Fixed Up with Mr. Right?

by Marie Ferrarella

  Jonah took the hand she extended in greeting, slipping it between both of his.

  The dark brown eyes momentarily shifted from her face. “I’m always open to making the acquaintance of a beautiful woman, but why do we need a lawyer?” he asked, sparing his brother a glance. “Or are you the one who needs one? Planning on needing a lawyer to defend you from charges of embezzlement, little brother?”

  “She’ll be taking Mort’s place, Jonah.”

  “Ah, yes.” Nodding, Jonah continued holding her hand. “Mortie.” Jonah leaned in toward her, dropping his voice as if to share some kind of dark secret with her. “Poor Mortie has gone to the big courtroom in the sky. Or wherever it is that useless, annoying lawyers go.” He beamed at her and she had to admit, the man had a very disarming smile. Like his brother. “No offense, lovely lady, but why would we need another of Mortie’s kind?” The question was directed to his brother even though he was still watching Kate. “All he ever did was oversee that stupid trust fund like an iron-fisted troll. His time with us would have been up next month anyway. I turn the magic age then, remember, Jackson?”

  “I remember,” Jackson replied, holding his emotions in check. “That’s exactly why we need Kate.”

  Jonah’s mouth curved slyly. “Oh, I can think of a lot of reasons we—at least I—could need Kate here. And that damn constricting trust fund has absolutely nothing to do with it.”

  “That’s enough, Jonah,” Jackson ordered.

  Jonah hardly paid attention to the warning note in his brother’s voice. “No, not by a long shot. I’m just getting started.” His eyes all but shone.

  “Jonah, I think that it’s time for you to—”

  Jackson was going to tell his brother to leave, Kate thought. She could see the whole scenario unfolding, the one that she was certain Jackson would have really wanted to avoid. Slipping her hand out of Jonah’s, she deftly moved between the two men and deliberately focused her attention on the older of the two.

  “Since I’m your lawyer, Jonah, why don’t we go somewhere where you can talk more freely and get acquainted?” she suggested.

  Jonah grinned like a small boy who’d just trumped his brother. He glanced over Kate’s head at Jackson. “Sorry, little brother, looks like the lady prefers charm to intelligence.”

  She was making a mistake, Jackson thought. She had no idea what Jonah was like. Or what, once drunk, he was capable of. “Kate, you don’t have to—”

  Her arm threaded through Jonah’s, Kate turned her head toward Jackson. “I always make it a point to know the person I’m representing, Mr. Wainwright,” she informed him very formally.

  The expression in her eyes told him it was better if he backed off—and that she knew what she was doing.

  Logic warred with chivalry. Jackson had been here for only a few weeks. He’d specifically thrown this party to integrate himself with these people and have them see him in the right light. This was not the time or place to have any dirty laundry aired. He hoped that she knew what she was doing.

  “There’s a coffee shop at the end of the block,” she continued, talking to Jonah again. “Why don’t we go there?”

  “My place isn’t that far,” Jonah told her, his meaning crystal clear.

  It’ll be a cold day in hell before that happens, Jonah, she silently vowed.

  “Yes, but the coffee shop is right here,” Kate countered. “Might as well take advantage of that.” Instead of me.

  Jonah let a small sigh escape. “The coffee shop,” he repeated with a resigned nod.

  Jackson knew what she was doing and he didn’t like it. Jonah was his problem. No need for her to have to put up with him, other than to provide the legal muscle.

  “Kate—”

  “Face it, Jackie, she’s made her choice,” Jonah crowed.

  With that, secure in the way her arm was tucked through his, Jonah led her back to the elevator. It arrived almost the moment he pressed the button.

  Kate deliberately slipped her arm out of his as she stepped into the elevator. She had no intention of being sealed to his side a moment longer than was absolutely necessary.

  Although she maintained a smile on her lips, she tendered Jonah a warning. “You’re not to embarrass him in public like that again, Jonah.”

  Jonah’s grin broadened, and he seemed somewhat impressed. “Whoa, the lady has a bite. I like ladies with spirit.”

