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I take a deep breath and throw caution to the wind.Yes.
Then I read his messages again, and realization slaps me. Theo Keppel. Shane Gaffney. The names are familiar. When Reed sued me, Catherine Anber from the boutique law firm of Gaffney, Anber, & Keppel represented me. A quick Internet search confirms my suspicions. Theo Keppel is a partner in the same firm as is Shane Gaffney. Keppel is British and heads up the London office. Gaffney is Irish and in charge of the Dublin office.
These men aren’t strangers. They’re my lawyers.
2
THEO
I’m nervous.
I don’t get nervous very often. Rarely, in fact. But as I wait for Adelaide Byard in Xavier Leforte’s office in the castle that houses Club M, I’m decidedly on edge.
Shane glances over with a frown. “You’re jumpy today.” He’s sprawled on the couch, his legs stretched out, a glass of whiskey in his hands. “What’s the worst that can happen?” He lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “She says no, and we find somebody else to play with. Life goes on.”
“You’ve barely taken a sip of your drink,” I point out. Shane poured the drink when he walked in, but it’s remained untouched. My partner’s flight from Dublin was delayed six hours. It’s nine in the evening, two a.m. Dublin time. If anyone needs a drink, it’s him. The fact that he’s abstained makes a lie out of his words. If Shane truly didn’t care how this meeting went, he’d have been on his second whiskey by now.
He gives me a wry smile. “Perceptive of you.”
Any minute now, Adelaide Byard will walk into the room. I don’t understand the intensity of my need. I’ve only seen her once. Right here, in the club. She’d been wearing an emerald-green dress. Diamonds glittered on her ears, her throat, and her small wrists, and I remember thinking they didn’t suit her. Diamonds are hard and sharp, and Adelaide issofter.She is a pearl.
To give myself something to do, I look outside the window. It snowed last night. Not a lot, just enough to dust the lawn. The driveway is illuminated, and the snow seems to glitter. There’s a sense of possibility in the air.
If she says yes.
Someone knocks. Xavier Leforte enters the room with Adelaide Byard at his heels. Shane gets to his feet.
“Addie, I want you to meet Theo Keppel and Shane Gaffney.”
She's wearing a long black skirt and a jade green sweater. Her hair is pulled back in a knot. No jewelry, I notice. Not even earrings.
“Nice to meet you,” she says. She has a nice voice. It's not high-pitched, but also not husky. Neither too loud nor too soft. It's just right.
And I’m being ridiculous.
“There are no cameras in my office,” Xavier says. “Do you want me to stay or go?”
I give him an irritated glance. Is he suggesting we’re going to maul this woman? Seriously? Shane is just as offended as I am. “Cameras or not, I think you can trust us to behave ourselves,” he says caustically.
A smile dances over Adelaide’s lips for a second. It disappears quickly, but her eyes stay amused. “Maybe Xavier isn’t worried about you behaving yourselves,” she suggests lightly. “Maybe he’s worried I’ll jump you.” She turns to Leforte. “I’ll be okay alone.”
Xavier leaves the room. The moment the door shuts behind him, Adelaide looks at us, her gaze direct. “You’re not strangers,” she says. “You are my lawyers. Did you think I wouldn’t realize that?” Her voice turns hard. “What’s this about? What do you really want from me?”
3
THEO
“No.” My mouth forms the word before my brain kicks into gear. She thinks we have an ulterior motive? “Shane and I have never been your lawyers. You’re Catherine’s client, not ours.”
“The boutique firm of Gaffney, Anber, & Keppel represented me,” she replies, her jaw tight. “It has three partners.” She pauses for a breath. “I’m looking at two of them.”
She’s about to walk away, and I don’t want her to. “Let me explain.Please.The one thing Catherine, Shane, and I have in common is that we’re stubbornly independent. I practice in the UK, and Shane heads up the Dublin office. Catherine is in charge of the New York office. She decides who to represent. She doesn’t talk to us about her cases. I knew you were her client, but that’s the extent of my involvement in the matter.”
“Am I supposed to believe you want to sleep with me, and it has nothing to do with who I am?”
Shane stalks over to the couch and sits down, his expression closed off. “Let’s establish some facts,” he says, his voice clipped. “You are a very wealthy woman. You can buy and sell us several times over.”
Adelaide looks at him for a long minute and then perches on the edge of an overstuffed armchair, her arms folded across her chest. She’s closed off in a way she wasn’t before. I can’t say I blame her. The world taught her to be guarded. Everything about her now is controlled. Even her hair is pulled into a ruthlessly tight bun.
