Kitabı oku: «Her Holiday Fling»

1

HAYLEY HANNA HAD two options—buy every copy of Los Angeles Woman magazine in the city or ignore the unflattering article within its pages. Maybe no one would mention the multipage spread that claimed she was a ruthless, man-hating divorce attorney.

As if that were a possibility.

She reached for the other six copies on the newsstand outside her office building then, placing them on the counter, she slid her teal, diamond-encrusted Tiffany & Co. sunglasses to the top of her head and rummaged in her Michael Kors bag for some cash.

“Thirty-two dollars, please,” the older gentleman behind the counter said.

Thirty-two dollars. Un-freaking-believable. For six copies of a magazine headed straight into the recycle bin under her desk.

“Have a great day,” he said.

Was he mocking her?

“I’m just hoping to get through it,” she muttered.

Her cell phone rang as she tucked the magazines under her arm, and she held her breath as she glanced at the caller ID. The Perfect Gown. Just Terri-Lynn, thank God. If her friend had read the article, she would give it to her straight. “How bad is it?” she said, answering on the third ring.

“A ruthless man hater? A shark in a Giorgio Armani suit?” Terri-Lynn shrieked into the phone.

Well, you couldn’t get any straighter than that. Maybe she shouldn’t have told everyone about the article. At least not until she’d had a chance to read it herself. “I just saw it,” she said.

“Who does this...Annette Miller think she is? She can’t write this about you. I thought this article was supposed to honor successful women in business?”

Hayley readjusted the slipping magazines as she entered her office building. “Apparently they were going for an accurate portrayal, not a sugarcoated version.”

“Well, I hope you’re going to call the magazine and complain.”

Her friend should know it didn’t exactly work that way. Owner of a high-fashion bridal gown store, Terri-Lynn had to deal with reviews on a regular basis. Once things were printed, they couldn’t be changed—for better or for worse. “I don’t think that’s going to fix things—the magazine is already out. Besides, this may be my fault.”

“How? Did you tell the interviewer that you eat men for breakfast and cut their balls off for sport?”

She may as well have.

When the prestigious women’s magazine had asked her to be a part of their Women On Top series, she’d been flattered. Their interest had been the ego boost she’d needed after her breakup with James, a dentist she’d been dating since moving home from New York City. After only ten months, James had proposed and she’d ended the relationship.

Unfortunately, in her hurt and disappointment with James for having ruined a good thing with his untimely proposal, she’d been a little too eager to answer Annette Miller’s questions about love, marriage and divorce—without a filter.

Entering the elevator and hitting the button, she said, “I didn’t exactly hold back on my views of men and marriage...” And all that crap.

“Okay, maybe you said some of this stuff, but there’s no way you said...” She heard her friend flip the pages of the magazine and bit her lip while she waited. “Ah, here it is. ‘Men are easily replaced—hell, save yourself the headache and buy one half your age with your divorce settlement.’”

Had it been those exact words?

“Hayley! Tell me you did not say that.”

The elevator doors opened and she stepped out. “I may have said something to that effect, but I’m pretty sure it was ‘off the record.’”

“Nothing is ever ‘off the record.’ Didn’t you read the release form for the interview?”

“Look, I wasn’t exactly in a great place. James and I had just broken up and I was still getting over it.”

“You broke it off with him.”

Hayley lowered her voice. “Only because he proposed.” Hayley Hanna Healey? Seriously? Not in a million. Hayley Hanna, period. Always.

“That’s right—he was such a terrible man wanting to marry you and all.”

Her friend didn’t get it. “He knew how I felt about marriage. I was very clear about my feelings going into the relationship.” She took comfort knowing she was always honest right from the beginning. “Anyway, can we get back to this latest disaster? What am I going to do about this article?”

“Unfortunately, it sounds like the only thing you can do is relax and wait for it to blow over,” Terri-Lynn said.

“I think you’re right. And I mean, who really reads these articles anyway? I’m at the office. I’ll call you later, okay?” Hayley tossed her phone into her purse and straightened her suit jacket as she entered the offices of Marshall and Thompson Family Law. She pushed her anxiety over the article aside. A silly feature in a local magazine, that was all it was. She doubted a copy would even find its way into the mostly male law firm, except of course for the ones under her arm that were headed directly to the shredding machine used for confidential documents.

