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“Very flattered. Most of the credit goes to Jessica.” Tim caught her hand and squeezed it.
“Don’t be so humble,” she quipped with a charming smile. “You didn’t miss a question, and they loved chatting with you.”
The CEO rubbed his hands together. “You make a great team. Listen, I’m gathering the most prominent clients at my house next Saturday. Joe Stuart, Kevin Boggar, and Jack Carrington need good lawyersasap. Russell Malcolm is coming, too. For him, it’s a social call, testing the waters as they say. I’m counting on you, guys. Drinks at six, followed by a business dinner.” His invitation sounded more like an order.
“We’ll be there. Thank you, George.” Count on Jessica not to miss an opportunity to promote her career.
Repressing the urge to glare at Jessica and curse, Tim nodded. “Thank you, George.”
Another command performance for next weekend would clash with his plans. He’d been hoping to relax and play with all ofhiskids.
“That went far better than expected for a business evening,” Jessica commented in the car. “I noticed you weren’t thrilled with the new invitation, but we didn’t have a choice, right? Business should always come first.”
Business used to come first when he’d been married. By working harder, he’d put his family first and had provided more income to make his wife and daughter more comfortable. Now his priorities were muddled. Not only had he lost his wife, but also he’d stopped believing in love and marriage. His successful career hadn’t brought him a sliver of happiness.
During the drive to her building, Jessica hadn’t interrupted his glooming musing. When he slowed in front of the door, she suggested. “Would you walk me to my condo, Tim?”
“Sure,” he answered politely.
He parked his car in one of the guests’ reserved spots and opened the door for his companion, holding her elbow.
When she entered her condo, she turned to him, her smile vanishing. “I know you didn’t enjoy the evening, but you put on a good face and performed brilliantly under the circumstances. You deserve to relax. Can I offer you a drink? Actually, the bar is there.”
She pointed to a mirrored credenza in her dining room which opened into a modern kitchen. “Choose what you want. Can you prepare a Kahlua Mudslide? I have Kahlua, vodka, and Irish Cream in there, and vanilla ice cream in the freezer. Just mix them.”
Hmm, she wanted him to stay. Was he ready? Not at all.
“Your daughter is spending the night at her friend’s,” she continued, ignoring his silence. “No need to go home and toss in an empty bed.”
“Jessica,” he warned. “Stop there.”
“Sorry. Wrong words. Listen, Tim. I went through a painful experience in the past. Coping alone is the worst thing. I offer you a chance to unwind. Nothing better than a cold drink and a good chat.” She tilted her head, smiling with compassion and understanding.
Tossing in an empty bed was the last thing he wanted to do. He would probably get drunk and break a frame or two with pictures of his unfaithful wife.
“Where are the glasses?”
“Much better.” She released a sigh and handed him two glasses, a shaker, a small crystal bucket with ice cubes and a container of vanilla ice cream.
While he prepared the drinks, she flopped on the white leather sofa, kicked off her high-heeled shoes, and crossed her legs, revealing an inviting expanse of satiny skin through her dress’s slit.
“Thank you for your company, Jessica. You managed to make it a fun, productive evening.” He raised his glass, clinked it against hers, and guzzled a mouthful.
Unperturbed by his superficial compliment, she shrugged. “Don’t be so formal, Tim. Chill out. Take off your jacket and bowtie.”
“Good idea.” He slipped off the two pieces, unbuttoned the top of his shirt, and rolled up his sleeves above his wrists.
“You went through an ordeal that’s difficult to handle.” Her eyes roamed over his face and chest, assessing his feelings, and then met his gaze. “I’m ready to help, if you’re willing to accept a helping hand.”
“I don’t think you can help, Jessica.” He swallowed the rest of his drink.
That stuff was delicious and damn strong, good enough to numb one’s brain. He stood and poured himself a second, preferring to drink rather than talk.
“Listen, my dress may be elegant but too uncomfortable after several hours. D’you mind if I leave you for a few minutes and change?”
“Make yourself at home.” He chuckled at his silly joke.
She finished her drink and padded to a dark corridor. If she wanted to chat, he would indulge her and listen to the story of her life. He was good at blocking questions and interviewing people.
