Lust on the Rocks (20 page)

“Okay.”  Maria finished her scribble with an exaggerated dot of her pen into the yellow legal pad.  “How far back should I go?”

Good question.  “Let’s say we search the last twenty years.”

“Whoa…”  Her eyes widened, her pen paused midair.  “That might take a while.”

Sam waited through her hesitation.

With no elaboration, Maria instantly clicked back to business.  “I’ll call research and get them started right away.”

“No.”  Sam’s breathing slowed, and she pulled the noose tighter.  “I want you to keep this to yourself.”

Black eyes sharpened in response.

“I don’t want it getting out that I’m looking into Scaliano.”

“Why not?” she asked defensively.  “It’s your case.  You can look into anyone you want.”

Sam nodded, tamping down a sudden surge of excitement.  “Trust me on this one.  It will only complicate matters if it’s made public.”

Casting a skeptical glance around the office, Maria said, “Okay, you’re the boss.”

“Thanks, Mare.”

Chapter Seventeen

“Are you still thinking about Jessica?”

How did she do it? Sam wondered.  Standing in front of the lavishly dressed store window, Jennifer Hamilton bore not a strand of hair out of place, or smudge on her face.  It had to be ninety-five degrees out, the air soupy, yet her best friend stood flawless in a crisp white linen halter dress and flat leather sandals like a model posed for a photoshoot on along Miracle Mile.

Sam on the other hand was feeling the heat and her hair was reacting, more wild and curly than usual.  But the humidity did that to her,
every
time.  “Jen, I think it’s fair to say I’ll be consumed with thoughts of her for quite some time.”

“You can’t make this decision for her.”

“No?” Sam challenged.

The concern staked in those blue eyes of her pal’s was unmistakable.  Jen shook her head, straight, shiny brown hair swishing across her shoulders.  “It’s not yours to make.”

And it wasn’t fair.

Practically sisters themselves, Jen knew a part of Sam felt responsible for Jess’ predicament.  She had a hand in raising her, helped nurture the girl through menstruation and teenage rebellion, single-handedly convinced her college was the best route...

What happened
?

The damn pregnancy was so unexpected—so complicated—Sam almost wished it were an illness.  Then she could send Jess to the doctor and cure the girl.  “The kid needs help.”

“She also needs to learn to stand on her own two feet.  There are consequences for her actions, which she’s learning now.  I think you should give her credit for coming to you from the start.”

“What choice did she have?”

“She could have hidden the fact.  She could have aborted the baby without recourse.  Or, she could have run off with her boyfriend and set up house.”  Jennifer smiled and took a step toward Sam.  “But she didn’t.  She came home to you.”  She placed a light finger to Sam’s chest.  “Her big sister, her hero, for the moral support she knew you’d supply.”

Calculations started to fire in Sam’s mind.  Allowing her gaze to wander through the window, feasting on the decadent chocolates boxed in gold, Sam recalled an organization set up to help unwed mothers.  She could send Jess there for counseling, for direction, then the two of them could go over her options, decide which way she should go.

“You can’t fix this for her.”

Sam cut back to Jen.  That’s exactly what she wanted to do.  What she had always done.  “But I’m a fix-it kinda gal.”

“I know.”  Blue eyes melted as they reached out and embraced Sam.  “But you can’t this time. 
Please
, don’t fix it.”  She set a gentle hand to her forearm.  “Jessica needs to stew on this one.  She needs to feel the significance of her situation and act accordingly.”

Dr. Jennifer Hamilton was her best friend and damn smart, but worse, she knew how Sam’s mind worked.  She knew if left to her own device, Sam would step in and take over the decision process, solve all Jess’ problems to
her
satisfaction, and get the girl back on track.

And why not?  She made a mistake, used poor judgment, but this miscalculation could cost her a lifetime—if she didn’t handle it correctly.

Jennifer slipped a hand around the brown shoulder strap of her purse and assumed her “I-know-what’s-best” doctor stance.  “You know I’m right.”

“I know nothing of the sort.”

She gave a nod toward the elegant Mediterranean building, its display window spotless and clear.  “You’re as transparent as this window.”

“I am a master of emotional disguise.”

