Let's Make It Legal (6 page)

Janet Cameron hesitated only a second, then she shrugged and sighed. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry. I don’t know where my manners are.”

Sydney stepped into a bright foyer. The hardwood floors gleamed with polish and loving care. She only had a few seconds to take in the furnishings: a grandfather clock in one comer and an umbrella stand in the other, and along the wall a small, beautifully refinished walnut bureau and next to it, a Windsor chair. An oriental carpet runner in shades of soft rose and blue complemented the rose-blue-and-cream striped wallpaper and rich walnut moldings, and a soft watercolor of a rainy Paris street scene hung above the bureau.

The chatter and laughter had stopped, but Sydney knew it had come from the big room to the left. Although Janet Cameron started to lead Sydney to the right, Sydney turned and looked into the other room.

Three pairs of eyes met hers.

Green ones in a little boy who looked to be about five or six.

Hazel ones in a little girl who looked to be about ten or eleven.

And warm, dark brown ones that belonged to John Whipple. A John Whipple who was sitting behind a big desk and looked as if he belonged there.

The game was up.

Resigned, John met Sydney’s cool gaze. He stood and said, “Hello, Miss Wells.”

Behind Sydney, Janet gave John a frantic what-are-we-going-to-do-now? look. He tried to convey with his eyes that there was nothing to be done now but to face the music.

Janet looked as if she wanted to cry as she touched Sydney’s arm. “We might as well go in.”

The two women advanced into the room.

“Listen, kids,” John said, “you go upstairs and do your homework. I’ll be up in a little while.”

“But Daddy,” Emily protested. “We were just—”

“Emily!” His tone said he would not tolerate any argument.

“Oh, okay.” Emily gave John her long-suffering look, but she and Jeffrey left and John heard their footsteps pound up the uncarpeted stairs.

John winced. He wondered what Sydney Wells thought of his unconventional office. If the look on her face was any indication, probably not much.

“Please, Miss Wells,” Janet said, “have a seat.” She indicated the circular grouping of Queen Anne chairs around a glass-topped mahogany coffee table where applicants sat and filled out their paperwork while waiting to be interviewed.

Sydney walked over to one of the chairs and sat. Her narrow black skirt rode up a few inches, exposing a good-looking knee to go along with her shapely legs. Primly, she tugged it down.

As John sat across from her, the thought flitted through his mind that no matter how she tried to disguise the fact that she was a woman, she would never be entirely successful hiding it. She was simply too attractive, despite her no-frills appearance.

Sydney looked at John, angry glints firing her eyes, making them look even bluer. “Don’t you think I deserve some sort of explanation?”

He could see that she was struggling to hold on to her temper. “Yes, of course you do. But first, let’s get the names straight, okay? I’m John Appleton.” He couldn’t help a small smile. “John L. Appleton, to be precise. And you already know my twin sister, Janet Cameron. We’re co-owners of the agency.”

He didn’t try to evade her gaze or the censure he knew she must feel. He knew he was in the wrong here, and if he had to eat crow, he’d do it.

“And just why did you lie to me? Mr.
Appleton?”
John studied her thoughtfully. “I’m sorry, Miss Wells. I never intended to lie to you.”

“Then why did you?”

“If you’ll think back, I tried to explain who I was.”

“No, you didn’t!”

“Yes, I did.”

“When?” she said indignantly.

“When you came out of your office that morning and found me talking to your secretary. I started to tell you who I really was, but you cut me off and said you didn’t have time to listen to excuses. Remember?”

Her blue eyes narrowed dangerously. “You know I thought you were offering up excuses for being late.”

“Yes. And technically, I suppose I was. Because the reason I was late is that Jo Whipple, the temp who was supposed to work for you, had called in sick that morning, and I was the only person available to take her place. And by the time I knew I was going to have to fill in, it was already past the time she’d been due at your firm.”

“Then why didn’t someone call and tell me so?” she said hotly. “What was I
supposed
to think, when Norma said—”

“Your secretary just assumed I was Jo, and you stormed out of your office before I’d had a chance to correct her.”

Janet spoke up, her voice soft but firm. “I tried to call your secretary and tell her about the switch, but I couldn’t get through to her, and by the time I could, John was already there. I figured he would explain everything to you.”