  They reached the ground floor in the blink of an eye. Pausing to sign out, Kate turned to him and asked, “Why do you do that?”

  Jonah scribbled his name on the line after hers and then pushed the outer door open for her. “Do what?”

  Kate led him to the right. The coffee shop was only a few steps away. Several of the outdoor tables were occupied. But one or two were still free. “Why do you act like a caricature of the drunken black sheep of the family?”

  They went inside the shop. Only one person was in front of them.

  Jonah shrugged in response to her question. “Maybe because I am.”

  Giving her order to the man behind the counter, Kate waited until Jonah followed suit before discounting his answer. “There’s more to you than that.”

  “Want to unwrap the layers? I’ll stand real still,” he promised, doing his best to sound lecherous.

  Their coffees were mixed and ready. Jonah paid and they sat down at an outdoor table. She took a sip of the bracing drink.

  “Did you know that your brother has a painting of yours in his office?” she asked.

  The look on Jonah’s face told her he thought she was making it up. He never stopped to ask how she knew that he painted. “No, he doesn’t.”

  “Yes, he does,” she countered. “I’ve seen it. It’s the one of the art fair at Laguna Beach,” she added in case he still didn’t believe her. “You’ve got a lot of talent, Jonah.” She studied him for a moment. “Maybe you’re afraid of that talent,” she guessed. “Afraid to work at it. If you never push to succeed, you never have to deal with finding out if you can. So instead, you do this. You do things to excess.”

  He shrugged carelessly, staring down at the coffee container as if he wished he had something stronger to pour into it. “And maybe you’re a frustrated pseudo-psychiatrist.”

  His tone was harsh, but she didn’t pull back. Kate saw the retort for what it was, a fearful response. She’d hit a nerve. Jonah was a lost boy who tried to cover up his shortcomings with an abrasive swagger.

  “Your brother went through a lot of trouble to move down here so he could keep an eye on you.”

  Jonah grew defensive. And annoyed. “Nobody asked him to.”

  “True,” she agreed. “But maybe he knows a cry for help when he hears it.”

  “Nobody cried, either,” Jonah informed her tersely. Then he softened, smiling again. “You’re right. My brother is a good guy and he has put up with a lot from me.”

  She got the feeling that Jonah wanted to do better, he just didn’t know how. “So why don’t you take pity on him and give him a break?”

  The grin grew wider. “He expects it. I’ve got a reputation to maintain. Being a screwup is what I do best.”

  “You don’t mean that,” she told him.

  He shrugged in a self-deprecating manner. “Oh yes I do.”

  “It doesn’t have to be that way,” she said softly.

  Not wanting to continue in this venue, Jonah changed the course of the conversation. “Once I get what’s coming to me, Jackson doesn’t have to hear from me at all if he doesn’t want to.”

  She studied Jonah a moment longer, then asked, “What do you plan to do with the money once the trust is awarded to you?”

  There was a full, robust enthusiasm in his voice as he declared, “Enjoy it.”

  “You mean spend it,” Kate interpreted.

  He laughed at her attempt to make the situation more significant than it was. “That’s one way to do it. Want to come along? I could use some gorgeous eye candy hanging on to my arm while I
sail through the high life. It’s a lot of money,” he confided with a wink. “But then, you probably already know that.”

  Actually, she didn’t know the specifics, not yet. Kate continued studying him as she sipped her ice blend mocha coffee. “What are you going to do once the money’s gone?”

  The shrug was careless and completely honest in its lack of guile. “That won’t happen for a while. I’ll worry about it then.” A touch of impatience entered Jonah’s voice. He didn’t like resistance. It didn’t make him play harder. It made him give up. “You know, you might not look like him, but you’re a lot like Jackson. Worrying about stuff that’s in the future. The future’s just that, in the future. Who knows, I might be dead before I run out of money.”

  She thought of what Jackson had said about his brother’s penchant for substance abuse and hanging around unsavory characters.

  “That might very well be,” she agreed. “But you don’t want to do that.”