“Maybe in the courtroom,” Jennifer tossed back.  “But not with me.”  As though to underscore her point, she nailed Sam to the wall with an eye-full of reproach, then dropped her to the sidewalk with a
splat
.  “Seriously Sam, you need to butt out.  Hold her hand, but let her do the contemplating.  Let her do the decision-making.  If you don’t, she may end up with regrets later in life, the what ifs over the road not traveled and end up blaming
you
for them.”

Sam hadn’t considered that angle.  She honed in on the possibility.  Maybe Jen had a point.  Maybe she had been too busy problem-solving to see it.

“This must come from her.  Be there for her, hold her hand, but let her do the deciding.”

“
Hmph.
”

With an air of defiance, Jen lifted her chin ever so slightly and turned.  “I need some new sandals.”  With a pivot of her heel, she resumed her leisurely stroll down the sidewalk.

Damn if Jen wasn’t right.  Jessica needed to find her own way.  This was
her
journey, no one else’s.  It was a fork in the road to the woman she would become, and sisterly intervention would only hold her back.  Frustration boiled.  “Damn logic,” Sam muttered.

But wisdom did nothing to ease her state of mind.  What if Jess bungled it?  Youthful idealism was a great concept, except when it rallied the troops and forged them ahead in the
wrong
direction.  Then what?  In this case, the results could be disastrous.

“I only plan to advise her,” Sam called out.

“Advise me on sandals,” she replied over her shoulder.

“Sandals, she says.”  Futility blew out with a sigh, but Sam followed, her heart dragging heavily behind.  Not like she had a choice.  The woman was a raging bulldozer on issues of the heart, though to look at her, you’d never suspect.

Sam hurried to catch up.  In fact, to look at the two of them, they were a study in opposites.  Both were trim in physique, yet Jen was soft and conservative while Sam preferred bold and bright, much like her sundress today, with its melee of tropical hues and patterns.  But on the inside, where it really mattered, their hearts beat in unison.  Both held ambition, drive and fire—albeit Jen’s smoldered beneath the surface.

Closing the distance, Sam tried again. “Listen—”

“Let it go, Sam.”  Jennifer slowed to a stop, her interest drawn to a display of designer handbags and luggage perched on an intricate tapestry.  “It’s not healthy for you to fester.”

“I have a lot of unhealthy habits and I’m doing just fine, thank you.”  And there was no reason she couldn’t help Jess.

Jess was the only baby who didn’t fight when she changed their diapers, never bit her when angry, or showered her in spit-up.  Two weeks ago over the toilet had been the closest she’d come to
that
disgusting feat.

Strange, but the memory brought a smile to her lips.  There was a first time for everything and as promised, she had been there.  Jess needed her and she had been there.

Along with Sam’s handsome lover!

What a gold mine of compassion he was, especially when it came to soiled toilet bowls and fool-smelling stench.  Her commode had been downright dazzling after Vic finished with it.  The image of him cleaning up after Jess touched Sam in an odd, warm-fuzzy sort of way.  And it allowed her to let go of Jess’ plight, if only momentarily.  The man was definitely a rare find.

Determined not to ruin her afternoon with Jen, Sam effectively closed the subject.  “I’ll take your advice under consideration, but I won’t guarantee anything.”

“Wonderful.”

Besides, she’d already stuffed Jen with an earful over brunch.  Two Mimosas and Sam had worked back twenty years, rehashing family feuds and personal heartbreaks, trying to figure out how Jessica could have acted so irrationally.

None of it was news to Jennifer.  But Jen, being a lot closer to sainthood than she, heard her out like any dutiful angel would.  Sam gave an inward grunt.  Only this one walked and talked and offered unsolicited advice.

Thank God
.

“C’mon,” Sam said, linking an arm through Jennifer’s.  “I’m in the mood to buy something.”

Jennifer hesitated, but only for a second.  “My wallet is game!”

“Good, because there’s a lingerie shop up ahead I need to hit.”

“
Lingerie
?  Good Heavens, why Sam?  You own enough now to open your own shop!  What on earth do you need with more?”

“Very funny.”  Sam faked a smile and hauled her forward.  “My new man wants to see me in something fresh and exciting and you know me, I’m all sweets and accommodation when it comes to others.”

Jennifer laughed as she tagged along.  “No one would call you sweet or accommodating, Sam, but I am interested in hearing more about this new suitor of yours.”

“What’s to tell?”  Pleasure pulsated through her as she summarized, “He’s firecracker hot with sushi knife smarts and...he’s sweet.”