As she passed the main reception, she spotted the cover on the secretary’s desk.

Shit. Okay, don’t panic yet. It was just a single copy. She’d ask to see it and add it to the others heading for destruction. “Hi, Megan. Beautiful morning.”

The young paralegal secretary held up the magazine. “Obviously you haven’t read this.”

Lie or fess up? Tough call. “I saw it this morning. It’s completely ridiculous,” she said, hoping her attempt at sounding nonchalant was working.

Megan skimmed the article. “So you didn’t say ‘Men deserve the harsh settlements they receive when they can’t keep their dot dot dot in their pants?’”

Okay, now that quote had been changed completely. What she’d actually said was men deserved the harsh settlements they received if they couldn’t keep their dot dot dot in their pants. If... The if made a big difference. “Of course not...not exactly, anyway.” She paused. “Do you know if anyone else has seen this?”

Megan nodded. “Everyone has a copy. A courier delivered them from the magazine’s office this morning and the new intern, Laura, made sure to distribute them right away.”

Damn those new, eager-to-please interns.

She needed to get those magazines back. Starting with the most important copy. “Is Marvin here yet?”

“Mr. Marshall arrived about three minutes before you.”

Six-inch, not-yet-broken-in Manolos, a slightly too tight pencil skirt and adult asthma made her half sprint nearly impossible, but this was one of those career-pivotal moments, worth a broken ankle or asthma attack. He couldn’t have read it yet... Oh, please, God, don’t let him have read it yet.

Drawing a ragged breath a moment later, she stopped short in her boss’s open doorway.

He was reading it.

She could come back later...or not.

“Come in, Hayley,” he said as she turned to escape.

She leaned around the door frame while staying in the safety of the hallway. “Oh, good morning, Marvin. You looked busy, so I didn’t want to...”

“Please tell me all of this was taken out of context, misquoted... Anything that we can use to sue for defamation of character.”

Hayley took a deep breath and tucked a stray strand of blond hair behind her ear as she entered his office. “I’m sure some of it was.”

“How much of it?” He extended the magazine toward her.

She wanted to decline and say no, thanks, I’ve already read it. But the joke stuck in her throat. Taking the magazine, she scanned the article for anything that looked like an error. “Um...” There had to be a misprint somewhere. Of course there was the if-versus-when wording mix-up...but probably not useful to point out that one.

“Hayley...”

“Just give me a second.” She flipped the page. “Aha, this, right here. The part about prenuptial agreements being an early admission to failure in the marriage—that was totally off the record.” Even though it was true. Hayley didn’t believe in everlasting love, but if she could twist her mind around the fact that other people found themselves utterly and completely head over heels for someone else—enough to vow a lifetime together—why would the idea of a prenup even enter their minds? “So, we’re good, then?” she asked, forcing a smile.

Marvin stood and closed his office door.

Damn. “Marvin... Mr. Marshall...”

“Shh.”

She clamped her lips tightly together.

“Was the interview recorded?” He leaned his palms on the top of his oak desk and studied her, his hopeful expression fading by the second as she stalled.

“No?” Her shoulders sagged. “Yes, it was. Look, I’m really sorry. I did say some of those...”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, all of those things. Maybe it’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

“Do explain.” Marvin sat in his plush leather chair and waited.

“Well, the fact of the matter is, we are divorce attorneys. Clients want us to be ruthless...man haters—” she said the word carefully “—to a degree. At least the women clients.”

He closed his eyes, then, opening them, he spoke slowly. “Hayley, when you first came back from New York, I had my apprehensions about hiring you—despite your success record in court and your Harvard education. Do you remember why that was?”

She did. “You thought I had an edge.” It had been the first time she’d ever interviewed at a law firm where her perceived edge was a strike against her.

“Exactly. And what did you promise me?”

“That I could tone it down a notch.”

“I believe we’d agreed on a whole lot of notches.”

She nodded. “I’m sorry, Mr. Marshall. I promise this will not happen again. Next time I’m interviewed, I will avoid the tough questions and stick to the standard answers in our press kits.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “How about just staying away from the media altogether?”

