A Christmas Rendezvous (The Eden Empire Book 4)

by Karen Booth

  “I know. He still needs to know we’re serious. And I had to let him know that I won’t hestiate to call his bluff.” What Isabel really meant to say was that old habits died hard.

  Sam turned to Mindy. “I thought that was a brilliant move, personally. We need to fight fire with fire. We need to dig up dirt on this Summers guy and it’s not a bad idea to go after his lawyer, too. I don’t like that guy. He’s smug and arrogant, the exact kind of guy I’d love to take down a notch.”

  Mindy looked at Sam like he had a screw loose. “Do you seriously not know who that guy is? Jeremy Sharp? Ex-husband of Kelsey Kline? The socialite?”

  “Shh, you two,” Isabel snapped, eying the receptionist, who thankfully hadn’t seemed to overhear their conversation. Still, Isabel’s mind was reeling. Jeremy had been married? And to a socialite? Both details came as a big surprise, but Isabel had fought her urge to look into his personal life when she learned that he was handling the case for Mr. Summers. Only the old Isabel did that. Now she might have no choice but to do at least a minimum of digging. Otherwise, she’d die of curiosity. She glanced at her brother. How could she tell Sam that the man he found so unlikable was someone she’d fallen into bed with? Sam would never judge her for it, but he would be disappointed, and as far as Isabel was concerned, that was worse.

  “Sorry.” Sam shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m stressed. I hate that Mindy has to go through this.”

  “It’s okay,” Isabel offered, loving that her brother was so focused on Mindy’s well-being. “Look, let’s focus on the merits of the case. We need to get an expert to analyze the promissory note and make sure it’s legitimate. I’ve already hired the financial forensic experts. They’re going through the old Eden’s books to see if there’s any evidence the money flowed through the store.” She turned to Mindy. “And I was thinking, if this relationship between Mr. Summers’s dad and your grandmother was this significant, don’t you think there’d likely be some evidence of it somewhere in her personal effects? Maybe old papers? Letters of some sort?”

  “I got Gram’s apartment after she passed away, but I never moved in. I had planned to, but it’s only been a year and, well...” Mindy looked at Sam with utter adoration. “Your brother came along and everything changed.”

  “Our offer was accepted on the house out in New Jersey,” Sam said to Isabel.

  “It’s way too much room for two people,” Mindy added with a smile that said it didn’t bother her at all.

  Sam shrugged it off, but his grin was also a mile wide. “I want us to start having kids as soon as possible. I’ve put my life on hold for too long. And I’ve always wanted a family.”

  Isabel understood exactly what Sam was saying. She wanted those things for herself. In many ways, she felt like she and Sam would never truly heal from the trauma of losing their parents until they were each able to start a family.

  “I’d still like to get married first,” Mindy offered.

  If these two were going to continue to ruminate about their shared future, Isabel would never get any work done today. “Mindy, if you and I could get together and go through your grandmother’s apartment, that would be great. In the meantime, I need to go back in there and hash things out with Mr. Sharp.”

  “Unless you need us, I think we’ll take off and grab lunch,” Sam said.

  Isabel nodded. “Excellent idea.”

  Mindy hooked her arm in Sam’s. “Thank you, Isabel, for having our backs. My sisters and I appreciate it more than you will ever know. Something about having a woman in charge makes us all breathe a little easier.”

  Sam’s forehead crinkled in confusion. “I realize she’s an amazing lawyer, but what does being a woman have to do with it?”

  It was apparent Mindy was doing her best not to roll her eyes. “I like to be in control, and your sister and I are a lot alike. I know that she won’t allow herself to fail. She’ll keep at it until we win. She won’t try to settle.”

  Winning was Isabel’s preferred result, but this case wasn’t going to be that simple. And her brief history with Jeremy would certainly complicate it. “There will have to be some negotiation, Mindy. That’s just the way it works,” Isabel said. She didn’t make a habit of lowering her own bar, but if the note was determined to be authentic, Eden’s was in a very difficult situation, one that Isabel would have to work miracles to get them out of.

  “If the note is real,” Mindy said. “I think there’s a good chance that this is all a hoax.”