“What?”  Jennifer balked, pulling Sam to a halt with her.  “A sweet man attracted to you?  I don’t believe it.”

It was Sam’s turn to laugh.  “I know, but you know how the universe works—stranger things have happened!”

Jennifer returned a glance virtually buzzing with curiosity.  “I see...”

“Let’s go ‘see’ somewhere productive,” Sam replied, and tugged her pal forward.

When they arrived, Jennifer peered through the window, her eyes rounding.  “Oh my, will you look at that?”  She pointed to a next-to-nothing piece in sapphire blue.

More see-through lace than concealing satin, Sam gaped at her friend.  “Since when do you buy skimpy lingerie?”

Jennifer visibly blushed.  “I’m getting married, remember?  And I discovered my man has a penchant for sexy underwear.”

“And this is news to you?  What man
doesn’t
want to see his woman spilling out of a tiny lace teddy?  For that matter, any woman.  It’s in the genes—” she gave a quick wink, “or jeans, if you know what I mean.”

“Stop it.”  Jen checked for eavesdroppers, her cheeks tinting red.  “Let’s go inside.”

“Before someone sees us, you mean?” Sam asked in her best conspiratorial tone, but couldn’t suppress her amusement.  Jen could be such a prude when it came to the public eye.

“No—before I throttle you.”

Unaffected, she conceded.  “Okay, I hear you, I hear you.”

Sam swung the door open, instantly assaulted by an overwhelming potpourri of rose and dusky florals, scents she likened to Crabtree and Evelyn fragrance sachets, the kind her mother used to stuff in her underwear drawer.

Most assuredly not her cup of
chi
.

Adjusting her nose to the overpowering bouquet, she gave a polite smile to the heavyset woman behind the counter and meandered inside.  Pretty, frilly, the décor was pure Victorian.  Lovely, but why this industry insisted on associating a woman’s sexuality with a time period that prohibited the same, beat the hell out of her.  Sam looked around.  Embroidered mannequins, elegant paintings, there was not so much as a photograph of a real woman dressed in the sexy underwear.

Men and women were getting together, no matter how you tried to pretend otherwise.  Why not flaunt the body and stand proud?

Jen began to peruse a front rack of blue lingerie, much like she had admired in the window.  Sam opted for red. “What do you think about this little number?”  She held up a shiny one-piece for inspection.

“That it looks like the fifty other red outfits you own.  Why don’t you try something new?”

Sam was offended.  “For starters, Vic’s favorite color on me is red.  And second, are you insinuating that I’m boring and predictable?”

“I’m only suggesting you try the element of surprise.”

“Now
you’re
giving me advice on the fine art of seduction?”

Jennifer shrugged and flipped back a smile.  “Stranger things have happened,” she replied, and resumed browsing.

Sam pushed the outfit back into place on the crowded rack and joined her friend in the blue section.  “Maybe blue,” she said, feeling no attraction to the color whatsoever.

“You sure do like him, that much is certain.”

“Why?  Because I take his taste into account when I buy lingerie? 
Hmph
.  I’m just looking for an excuse to buy.”

“When do I get to meet him?”

A flurry of nerves blew through Sam’s chest.  “You don’t need to meet him.”

“No?”

“No.  He’s a guy.  Same as any other man I’ve dated.  You’ve never felt the urge to meet them before.”  Suspicion rolled through her.  “Why now?”

“Like you said, this one’s sweet.  I’ve never seen you with sweet before.  He sounds intriguing.”

Sam’s nerves scurried up the back of her neck.  “It was a comment in passing.  Don’t put too much into it.”

“And you don’t try to evade me.”  Jen carried on in the most uncharacteristically nonchalant way.  “I know better.”

“Exactly what do you know—or think you know?”  Sam hoped she sounded demanding and not frantic, like the stage production of anxiety playing out throughout her body.

“I know your voice changes every time you mention his name.”

“It does not.”

Metal hangers slid across the chrome bar as Jennifer rifled through them.  “I know your eyes light up every time I mention his name.”

“Bullshit.”

She shuffled a few more and pulled one out for a gander.  “I know you want to please him.”  Turning it backward and forward, she scrutinized the one-piece in her hand.  “Take his thoughts into consideration which is a sure sign of respect.”