B008KQO31S EBOK (13 page)

“I don’t need a date.”

Mom’s tone turned arch. “Because you’re seeing someone already? What are you keeping from me, Philippa?”

“Nothing.” Sullen and sixteen was looking like a good behavior pattern to me right now. The office phone was still ringing and it was ganging up with the champagne residuals to give me a serious headache.

“You see. You
do
need a date. Jeffrey will pick you up at noon for lunch.”

“Mother! I don’t do lunch!”

“Everyone who matters does lunch, Philippa.”

“I have a business to run!”

“Jeffrey’s very punctual, so I suggest you be ready. You never have a second chance to make a first impression, dear.”

“I’m not going,” I said, but the dial tone wasn’t responsive to my opinion.

I treated myself to one small obscenity, then tossed the receiver back into the cradle. The office phone rang only a moment longer before Elaine hung it up too.

“Sorry. I thought I was pretty good for improv.” She leaned one hip against my desk. “Still no match for the wiles of Mom, huh?”

“I should have known it would only be a matter of time.”

“What?”

“She’s fixing me up with a
lawyer
.” I looked my partner in the eye. “He’s the first, but he won’t be the last.”

“You say his occupation like it’s a disease.”

“Trust me, it is.”

“But think of all the lovely money.” Elaine grinned. “You could get a few nice rocks for your collection, if nothing else.”

Elaine is so open about her mercenary tendencies that it’s impossible to hold them against her. She loves pretty things, pretty
expensive
things, and makes no bones about it. More than one man has bought her a bauble with a few brilliant carats just to bask in Elaine’s smile.

Or maybe to enjoy other favors. I don’t ask. There are some things I just don’t need to know.

The men come, the men go, the gifts pile up. Heartless and gorgeous, Elaine hits men before they even know what’s happening, gets what she wants and leaves them gasping for breath. She does so with such charm that more than a few of them come back for more. It’s not her fault that so many of them hope to change her.

Because if nothing else, Elaine plays fair—she never pledges love, she never offers more than she’s willing to deliver, and she is brutally honest with her conquests.

She hadn’t found a man yet who could bear that honesty for long. I was kind of looking forward to witnessing that match.

If it ever happened.

“You’ve got me confused with you,” I charged with a smile.

Elaine shrugged, then rummaged through the drawings on her desk. “Well, you can throw any strays my way, if you like. Lawyers make a decent buck. Have you seen the Villeroy & Boch catalog?”

“Over there. Hey, how about Bachelor #1?” I felt remarkably generous date-wise under the circumstances. “Noon today. Lawyer. My father’s new junior partner and he does pay well.” I recounted Mom’s list of Jeffrey’s assets, then spread my hands. “He’s all yours.”

Elaine flicked a glance my way, the quickness of the move not hiding her interest. “Lawyer, hmm? Has this paragon of masculine virtue got a name?”

“Jeffrey McAllister.”

Elaine looked up quickly, her skin paling beneath her foundation. The phone rang before I could ask, then there was nothing beyond Mrs. Hathaway’s fears for her prize hellebores over the course of the landscaping project.

Maybe I was working my way through a second set of three mishaps. The view was definitely looking more familiar—but then, I do well facing adversity, just like I told you before. It’s feeling lucky that throws my game.

But now I was right back in the trenches. Mrs. H. was officially my numero uno concern, thanks to that lovely new contract, and I was ready to do anything to ensure she was thrilled to her toes with Coxwell & Pope.

Which was why I was in the Beast within minutes, heading for the Hathaway house to move those hellebores with my bare hands, if need be.

Time for a little client TLC. I was toying with the idea of not coming back to the office until
after
lunch, but already knew I wouldn’t do it. There’d be hell to pay if I insulted Father’s new protégé.

And the truth is that what’s bred in the bone does come out in the flesh. I am my mother’s daughter, for better or for worse, and the older I get, the more I see her patterns of behavior in mine. There’s no getting around it—there are some things I just can’t do. Being rude is one of them. I’m becoming my mother in some ways, a terrifying prospect for me which would delight her.

Tell her that, and I’ll have to hurt you.