  “Right now,” he said, leaning close, “what I want is to get my toes warmed by a very gorgeous, classy-looking woman,” he breathed.

  Kate never flinched, treating him like an over enthusiastic puppy. “Tempting as that sounds, you’re my client, Jonah. There are rules.”

  “I’m not,” he protested. “Jackson is.”

  “Actually,” she corrected, “you both are.” For now, there was no need to tell him any more detail than that.

  Jonah sighed. Anything he had to work for to win wasn’t worth the effort. “So you’re saying no?”

  “I’m saying no for ethical reasons.” Her smile never wavered.

  “Too bad.” His disappointment sounded genuine. “We would have had one hell of a night.”

  It cost her nothing to leave his ego intact. “I’m sure we would have.”

  Jonah brightened like a man who believed he was getting what he wanted after all. “Well then, why don’t we—”

  “I’d be disbarred, Jonah,” she emphasized. Her coffee finished, she wiped her lips lightly, then stuffed the napkin into the empty container. “Can I call you a cab?” she suggested.

  Jonah eyed her quizzically through the fog in his eyes. “Why? Am I going somewhere?”

  “To your house.”

  “But my car—” He pointed vaguely in the direction he’d last left the parking structure. It had moved. Or the earth had. Either way, he realized he was pointing at a jewelry store.

  “—will still be there tomorrow.” No way was she allowing him to drive himself to the bathroom, much less out on the road. He reeked of alcohol. “You don’t want to risk getting a DUI, possibly hurting yourself or someone else, do you?”

  His grin was slightly sloppy now. “Why, Katie, you care.”

  “I looked into your record. Your brother’s pulled a lot of strings to keep you from being sent to jail on drunk and disorderly charges.”

  “Yeah, good ol’ Jackie, he always comes through. He deserves better,” he confided.

  She made no comment. They’d already run this go-around. “One day he’s going to run out of strings and you’re going to wind up out of luck. My advice is that you quit while you’re ahead.”

  “You’re not as much fun as you look,” Jonah lamented as he nodded at her words.

  Kate laughed shortly. “I’ve been told that,” she admitted. By princes who turned out to be frogs, she thought, reminding herself why she’d sworn off the species.

  Seeing a cab let off a fare across the street, Kate whistled loudly and waved her hand to get the man’s attention. She succeeded.

  Jonah ambled over from their table. “That’s pretty impressive,” he commented.

  “My brother taught me,” she told him matter-of-factly, leaving out the part about badgering Kullen for weeks until he finally gave in.

  The cab she’d hailed went down to the end of the street and did a U-turn, coming back to them.

  “Your ride’s here,” Kate informed the unsteady Jonah cheerfully as she opened the rear passenger door for him. With a resigned sigh, Jonah came forward and started to get into the cab. “Watch your head,” she cautioned, placing her hand over the top of it as he ducked into the taxi.

  Once seated, he peered out at her hopefully. “Sure you don’t want to come with me?”

  She kept her smile in place. “I’m sure.” Moving to the driver, she rattled off Jonah’s address for the man, something else she’d committed to memory. She looked in on him one last time. His eyes were getting droopy. She’d made the right call.

  “Sleep it off, Jonah,” she instructed by way of a parting.

  “I’d rather sleep with you,” he called out the open window as the cab driver sped away.

  “Not even in your wildest dreams,” Kate murmured, stepping back on the curb.

  For a fleeting moment, she thought about going back upstairs to Jackson’s party. She still didn’t have the papers that she’d come for. But running interference for Jackson and getting Jonah to go home without, accidentally or on purpose, causing a scene had left her drained.

  She could always get the papers on Monday, she decided. Kate turned toward the parking structure and started to walk. At least she’d managed to divert a minor disaster and she’d gotten to meet the black sheep—who was more gray than black. What a handful he must have been for Jackson, she mused, feeling more than a little sorry for the younger Wainwright. It spoke well of him to have taken it on.

  He doesn’t need you to write a testimonial for him. She was going to have to keep her guard up all the time, Kate schooled herself. Otherwise, she would find herself sliding down a very familiar slope—and she knew how that always ended up.

