Nine

“I should have just done what you did and given up on marriage altogether,” Gwen said as she stretched out on the chaise in Bridgett’s living room. “I could use a cozy little condo like this to lounge around in and sip wine all day.”

Bridgett bit back the ugly retort that bubbled up on her lips, cutting her sister some slack for being bitchy. Gwen did have an excuse. This time.

The town car had dropped Bridgett off at her condo an hour ago, long enough for her to shower and change into her business-casual work clothes of wool slacks and a cashmere sweater from Talbots. Gwen had descended on her doorstep just as the teakettle began whistling.

“Unfortunately this ‘cozy little condo’ costs a fortune and I have to work long hours to maintain it. I don’t get much time to ‘lounge around and sip wine.’”

“Are you saying I’m afraid of a little work?” Gwen’s eyes grew damp and her lip began to tremble.

Apparently, everything Bridgett said was going to be taken out of context this morning. She took another sip of tea and reached for a tissue for her sister. “Will you stop putting words in my mouth, Gwen? You know that’s not what I meant. Just keep in mind that the grass isn’t always greener.”

Gwen went into mother bear mode at Bridgett’s words. “Oh, honey. Do you want to talk about it?” She jumped off the chaise and stood beside the bar stool Bridgett was perched on, wrapping an arm over her shoulders. While distracting Gwen might be the only way to survive the morning, Bridgett knew better than to let her sister in on her secrets.

“I’ve just had a stressful week, that’s all.”

“I can imagine. Being stranded in a tropical storm with that hunky Jay McManus had to be traumatic.”

Bridgett’s head whipped around toward her sister. “How did you know who I was with?”

“That nice lawyer, Adam, mentioned it when he came by with the separation papers this morning.”

Lovely. The way her life was going, both the Boston office and the Baltimore staff were gossiping about her trip.

“Don’t worry.” Gwen gave her shoulder a pat. “I didn’t tell him that you don’t like men.”

“Arghh!” Bridgett shrugged off her sister’s arm and trudged over to the sink to rinse out her teacup. Clearly her sister was manic. Because there was no doubt that Bridgett did like men. Especially one man in particular. Grateful that her back was to Gwen, she fanned her flushed face with a dish towel. This morning’s little tryst at thirty thousand feet had been amazing. The connection that sizzled between their bodies was stronger than ever. She’d been with men since Jay. But none had ever brought her body to such an intense climax as the Antichrist. Damn him.

“We’re not done, Bridgett. Not even close,” the arrogant bastard had the nerve to declare. “This is going to happen again. Count on it.” She desperately wanted to prove him wrong. Except her panties were already wet just thinking about it.

With a frustrated sigh, she tossed the dish towel onto the counter and turned to find her sister scrutinizing her carefully.

“Oh, Bridgett,” Gwen finally said. “Who did this to you? Who hurt you so badly that you don’t feel worthy of love anymore?”

Bridgett reached for the counter before she could lose her balance and collapse on the floor. Her breath was sawing in and out of her lungs at her sister’s startling questions. She tried to formulate a coherent response but words failed her.

Gwen walked over and cupped her hands on Bridgett’s face to steady her. “Oh, sweetie. Did you think I didn’t know?” She did that tsking thing that always annoyed Bridgett, but right now had her hypnotized. “You came back from your internship in Italy a different person. A woman jaded. With a lot harder shell. I know I say things to annoy you sometimes.” A squeak escaped Bridgett’s throat. “Okay, most of the time. But it’s only because I wanted you to open up. To tell me about your broken heart. You’re so self-sufficient sometimes it makes me so damn jealous.” Tears were streaming down Gwen’s face now. “Yes, I want what you have, Bridge. But not the things. I want the resolve that you possess. If I’d had one-tenth of it, I’d have left Skip years ago.” She gave Bridgett a little shake. “Please tell me I can do this? Please show me how to survive divorce, because I don’t think I’ll make it otherwise.”

Bridgett pulled her sister in for a tight hug. “Of course you’re going to survive,” she told Gwen. “You have two beautiful children and a family that loves you. Surviving is the only option. Putting the thumbscrews to Skip will be the icing on the cake.”

Gwen laughed through her tears. “There’s another thing I admire about you, little sister. You’re bloodthirsty.”

They spent the rest of the morning crafting the separation agreement that Adam would present to Skip later that evening, and then Bridgett accompanied Gwen to lunch with their parents, where they broke the news of the divorce. Neither parent was surprised, a fact that made Gwen cry yet again. Thankfully, their mother stepped in and took over hand-holding duties for the remainder of the day.

“What was Alesha Warren’s reaction when you spoke with her this morning?” Stuart asked later that afternoon. Bridgett was seated at her bistro table, basking in the sun streaming in the French doors as they discussed the case by phone.