  Isabel could only hope for that right now. “I’d better get back in there and get it settled.” She straightened her jacket and strode back down the hall. Wanting to appear confident and strong, she marched right into the room. And right into Jeremy. She reflexively braced herself, planting her hands on his chest. He gripped her elbows. She gazed up into his soft gray eyes. He intently peered down into hers. Her lips twitched with electricity, their connection fiercely uncomfortable to endure. Of course she’d fallen into bed with him that first night. Of course they’d given in to this. It would be impossible not to.

  But now they were standing in a law office with a messy case to unravel. This was no time for rubbing up against Jeremy.

  However badly she wanted to do exactly that.

  She dropped her hands, and he dropped his, creating distance by stepping away. Isabel stared at the carpet, a perfectly ordinary office gray, as she struggled to regain her composure. She wasn’t regretting the fact that they’d slept together. She found herself again regretting that she’d ever taken on this case.

  “Sorry,” Isabel said. “I guess I was in a hurry for us to get back to work.”

  Jeremy cleared his throat. “As am I. Lord only knows what Mr. Summers might do if left to his own devices in my office for too long.” He flashed a quick smile at her. “Kidding, of course. He’s fine in there.” He strode to the door and closed it.

  Isabel swallowed hard. Something about the sight of his hand against the ebony wood made her pulse skip a beat. She needed to get a grip. She was in the throes of battle with this man. Constantly reminding herself how sexy he was would only put her at a disadvantage. It didn’t matter that he smelled good enough to eat. It didn’t matter how unbelievable he looked in that suit.

  “So,” he started. “I take it this is why you didn’t want to discuss your career the other night? Very clever of you.”

  “That wasn’t the reason. I truly didn’t want to talk about work. Is that so odd?”

  “For someone who seems so eager to embrace her role as attorney, I find that a little peculiar.”

  “Eager? I’m just doing my job.” She sat down and crossed her legs, hyperaware of the way her skirt hitched up an inch too far. She tugged at the hem as inconspicuously as possible. She needed to wrestle her side of their sexual tension into submission. It wasn’t good for her or her client.

  “Well, I have to admit that you’re good at it. Very good.” Jeremy sat down and drew a circle on the table with his index finger, making eye contact with her the whole time. Her mind zipped back to the memory of his hands on her naked skin—her breasts, her butt, her most delicate places—the parts that made her want him just as bad now as she had the other night. If only things hadn’t ended so disastrously. “I got a little worked up there. You’re definitely the most interesting person I’ve had the chance to spar with in recent history.”

  Isabel had always been drawn to that side of the law, where you make an argument, the other side responds with their own, and it then becomes a battle of wills, each party strengthening their stance until someone has no choice but to beg for mercy. Of course, it only felt good to come out on top. It felt horrible to lose. “Hopefully there won’t have to be too much of that. I’d like to come to an agreement, starting with getting that note authenticated.”

  Just then the door flew open and a handsome, well-dressed older man stormed in.
The resemblance to Jeremy was striking. It was like someone had hit the fast-forward button twenty years.

  “Excuse me.” The man barely glanced at Isabel. “Jeremy, can I speak with you?”

  Jeremy impatiently rose from his seat, so fast that the chair rolled and hit the table with a thud. “We’re in the middle of something. Can’t this wait?”

  “Why is Mr. Summers in your office?”

  “He can’t keep himself in line, that’s why,” Jeremy whispered, but it was loud enough for Isabel to hear every word.

  The man unsubtly eyed Isabel, then returned his sights to Jeremy. “I’ll go have a chat with him.”

  “Please don’t.”

  Jeremy’s voice was exceptionally firm, sending a thrill through Isabel, one she tried to ignore. She pulled out a legal pad and made a few scribbles to distract herself.

  “All right then,” the man said. “Check in with me when you’re finished.”

  Jeremy said nothing in response as the man exited the room, but he had that stressed look on his face—the same one he’d had when he left Isabel’s hotel room. “I’m sorry about that. My dad. He’s supposed to be in partial retirement, but it only means that he has fewer clients but spends just as much time in the office.”

  “Leaving him too much time to interfere with what you’re doing?” Isabel asked.

  “Yes. Precisely.”