* * *

He reached the perimeter of the city, more dusty than he had been since arriving at Timbuktu. But that dust had been red, this was a more pedestrian brown.

Not that Timbuktu could have in any way been mistaken for the avenue of rampant consumerism that led to Phil’s office.

Her office was on the outskirts of suburbia, presumably because land was cheaper here. The Coxwell & Pope building was small and stand-alone, a glorified double garage with cheap siding and a fenced yard behind. The front lot was gravel and the windows were coated with the resulting dust. It wasn’t fancy, but he had almost tasted her pride this morning.

He could relate to that.

The city was closing fast, though. A few nurseries lingered on either side of the four lane road, their buildings hinting at a recent past when they were still out in the country. More than one had yuppified and gone upscale—Nick guessed the others wouldn’t last, at least not in this location. Looking toward Boston from Phil’s office, burger joints and gas stations jostled for position, the signs of a few big discount stores rising above the rest.

Soon the fields behind would be filled with tract houses. Nick grimaced, not wanting to imagine the greenery divided into little lots, their driveways choked with minivans. People had to live somewhere, but he was starting to wonder what they’d do when the whole country was paved from sea to shining sea.

Those donuts had long since exhausted their usefulness, the sun was high and he was ravenous. That’s what he got for eating sugary junk. It was burned through in nothing flat. Maybe he hadn’t missed those donuts as much as he had thought.

On the upside, his timing was perfect. He’d kidnap Phil for lunch.

The Beast was gone, though that didn’t necessarily mean that Phil was gone with it. There was also a dinged pick-up truck parked in the lot. It looked to be of the same vintage as the Beast and had once been red. The lettering on the side proved it too belonged to the business.

The bed was filled with an array of shovels, plus a gizmo with an electrical cable he couldn’t name. Interlock samples were cast on the dusty cab seat and the windows were open. A golden retriever sprawled on the drivers’ seat assessed Nick with wise eyes, its tail thumping as soon as he spoke to it.

“Big schmoozer, aren’t you?” he teased, scratching the dog’s ears. “You’d unlock the doors and give it all away, if you could, tough guy.” The dog leaned into the scratch with obvious delight, whimpering a little when Nick continued on.

A sleek small BMW nestled beside the truck, the shiny silver paint incongruous with the truck’s heavy patina of dust. Company calling, he concluded. There was also a turquoise Geo, a efficient vehicle of which he heartily approved.

The chain link gate to the small yard behind the building gaped open now, no longer padlocked as it had been this morning. He spotted a man in work boots, jeans and a red tank top sorting through the interlock and stones. It was a bit chilly for such summer wear, but the guy had the build for it. His tan gleamed gold and his hair was bleached fair, his physique testament to how many of these rocks he had moved.

No sign of Phil there.

A quick survey of the street revealed that the Beast wasn’t making a reappearance. The golden retriever had propped its chin on the rolled down window of the truck, its dark gaze fixed on Nick.

“Some watchdog,” he told it. “Not so much as a growl.”

That tail beat against the seat again.

He rapped once on the office door before striding in. He had only a heartbeat to notice that the office was not only as cheerful, colorful and chaotic as Phil’s kitchen, but that Phil wasn’t there.

Then he had a definite sense that he had interrupted something.

After all, the knockout blonde looked ready to murder the guy in the suit who was glaring right back at her. Neither even twitched when Nick entered the office and the air was snapping.

The blonde was turned out to perfection, all sleek curves, a suit that screamed of New York and jewelry that could blind a man when it caught the sun. The guy looked to be her parallel, his suit impeccably tailored and his shoes polished to a shine. His watch was enormous, an over-engineered piece of machinery that its bearer probably only used to check the time.

Despite sharing expensive taste, these two clearly weren’t getting along.

“I was looking for Phil Coxwell,” he said, using his best smile to no discernible effect. “But maybe this isn’t a good time.”

The man spared him a disdainful survey. Nick held his ground and stared back, not needing French cuffs to have any confidence in himself.

“I would suggest you call later.” The other man’s gaze lingered on Nick’s dusty jeans. He didn’t think this was one of Phil’s brothers, but he could be wrong. “Philippa and I have a lunch appointment, so she will not have time for you before our return.”

