The Client: Short And Steamy (13 page)

BOOK: The Client: Short And Steamy
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Chapter Eleven
Paxton

T
hat mouth
of hers had driven me crazy almost from the very minute we’d met. If I was smart, I would have gone and found some boring, suit and tie lawyer, somebody who charged thousands on the hour and didn't make me think about bending her over her desk...

I’d chosen the attorney in Queens partly because she was in Queens, damn far from anywhere Brinke or her friends would be seen and because Leslie had looked…sharp. Her picture had jumped out at me from the ad in the phone book, looking like somebody who wouldn’t be manipulated by Brinke’s games. Like somebody who knew how to play those games herself and
win
.

But that mouth…

Yeah, if I'd been smart, I would have just found somebody else after the initial consult.

Now, a split second away from kissing her, I told myself again…
Fire her. Find somebody else.

I wouldn’t though. She was too damn good.

The phone rang.

Her eyes widened for a brief moment, then her lashes swept low, shielding the mesmerizing green. Standing, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and walked over to the window.

“Hey, Alex. What’s up?”

“Paxton…”

Immediately, dread settled inside, a heavy, ugly weight, and I hooked a hand over my neck, staring outside. “What’s she done now?”

“She left to go run a few errands…or so she said. She never came back. That was like three hours ago and Carter is getting pretty upset. I was going to take her to the play myself, but the tickets for the show aren’t here and…well. She was really looking forward to spending the day with her mom.”

Shit. I shifted my hand from my neck to my forehead, then pinched the bridge of my nose. So much for finishing up that last song. I was hoping to have something to show the guys on Monday, but that wasn’t going to happen. “Alright. Tell Carter I’ll be there soon. Look, if Brinke shows up…hell, just call me. And make sure you go with them if they go anywhere. I’ll catch up with you and take over, okay?”

“You got it. But you know she isn’t…” Alex didn’t finish.

She didn't have to. “I know.” Brinke wasn’t going to show. She was out partying. She’d already forgotten the plans she’d made with our daughter.

After disconnecting, I turned to Leslie. She was already gathering up her stuff, her face a carefully blank mask. “I’ve gotta go. Is there…do I need to sign stuff or anything to move forward from here?”

“No.”

She gave me a quick smile – the professional one she used almost every damn time she looked at me. I knew why she used it too. She felt the same tug I felt, only I was better at hiding it.

It was those eyes that gave her away.

“From here on out, a lot of the work is going to be mine. Well, up until it comes time to go to court.”

Court. It left a bad taste in my mouth. “I…look, I don’t want to keep Brinke away from Carter completely. She does love her.”

“I’m sure she does. But she’s also unstable. She…” Leslie sighed and set her bag on a chair.

This time, when she looked at me, there was no pretext or false smiles, nothing but seriousness – and concern, I realized. For a kid she didn’t even know. My kid. My heart gave an unsteady thump.

“You have to understand that she’s committed illegal acts that have placed your daughter in danger. I mean, I know you understand that. That’s what drove you to take action, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you need to take that action. Who knows, maybe this will be the thing that forces your wife to realize just how badly she needs help.”

I turned away. I guess a guy could hope. It might be like hoping for snow in July in New York City, but hey, anything was possible, right?


T
his is fucking impossible
.”

Staring at the dashboard of the 1962 Shelby Cobra I’d bought at auction the first time we'd gone platinum, I threw my head back against the butter soft leather and proceeded to mutter a long and steady stream of curses. Then I did it in Spanish. I was trying to help Carter become bilingual and I figured I’d do the same thing. All the fun words were cuss words. Not that I'd taught her any of those.

Climbing out of the car, I debated between throwing up the hood and kicking the tire. In the end, I kicked the tire, because there was no way I was going to touch the engine. That car was my baby and she was more temperamental than Brinke. No one but a pro touched her.

At the sound of a car stopping close by, I looked up, saw the valet just across the lot passing the key over to Leslie. She glanced up, smiled at me, but then the smile faltered. She said something to the valet and then trotted across the road to where I stood.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, the piece of shit engine won’t turn over.”

Leslie slid her eyes behind me. There was a gleam of appreciation in them as she studied the silver coat. “I don’t think you can call that car a piece of shit.”

“You're right. The car is fine. The engine is a temperamental piece of shit. It won’t turn over when I need it to. The damn car loves to screw with me.”

“I’m surprised you don’t have a driver who takes you wherever you want to go.”

Restless, I shrugged, tossing my keys into the air before catching them. “I do have one. He’s got kids, a wife. It’s a holiday. Besides, if I use him all the time, how am I ever going to drive my baby?”

“And that’s your baby…the car that’s screwing with you?” A smile curved her lips up.

I wanted to kiss that mouth, bad.