“I
did
try,” John said. Oh, hell. He might as well be completely honest with her. They’d probably blown her business, anyway. “But you ticked me off when you barreled right over me and were rude on top of it. When you as much as told me to shut up, I thought, okay, the hell with her, I won’t say another word in explanation. Let her go on thinking whatever she wants to think.” He shrugged. “Besides, there was work to be done.”

For a long moment, they stared at each other. He wondered what she was thinking. He’d taken a chance being honest with her. She might just get up and walk out, taking her firm’s lucrative account with her.

He hoped that wouldn’t happen, not only because they couldn’t afford to lose the business, but because he liked Sydney Wells. He wanted her to respect him.

The grandfather clock in the foyer chimed the quarter hour, and from upstairs, John could hear the children laughing. Beside him, Janet stirred nervously.

Then, to John’s surprise and pleasure, Sydney gave him a self-deprecating little smile and said, “I
was
pretty obnoxious, wasn’t I?”

John grinned. “Well...”

She nodded. “I guess I owe you an apology, too.”

“No, you don’t. As far as I’m concerned, we’re even.”

“I’m going to give you one, anyway,” she insisted. “I’m sorry about the way I acted. I was irritated and worried and tired and I took it out on you...and Norma.” Her gaze met his unflinchingly.

John decided she had the prettiest blue eyes he’d ever seen. He also decided she was one of the gutsiest women he’d ever met. He liked that about her. He wasn’t a man who felt threatened by a strong woman.

“Well...” Sydney stood. “I guess there’s no way I’m going to get
you
to come back and work for me, is there?”

John stood, too. “Afraid not, although Janet said you were prepared to better my other offer.” He grinned. “And they do say everyone has his price.”

Sydney nodded ruefully. “That was pretty arrogant of me, wasn’t it?”

“Hey, I was kind of flattered.”

She smiled and picked up her briefcase. “Tell me, are you really a paralegal?”

“No, I’m a lawyer.”

Her eyes widened. “A lawyer! Really? But you don’t practice law?”

John started to reply to the question, then stopped, thought a minute and said, “Do you have any plans for dinner?”

She seemed startled by his question but hesitated only a second before answering. “No.”

“Tell you what. Why don’t I take you to dinner? I think I owe you at least that much after what’s happened.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Mr. Apple—”

“And please call me John.”

Those bright blue eyes studied him for a moment, then she smiled warmly.

She should smile more often, John thought.

“I’d love to go to dinner with you, John.”

“Good,” John said, pleased, although he wasn’t sure what he was going to do about the kids. Maybe Janet would take them home with her.

“And I’d like for you to call me Sydney,” she continued. She stuck out her hand. “Is it a deal?”

As John took her smaller hand in his, shaking it solemnly, he wondered if he had lost his sanity. He had promised himself he would stay far away from Sydney Wells, and here he was, doing just the opposite.

Oh, hell, no big deal. He would take her to dinner—after all, he did owe her—and then, tomorrow, he would put her out of his mind.

* * *

Sydney waited downstairs while John and his sister went upstairs to what Sydney assumed were John’s living quarters. Although John had said he would call a teenager who lived down the street to come and stay with his children, Janet had said her husband was at a meeting and wouldn’t be home until late, so she would stay with the kids while Sydney and John went to dinner.

Before Janet went upstairs, she’d offered her hand to Sydney, and apologized once more. Her apology was polite enough and seemed sincere enough, but Sydney sensed a reserve in the woman. She had the uncomfortable feeling that Janet didn’t like her very much.

Although Sydney should have been used to that reaction—Lord knows, she got it often enough—for some reason, Janet Cameron’s lack of friendliness bothered her. After all, Sydney had done nothing to Janet. It was really the other way around.

Then Sydney realized that Janet might simply be reacting to John’s unexpected dinner invitation. Perhaps Janet didn’t like the idea that John had asked her out. But why she should disapprove, Sydney couldn’t imagine. It wasn’t like this was a date, or anything.