  Isabel didn’t know much about Jeremy other than the revelation from Mindy that he’d been married, and apparently to a woman of some social stature, but she did feel bad that his own father was causing him distress. “No worries. Let’s get back to the authentication. I’ve only been in New York a few weeks, so I don’t have an expert on hand in the city. I know several in DC. I’m happy to bring one up.”

  “DC, huh? Big Washington lawyer?”

  “Not exactly.” Isabel pressed her lips together tightly.

  “Something tells me you’re underselling yourself.” Jeremy’s phone beeped with a text. “I’m so sorry, but I’ve been waiting for a message. Do you mind?”

  “No. Of course not.”

  Jeremy pulled his phone from his pocket, seeming concerned. “Do you think we could discuss the authentication of the letter over dinner? I actually have to run home right now.”

  Run home during the day? Did Jeremy have a family? A girlfriend? He was becoming more of a puzzle by the moment. “I hope everything’s okay.”

  He sighed heavily. “I think so. I ended up taking in a stray cat. It’s a long story.”

  “Sounds like a lot.”

  “It’s like everything in my life right now. Just one more thing on an endless list of obligations.”

  Isabel nodded, a bit chagrined that she’d been so right about Jeremy—he was not the guy who liked to be tied down. “Okay, then. You can tell me over dinner. Eight o’clock? The Monaco?”

  Jeremy looked surprised. “It’s impossible to get a reservation.”

  Isabel shrugged. “I know a guy.”

  “But you’ve only been in the city for a few weeks.”

  “Trust me. I got this.”

  Five

  Dinner with Jeremy—hot and absurdly handsome Jeremy—was not the best plan. To some, it might seem like a particularly poor one. Did Isabel have a choice? Of course she did. She never liked to think that she didn’t. But wrapping up this case on Mr. Summers’s proposed timeline would take some artful work on Isabel’s part if she was going to come out on top. For herself, her brother and his new family, she wanted nothing less than a win.

  She did not want to be quibbling with this in January or having it drag out into February or March. She wanted this done so she could move on to the next phase of her career, adoption law. It would be a lot easier to get something out of Jeremy if the two of them had a good rapport, and well, the way things had played out at the Bacharach the night they met had not been a great start. She wanted to put that behind them, and in her experience, nothing cured a few bruised feelings faster than a glass of wine and some conversation over a delicious meal. Plus, the pasta carbonara at the Monaco was to die for.

  First, she needed to get back to the Bacharach from the Sharp and Sharp offices. Wanting to clear her head, she opted to walk, even if she had to do it in heels. A crisp December wind whipped between the tall buildings of Midtown Manhattan, bringing Isabel the focus she craved. All around her, the city was abuzz with the holidays. She strode past storefronts with extravagant window displays, hosting scenes of Santa and snowy ski chalets, candy canes and snowflakes. Red-cheeked shoppers bustled along the sidewalk, loaded down with department store bags, including silver-and-white bags from Eden’s, which was only seven or eight blocks away. Isabel hadn’t celebrated Christmas in years. Well, not for real, with a tree and gifts and the Wham! song some people try to avoid hearing. She and Sam typically got together on Christmas Eve and spent a few quiet days together, cooking and talking, content with each other’s company. It had been like that since their parents died, when Sam was in high school and Isabel in college. The holiday simply didn’t have the same meaning without their entire family together. Losing both parents in a six-month period had left them no time to adjust. So she and Sam slipped into a new tradition, made up of celebrating the one thing they still had—each other.

  Isabel wasn’t sure what would happen this year. Sam had Mindy now. With that big lovely ring on her finger, they were buying their big house and talking about children. Of course, Isabel was over the moon about the whole thing. Yes, she’d been reluctant to accept Mindy after the heartbreak she’d caused Sam, but in the end, she’d been won over by Mindy’s magnetic personality and determination. Plus, Isabel had to be nothing but in awe of her future sister-in-law. She’d accomplished the impossible, something no one else had managed in his thirty-six years on this planet—Mindy had found a way to make Sam happy.

  Isabel arrived back at the Bacharach and dashed in through the revolving door, crossed the lobby and pressed the button for the elevator. She couldn’t help but notice the woman in the fire department uniform speaking to the man she knew to be the hotel manager.