“Pretty much as expected. She sounded resigned to the fact that she’d have to play her next hand. I’m starting to agree with the conspiracy theory that Donovan has going. It does look more and more like someone is putting her up to this.”

Stuart sighed. “Yeah. I think our client is holding something back here, too. This should be an open-and-shut class action case; one that languishes in the court for years and annoys the team because of the slight tarnish on their image and the never-ending court costs. But I get the feeling there’s something more going on here. There’s a reason she’s going after Jay personally. I just don’t know what it is.”

A trickle of unease ran up Bridgett’s spine. Jay had hinted that whoever’s behind this case may be serving a personal vendetta, but she’d hoped that he was just being cautious, if not a little paranoid. Except he’d warned her about their secrets getting out. Who had he angered with his secret files in the past? A Google search had revealed that Lloyd Davis had a lot of enemies. Could Jay have carried on the same business practices? Having Stuart raising suspicions made her nervous, because her boss was like a dog with a bone when he thought there was something out of order. She just didn’t want him digging so deeply that he unearthed her secret.

“Do we know if Donovan has located Jennifer Knowles yet?” Stuart asked.

“I assumed you’d hear from Jay when they’ve found her.”

Stuart laughed. “You’re forgetting, Buffy, that the man is very clear that you’re the lead attorney on this case. He doesn’t even take my phone calls half the time. Definitely follow up with him this afternoon. I’d also like for the two of you to meet with Mimi first thing tomorrow. Hopefully nothing will hit the fan—or the web—before then.”

“That might be difficult.”

“I thought his pilot was prepared to bring you back?”

“Yeah, me.” She glanced out the window at the sun reflected in the harbor. “Jay left for Napa after we landed here this morning. Something to do with his sister.”

“That or a little blackmail recon,” Stuart said. “The Blaze play San Francisco on Sunday. I imagine he’ll just stay out there. Which means we’ll have to take the mountain to Muhammad. Can you leave your sister in the capable hands of Adam and head west? I’ll send Mimi out, too, and the three of you can strategize.”

“But what about my other case?”

“Don’t worry about the chicken farmers. Dan can handle an easy tax case.”

“But, Stuart—”

“No buts, Buffy. Trust me, I know neither one of you is happy about how these cases were assigned, but this is what the client wants. And I want Jay McManus’s business.”

Bridgett debated telling her boss just exactly what Jay McManus wanted; it would definitely get her reassigned. But since she’d been more than a complicit partner earlier this morning, she kept her mouth shut. Besides, sticking close to Jay gave her some reassurance that he’d keep their secrets safe. She just needed to figure out how to keep from sticking too close to her client’s body.

•   •   •

Jay stood on the balcony off the master bedroom that overlooked his portion of Napa Valley. Bright red flowers bloomed in the boxes lining the iron railing, but as always, Jay’s eyes were drawn to the grapes; rows and rows of them in neat lines from the end of the circular driveway to the Napa River below. Behind the canopy of grapes were the foothills surrounding the valley. Above them, white fluffy clouds floated against the perfect blue sky.

Dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and bare feet, he breathed in the aroma of the ongoing harvest. Most of the chardonnay grapes had been picked and crushed in August, but workers were now busy harvesting the cabernet grapes as well as the pinot noir. The weather was mild and Jay relaxed as the breeze blew through his damp hair. Bridgett had been right last night: Wine was his passion. A case could be made that it was in his blood.

His father, Jack McManus, had been a vintner from New Zealand who’d come to the United States to study viticulture and bioengineering at Cornell. It was there that he’d met Jay’s mother, a bioengineering student herself. They’d married and continued on to pursue graduate degrees at U.C. Berkeley. Jay’s father had died of melanoma the day before his son’s third birthday. Two summers spent with his grandfather in New Zealand had solidified Jay’s passion for all things wine, from growing the grapes to bottling. Unfortunately, the elder John McManus had been a poor businessman. The vineyards were sold at auction upon his death to cover outstanding debts. Through no small feat of his own, Jay had carried on the family tradition. He hoped the two men would have been proud, but, truth be told, Jay had done it for himself. He’d never really known his father or his grandfather that well. Jay’s dream was to have something concrete to pass down to his own child someday.

A flash of pink caught his eye, and Jay watched as Charlie spread a towel over one of the lounge chairs beside the pool before pulling off her wrap and laying her bikini-clad body in the sun. She’d been avoiding him since he’d arrived a few hours earlier, but Jay had been only too happy to give his sister her space. He needed time to regroup after the past thirty-six hours and his mad scramble to locate her after she left Baltimore with no word. This was the second time in a week that she’d holed up in one of Jay’s homes as opposed to the seven left to her by her late father. Even more telling, she’d come to California alone.