“Yeah.” With a curt nod, I sidestepped around her and headed toward the valet. It was Joey working today, so at least my luck didn’t totally suck. “Hey, can you call your brother? Tell him she’s acting up again?”

He gave me a pained look. “I can, Mr. Gorham, but he’s out of town for the Fourth. I know a couple of the guys are on call, though. Good guys, really. Tony doesn’t put up with losers.”

“That’s cool. If you keep an eye on her until somebody can get her to the garage, I’d appreciate it.” I pulled a few bills out of my pocket and passed them. Joey's older brother Tony ran a high-end repair shop, just for people who had cars like mine, expensive relics that liked to test their owners' patience. It was in good hands. “Thanks, kid.”

Turning, I saw Leslie still standing there. Figuring she needed to get her keys, I stepped away. “Enjoy the rest of your holiday.”

“How will you get to your place?” she asked to my back.

“The way anybody else does in New York, I guess. Take a taxi.”

She laughed and I heard the jingle of her keys. “On a holiday? You'd have better luck walking. Why don’t you let me give you a lift?”

Don’t do it.

I’d already reached the street and from where I stood, I saw two familiar yellow cars. One had their service light on, but as I watched, a woman with an arm full of bags flagged it down and she stepped up to the curb.

The other was parked off to the side of the road, light off.

Taking it as a sign, I turned back to her. “It’s a drive from here.”

“I’m not doing anything in particular.”

Unable to stop myself, I let my eyes drift back down to her mouth.

Don’t do it, Pax…

“Okay, yeah. Thanks.”

D
riving
with Leslie was a damn sight better than riding in a cab, I had to give her that.

For one, she smelled fantastic.

The way she smelled made me think of sex and hot summer nights, spent out on the lake, spread out on a blanket. That made me think of having
her
on a hot summer night, spread out on a blanket, by a lake. I even had a lake in mind – my place up in the mountains. Where no one was around for miles.

That clear, pale skin of skin of hers would gleam under the glow of the moon. I could imagine her mouth falling open as I trailed my fingers down her neck, her torso –

“Do you think your wife made it home?”

Head out of your ass,
I told myself.

As the car glided to a stop in front of my building, I debated on the answer. “No. If she made it home, Alex would have let me know.”

“The nanny lives with you, right?”

“Sort of. She’s got an apartment that’s connected to our penthouse, so yeah, I guess she does, more or less. Good memory.” I climbed out of the car and grabbed the messenger bag I used for work, and started to close it. Abruptly, I stopped and looked back inside. “You want to come up? You could…” I paused, faltering a bit, before deciding to just brazen it out. “You probably want to see that Carter’s happy and all, right? What’s the phrase…well-adjusted?”

“That’s a social worker, not me.” Her hands gripped the steering wheel. “I’m just here to help take care of the divorce.”

“Yeah, but at some point, she’ll drag a lawyer in it too, right? Maybe if you have a heads-up on whatever she plans to do to argue…” I was floundering bad here.
Let it go, Pax. Let it go.

That smile again, quick and brilliant, and then she turned off the car. “You’re not the first client who's ever suggested such a thing. It’s never made much of a difference, and I'm sure you’re a great father. But yes, I can come up for a few minutes. My car?”

“Valet will take care of it.” I held out my hand for her keys after she came around, even though the man heading the stand was already on his way over. Her fingers brushed my palm.

As much as I wanted to, I didn’t close my hand over hers.

She was coming upstairs. That was good enough.

Maybe if I spent a few more minutes around her, I could get her out of my head. Chances were, I was just obsessing because she was so…steady. Beautiful, hell, yes, but steady. So different from everything I was used to.

If I had any luck at all, she’d be lousy with kids and nothing was likely to sour me quicker than that.

Chapter Twelve
Leslie

I
hadn’t
lied
.

I'd met the families of my clients several times in the past, but that wasn’t why I’d agreed to go inside with Paxton Durham.

I was having a hard time separating my personal interest already, but I couldn't seem to stay away.

It’s business,
I reminded myself as we stepped inside the elevator. I needed to be professional. The doors slid silently closed and I settled back against the far wall with a quiet sigh, readjusting the bag on my shoulder and trying to convince myself this wasn’t a huge mistake.

Then Paxton shot me a grin and I smiled back.

I was so screwed.

The elevator doors opened to a wide, airy entryway that was clearly private. As soon as I stepped out, I could see there was only one residence on this floor. A matching pair of elegant tropical plants framed both sides of a regal looking set of carved wooden doors.

“This way,” Paxton said unnecessarily. He glanced at me, the expression on his face one I hadn’t seen before.

He looked…nervous, although I couldn’t understand why.

Unless he really was concerned that I might not think he was a good father.

