Sleeping With the Enemy (13 page)

“For your clarification, Mimi, there was no ‘tryst’ in a seedy motel,” Jay said, his tone even. “Miss Janik’s and my long-standing relationship isn’t germane to the case.”

Mimi flinched at the phrase
long-standing
. “It is now. The question is why and how did the blogger find out about it?”

Jay’s assistant spoke
up. “Alesha Warren had someone interview the motel’s desk clerk.”

“How do you know that?” Bridgett leaned forward in her chair to look past Jay at Linc.”

Linc glanced at Jay before answering. “Because
we
had someone interview the desk clerk after Alesha’s guy was there.”

Bridgett glanced between the two men in surprise.

“The spy games part doesn’t matter,” Mimi said. “I’m actually
surprised that she led with this when she alluded to having information about your sexual harassment exploits.”

Jay quickly cut her off. “I don’t practice sexual harassment and if you’ve read the case files we’ve provided you, you’ll see that none of those claims were ever substantiated.”

Mimi sighed as she flipped open a folder. “Mainly because you paid all these women off. It’s a smart
way to avoid the court system and a media feeding frenzy, but these things do have a way of cropping back up.” She sorted through the papers in front of her before lifting her gaze toward Bridgett. “Some of these cases look like lovers scorned, however. They should be easy to defend in the court of public opinion as long as no one else is going to come out of the woodwork.”

A silence settled
over the room as Mimi looked from Bridgett to Jay. She knew that Mimi was alluding to Bridgett, but Jay was likely thinking about whoever he thought had access to his most secret files. Bridgett tried not to squirm.

“Nothing else is going to ‘come out of the woodwork,’” Jay answered, his tone quiet but lethal. Bridgett hoped he was right, because if the sexual harassment cases had all been
settled out of court, Alesha had to have been made aware of them by someone. Bridgett worried her bottom lip as she prayed that whoever it was didn’t know all Jay’s secrets.

Mimi heaved another sigh. “Let’s hope not. For now, we’ll start a quiet little campaign to paint these previous cases for what they were—jilted lovers.”

Jay’s jaw grew taut but he remained silent, not bothering to
refute Mimi’s perception. Aggravated and annoyed, Bridgett did fidget in her chair this time. Jay shot her a quelling glance that only served to make her more frustrated.

“That way,” Mimi continued, “if and when the
Girlfriends’ Guide to the NFL
runs with the sexual harassment angle, we’ll already have a wave of media outlets who can contradict her.”

“Too bad she doesn’t have an even bigger
story to distract her,” Linc said.

Three heads turned to the end of the table to stare at Jay’s assistant.

“Be careful what you wish for,” Mimi said. “Whoever is behind that blog seems to have a personal vendetta against the team. Or, perhaps, just you, Mr. McManus. Regardless, Stuart wants me to stay close just in case. I’m assuming you’ll be remaining in California until after the game
on Sunday?”

Jay stood when Mimi did. “Yes, we’ll fly back Monday morning. I’m hosting a cocktail party here on Saturday night. Please join us. Linc will give you the details.” He nodded at his assistant, and Linc escorted Mimi from the room.

Dropping back down into his chair, Jay released a sigh.

“You agree with Mimi that this is something personal, don’t you?” she asked.

“Yeah,”
he said, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “According to Asia, the majority of the cheerleaders are happy to be on the Sparks squad. They’re paid well for what the job is and they all think they’re being treated fairly. They do it for fun. The players allegedly involved in the sexual intimidation are on the practice squad. Hank will cut them immediately if Jennifer Knowles’s claim can
be substantiated.”

“As your attorney, I have to advise you not to settle for Alesha Warren’s asking price. Let the case languish in the courts. It’ll drop to the bottom of the news cycle pretty quickly if Hank makes a statement that the players are gone and the behavior won’t be tolerated. It’ll take months to get the class notified, but we’ll have a better chance at dismissal if Jennifer
Knowles is the only plaintiff.”

“I don’t plan on giving anyone a dime, Bridgett. But I’m also not going to sit around and let someone use Alesha Warren to slander me. The person behind this isn’t going to stop until they reveal all my secrets. This is about payback.”

“You know who it is?” she gasped.