Deciding he’d put their confrontation off long enough, he made his way downstairs and toward the pool area. The pool was built to look like a tropical lagoon with rocks lining one end of the sea-green water, while a wood pergola hung over its other end. Tall Italian cypress trees shielded the spot from the eyes of the many workers gathering the grapes a few hundred yards away. Grabbing some necessary armor—in the form of a cold beer from the poolside kitchen—Jay stretched out on the lounge chair next to Charlie. Closing his eyes against the afternoon sun, he took a long sip from his beer.

“No wonder you have that awful farmer’s tan,” his sister said. “Ever think of putting on a bathing suit?”

“You would be the expert in tan lines. According to the tabloids, you’ve been skinny-dipping in Thailand.”

“Don’t believe everything you read.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you communicated with me.”

“I’m communicating with you now.”

Jay took another fortifying swig of his beer. Charlie was baiting him, angling for a fight, probably thinking it was her best defense to get him to leave her alone. She was wrong.

“What are you doing here, Charlie?”

“What are you doing here, Jay?”

Jay swore ruthlessly under his breath. “Charlotte Elizabeth, answer the damn question!”

She flinched beside him. “I’m growing my baby. I’d hoped to do it in private, but since you arrived with your entourage, it seems that won’t be the case.”

He blew out a frustrated sigh. “If you wanted to be alone, you would have picked one of your own houses. You knew the Blaze are playing here this weekend. I’ve invited a houseful of people for Saturday night.”

“Who says I’m staying until Saturday?”

Jay risked a glance at her then. His sister’s face was drawn tight and her eyes were red rimmed and swollen. She looked nothing like a woman aglow with pregnancy. Clearly, she wasn’t handling her condition as well as he’d thought she was. Reaching a hand across to her, Jay took her fingers in his. “I had hoped you would stay. These parties are no fun.”

“So you want me to share in your torture?” A weak smile appeared on her face. “Why do you even play host if you enjoy them so little?”

“I have an image to maintain.”

They both chuckled but neither of them withdrew their hand. Instead, they sat there in companionable silence for a few moments before Linc ambled out from Jay’s office.

“Did you have to bring your puppy dog?” Charlie asked, yanking her hand away.

Jay bit back a grin. There wasn’t a woman alive who Linc couldn’t charm, and Jay suspected his sister liked his affable young assistant more than she let on. Jay tucked that observation away in case he needed it in the future. “Kennels are so expensive these days.”

“He’s annoying,” she said loud enough for Linc to hear as he approached.

“Hmm. He says the same thing about you.”

Linc ignored Charlie’s barb, instead greeting her with his most mesmerizing smile, turning up the wattage until his sister was forced to look away. “I’ve arranged for a car to pick up Ms. Janik. They left Boston an hour ago, so she should be arriving here at the vineyard sometime after eight our time.”

“More people are coming tonight?” Charlie huffed beside him, sounding a lot like she had when she was eleven.

“Just my lawyer.”

“Why can’t she stay in town? Some of the state’s best B and Bs are there.”

“I know,” Jay said. “I’m putting the media specialist who’s also coming to this meeting up in one.”

“Jay,” Charlie cried. “I’m in a delicate state here. I’d really prefer not to have to interact with strangers.”

He ignored the tears. Years of her crying wolf had toughened him up to her antics. “Don’t worry. I’ll be the only one ‘interacting’ with her.” With any luck, most of their interaction tonight would be in the king-sized bed in his bedroom. But Jay wanted Bridgett to meet Charlie, too. Throughout that summer long ago, he’d often imagined what would happen when the two people he loved the most met. Too bad the years had erased the people that the three of them once were.

“Fine,” Charlie snapped. “But don’t expect me to be nice to her.”

Linc opened his mouth to add his two cents before wisely thinking better of it. “I have an update, also, when you get a chance,” he said instead.

Obviously, whatever it was, it was something Charlie didn’t need to hear. While he appreciated Lincoln’s circumspection, his jaw tightened in apprehension of what his assistant—and Donovan Carter—had uncovered. “I’ll be right in after I finish my beer.”

With a nod to Jay, Linc gave Charlie a salute and headed back into the house.

Charlie tsked. “You two are up to no good again. Let me guess: The feminists and the cheerleaders are ganging up on you and burning their bras and pom-poms at Sunday’s game?”

“Funny.” Jay guzzled the remainder of his beer. “Just boring business matters to take care of. We don’t want to put you to sleep.” He stood from the chair and turned to walk away.