She pointed at her boss. “Even better idea.” She wasn’t exactly in a hurry to humiliate herself further with a repeat of articles like this one anyway.

“In the meantime, I think we need to do some damage control.”

“I can release a statement or something. Maybe talk about my charity and pro bono cases...”

His face was stone cold. “What did I just say?”

“Staying away from the media—got it.” She sat on her hands and willed herself not to speak in the long silence that followed. She shifted in the seat and crossed one leg over the other. Sitting back, she switched legs.

Finally he spoke. “You have a boyfriend? Fiancé...right?”

No. Why was she nodding?

“Great. Make sure you bring your fiancé to the corporate retreat in Maui next week. We’ll show everyone that you are not a ‘man hater,’ that you have a solid relationship...”

She heard nothing after that. She just kept nodding. Bring her fiancé—oh, the man she’d broken up with at the first sign of commitment? No problem at all. She’d just call James and tell him she’d made a mistake and she really did want to get married. She shuddered at the thought.

“This company prides itself on strong family values. Just because we are divorce lawyers doesn’t mean we are anticommitment...” Her boss’s voice drifted into her already panicked thoughts.

She was. But if she wanted to keep her job she’d better pretend otherwise.

“Hayley, it’s important to us that everyone here at Marshall and Thompson Family Law shares a common core focus. Are you understanding my meaning?”

Too well. “Yes, of course. The corporate retreat—I’ll bring my fiancé.” She stumbled on the tan carpet as she stood. “I’ll make this right, sir.” Even if she had to beg a man she didn’t love to reconsider marrying her.

* * *

“MAN, WE REALLY need to find a new coffee shop. That place is always busy this time of morning,” Cooper Jennings said, climbing into the passenger seat of the police squad car. He placed the steaming drinks into the cup holders.

Chase reached for his and took a gulp, feeling his throat burn from the hot liquid. “That’s hot.”

Next to him, Cooper opened a paper bag and retrieved a Boston cream–filled donut.

Chase shook his head as the kid bit into the pastry. A month on the job and his new partner was already embracing the stereotype. Before long he’d look like one of the paper-pushing desk job guys if refined sugar and caffeine continued to be his breakfast after their long night shift. “You have to stop eating that crap. I want a partner who can run more than ten feet without gasping for air.”

“Don’t sweat it, man. I got you.”

He wouldn’t bet his life on that. Why had he agreed to train the new guy? Oh, right—Kate had begged him to.

Putting the car in Drive, he pulled out into traffic. He could barely keep his eyes open after the twelve-hour night shifts every day this week, and he was desperate to drop Cooper off at the station and get his ass home to a hot shower and his bed. In fact, even the shower might have to wait.

His cell phone rang at his side and, pulling the squad car into the police station, he reached for it and groaned. “Cooper, why is your fiancée calling me?” he asked, unbuckling his seat belt.

“Beats me, man. She’s your sister.”

“Not going to help me out here?”

The young cop who’d joined the force, against Chase’s advice, shook his head. “You’re on your own. Tell her I’ll be home in an hour,” he said, grabbing his coffee and getting out of the vehicle.

Chase tossed the ringing phone between his hands. If he didn’t answer now, she’d keep calling, interrupting his plans of sleeping the day away. “Hey, Kate,” he said a second later, resting the phone against his shoulder as he grabbed his bag from the backseat and got out of the car.

“Have you gone to Joseph’s to try on your tuxedo yet?” His sister’s voice was far too perky for 6:00 a.m.

He shot Cooper a questioning look as they walked toward the station. “Joseph who?”

His soon-to-be brother-in-law just laughed as he opened the door and stood back to let him enter.

“The men’s formal-wear shop. Chase, tell me you’re messing with me.”

Nope. The tux fitting for his sister’s wedding had escaped his mind the moment she’d mentioned it the month before. “I was planning to go today,” he muttered, grabbing his notebook and pen from his shirt pocket and writing Joseph’s on an empty page.

“No, you weren’t. You forgot,” Kate said and he could almost hear her pout. The youngest child of four and the only daughter, Kate had been spoiled from the time she’d poked her screaming head out, and somehow she’d managed to find a fiancé who continued to spoil her. He liked Cooper well enough, but a fellow cop would have been the last person he’d have wanted for his sister. Unfortunately, they’d met at the station when Kate had stopped in for lunch eight months before. Cooper had been signing some paperwork and the two had hit it off, much to Chase’s dismay. They were getting married the following week.

