Perfect Partners?. C.J. Carmichael

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СКАЧАТЬ all means, take your time,” she muttered as she stubbed her toe on a cardboard box sitting on the floor by the empty chair meant for clients. A tan-colored leather briefcase was on the floor beside it.

      “Okay. That’s interesting. I’ll follow up right away,” Nathan promised the person on the other end of the line. Then he hung up.

      He was wearing a white shirt today, emphasizing the golden tone of his skin, the rich mocha of his eyes. When he stood to greet her, the solid bulk of his thighs was clearly visible beneath the dark denim of his jeans.

      “Hey, partner,” he said. “I wondered when you were going to come and welcome me.”

      “Welcome you? Have you lost your mind?”

      “I’m here for that one-month probation thing we talked about at the bar last week. If things go well—and I’m sure they will—when the month is over you’ll let me buy into the business as a full-fledged partner.”

      “I remember talking about a one-month probation. But you know darned well we came to no agreement.”

      He shrugged. “Look, if it doesn’t work we go our separate ways. Nothing lost on either side.” He gave her a moment to digest that, then added, “You’d better grab some paper and a pen. We have a meeting with Celia Burchard in about five minutes.”

      CHAPTER THREE

      LINDSAY STARED AT NATHAN good and hard, but he just smiled with the confidence of someone who knew they were holding a winning hand. She couldn’t deny that she was happy to see him here. She didn’t want to turn down another case like the one her sister had just offered her. Nathan was the best—if not the only—solution to her problem.

      “This is pretty audacious,” she finally allowed. “Bordering on insane. But okay. You have a deal.”

      She held out a hand and they shook on it. The second his skin touched hers, though, she was reminded of the one reason this might not be a good idea after all.

      Well, it was too late for a change of heart. Nadine was at the door, introducing the new client.

      Celia Burchard was an exceptionally pretty woman, in her midtwenties, dressed as if she’d just stepped off a beach in sundress and flip-flops, with only a cotton sweater to protect her from the October weather. Glossy hair spilled like honey over shoulders still tanned from the summer.

      “Nathan, thank you for agreeing to help me.” Her gaze slid to Lindsay. “I’m sorry, you’re busy. Do you want me to wait out in the hall?”

      “This is Lindsay Fox. She’ll be working on your case, too. Come in.” Nathan moved from behind his desk to give the woman a hug.

      Immediately Lindsay could tell these two had a history. It wasn’t just the hug. It was the way they looked at one another. She made a note to ask Nathan about it later. For now, she put on a professional smile of welcome.

      Celia still hung back by the door. “I have to admit I’m a little nervous.”

      “Understandable,” Nathan said. “You’ve been through a lot lately. Why don’t we move to the conference room. You’ll be more comfortable there.”

      Lindsay didn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused. He was acting as if he’d worked here for weeks, or months.

      Did he even know where the conference room was?

      She waited for him to hesitate or shoot her a questioning look, but instead he headed confidently to the hall on the other side of Nadine’s desk and opened the door to the left.

      “Would you please bring in coffee, Nadine?” he asked, before ushering Celia inside.

      Lindsay thought her receptionist might be put out at this request from someone who hadn’t even been added to the payroll, yet, but she seemed only too pleased to spring to her feet and oblige. A minute later, Nadine returned with a tray of coffees and water.

      She glanced around the room, and noticing the sun streaming in from the window at an uncomfortable angle, she went to adjust the blind. When Lindsay went over to help, Nadine murmured, “I’m glad you changed your mind about Nathan.”

      “I’m not sure I had a choice.” Lindsay gave the cord such a hard tug that the blinds crashed down to the sill. Nathan and Celia turned, startled.

      “Sorry about that.” Nadine left the room, and Lindsay took a seat across from Nathan and Celia, who had selected chairs next to one another.

      What a cute couple they made. But if they were indeed dating, she was going to kill Nathan for not coming clean about the relationship from the beginning.

      Celia glanced around, taking in the ultramodern table and steel chairs, then focusing on the black-framed photographs hanging on the steel-colored walls.

      She squinted at the artwork. “Are those close-ups of paper clips?”

      “Yes,” Lindsay said, admiring them anew.

      “Interesting. If you ever decide to go with a warmer look you should visit my mother’s art gallery. I’d be happy to make some suggestions.”

      Ouch. Lindsay wasn’t sure what hurt more. Celia’s critique of her artistic taste, or Nathan’s amused smile. She supposed she should be glad Nadine, at least, had left the room and wasn’t here to add her own indictment.

      “Should we start?” She glanced at Nathan, who nodded.

      “Celia, why don’t you summarize the situation so we can bring Lindsay up to speed?”

      “It’s all such a horrible mess, I hardly know where to begin.”

      Lindsay tapped her pen impatiently on her notebook. “Why don’t you start with the day your mother shot your father in the butt, and we’ll go from there.”

      Celia’s eyes widened at her blunt tone. “It’s not that easy, okay? You have no idea how awful it is to see my own parents on the cover of newspapers and trashy magazines. To have the world talking about my personal family business.”

      “I do sympathize.” Far more than Celia could ever guess. “But unfortunately we have no control over the media, if that’s what you’re after.”

      “I don’t expect you to stop them. I just want the truth. The police seem happy to take Dad’s story at face value. They hardly investigated at all. And Mom’s preliminary hearing was a joke. It’s so unfair. I don’t understand how Dad can let them put her through this.”

      “He was shot, right? Presumably that was upsetting.”

      “The bullet only grazed his rear end. He’s fine. He should have told the police it was an accident.”

      “Was it?”

      “It must have been.”

      “But your dad says it wasn’t. And your mom?”

      “She can’t remember.”

      How convenient, СКАЧАТЬ