Jay’s tone was resolute. “I have my suspicions.”

“What are you going to do?”

When he didn’t answer, Bridgett leaned forward in her chair and whispered. “Jay, don’t do anything stupid. I don’t care if anyone finds out about the baby. That was years ago.”

His face was stoic as he glanced over his shoulder to the sound of a woman’s laughter in the hallway. Bridgett recognized it from the night before as Charlie’s. “That’s not the only baby I’m concerned about here,”
he said.

“Yes, of course,” Bridgett said around the lump that had formed in her throat. She stood, running her hands down her skirt to smooth out the wrinkles. “Just don’t do anything stupid. Our firm only handles civil cases. I’ll head back to Baltimore this afternoon. As much as Dan is probably enjoying interviewing the cheerleaders, I want to make sure we’ve got all our bases covered. Mimi
can handle whatever media issues arise from here.”

“Not so fast, counselor.” Jay reached out and wrapped his large fingers around her wrist, pulling her down into his lap.

“Jay!” she cried, frantically looking around to make sure they were alone.

He slid a hand beneath her skirt and cupped her bottom. “You’re not going anywhere, Bridgett.” She tried to resist him but he had the advantage
of surprise when his mouth took hers in a wildly possessive kiss. Bridgett loathed the way her body responded without a trace of resistance to his heavy-handedness. Breaking the kiss, she smacked his chest in frustration at herself as much as Jay.

“I swear I’m going to have to start wearing a flak jacket around you.” he murmured against her neck.

“I don’t want you kissing me.”

She
felt his smile against her skin. “I think you do want me kissing you and that’s what has you so mad. You like it too much.”

“I don’t,” she breathed as one of his fingers slid beneath the crotch of her panties. “Jay,” she gasped when his finger breached her entrance and her body squeezed around it.

“I have to go into the office and then I have a dinner
scheduled,” he said as he stroked
her. “Otherwise I’d take you upstairs and do this a lot more thoroughly.”

Bridgett tried to tell him to stop, that their behavior was unprofessional, but the words never made it past her lips. Instead her breaths became more staccato as Jay flicked in and out of her. Her body began to tighten around his finger just as his mouth covered hers, swallowing up her cry of pleasure.

The room
came into focus a moment later. Bridgett was still sprawled out in Jay’s lap but his hand was no longer beneath her skirt. He swore softly when she shifted. “Be still a minute,” he choked out.

“I can’t stay here,” she whispered.

His lips brushed her hairline. “Yes, you can. I’m the client. I call the shots and I say you stay here at the vineyard in case I need further legal advice. Or
bailing out of jail.”

Jay groaned when she jumped off his lap. “You are
not
going to do something stupid!”

She wasn’t sure if his grin was one of amusement or pain, but Jay slowly stood to face her. He reached out a hand to cup her face. “I’m not.”

“Promise me,” she demanded, surprising them both at the ferocity of her tone.

His face softened and he wrapped his fingers around the
back of her neck and pulled her body against his. “Promise me you’ll be here when I get home tonight, Bridgett. We can spend the day exploring the vineyard tomorrow. I’ll even let you bill me at your hourly rate.”

She smacked him on the chest again as laughter rumbled up beneath her hand. “I didn’t bring anything suitable for a cocktail party.”

“I’m way ahead of you. Charlie’s agreed to
take you shopping.”

Bridgett’s eyes snapped back up to his. “Your sister?”

“Hmm,” he said with grin. “And she’s even agreed to be nice.”

His lips brushed the tip of her nose and Bridgett sighed.
“Fine. But I’m only agreeing to the weekend, Jay. On Monday, we go back to the way things were.”

“Are you sure about that?”

No!
If he asked her to run away with him, she’d be sorely
tempted, just as his offer last night had tempted her. But she needed to listen to the levelheaded Bridgett, who’d been guiding her these past years. It was the only way she knew how to survive. “I’m sure.”

His mouth took on that self-satisfied grin again. “We’ll see.”