“Jay,” she called. “I really don’t feel up to traveling right now, so I guess I’ll stay for your stupid party.”

Some of the tension he’d been holding in seeped out of his body. He smiled at her. “I’m glad.” He took a few more steps before turning back to her. “Listen, I have meetings in the morning, but maybe tomorrow we can head down to Stanford and have dinner with Mom?”

Charlie shot from the chair. “Hell, no! I told you I didn’t want Mom to know until I had a plan.”

“It’s just dinner, Charlie. Not true confessions. It’s not like anyone can tell you’re expecting.”

She glanced off into the setting sun and Jay swore at himself when he glimpsed tears in her eyes again. “It would be a lie of omission.”

“Every day you don’t tell her is a lie of omission.”

Her face was tormented when she finally looked at him. “You’re a prick, you know that?”

“I’ve been called worse.” He shrugged. “Suit yourself. I don’t even know if Mom is free tomorrow.” He marched toward his office, wondering why the hell he even dealt with his sister or his mother. Or women in general. But then his memory drifted back to the mind-numbing sex he’d had with Bridgett this morning and a slow grin spread over his face. Sex was the only form of communication he could handle with women. And tonight he and Bridgett would be conversing between the silk sheets upstairs.

Linc was on the phone when Jay strolled into the office. He signaled for Jay to close the door leading to the patio. “It’s Donovan. I’ll put him on speaker.”

“Please tell me you’ve found this cheerleader, Don,” Jay said as he sat down on the leather sofa across from his desk.

“I wish I could. I really do.” Don sounded as defeated as Jay felt. “I just keep coming up against dead ends everywhere I turn. Even her parents have disappeared. According to the church where her mother works, they’ve gone to Missouri to visit a sick relative.”

“She hasn’t been on social media since the case was filed a week ago,” Linc added.

“I take it you’re on your way to Missouri,” Jay asked.

Don growled something unintelligible.

“The team doesn’t travel out here until Friday night,” Jay said. “That gives you forty-eight hours to find this woman. I just want to know who’s behind this lawsuit. If it’s just her sister-in-law’s attempt to finance her own pocketbook, then we’ll deal with it in court. But if it’s something more, I want to be prepared. This ought to be a cakewalk for you, Don. After all, she’s not a hardened criminal.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Don sighed loudly. “Just don’t tell the guys over at NCIS that I’m chasing down cheerleaders, okay?”

Linc laughed. “Good thing your wife works for the team. At least she can’t take offense to the hunt for the Blaze cheerleader.”

Donovan was married to the team’s public relations director, Asia Dupree. “Actually, she may be of some assistance when I do find Jennifer Knowles. She’s more likely to open up to Asia than to me.”

“If you’re asking if your wife can join you on your road trip, that’s up to Hank,” Jay said. “But I’ll be sure to tell him your idea has a lot of merit.”

Linc disconnected and glanced past Jay’s shoulder out toward the pool area.

“Something on your mind, Linc?”

“Just that for a pregnant woman, your sister still looks hot.”

“I’ve been jonesing to punch someone for two days. One more word and it’ll guarantee that it’s you.”

“I just meant that if we’re trying to pin down a time frame for . . . you know . . . when she actually got pregnant, it had to be recent. She can still carry off a bikini without being obvious.”

Jay rose slowly from the sofa, but Linc held his ground. “Remember, that’s my baby sister you’re ogling, Linc. Even if it’s under the guise of detective work.”

“Sure, boss.” Linc reached for a folder on the desk. “By the way, according to the PI following her friend Blaine, he arrived in the area at about noon today. He’s staying with a group of friends over in St. Helena.”

Swearing beneath his breath, Jay took the folder. “Just as long as he stays away from my house.”

“That’s the case list you’ll need for your meeting with the media consultant tomorrow. I took the liberty of making them each their own copy. She’s set to arrive at ten. Is there anything else you need me to do to get ready for that meeting?”

Jay thumbed through the list of outrageous claims made by women once in his employ—some he’d met, a few he’d slept with, but most he’d never even laid eyes on, much less any other part of his body. But if his hunch was correct, there was one person manipulating those claims. And it was the same person likely behind Jennifer Knowles’s class action suit and her lawyer’s blackmail threats.

“Yeah.” Jay walked over to his desk, picked up a pen, and scratched a name on a piece of paper. “I want you to find this person for me.” He handed the paper to his assistant.

Linc eyed the piece of paper before looking up at Jay expectantly. “All I get is a name to go on?”

“Nope,” Jay said as he headed out to find his vineyard manager. “You’ll find a complete dossier in the file of former employees on the McManus hard drive.” He paused before heading toward the winery. “And, Linc, the sooner you can get me their whereabouts, the better.”