Sydney was still thinking about Janet when John came downstairs a few minutes later, looking handsome and casual in dark pants and a tan corduroy sports coat. Sydney eyed him appreciatively and thought about how long it had been since she’d gone to dinner with a good-looking man. It had to have been at least six months.

Cliff O’Malley, from the prosecutor’s office, had been her last attempt to date—and that episode had been as unsatisfying as most of the others she’d experienced over the past few years. As long as she and Cliff were talking shop, they’d been fine, but the minute the talk turned to anything else, Sydney had felt tongue-tied and inadequate. And she knew Cliff had been bored. He certainly hadn’t called her again.

Of course, tonight wasn’t like that, Sydney reminded herself again. Tonight wasn’t a date, it was business.

“Do you like Mexican food?” John asked, taking her arm and purposefully steering her out the front door.

“I’m passionate about Mexican food.”

He grinned. “Good. Me, too.” They walked out onto the porch.

The setting sun had gilded the world a rosy orange, and Sydney thought about how twilight could either be the loveliest or loneliest time of day.

“Do you mind walking a few blocks?” John said when they reached the sidewalk.

“No, not at all.” It was a bit cool, but not unpleasantly so—perfect for walking, Sydney thought.

“We’ll walk, then. I’m taking you to a neighborhood restaurant owned by some friends of mine. They serve the best Mexican food you ever ate.”

“Good. I’m starved.” Sydney had forgotten to eat lunch today, which was par for the course with her. And all she’d had for breakfast was half a grapefruit and dry toast because she’d forgotten to buy margarine.

They didn’t talk much on the short walk, but Sydney didn’t feel awkward about the silence. Somehow, with John, she felt relaxed and perfectly natural. Less than ten minutes after starting out, they arrived at a small restaurant with a sign proclaiming it to be Maria’s Mexican Cafe.

“Maria and Hector Alvarez are two of the nicest people you’ll ever meet,” John said, opening the front door for Sydney. Warm food smells greeted her as she walked in ahead of John.

They had no sooner been seated by a smiling, dark eyed waitress dressed in a colorful Mexican dress when a small dark man with a beaming smile approached their table.

“John!” he exclaimed. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Hello, Hector.”

“And with such a beautiful young lady!” Hector turned his brilliant smile on Sydney.

“I’d like you to meet my friend, Sydney Scott Wells,” John said. “Sydney, this is Hector Alvarez.”

“Hello, Mr. Alvarez,” Sydney said, smiling.

“Oh, yes, so very beautiful,” Hector said. He reached for her hand, bowing over it and, to Sydney’s amusement, kissing it. He sighed elaborately. “John, where did you find her?”

John chuckled. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” He looked around. “Where’s Maria tonight?”

Hector rolled his eyes. “At her mother’s house. You know how it is with Maria. When Mama calls . . . “

John and his friend talked for a few more minutes, and Sydney thought how nice it was to see two men so relaxed with each other, so obviously not in competition with each other. It seemed to her that most of the men she knew were in a constant state of one-upmanship.

They bragged about their conquests, both at work and in the romance department, and showed off their possessions with an air of I’ll-bet-you-can’t-beat-that. Sydney hated men like that. Men like that were always put off by her, too. They seemed to require the type of woman who would hang on their every word and say little more than, “You’re so wonderful, honey.”

Soon, Hector left, and within minutes, John and Sydney each had a frosty margarita in front of them and were sharing a huge basket of hot, crispy tostados and a bowl of the best picante sauce Sydney had ever tasted.

“These are wonderful,” Sydney said, eating enthusiastically.

“I like a woman with a good appetite,” John commented after a few minutes.

Sydney could feel her face heating. What was wrong with her? She’d been stuffing her face. That was sure a great way to impress a man. “I didn’t have any lunch.”

“Don’t apologize!” He grinned. “I meant it. I can’t stand women who pick at their food.”

“No one’s ever accused me of that.” To get the subject off her, Sydney said, “Tell me how a lawyer ends up in the temporary employment business.”

His smile faded and he shrugged. “When my wife died suddenly three years ago, everything changed for me. I completely reevaluated my life and found that things that had once been important to me no longer were. Besides, I needed to find a way to be around for my kids.”

“I’m sorry about your wife.”