settlement agreement was a result of the on-set mishap during filming in which Kevin Day drove a stunt car into the Di-vine Delectables bakery. A lien is usually the result of non-payment of a debt owed.

  This lien gives the Olla baker the rights to any movie profits, which could easily lead into the tens of millions of dollars….

  Twice. They had used her name twice.

  Layla placed the magazine down on the table and closed her eyes as she waited for her heart to start beating again. She felt Di-Anne’s warm comforting hand cover hers. Her eyes came open reluctantly and her fears were mirrored by the worried glance from her former nanny across the table.

  “What’s up with you two?” Bree asked in an incongruously cheery voice. She plucked the magazine from Layla’s limp grip and looked at it. “Mario’s grandmother was the one who saw it. You know how she is about celebrities. I mean 10 million dollars? That’s insane Layla! You should be—“

  “Bree, sweetheart,” Di-Anne said patiently. “Perhaps you should give us a moment.”

  Bree just stared back and forth between the two of them in disbelief. Then she read the unspoken communication between the women sitting in front of her telling her that she was out of the loop on something major, something they had no intention of sharing with her at that moment.

  She gently placed the magazine back on the table. “I’ll just leave this with you,” she said quietly and backed out.

  Before she left the kitchen Layla called out after her. “Bree,” the girl turned her head,“knowing Mrs. Gonzalez this is no doubt all over town by now, but…the fewer other people that know about this, the better.”

  Bree gave her an understanding nod, then slipped out.

  “I know what you’re worried about and you can stop right now,” Di-Anne said in the firm no-nonsense tone she had used on Layla since she was a child.

  “How can I? They used my name?”

  “Your given name,” Di-Anne pointed out.

  Layla gave her an unconvinced look. “Boris knows my given name, Di.”

  “But what are the odds he actually reads Variety magazine?”

  “You don’t honestly think this is the only publication that has picked up this story, do you?” she replied. “They’ve got my name, the town I live in, even the bakery! I thought coming here, to such a small town, with you…. He didn’t even
know about you, at least not your full name, or how to spell it properly. I haven’t been in touch with any of my friends or relatives or…. My God, I just got so sloppy! What was I thinking?”

  She put her head in her hands despairingly.

  “If only Saul hadn’t come up with this crazy scheme,” Di-Anne said frowning into her coffee.

  “Don’t blame Saul,” Layla said, her head popping back up. “He didn’t know about Boris. Besides, he’s been a Godsend in all of this; Not just as an attorney, but as a friend.” She gave a meaningful look to Di-Anne, who absently smoothed her hair back the way she did anytime Saul came up. Layla gave as much of a smile as she could muster.

  “At least this will get me the money I’m owed, far more than I expected.” Her eyes grew wide at the implication and she looked over to see Di-Anne’s face reflect the same thought. “Oh my God, the money. Tens of millions?”

  Layla felt herself start to hyperventilate.

  Di-Anne reached over and grabbed her hands. “Maybe this is your opportunity to end this nonsense. Then you can stop living your life hiding out, constantly in fear of any ounce of publicity.”

  That was the first thing Di-Anne had suggested when Layla rolled into town and explained her situation. Di-Anne didn’t understand though.

  A chill of pure terror went through her body as she remembered….

  She nearly jumped out of her skin when her cell phone rang. Layla reached into her purse and saw that it was Saul. His cheerful tone, again completely incongruent with the current atmosphere in Di-Anne’s kitchenette, brought her out of her despair.

  “Layla, my dear,” he bellowed, “We’ve done it!”

  13

  “I suppose it would do me no good to remind you that nervousness is a sign of weakness would it?”

  Layla looked up at Saul and released her bottom lip from the grip of her teeth. She also untangled her fingers from the intricate figure she had twisted them into.

  Saul laughed. “I don’t know why you’re nervous anyway. We got what we wanted, and then some. You get your money and, with any luck, not that you’ll need it, your reputation back as a fine wedding cake designer.”

  “I’m not worried about the settlement,” she admitted, “it’s just….”

  He laughed again, more sympathetically this time. “I know, I know. Makes you feel like a teenager again, doesn’t it? Heaven knows I’ve been there a time or two.”

  Layla finally relaxed into a smile. “Maybe you should stop teasing Di-Anne and make your move.”

  He gave her a sharp look, then laughed. Before he could respond, the front door opened and she heard his voice.

  “Hello, hello!”

  Patrick Fitzgerald.

  Her body stiffened and once again she was in nervous mode, smoothing down the hair that had just been professionally done yesterday. This time around Blaire had scoffed at “Girls’ Night” and insisted on taking Layla to a professional, pulling out all the stops: hair, nails, facials, everything.

  She looked down at the nude polish on the nails of her fingers that were smoothing down the skirt of her pale coral, sleeveless, eyelet dress. When she stood up she nearly stumbled in the peep-toe pumps showing off yesterday’s pedicure.

  Saul smiled and took her hand, leading her out to the front. As she got her first glimpse of him, the cotton underwear grazing against the freshly waxed area between her legs—the most adamant demand on the part of Blaire—sent tingles down her legs that nearly had her teetering all over again. That and the way he looked.

