Page 18 of Lawyer

“Well, first of all, the house next door to me isn’t for sale, and second, it’s not a castle,” I tell her. “I’ve got a place in Hidden Hills.”

“Of course, you do,” she says.

“It belonged to my family,” I tell her. “I’ve been thinking about selling it.”

“Why?”

I shrug. “It’s too big for just one person.”

“And here I figured you had wild parties with celebrities and lingerie models every night of the week,” she says.

Her laugh is as wan her smile and I can’t help but hear a strange note in her voice. It’s almost like she’s afraid that what she’d just said was the truth and is hoping it’s not.

“Then you don’t know me very well.”

“That’s true. I don’t,” she replies pointedly but still sounds somewhat relieved.

We make small talk for the remainder of the forty minute drive down to Laguna Beach, never approaching anything too deep but still getting to know a bit about each other. She tells me all about the tragedies that put her on this current path and the difficulties she’s had keeping her brother in school and far away from a life that would have ended badly had he stayed here in LA. Without parents or any money really, Aria has been afraid he’d gravitate naturally to the life of gangs and crime. It’s why she started working for Lucas to begin with.

I pull to a stop at the valet station of a hotel I know pretty well called The Byron. I’ve met clients for dinner and drinks in the lounge here before, but there is a rooftop restaurant that’s got a romantic atmosphere that’s perfect. I hand off my keys to the valet then come around the car and open the door for Aria. I can’t help but stare admiringly as she slips out of the passenger seat and takes my arm. She gives me a shy smile and lowers her gaze as we walk up the red and gold carpeting to the front doors.

The doors are glass and etched with the hotel’s name and logo, and the fixtures are all made of polished brass. The doorman pulls the door open for us and I catch him looking Aria up and down with the same look of lust and admiration I’m sure is thick in my own gaze. He sees me looking at him and quickly turns away, clearing his throat and stands ramrod straight as his face reddens. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing out loud.

Aria’s body is tense, and her face is tight as we walk across the lobby of the hotel. Just like last time, she’s apprehensive about me taking her to a hotel but she doesn’t say anything about it. I suppose that means she’s giving me the benefit of the doubt this time. I lead her to the bank of elevators and a man in a blue uniform is standing in the open doorway of a car and gestures for us to step in. I follow Aria in and stand beside her as the man steps back in and turns to us.

“Welcome to The Byron,” he says. “And what floor are we taking you to this evening?”

“Please take us up to The Breakers,” I say.

“Very good, sir.”

The doors slide shut and he pushes the button to take us up to the rooftop restaurant. Aria looks at me curiously, seemingly unsure of where we’re going. But she’s putting her trust in me. The elevator slows then comes to a stop and the doors slide open once more, revealing the restaurant beyond. I tip the car man then lay my hand gently on the small of Aria’s back and lead her out of the car and into the cool evening air.

We step to the stainless steel and smoked glass podium that bears the logo and name of the restaurant. A woman not much older than Aria with dark hair and eyes gives us a wide smile.

“Welcome to The Breakers,” she says. “The name on the reservation?”

“Gable,” I tell her. “Silas Gable.”

Her eyes linger on mine a little longer than they should, and a flirty smile curls the corners of her mouth upward. The hostess consults her tablet and taps the screen then sets it down on the lectern.

“Very good, Mr. Gable. If you both will follow me to your table?”

Aria is walking stiffly, and her muscles are tense. She’s looking all around us and I can see by the look on her face that she’s feeling awkward and out of place. The Breakers is a nice place. The roof of The Byron has wooden trellis fencing on three sides that are covered with ivy and soft, glowing lights. The fourth side of the roof is open and looks out over the Pacific. There are only a few dozen tables up here and it’s filled to capacity. It’s one of the hottest tickets in town and reservations are hard to come by. Unless you’re connected anyway.

The hostess sees us to our table, and I hold Aria’s chair out for her. She gives me a shy smile, unable to hold my gaze for long, and takes her seat. I drop down into the chair across from her and the hostess sets our menus down in front of us. The hostess’ eyes are locked onto mine and she’s wearing that same flirty smile as she traces the back of my hand with her fingertips.

“Enjoy your meal tonight, folks. And if there is anything I can do for you, anything at all, just let me know,” she says then departs.

“Well, that was subtle,” Aria says, sounding offended.

She laughs, acting as if she’s amused but the expression on Aria’s face tells me she’s not. I chuckle softly to myself, trying to play it off. She leans forward though, the expression on her face caught somewhere between a smile and a snarl.

“That hostess was totally throwing herself at you. I imagine it happens pretty often and you’re used to it, huh?” Aria says.

She’s testing me. She wants to see if I’m the sort of man who will take advantage of every woman who throws herself my way.

“I honestly hadn’t noticed,” I say.

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