  “The entire system?” the manager asked.

  “I’m afraid so, sir. One minute it passes the test, the next minute it fails.”

  The elevator dinged and Isabel didn’t hang around to hear more about the hotel’s faulty alarm system. Hopefully it would get fixed soon.

  Upstairs, she keyed into her room, unwound herself from her black wool coat, which she tossed onto the bed. She kicked off her pumps, sat at the desk and opened her laptop. She probably should have just given in to the urge to look into Jeremy yesterday, when she first learned that her one-night stand was opposing counsel. Less than a second after hitting the return button on Jeremy Sharp, a flurry of tabloid articles appeared. The first headline suggested exactly what Mindy had: Kelsey Kline Leaves Husband, Says Marriage “Loveless.”

  Isabel wasn’t much for pulp or gossip, and she’d never even heard of Kelsey Kline before that morning, but the story was fascinating. The only daughter of a shipping magnate, heiress to a vast fortune, Ms. Kline was well-known in NYC as a party girl turned fashion blogger turned wedding planner. She was flat-out gorgeous, fit yet curvy, with high cheekbones, full lips and a stunning head of chocolate-brown hair. Isabel didn’t know Jeremy particularly well, but Kelsey seemed like the kind of woman he might choose—fun and carefree.

  As Isabel read on, the story turned dark and sad. Kelsey claimed that Jeremy was inattentive and unaffectionate, not the marrying type or a guy who was meant to settle down. She said point-blank that he broke her heart, getting married to him was a mistake, and she might never recover. There were even a few hints that he might have been unfaithful, although it was a subject carefully tiptoed around. No matter whether that was true or not, this was all another sign that Isabel might have dodged a bullet.

  Kelsey
filed for divorce less than three years after she and Jeremy had tied the knot in a lavish ceremony at a historic cathedral in the city. Other than being blamed for the end of the marriage, Jeremy was hardly mentioned in the article at all. It said that he had declined to comment, which Isabel took as confirmation that everything Kelsey had said was true, at least on some level. Otherwise, why not stick up for yourself?

  Isabel took in a deep breath through her nose and closed her laptop, not wanting to read any more. She felt that familiar crawl over her skin after having peered into someone else’s life. She realized there were plenty of people who lived for such salacious details, but Isabel had seen too much of the personal toll. At least she was now certain that she had made the right call when she’d let Jeremy off the hook after their first night together. She would have dinner with him tonight, get this case worked out and move on. That would be the end of her chapter with Mr. Sharp. And from the sound of that article, that was the best case scenario.

  * * *

  A few minutes before eight, Isabel climbed out of a town car in front of the Monaco. From the outside, the restaurant was a mystery—a dark wood facade with a large arched center door, the name in gold above. No random passersby would ever bother to step inside unprompted, out of either ignorance or perhaps fear of the unknown. But it was one of Isabel’s favorite spots in Manhattan, owned by a former client who had top-tier restaurants all over the world—London, Madrid, Los Angeles, DC. Isabel’s last assignment for the restaurateur had been to get his college-age daughter out of jail when she was arrested in Belize on spring break. It had been Isabel’s job to not only deal with the legal side of getting her out and back into the US, but to keep the story out of the papers and away from her university. Thus had been her life of a lawyer turned fixer.

  Isabel ducked through the door and into a dimly lit vestibule with an ornate tile floor, coat check and host stand. The sounds of the restaurant, a steady hum of conversation and clinking glass, filtered into the small space, even through the heavy emerald-green velvet drape that obscured the entrance into the dining room. Isabel gave her name to the hostess just as a rush of cold came in behind her. She turned and there was Jeremy. He was clearly flustered, his cheeks full of color as he pushed his hair back from his face. Isabel endeavored to ignore the way her pulse raced when she saw him. He turned his shoulders out of a charcoal-gray wool coat, dressed in black trousers and suit jacket, with a midnight-blue dress shirt that turned his gray eyes an even darker and more intense shade. Isabel had to hope that at some point the zap of attraction would subside. Hopefully it wouldn’t always feel like this to be around him, as if her body was on perpetual high alert.