He really did love his daughter. I could see that already, and I hadn’t even seen the two of them together. Everything he did seem to be centered around her. It kind of blew my mind that someone like him would be so involved, but even as the thought occurred to me, shame slid through me.

He might be some big rock idol, but he was still a guy, a guy who clearly cared about his child.

“Come on,” he said, clearing his throat before reaching out and unlocking the door. He stepped inside but didn’t have a chance to take more than that one step before a small girl came barreling toward him.

“Daddy!”

He caught her up in a hug and stepped further into the penthouse, moving off to the side so I could come in.

“Hey, baby.” He pressed a kiss to her head, all his attention on her. She tucked her head against his throat and curled her arms around his neck like it was her favorite place in the world to be. “You maybe wanna go hang out with me today? I’m tired of being cooped up in the studio. I wanna go have fun with my best girl.”

She sniffed. “Me and Mommy were supposed to go do fun stuff. She left and forgot about me.”

Paxton’s eyes closed briefly, his expression clouding. “Mommy wouldn’t forget. I bet something happened and she’s probably lost or something. You remember how she got lost with you in SoHo and had to use somebody else’s phone to call me because she left hers at home?”

There was a faint pause and then she nodded. “Yeah.”

“Bet it’s something silly like that.”

“But what if she’s lost again, and she can’t find us to see the fireworks?” Carter said, her voice rising at the end.

“I’m taking my phone. And Alex will have hers on. If Mom tries to call one of us, we’ll be able to talk to her. Okay? Come on, princess. Don’t be all down. You’ve been so excited about today.”

I watched as she slowly eased back, her eyes locked on her dad’s face. My heart twisted a little, and I felt a flare of anger at a woman who could be so careless with her child's feelings.

“Okay. But…we’re going to miss the show. It’s already started.”

“I’ll make it up to you. You and me, we’ll pick one out – or better yet,
you
can pick it out, and we’ll get the best seats. I’ll even see about getting you backstage too. It’ll be a date, just you and me.” He reached up and wiped at the tear on her cheek.

“Okay.” She sighed, a shaky little sound that was evidence that she had been crying harder than that earlier. She gave her dad another tight hug and then shoved at him, clearly ready to get down. She started to say something else but caught sight of me.

Her eyes widened. “Who are you?”

The question took Paxton off guard, but I’d been expecting it. She was six. I might not be a parent, but the past few years had giving me some experience with kids, and I knew this was a curious age. I smiled at her. “I’m a friend of your father. I’ve been working with him on something. You’re Carter, right?”

“Yes.” She narrowed her eyes and studied me with the seriousness only a child can muster. “Why are you here? Are you going to the fireworks with us?”

Now it was my turn to be caught by surprise. I opened my mouth, then closed it, uncertain how to respond to that. Before I figured it out, Carter kept going.

“We still don’t know the city too good – too
well…
” She rolled her eyes like she was sixteen instead of six and looked over her shoulder.

That was when I noticed a tall, slim woman – she looked barely out of her teens, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. The nanny, I assumed. Alex? Yes, that was it. The woman grinned at Carter and tapped her nose. Carter gave a long -suffering sigh before continuing.

“Alex does though. She’s been here before and even lived here for a little while when she went to college. She says she knows
all
about New York City. But she's supposed to be off tonight, and she’s going to do stuff with her new boyfriend. She’ll probably kiss him a lot too. She does that when nobody is looking.” She lowered her voice and leaned in to whisper very loudly, “I see them kissing. It’s gross.”

I managed to disguise my laugh as a cough. Paxton just looked amused. Judging by the lovingly exasperated look on Alex's face, this wasn't anything she hadn't heard before.

“Mommy was going to take me out into the city with a friend of hers, and
she
knows where all the good stuff is on the Fourth, but Mommy isn’t here. We’ve never done fireworks or nothing here. So…” She paused and took a deep breath, then rushed on. “Is that why you’re here? Do you live here? Do you know the city?”

“I…um…” I felt a little dazed. Okay, I
thought
I was used to kids, or at least experienced with them. Usually, though, they tended to be a bit quieter – or at least, not all but tripping over themselves with fifteen hundred questions a minute. Finally, I latched on the last clear bit of her explosive dialogue and answered. “Yes, I live here.” I managed to smile a little. “I bet I know the city even better than…Alex, right?”

Alex inclined her head, smiling a little. She looked a little sympathetic. “She’s a talker.”

“I noticed.”

“I have lots of stuff to say,” Carter said matter-of-factly. “We’ve never done fireworks here. You should come with us then. You can help us find all the good stuff.”

“Ah, you know you can’t set fireworks off here, right?” I shot Paxton a quick look.