Everything Bridgett knew of the grown-up Charlie she’d gleaned from the tabloid headlines while standing in the grocery store checkout line. Still, that didn’t prepare her for the young woman who met her in the foyer of Jay’s home later that afternoon. For starters, his sister was very tall. She wore designer skinny jeans tucked into a pair of riding boots, the look making her
legs appear miles long. Her rich auburn hair was tied back in a ponytail and hidden beneath a Baltimore Blaze baseball cap. Charlie had wrapped a fluffy teal scarf around her neck, covering up most of her long-sleeved white shirt. Her only other accessories were three silver bangle bracelets on her wrist.

Bridgett felt positively fuddy-duddy standing next to Jay’s gorgeous young sister. She
tried not to cringe as Charlie eyed her from head to toe, taking in her outfit of gray slacks, a purple cardigan, and Anne Klein loafers. At least she’d donned her pearls.

Charlie shook her head as she pulled away from the banister she’d been leaning on and headed toward the door. “I’m not sure I know of any stores conservative enough for you,
but I’m always up for an adventure,” she said,
her long strides carrying her out the front door quickly, forcing Bridgett to have to trot to keep up.

“These are my traveling clothes,” Bridgett said, unsure why she felt the need to defend herself.

“Whatever.” Charlie punched the key fob unlocking the doors to a silver Range Rover parked out front. “The paparazzi won’t be expecting me at J.C. Penney, so there’s that.”

Bridgett climbed
into the passenger seat. “I Googled the names of a few boutiques in St. Helena. I’m perfectly happy to go on my own.” Getting to know Jay’s sister might not be as enjoyable of an afternoon as Bridgett once imagined.

Charlie laughed. “And have you pick out a dress my mother would wear? No way!” She turned the key and started the car. “I love my brother too much to allow that to happen.”

They made their way down the winding drive and Bridgett took the opportunity to sleuth a little about Jay and his sister’s relationship. “I take it you two are close?”

“Oh no, you don’t, lawyer lady.” Charlie maneuvered the car along the two-lane road leading to the center of Napa. “I don’t dish on my brother and he doesn’t dish on me.”

“Your life is pretty much an open book,” Bridgett
couldn’t resist saying.

Charlie shot her a grin as the Range Rover merged onto the highway, carrying them north toward St. Helena. “Well, Mrs. Cleaver has teeth.”

“Bridgett. My name is Bridgett.”

There was a pause before Charlie spoke. “That’s actually a very pretty name. It fits you. I’m Charlotte, but you already know that.”

“Not Charlie?”

Her tone was sharper than it had
been. “My brother is the only one who calls me that.”

They were both silent as Bridgett took in the beautiful countryside zooming past. Charlie groaned softly and began digging into the console between the seats, pulling out a package of crackers. “Would you mind,” she asked softly. “The alternative is that I barf all over.”

Bridgett tore open the package and handed her one. “Would you
rather I drive?”

“No, thanks. I get carsick sitting in the passenger seat or the back even when I’m not pregnant.” She glanced over at Bridgett while she crunched on the cracker. “Jay assured me that my pregnancy is covered under his attorney-client privilege. Is that true?”

Technically, no, since it wasn’t Jay who’d told her, but since Bridgett didn’t plan to reveal Jay’s sister’s condition
to anyone, it didn’t matter. “You’re covered.” Bridgett gave her a warm smile. “Do you need something to drink with those? I always found the old standbys of weak tea or ginger ale helped during those first weeks.”

Charlie’s head snapped around. “You have kids?”

Bridgett wasn’t sure how or why the words had slipped out. She was as surprised as Charlie by the admission. “No.” She shook
her head. “It . . . it didn’t work out.”

“I’m sorry.” Charlie refocused her eyes on the road.

“It was a long time ago,” Bridgett said, glancing back out at the vineyards, ending any further discussion of the subject.

They made the rest of the twenty-minute trip in companionable silence, each wrestling with her own secrets. The only sound in the car was the air whistling through the
moon roof as they drove through Oak Knoll, Yountville, and Rutherford. The traffic began to slow as they reached the picturesque downtown area of St. Helena, with its charming tree-lined streets and eclectic mix of twentieth-century architecture. Charlie parked the Range Rover on the street in front of the Woodhouse Chocolatier shop. “We may as well start with the fun part,” she said with a wide
smile.

