“Those men won’t talk.”

Jason glared at Taylor and grabbed his cell phone out of her hands. “You obviously need a lesson on how my life works, missy.” He hit the redial button. “Everyone talks.”

“They think I was telling the truth in there.”

“No shit.”

“So, if they think the things I said in there were true, then they also think that information is protected by the attorney-client privilege. Those men are legally bound not to repeat what I said.”

His eyes meeting hers, Jason paused as this information sunk in. After a moment, he hung up his phone.

She winked. Gotcha.

“I’m not completely heartless, Mr. Andrews,” she said with a grin. She turned and headed down the hallway.

Jason watched her walk away. There was something about that confidence she always had. He liked it very much.

He hurried and caught up with Taylor in the middle of the buzzing hallway. “Wait—there’s something I need to talk to you about. You haven’t even asked the real reason I was calling.”

People stopped to stare all along the office corridor as Taylor and Jason breezed past them. “I’m very busy today, Mr. Andrews,” she said efficiently. “Perhaps you could make an appointment with my secretary for us to talk another time?”

Jason laughed out loud at this—surely she must be joking. But when Taylor said nothing further, he decided it was best to just ignore her.

“Anyway, as it turns out,” he explained, “the screenwriter did not consult a lawyer when writing his script. And now the director and I have realized there are several problems with the film.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Taylor said distractedly. She stopped in front of her secretary’s desk to pick up her messages. “Can you call Tom Jacobs and see if he has a few minutes to discuss his trial testimony?” After her secretary nodded, she stepped into her office.

Jason stood awkwardly in the hallway, unaccustomed to being left unattended to. After a few moments, when Taylor didn’t return, he followed into her office.

Inside she was already seated at her desk, riffling through some files. Jason decided it was best to cut to the chase.

“I want you to work with me on the script.”

Now that got her attention.

Taylor paused her work and peered up. She looked him directly in his eyes.

“No.”

“Why not?”

She gestured at the stacks of files in front of her. “Because I have a trial starting in two days.”

Jason waved his hand dismissively at her files. He was unconcerned with such things.

“We’ll work in the evenings.”

Taylor looked over at the wall, muttering “why me” under her breath.

“Because you’re good,” Jason said matter-of-factly.

Taylor paused, and Jason noticed she didn’t try to argue with that.

“I’ll tell you what,” she said, appearing to soften slightly,

“I know some attorneys at this firm who would be perfect for this kind of thing. I’ll make a few calls—”

“No. It has to be you.”

Taylor peered across her office at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well, I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I’m not available.”

“We both know I can make this happen in one phone call,” Jason said matter-of-factly.

Her green eyes flashed at the threat. She got up from her desk and walked over, stopping just a few inches from him. Jason did a quick check for any sharp objects hidden in her hands.

But instead, she surprised him by speaking in a soft voice.

“Why me? Really, Jason. Why me?”

Hmm . . . his first name again. This was indeed progress. Moving in, Jason gazed down at her with a devilish smile.

“What can I say, Ms. Donovan? . . . You intrigue me.”

It did the trick.

Jason watched as Taylor gave in with the slightest of smiles. He knew she couldn’t help it.

She inched closer to him. “I intrigue you?”

“You know you do,” he replied boldly, his eyes burning into hers. Wow—things were suddenly heating up fast. He wondered if they would have sex right there on her desk. Somebody better move that stapler.

With a coy look, Taylor stood up to whisper in Jason’s ear.

“Then I think you’re going to find this next part really intriguing,” she said breathlessly.

He gazed down at her—he liked the sound of that—and raised one eyebrow expectantly as Taylor grinned wickedly and—

Slammed the office door right in his face.

For a moment, Jason could only stand there in the hallway with his nose pressed up against the cold wood of her door. After a few seconds, he knocked politely.

Taylor whipped open the door, unamused.

Jason grinned at her. “I just gotta ask: Where did you get the whole ‘all the cute girls run around naked’ thing?”

“I defend sexual harassment cases, Mr. Andrews,” she replied coolly. “I’ve seen and heard things even you haven’t thought of.”

“Care to test out that theory?”