“Yeah, we know.” He tugged on Carter’s ponytail. “She’s talking about finding stuff to do in the city. We can’t set them off in California, either. We were going to find one of the street festivals or something, then we planned to head down to the Hudson this evening. A friend has a place on the river.”

Rubbing at my temple, I managed to smile. “You really haven’t done the Fourth here before, have you?”

Carter giggled. “I just
said
that. We only moved here a couple of months ago.” Some of the animation left her face and she wandered over to the couch, dropping down on it and picking up a ragged looking bear. “I don’t like New York. We lived in California before and I
love
California. This place is
boring
. My old house had a big yard and I had a tree house and a swimming pool and I could go outside and play – as long as I didn't go by the pool. Now I live here and I’m stuck inside
all the time
.”

She shot her dad a mutinous look and Paxton blew out a breath before moving over to sit on the coffee table in front of her. “Honey, you go to the park with Alex all the time. And the zoo, the museums…you’ve made a bunch of new friends at school.”

“No, I haven’t. Some of the kids are mean and they think I’m stupid because I’m in summer school.” She sniffed, looking dejected.

“You’re not stupid,” he said in a firm ‘father’ voice. It was clear this was a discussion they'd had before.

She buried her face in her bear.

“I miss my old friends,” she said softly. “It’s no fun here.”

Heart tugging, I moved closer without realizing I’d even done so.

Paxton glanced up as I sat on the edge of the arm of the couch. “There’s lots of fun things here, Carter,” I said. “I bet I can show you.”

She looked up at me, a quick, nervous look. “Are you going to come with us? Take us to some of the fun stuff in the city?”

Paxton cocked an eyebrow at me.

“Ah…well, I’m not sure how your dad feels about that.”

“He doesn’t mind,” Paxton said neutrally.

H
ours later
, I collapsed on a lounge and stared out at the river.

“I’m going to say this…I don’t think I’ve ever had a view like this for the Fourth of July,” I said when Paxton settled down on the lounge next to mine and offered me a frosty cold bottle of some dark beer.

I couldn’t make heads or tails of the label, but I really didn’t care. I was hot and exhausted, but I’d had more fun than I’d had in a very long time.

Carter was curled up on a fat, round chair, sleeping. Nodding toward her, I asked, “Is she going to wake up for the fireworks?”

“I’ll wake her up after she’s had a chance for a nap. She won’t let me live it down otherwise.” He smiled at me before taking a sip from his bottle. When he lowered it, his eyes were still locked on mine, and my heart started to race, my blood burning inside my lungs.

It was enough to make my head feel all funny and light, especially combined with the exhaustion and heat of the day, and now, putting alcohol on top of it, I was practically buzzed. Maybe I should have stuck with water.

“Thanks for coming out with us,” he said. “I know that wasn’t what you had in mind, but Carter had fun.”

“So did I.” I smiled, then shifted my gaze away, looking down the crowded street. It was all shut down to vehicular traffic, standard for Independence Day. Once I explained how awful traffic would be, Paxton suggested I leave my car parked in the guest valet parking and we’d taken a taxi – Carter had loved it – for part of the day, then walked down here. He’d assured me he would have my car brought to me in the morning. He also promised to make sure I got home.

The wind kicked up, and I looked off into the distance, staring at the slowly building clouds. Bad weather was supposed to move in later, but the forecasters were saying it shouldn’t affect the fireworks.

The scent of ozone hung heavy in the air, and I could almost feel the promise of rain. I just hoped it held off so Carter could see the fireworks.

“Me too.” Paxton's voice was low.

I swung my gaze back to his, momentarily unsure of what he was referring to. By the time I figured it out, he was up and moving away. I watched as he stopped maybe five feet from where I was, pulling his phone out.

He lifted it to his ear.

Although I couldn’t hear the words, something about the tension creeping into his body told me who it was. When he glanced around and seemed to realize how many people were looking at him, he froze even more. That protective streak started to heat inside me and I got up, moving toward him.

He caught sight of me as well, stopping in mid-sentence.

I caught his arm and he frowned, clearly not understanding my intent. Still, he allowed me to lead him back to the relative privacy of the corner where we’d been. I nudged him down onto the lounge chair – farthest from the crowd – and then I moved to stand in the entryway of the small alcove, barring it and offering him whatever privacy I could.

A few people gave me appraising looks, but I ignored them, drinking my beer and playing deaf to the conversation going on behind me.

Not for the first time, I found myself thinking…
She must be crazy.

Brinke had taken off. Even though I was trying not to listen, it was impossible not to pick up on that much. She was crazy. She had a guy like Paxton. How could she
not
appreciate him? And their daughter was amazing. I knew that from just one day.

If I had a family like this, I might not have minded the thought of settling down.

BOOK: The Client: Short And Steamy
13.17Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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