  Today, Patrick was wearing a white button-up shirt and khaki pants with loafers. It was a laid-back, casually professional look that suited him. The hair wasn’t quite as meticulously styled as their last encounter; but it still lacked that wind-blown look that told her he hadn’t driven in to town in his convertible this time around.

  It made sense, he had obviously flown up there. Once she signed the paperwork he had in the briefcase he was holding, she would be flying back to Los Angeles with him tomorrow. The thought sent more tingles rippling through her body. That and the flirtatious smirk he gave her.

  “Layla, it’s good to see you again,” he said, not taking his eyes off her, even as Saul came forward to greet him.

  “Can I assume, we’re back to being only semiprofessional again?” Saul asked with a chuckle.

  Patrick gave him an embarrassed grin. “Yeah, about that, I’m sorry, I just—”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said, shaking Patrick’s hand and leading him to the conference room.

  Layla led the way, but the scent of his refreshing aftershave lingered behind her, titillating her senses. When she finally sat across from him, she had to squeeze her legs together firmly.

  His eyes settled on hers as he pulled the paperwork out of his briefcase. “Let’s get started, shall we?” he asked with a grin.

  God, just seeing her was driving him crazy. He hadn’t realized how much he missed those big brown eyes, that smooth bronze skin, those lips, her voice, everything about her.

  A strand of hair fell from where it was tucked behind her ear and caressed her face as she signed the paperwork that would put an end to their conflict.

  Patrick had to keep himself from instinctively reaching out to gently brush it back, stroking her soft cheek as he did.

  “There,” she said, exhaling heavily as she brought her eyes up to meet his again. The look in them told him she was just as anxious to put this contentiousness behind them.

  The three of them stared around the table at one another, then broke out in a laugh as the tension faded.

  Later, as they walked out to the front, Patrick made his move.

  “So, the plane doesn’t leave until tomorrow. I was wondering if maybe you’d like to grab a bite to eat tonight?” He asked Layla, “by way of celebration,” he added quickly.

  They weren’t quite out of the legal woods yet, but hell if he was going to miss an opportunity to spend time with her.

  Her eyes lit up in a way that made his heart stop and his cock stir.

  “I’d like that,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “There isn’t much around here but I suppose the diner would work.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  “It’s a date then,” her eyes blinked and her face grew into a lovelier shade of brown. “I mean—”

  “He knows what you mean, my dear,” Saul said laughing at the two of them acting like couple of teenagers. “Why don’t you skedaddle? I think I’ll get the celebration started here by sharing a drink with Patrick in my office.”

  Patrick had a pretty good idea where that was leading and he felt like even more of a teenager, meeting his date’s father for the first time. The warning glance Layla gave Saul only highlighted the feeling.

  “I’ll see you at 7 o’clock?” she offered.

  “Sounds good,” he nodded, then watched her as she left the office.

  “Let’s head on back and get comfortable,” Saul said leading the way back to his office.

  “Please tell me you’re a whiskey man,” Saul said wandering around to a cabinet behind his desk.

  “Always, but I would have thought you’d be a wine man, considering where you live.”

  Saul laughed as he pulled out a bottle of golden amber liquid and two glasses. “Patrick, I get so much wine living here it’s practically what my body runs on these days. I even have clients pay me with bottles. Not that I mind, of course. But sometimes the body needs a change of poison.”

  He directed Patrick to one of the comfortable chairs in front of his desk and sat down on the other, opening the whiskey and poured. “Sorry I don’t have ice.”

  “Lucky for you I enjoy mine straight up.”

  Saul brought his glass up in a toast. “To finally putting an end to this mess,” he said.

  “I can drink to that,” Patrick said, tipping his glass to Saul’s

  They both took their first sip.

  “I have to say, that was a c
lever move on your part with the lien.”

  Saul laughed. “Well, it was good to actually use my Harvard Law degree once again for something other than writing wills bequeathing china sets to nieces.”

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you what brought you up here in the first place. This,” Patrick looked around the small but comfortable office, “is a far cry from Douglas & Foster.”

  Saul sipped his whiskey as he pondered it. “I guess I was just watching life pass me by from behind the glass of my corner office. My son’s bar mitzvah was a grand affair which impressed all of his little friends. You know I paid $50,000 for Snoop Dogg just to make an appearance?”

  He laughed nostalgically, then looked down into his glass with a somber expression. “Of course I was there for the actual ceremony, but I wasn’t there to actually help guide him into becoming a man. My wife, God rest her soul, was a great mother and handled most of the heavy lifting when it came to our son. I don’t know that I can say I was great father.”

  “It finally hit me when he called a day late for my 60th birthday, the only time of year he calls by the way. Something in me just…. Don’t ever put work before family, Patrick.”

  Saul looked up at him, and gave a wry smile. “Should that day ever come. Anyway, to answer your question, I took an extended road trip up here to Napa for a few weeks, got friendly with some of the staff at one particular winery and found out they live here. The rest, as they say is history. People have a tendency to fall in love with this little town.”

  Patrick took in everything Saul had just opened up to him about, then stared into his own glass. He thought of his own father, who had always put family first. What kind of father would he be working at Lion Studios, flying all over the world and working late nights and weekends to handle one crisis after another?