“Maybe we should ask Philippa what she thinks about
that
.” There was just enough edge in the blonde’s voice to make the other guy look her way, but she smiled so graciously that he couldn’t possibly have responded in kind.

Nick immediately liked her.

“Elaine Pope,” she said, her smile warming as she offered her hand. “Philippa and I are partners.”

“A most unfortunate circumstance for Philippa.” The guy snorted. “No wonder her family wants her to give up this excuse for a business.”

Right. Phil had hinted that her family weren’t proud of her accomplishments and this one’s choice of words supplied the fact that he was not blood related..

Was Phil dating this jerk? The thought made his stomach churn with more than hunger.

Elaine bristled, her eyes snapping fire as she turned. “Really?” she inquired sweetly. “Why would it be sensible to abandon a profitable business? Surely any parent would want their child to succeed?”

“Surely any parent would want to ensure that their child consorted with the right
class
of people?”

“You are such a pig!” Elaine stepped forward as though she might deck him and Nick couldn’t blame her.

All the same, bloodshed was better avoided. He shot Elaine a warning glance and stepped closer, letting just enough skepticism filter into his tone. “And that would be where you come in, right?”

The other man’s lips thinned. “I hardly see how my role is of any pertinence to you.”

“But you have no problem making Phil’s decisions for her without knowing her opinion or what the circumstances of this business are.”

Elaine eased closer to Nick, their alliance negotiated, signed and set in stone.

“I understand and appreciate what her family wants for her.”

“But what about what Phil wants?” He deliberately kept his tone mild, since his opponent was itching for a fight. “Doesn’t that count for anything?”

The other man almost smiled. “Some people cannot be trusted to make responsible decisions for themselves.” He coughed lightly. “It is clear from Philippa’s family’s confidences that she is one of those unfortunates.”

Elaine made a choking noise, but Nick laid a hand on her arm. “Who
are
you?” he asked, incredulous that anyone could be so pompous.

“And who died and made you God?” Elaine demanded.

The man in question smiled coldly. “I am Jeffrey McAllister, the new legal partner of Robert Coxwell. Anyone of any merit—” his look excluded Nick and Elaine from such company “—knows that Judge Coxwell is the most esteemed legal mind in the greater Boston area. Philippa and I have a lunch engagement.”

It was interesting that Phil’s credentials were solely her father’s credentials.

McAllister sniffed once more, his nose wrinkling as he looked over Nick. “Though I can hardly imagine that an explanation is owed to the
help
.”

It was too good of an opening to ignore.

“Me?” Nick shook his head as though the idea was ludicrous. “I don’t work here.” He folded his arms across his chest. “I’m Nick.”

He didn’t explain further, as though his first name was ample explanation in itself. Truth be told, he was enjoying the sight of McAllister trying to work out the possibilities. Those lips unpursed enough to round in dismay.

“Surely, you cannot be a
customer
!”

“No, not me.” He flicked a glance over suit, shoes and watch, then let his smile turn predatory. “I just stop by for
Phil
.” Nick waited for the other man to blink quickly, a number of times in quick succession.

He had always known that the Coxwells were uptight, but if this guy was any example of what Phil put up with from them, she had his heartfelt sympathies.

“What can I say—Phil and I are close,
really
close.” Nick shot a look at the avid McAllister, then picked up a china catalog as though he hadn’t a care in the world. “Nice plates,” he said to Elaine, clearly settling in to wait and looking as though he did so all the time.

Her smile flashed, approval of more than his taste in china in her eyes. “You have good taste.”

“Um hmm. Can you put it in the dishwasher?”

The other man made an exasperated noise but they both ignored him. Elaine perched on the desk beside him. “Oh yeah, it’s great stuff. Very practical.” She flipped through the pages. “This looks more like you.”

“Nice.” As though he knew anything about china...or cared. “What if I drop it?”

“Well, it’s porcelain, so it’s tougher than china.”

McAllister cleared his throat, unused to being forgotten, but Elaine turned her back on him. It was no accident to Nick’s thinking.