They each picked out a bag of assorted candies, nibbling on them as they strolled along Main Street and window-shopped. “There are a few fun boutiques up the block here,” Charlie was saying, but Bridgett wasn’t listening. Her eyes had homed in on a pair of shoes displayed in a store window. The Kate Spade high heels were covered in pieces of crystal that glittered in the afternoon sun.
Bridgett looked at the sign above the door: “Foot Candy.” She handed her bag of
edible treats to Charlie. “Here,” she murmured as she pulled the door open. “I’ve found the candy I want.”

Charlie followed her in, chuckling as she did so. “Buying shoes
before
the dress. We just might get along after all, Bridgett.”

Two hours later, Bridgett had a pair of Kate Spade pumps, a matching purse,
and a royal blue Stella McCartney cocktail dress that would require wearing a backless bra and a very meager set of panties—all of which the salesclerk happily added to the shopping bag. Bridgett doubted Stuart would let her expense the entire ensemble—even if he wasn’t mad at her. But the afternoon of retail therapy had definitely lifted her spirits.

Charlie steered the Range Rover back out
onto Highway Twenty-nine headed south. “Well, that was more fun than I thought it would be. You’re hiding a bit of a wild streak under those conservative duds, lawyer lady.” She turned on the satellite radio and a song by Train was playing. “I’m beginning to see why my brother likes you.”

Bridgett went to open her mouth to say Jay was just her client, but she bit back the lie. Charlie laughed
out loud as though she could read Bridgett’s mind.

“Given the way you dress, I’m fairly certain you don’t share a bedroom with all your clients. And from what Josie says, he’s never brought a woman—other than Mom or me—to the vineyard before,” Charlie informed her.

Glancing out at the sun as it dropped lower over the foothills, Bridgett considered what Charlie was saying. There was no
denying Jay more than “liked” her body. But as far as anything more, she just wasn’t sure if she wanted that. He’d been very clear that any relationship they’d have would be physical and not emotional. She just wondered if such a scenario was even possible. They both were holding on to too much anger from that summer. Neither one trusted the other. Her common sense told her to stick to the plan of
staying the weekend, then run. Bridgett just hoped her body was able to listen to her common sense come Monday.

“Hey,” Charlie said, interrupting her thoughts. “If I hire
you as my lawyer, you’ll definitely have to uphold the whole attorney-client privilege thingy, right?”

“I told you your secret is safe with me.”

“I’m not talking about that secret—although you’d better keep that one
or that blogger will be the least of your worries.” She turned the volume on the radio down to make her point. “I mean an even bigger secret.”

Bridgett was beginning to feel very uncomfortable about their conversation. “I’m sure you have quite a team of lawyers representing your trust fund who get paid very well to keep your secrets.”

Charlie snorted. “Those old suits? What a bunch of
party poopers. I’ve been trying to establish a nonprofit for the past two years and all I get is gatekeeping. They make too much money off my father’s portfolio that they don’t want to part with any of it.”

“But you do?”

“Well, I don’t want to give it all away. That would be stupid. But it can do a lot of good out there in the world rather than in some hedge fund somewhere. I’ll certainly
never need it all.”

Bridgett was stunned by Charlie’s words. “Wow. That doesn’t sound very Princess Charlotte like.”

Charlie shrugged. “You of all people should know not to believe what you read in the tabloids. Or on the Internet.” She glanced over and winked at Bridgett. “Although in your case, it looks to be true.”

Blushing, Bridgett turned back to the window. “My firm doesn’t really
handle a lot of nonprofit setup, but I’m sure I can get you a few names of lawyers who’d be happy to help.” She knew all about these firms because once, when she was young and idealistic like Charlie, she’d wanted to pursue nonprofit work.

“But you can handle setting up a trust for my baby, can’t you? I don’t want my father’s lawyers involved in my child’s life. I need something written out
before my condition becomes public knowledge. I’m sure you can knock something out tonight while Jay is at dinner. I’ll pay you triple
your rate. Hell, I’ll take you on a shopping spree at Foot Candy.”

“I—”

“Please,” Charlie begged. “You already know about the baby, so it’s one less person I have to tell.”

Bridgett sighed. “Sure. We can draw up the paperwork when we get back.”

