He sputtered. “If you’re even trying to cite Legally Blonde to me, I will sue you. I barely made it out of that place alive, and I can assure you, there were no sorority girls there.”
“Whatever.” Kate gave herself a point. Seems the man was quite tender when his education was insulted. Something to remember for the future. At least he seemed to know his movies. “So, are you going to give me the rundown on the suits we need to impress?”
He eased the car toward the clogged city streets and got immediately snagged in traffic. “Bob Myers is CEO. Travis Hilton is second in command. They’re the ones who make the decisions on who’s going to join them in the penthouse. You’ll meet their wives. My competitor, Samuel Flag, will also be there with his long-term mate. The partners are trying to decide between the two of us.”
“Sounds fun. Like standing on the Department of Motor Vehicles line during lunchtime.”
He tossed her a warning look. “Be warm but polite. They’re known to prefer executives who get along with their wives, since they have tons of business dinners. You get along with other women, right?”
“Of course. Other than the occasional mud wrestling, I hold my own.”
“Cute. I already told them you were an accountant, and they were impressed.”
“Hmm, don’t like the matchmaking types, do they?”
He slammed on the brakes as the car in front skidded to beat the red light. “Not a word about matchmaking—that will bury me. Your family comes from a solid line of accountants and court judges. You’re now running your own business.”
“This makes no sense. Why do you suddenly need to show up with a perfect date? Your coworkers must know you haven’t been dating anyone steadily. You were the one who said you’d tout Kinnections if I found you a match. Did you lie?”
He gripped the wheel in a deadlock. “My word is law. I don’t lie, but I screwed up. News got out that the partners want to recruit a solid family man for the job. Some crap about a divorce lawyer you can trust since he’s committed in a personal relationship. I panicked, so I told them I was dating someone seriously.”
“Sounds like a lie to me.”
He glowered. “Since you’re gonna hook me up with my future wife, it wasn’t a lie. Just a foretelling of the future.”
“Nice volley.”
“Get me through tonight and I’ll come clean later. I just need some time to impress them with my own credentials rather than some imaginary relationship they approve of. In the meantime, try to play the role of the intelligent, adoring girlfriend.”
Steam billowed from her pores, but she dug her nails into her palms and the pain grounded her. “How Stepford of me. And how uncreative of this team you want to join. Is this type of stereotypical success so important to you? Do you want to create a perfect life that barely scratches the surface of messy reality?”
His lips tightened. “I deal with messiness every day, and I don’t live in your world of rainbows and sunbeams. You focus on the beginning where hormones and dreams rule. I get the heartbreak and emotional riptide of kids, money, and hate. So, yeah, to answer your question, that’s the exact world I want to live in. Here we are.”
His words cut through her and touched deep. Kate fought the instinct to question him further. What type of childhood did he have? Were his parents divorced? She knew his ex-wife was unfaithful, but there seemed to be so much more than a simple betrayal. She opened her mouth to offer something . . . but suddenly he leaned toward her and sniffed.
“What’s that smell?”
She ducked her head and grabbed her purse. “Perfume. Don’t tell me your prospective partners are allergic?”
“Funny, it smells familiar.”
“I’ve probably worn it before. Are we done with the cross, counselor?”
“Do you have a mint in that bag?”
She rolled her eyes, stuck her hand in, and caught the handle. The contents dumped out on the floor. Great. Shoving the stuff back, she handed him the roll of mints and then her fingers closed on a stick. Kate frowned, pulling it out.
And stared at a joint.
She tried to shove it back, but his sharp indrawn breath confirmed it was too late. Kate glanced over. A dangerous light gleamed in those emerald eyes. His brows slammed together. “I knew it. Holy shit, you were smoking marijuana?”
Thank you, Mom. She strove for cool, calm, and collected. Kate tossed her hair over her shoulder. “It’s not mine.”
The incredulous shock on his face was almost worth the humiliation. “You did not just say that to me. Are you denying possession or use?”
“Both.” His gaze tore and pulled her apart, making her squirm with discomfort. How dare he judge her? “What’s the matter, Mr. Goody Two-Shoes Hot Lawyer of Harvard? Never got caught on the wrong side of the law?”
His disbelieving laughter surprised her. Slade shook his head. “I don’t believe I’m having this conversation. Who on earth would want to frame you with a joint?”