She slammed the door in his face again.

This time, Jason rolled away and saw the entire law office staring at him. He gestured nonchalantly to the door.

“It’s a little drafty in here.” With a wink, he straightened up and headed through the hallway with a spring in his step. So . . . she wanted to play hard to get, huh? That was just fine—it was his favorite game.

Jason grinned as he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, more than ready to match Taylor Donovan’s move.

“Marty—it’s me. Call Sam Blakely. Yes, again.”

Ten

“I CAN’T DO it. There’s no way.”

Taylor stopped and stood resolutely before Sam.

“I cannot work with that man.”

Sam sat quietly at his desk, watching as Taylor resumed her pacing. This had been going on for the past six and a half minutes. They were making progress—at least she was speaking now. On her first three attempts, she had made it only two steps into his office before turning right back around without a word.

Taylor listed her grievances at punctuated intervals between the furious high-heeled turns she made on the carpet in front of Sam’s desk.

“He’s impossible.

“He’s ridiculous.

“Selfish. Conceited.

“Beyond arrogant.

“Condescending, too—you should’ve see the way he waved off the mountain of work on my desk with his little ‘Oh, pooh-pooh, but I’m a movie star.’ ”

Sam tried to keep from smiling at her imitation.

“As if I have any interest in working on his silly little script.” Taylor argued to the air before her as she paced. “As if I don’t have enough real things to do with my life.”

She glanced over at Sam. “I mean—have you ever seen anyone so filled with his own self-importance?”

Sam raised an eyebrow. Maybe he had.

Taylor finally took a seat at his desk.

“All right—let’s get serious, Sam. My trial starts in two days. I can’t be trying to squeeze this shit in right now. I realize that this is Los Angeles, but come on—what’s more important: a thirty-million-dollar lawsuit, or babysitting Hollywood’s number one prick?”

Taylor paused as she waited for his answer.

Sam leaned in with an understanding smile.


THE DOOR TO Reilly’s Tavern flew open with a bang as

Taylor stormed in. Jason stood there, waiting expectantly with his cue stick in hand.

“Ms. Donovan! Back so soo—”

He was silenced by a hand as Taylor sailed by him and headed straight to the bar. She took a seat at one of the stools and nodded at the bartender. “Grey Goose, rocks,” she growled, like a hard-nosed detective in some 1940s film noir.

Jason slid into the stool next to her. As he opened his mouth to speak, Taylor warningly held up her hand. Not yet.

The bartender set the drink in front of her, and she polished it off in two swallows. Then she sat the glass down gently, and finally turned and looked over at Jason.

He smiled.

“I was told I should expect an apology.”

Taylor held her glass up to the bartender.

“I’m gonna need another.”

Jason laughed—he couldn’t help it. He had never met anyone so utterly, charmingly stubborn. He was about to compliment her choice in vodka when they both heard someone shout her name.

“Taylor!”

They looked over and saw Jeremy heading over, with his arms outstretched as if greeting a long-lost friend. Taylor glanced at Jason in confusion.

“Do I know him?”

“Oh, that’s just Jeremy,” he explained. “Don’t mind him—he’s a screenwriter. He thinks he owns the place because they let him work here during the day. He gets inspired while playing pool.”

“That’s a little odd.”

Jason shrugged. “He’s been that way since college.”

“College?”

“Columbia. We were roommates.”

Jason took in her look of surprise. “Oh, you didn’t think lawyers were the only people in this town with degrees, did you?”

Before Taylor could respond to his teasing, Jeremy approached and stopped formally.

“Counselor. At last, we meet.” He held out his hand. “Jeremy Shelby.”

She smiled at the introduction. “Call me Taylor.”

Jason rolled his eyes. Oh, sure. Jeremy got to call her Taylor.

“I hear you’ve had the pleasure of working with Jason,” Jeremy said. “How did he look in the courtroom?”

“Be honest, Ms. Donovan,” Jason interjected confidently.

In response, Taylor looked him up and down. “I suppose it’s the one area where I can’t fault you,” she said archly. “You might actually make something of yourself one day with this whole acting bit.”