“Awesome! Now you get to find out who my baby’s father is.”

“There’s no need for me to know that.” Bridgett’s feeling of unease was growing by the minute. Her intuition was telling her that Charlie was putting her in the middle of something and if the plan was for Bridgett to distance herself from Jay after this weekend, knowing the identity of the baby’s father didn’t seem like such a good
idea.

“Of course it is. But you can’t tell anyone. Not even Jay.”

A tremor of unease trickled up Bridgett’s spine. “Why do I feel like this is some sort of test?”

Charlie grinned again. “Because it is. I need to know I can trust you. Jay doesn’t let many people in, but you’re here and that has to mean something. I don’t want to see him get hurt again.”

Bridgett swallowed hard around
the lump in her throat. “Again?”

“Yeah.” Charlie’s face was grim as she navigated the sharp turns on the road leading to the vineyard. “He got his heart broken pretty good years ago when he was in Italy. Some Italian princess or something. My father had just died and I needed Jay, but—but he was different after that summer. Guarded, like he was protecting his heart. He’s been that way ever
since.”

Tears burned Bridgett’s eyes and she hid them from Charlie by studying the scenery outside her window.
What happened in Italy had not been her fault.

“So if he’s thinking of opening up to you, I need to make sure you’re trustworthy.”

“You have it all wrong. We don’t have that kind of relationship.”
Once maybe, but not now.

“Says you. All the more reason for me to figure
out if you can be trusted with my brother’s heart.”

Bridgett wanted to scream. It wasn’t Jay’s heart that had ever been at issue. It was hers. Jay was the one who left her alone and pregnant without even a second thought. “I have no legal reason to need to know the identity of your baby’s father,” she managed to say through her tight throat.

“But you have every ethical reason to keep it
secret now that I’ve hired you.”

“Don’t you dare tell me,” Bridgett warned, all but plugging up her ears.

Charlie ignored her. “It’s patient number Z457.”

Anger rolled through Bridgett and it took a moment to absorb what Charlie had blurted out. “What?”

“Yep,” Charlie said smugly as the Range Rover passed through the grove of ancient olive trees. “My baby’s daddy is a sperm donor.”

“I don’t understand.” Except Bridgett was beginning to think she did.

Charlie pulled the car to a stop in front of the roaring fountain. “I Googled you this morning. You come from a big family. A close family. I want that. Now. Not later. I just told you that Jay has been emotionally distant for years. I have no idea if that will change. And my mother—” She shook her head briskly.

Princess Charlotte wasn’t exactly the spoiled little rich girl as much as she was the lonely little rich girl. Bridgett heaved another sigh. “Your child’s fortune will definitely need some legal protection if the father ever comes calling, then.”

“You see, I do need you, Bridgett. I was assured that the clinic was discreet and word wouldn’t get out, but nothing is bulletproof when it comes
to the paparazzi these days.”

“I’ll do my best to provide you both a shield of protection where I can,” Bridgett said solemnly. While she didn’t want to be involved with Jay’s family any more than necessary, she wouldn’t leave Charlie and her child unprotected. Clearly, Charlie had no intention of relying on her brother for that
protection. He’d be devastated to know his sister had put herself
at so much risk. Bridgett would just have to make sure the risk was minimal. “I’ll represent you on this.”

“Good,” Charlie said, her body rigid in the driver’s seat. “Because I may need you to defend me for murdering my brother.”

Bridgett glanced across the fountain at the foyer where an older woman waved at them. Dressed in a black knit dress and sensible shoes, her shoulder-length ash-blond
bob blew slightly in the evening breeze. “Who is she?” Bridgett asked.

“The mother I told my asshole brother I wanted to avoid.”

•   •   •

Jay leaned back against the high back of the leather chair in his office at McManus Industries. Housed in San Mateo, the northernmost part of Silicon Valley, the glass-enclosed building overlooked a man-made lake and a tree-lined jogging trail.
From his suite on the twenty-second floor, Jay had a great view of the Santa Cruz mountains.

He squeezed at the back of his neck. After four hours of meetings spent getting caught up on the day-to-day operations of his software company, he needed a drink. And a hot shower. Preferably a hot shower with a certain lawyer followed by a smooth glass of Scotch.