After only eight months—it seemed too fast to him.

He didn’t believe it was possible to know anyone well enough to get married after eight months. Of course his baby sister didn’t want to hear his opinion, so he’d kept his mouth shut. To Kate, at least. To Cooper, he’d threatened life and limb should he ever hurt her. And it was the only reason he’d agreed to train the man once he’d graduated from the academy. This way he could keep an eye on him and keep his ass safe.

Something he hadn’t managed to do for his last partner...

“Fine, I forgot. But the wedding is still a week away.” What was the big deal? He’d go try on a tux later that day. Hemming a pair of pants couldn’t possibly take that long.

“Yes, but we leave for Maui in two days.”

Great, no more avoiding that discussion. He still hadn’t told his sister that his plan was to take the red-eye flight the night before the wedding then leave right after the reception dinner. Three days away from his job with the Los Angeles Police Department was more than enough. “About that—”

“Chase, don’t even say it.”

“Kate, you know it’s hard for me to get time off.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Kate...” He suppressed a yawn. The twelve-hour night shift had been tough, but not as tough as this conversation with his sister. Was there a way to block stressful calls from coming in this early? If not, someone should definitely create an app for that.

“It’s my wedding, Chase. And you’re giving me away, remember?”

As the oldest, he’d taken over for both parents when his mother and father died in a car explosion years earlier. Alan Hartley had been an undercover cop working a long-term case in drug exports. An informant had leaked his identity to the cartel leader, just days before the bust that would have put the criminal behind bars for a long time. Unfortunately, his parents had lost their lives and the investigation had been for nothing. Chase had dropped out of college and enrolled in the police force.

Setting his bag next to his desk, he collapsed into the chair and eyed the stack of paperwork in his inbox tray. He rubbed his forehead and rested his head in his hand. “Look, Adam isn’t flying in until the day before.” If his youngest brother could get away with it, why couldn’t he?

“Adam is a pro NFL player with a game schedule and a contract he needs to worry about.”

Right, and he was just responsible for civilian safety. “I’ll be there for the ceremony.”

“No, you know what, forget it—if taking time off work for your sister’s wedding is too hard for you, I’ll ask Eric to give me away instead.”

His sister was one of the best wedding planners in Los Angeles. Weddings were her life and she believed them to be one of the most important days in her clients’ lives. Trying to tell her to relax about her own would only be met with an argument he was too exhausted for. “You won’t ask Eric because—”

At the dial tone, he knew she was continuing her temper tantrum in her home across town.

He had seven minutes until she called back, because despite her threat, there was no way she would leave something that important in the hands of their carefree, laid-back younger brother.

He scanned the work on his desk. He needed a shower to wake himself up before tackling the pile of paperwork. In the locker room he tossed his vest, gun holster and boots into his locker, and removed his shirt and pants.

In the mirror he examined a gash above his left eyebrow from an untimely encounter with a knife as he’d broken up a bar fight the evening before. He’d accepted a tetanus shot at the hospital but refused stitches... In hindsight, maybe that wasn’t the best idea. Shampoo in the deep wound was going to hurt like a son of a bitch.

He turned on the shower and let the steam from the hot water fill the room as he removed his boxer briefs. Then, climbing in, he assessed the rest of the damage—bruising on his rib cage and another small flesh wound on his upper thigh.

Assholes high on crack and who knew what else. They’d spent the night in a drunk tank, but Chase had been unable to charge them for possession, finding only a small bag of marijuana on the youngest kid, who—as luck would have it—actually had a prescription for medicinal use. Today they would go free. And no doubt they’d mess up worse the next time and the next time, until finally landing in a state penitentiary, which would ultimately serve to make them better criminals.

As the water poured down his back, he leaned an arm against the shower wall and rested his head against it. He’d take another knife fight at that moment over a battle with his sister. He knew she’d get her way—Kate always did.

She knew it, too. That was why she was calling back two minutes earlier than he’d predicted. Turning off the shower taps, he reached for a towel and his ringing cell phone. “I’ll change my flights,” he said with a sigh.

“I know.”