  Entering the parking structure, Kate squared her shoulders. She absolutely hated looking for her vehicle. It was never where she was sure she’d left it. Hunting for it took anywhere from fifteen minutes to an hour.

  Tonight was no different.

  As she pulled up in the driveway, visions of a hot bubble bath proved too seductively tempting for her to resist. Since she was home earlier than she expected, she would take advantage of that and get some overdue sleep. She’d earned it, she told herself. And then some.

  But Kate had no sooner closed the door behind her, locking it, and kicked off her shoes than the doorbell rang.

  Surprised, she jumped. Now what? she wondered impatiently.

  She wasn’t expecting anyone, but Kullen had a habit of dropping by without warning. Although never on a Friday night. For a second, she held her ground, waiting to see if whoever it was went away. The infrequent door-to-door solicitor usually gave up after one try.

  Any thoughts of ignoring the doorbell ringer and going upstairs for that bubble bath were torpedoed when the bell rang again. And then again.

  So much for her theory. “Okay, okay, I’m coming,” Kate called out.

  Cautiously, she opened it, the chain she’d hastily secured when she came in still in place. What she saw was a delivery boy standing there with what looked like half the local flower shop’s supply of pink roses overflowing out of a large vase.

  “Delivery for Ms. Manetti,” the delivery boy told her before she had a chance to ask.

  “Just a second.” Shutting the door for a moment, Kate unlatched the chain and then reopened the door. As soon as she did, the flowers, all tucked carefully into a slender ivory pearl vase, were thrust into her hands. Stunned, Kate stared at them. No one sent her flowers.

  “You’re sure these are for me?” she questioned the delivery boy.

  He held up his clipboard. “Your name and address matches,” he said in a flat voice. “So I’m sure. Sign here, please,” he instructed, thrusting the clipboard at her this time. Kate placed the vase down on the side table and quickly wrote her name in the space the delivery boy pointed to. “Thanks,” he muttered, adding, “have-a-nice-day” as if it were all a single word to be carefully chewed before uttering.

  Shutting the door with her back, Kate looked the vase over, searching for a card. And when she f
ound it, she was no more enlightened than before. Maybe that wasn’t quite accurate. It narrowed the playing field down to two.

  The card said, “Thank you. J. Wainwright.”

  She frowned. They were both “J. Wainwright.” Was Jonah thanking her for sharing a coffee with him, or was Jackson thanking her for whisking his brother away before he embarrassed both of them?

  Closing her eyes, she offered up a quick, silent prayer.

  “Don’t let it be from Jonah.” The man might be tempted to follow up his delivery—and what was worse, it would mean that he knew where she lived. She liked having her privacy and not having a client turn up on her doorstep at will.

  When what she was really hired for came to light, Jonah was not going to be happy. She wouldn’t put it past him to camp out on her lawn in an effort to get her to reverse any new changes to the trust fund.

  She glanced at the card that came with the flowers. Along with instructions on how to care for the roses was the name and phone number of the florist. First thing tomorrow, she promised herself, she would call and see if she could find out if that was J for Jonah or J for Jackson.

  Until then, there was a bubble bath with her name on it, she thought, smiling to herself. And God, did she ever need it.

  Stopping to smell the roses one last time, she went upstairs.

  Chapter Six

  The longer Kate remained in the bathtub, the harder it was for her to contemplate getting out. Periodically adding hot water to keep the temperature comfortable just increased her reluctance. But she had a feeling that if she didn’t force herself to pull the plug and terminate this bath, she was in real danger of falling asleep and just possibly sliding down into the water.

  Soaking in the tub had certainly done its job in relaxing her.

  That evaporated the moment she thought she heard the doorbell ring again.

  Kate had finally gotten out of the bathtub and was reaching for her bathrobe when she heard the doorbell chimes. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t have. The radio or the music from her iPod would have blotted it out. Music was part of the winding-down process.

  But tonight, because of everything going on in her head and the pace she’d put up with today, all she’d craved was a soothing silence. And because of the silence, she was able to hear someone ringing her doorbell.