She shrugged. “My mother.”
Kate didn’t wait for his answer, opening the door and sliding out. She pulled her fake fur coat around her for warmth and teetered on her Jimmy Choo ankle-strap heels that had cost more than the coat and the dress together. Of course, she believed every businesswoman needed a good pair of designer shoes, especially on sale. Skipping the heating bill had been so worth it.
He spoke briefly with the parking attendant and strode over, pulling her to the side. Thank God, the cushion of fur blocked most of the electrical current. He stuck his nose close to her hair and took another whiff. “I’m taking you to one of the biggest dinners in my life and you’re high. Is this what you do with your Robert on a Saturday night?”
“I told you, I’m not high and it’s not mine.” She clamped down on the urge to stick out her tongue. “And Robert is none of your business.”
Frustration sparked from his gaze. A dangerous stillness settled over him, and her body roared to answer the call. A pure, sexual rush hit her hard. Her nipples pushed against the lace of her bra, and her pussy throbbed for relief. As if he sensed her reaction, he whispered his next words right by her ear. “Don’t push me, Kate. Unless you want to see what happens.”
Goose bumps broke out on her skin. Kate fought off the panic and pretended she was on the verge of a stuttering attack. She cleared her mind, reached down deep for composure, and breathed. When she steadied, she tipped her head up and met his gaze head-on. “I’m here to save your ass, counselor, so deal with it. Now, let’s go. We’re late.”
She broke his grip and walked toward the restaurant. Churrascaria Riodizio was one of the most popular Brazilian buffets in the city. “Any last-minute advice before you throw me to the wolves?” she asked.
Streaks of caramel hair blew in the frigid wind and lay against his brow. His smoke-gray cashmere coat emphasized his elegant sense of style, pinning him immediately as a Wall Street broker or lawyer. She’d dated both and swore she wouldn’t repeat the experience. “Be charming. And try to keep up.”
Then she was inside the restaurant.
The host led them to a private back room. Kate admired the high ceilings, elegant crystal chandeliers, and massive buffet where an array of seafood chilled on ice among beautifully cut sculptures. Large parties crammed into tightly seated tables, and the roar of conversation and laughter echoed in the air. She took three steps down into a plush inner chamber where corporate met and ruled.
Showtime.
The men rose quickly to greet them, clasping her hand in firm handshakes that thankfully didn’t set off any crazy electric vibes. Bob wore his distinguished gray hair cut close to the scalp, his skin well tanned. Probably from golf. He looked like a golfer. His razor-sharp gaze probed and assessed in record time, and Kate bet he’d been a literal predator in court. His commanding presence lured a jury to want to agree with the man. No wonder he was the owner.
Travis was his younger brother, and seemed a bit more relaxed, but his lazy charm gave him a different ruthlessness she appreciated. Kate assumed they did a great job of playing good cop/bad cop. She nodded her head at the third member of the party, Samuel Flag. He seemed about Slade’s age, with reddish-brown hair, thin lips, and commanding features. His robust laugh mocked the charade of seriousness at the table, but Kate knew he was more dangerous than maybe even Slade gave him credit for. His gray eyes held the flat dullness of a shark’s. What he wanted, he got. And it seemed his companion felt the same. Her red hair was lustrous and thick, and she packaged it well with a curvy body draped in lime-green silk. She was striking but didn’t overdo it, using subtle makeup, low-key jewelry, and demure shoes to balance her image. Like Samuel, her probing gaze made immediate opinions and quickly dismissed them as competition for possible partnership. Kate smothered a laugh. She guessed she didn’t own the killer instinct that would have garnered this woman’s respect. Samuel quickly introduced her as Melody, his current fiancée.
The other women seemed more welcoming. Linda and Tanya greeted her with warm handclasps, which threw Kate off for a few seconds. Odd, there wasn’t a buzz of chemistry confirming that they had married their soul mates. Not even a slight tingle. She always received a jolt of recognition when touching a married couple—or at least if it was a true soul match. They both glanced at their husbands with a deep affection and love from long-term marriage, past the point of crazed passionate encounters on the kitchen table, probably settling for the deeper emotions of the day-to-day chaos of true living. Kate bit her lip, wondering why she hadn’t sensed any connection, but introductions were over and she had no time to process this new information.
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