“Trouble in the Lewis and Hammerstein paradise. Apparently, Daniel and Brandon have been at odds recently. Daniel’s a partner, of course, but Brandon’s enough of a hotshot to pull a fair number of clients with him if he leaves.”
“Leaves? Why would he do that? He’s about to make partner.”
“I don’t know. He doesn’t pump you for information, does he?”
“No. He won’t talk about the case at all. He doesn’t even want to hear me talk about it.”
Tom grunted. “That’s the right thing to do, in any case, as cold and unsympathetic as it makes him seem. Anyway, I just spoke to Daniel this morning and told him you weren’t too interesting in a quick settlement. I think I’ll let him sweat it out a bit before telling him you’ve changed your mind.”
“But why?”
“I don’t think his client wants to go to court. He may be more willing to negotiate a lower settlement to keep this case out of the hands of a judge. I’ll keep you informed.” Tom hung up.
Oh, damn. Shannon thought. What a mess…
The setting sun cast its golden light into Brandon’s office windows and pooled upon the soft cream carpet. He was buried in one of his latest cases, but looked up at the sharp, impatient knock on the door. Brandon’s eyes narrowed. “Daniel. What do you want?”
“The clinic. The Larson woman has decided to go all the way to court.”
“You mean Shannon Larson. Not ‘the Larson woman.’”
“You put her up to this, didn’t you?”
“Be careful with your accusations, Daniel. I don’t discuss the firm’s cases with anyone outside the firm.”
“Not even with the woman you’re shacking up with?”
Brandon leaned back in his seat, but the tautness in his shoulders belied his easy pose. “It’s none of your business.”
“We have to win this case. It’ll open the door for all kinds of legal work with our new client.”
“By all means, win it.”
“We can’t afford to go to court; you know that. The evidence is too weak, and I haven’t found anything to strengthen it. The judge will toss out the case.”
Brandon shrugged. “So?”
“You have to talk to the Larson woman. Get her to settle.”
“Shannon. Or Miss Larson. Not ‘the Larson woman.’”
“Damn it, Brandon. This isn’t the time for semantics.”
“This isn’t semantics. It’s courtesy. And if indeed I’m shacking up with Shannon, then what you’re asking me to do is a violation of professional ethics.”
“How is ‘giving free legal advice’ a violation of ethics?”
“When it’s unsolicited and the parties are in an emotional and sexual relationship.”
“So you are shacking up with her?”
“It’s not relevant. We don’t speak about the case at all.”
“It doesn’t mean you can’t.”
Brandon frowned. “What part of ‘violation of professional ethics’ do you not understand?” He pushed slowly to his feet. “Let me make this clear, then. I will not discuss this case with Shannon, and I will certainly not convince her to do something that’s not in her best interest. If you want her to settle, you talk her lawyer into it.”
“This could mean millions in future revenue for Lewis and Hammerstein. It could mean your partnership.”
Brandon’s smile was cold. “I wondered when you’d get around to it. I want the partnership, but not badly enough to screw Shannon over, and certainly not badly enough to do something I don’t want to see printed on the front page of the New York Times.”
Daniel snorted. “You haven’t told Hammerstein, have you?”
“If he cared to ask, I would.”
“You’ve already lost one big client for the firm. I don’t think you can afford to not help me land this fish.”
“We’ve already talked about this.” Brandon frowned. Was Daniel dense or just persistent? “You don’t have any leverage over me.”
“How about the fact that I know you’re telling the truth about one thing? I know that you and Shannon are not shacking up. In fact, I know she ended things with you.” Daniel slouched against the door, elegant in his Hugo Boss suit. “That’s the part I don’t get. You’re risking your partnership, your entire career for a woman who dumped you.” He shook his head. “You need to figure out what’s important. You have to prioritize the long-term view.”
Resentment lodged like a fist in Brandon’s chest. “I am.”
Daniel smiled thinly. “I’m sure you’ll do the right thing. I’ll be in my office.”
Brandon’s hands closed to fists. Damn you. Daniel was right. Shannon had made her choice, and it was not him. He could not blame her. He had not been able to meet the most basic tenet of a relationship—to listen.
He was sacrificing his career over a woman who did not want him.
Right after he figured out that he was in love with her.
A muscle twitched in his cheek. Taste. A+. Timing. F-.
He stared down at his computer notebook and at the paper files on the table. He loved his work; he even enjoyed the place where he worked, most of the time.
But Daniel was right. There was a choice to be made, and Brandon had run out of time.
Chapter 14
Shannon did not hear from her lawyer until the following evening. Her cell phone rang as she stepped into her townhouse. Fumbling with her keys, she dug into her handbag and pulled out her phone. “Yes, hi, Tom. What’s up?”
“Good news,” Tom said without preamble. “I just heard from Daniel Lewis. Turns out my nerves were stronger than his.”
“It’s so nice to know that our legal system consists of school boys playing chicken.”
Tom laughed. “Anyway, he said that his client would like to settle.”
“How much.”
“Fifteen thousand.”
Shannon’s jaw dropped. “From two million to fifteen thousand?”
“Actually, he wanted thirty. I talked him down to fifteen.”
“That’s wonderful, but what happened to all those zeros at the end?”
“They were pushing their luck, trying to see what they could get away with. I had a feeling they didn’t want to go to court. Fifteen thousand still isn’t pocket change, but your insurance will cover it and I don’t think your rates will go up all that much.”
“Oh, that’s amazing. I can’t thank you enough. How long before it’s all settled?”
“There are still seven hells’ worth of paperwork, to make sure that what we agreed on verbally is signed off by you and his client, and then the insurance company needs to make the payment. You’re about six weeks from the finish line, but at least it’s in sight.”
“So…can I talk to Brandon now?”
“Let’s not chance it. Not until we’ve got everything signed and settled. After all, he’s—”
“On the other side?” Shannon sighed. “All right. I get it. Thank you, Tom. I really appreciate everything you’ve done.” She hung up, and a small smile crept across her face. For the first time since she tore open that registered mail envelope, she drew a deep breath without heavy pressure crushing down on her chest.
Her phone rang again, and she glanced at the number. Her brow furrowed, but she accepted the call. “Hi, Brandon.”
“Hey, Shannon. I wondered if you’d like to go grab a drink.”
“Uh…I don’t think it’s a good idea, not right now. Perhaps in a month or two, with this case behind us.”
“Just one glass,” he said. “I could use the company and the good wishes.”
“Good wishes?” Shannon glanced over her shoulder at the buzzing doorbell. “Someone’s here. Can you wait for a moment?” She slid back the blot and flung open the door. Her heart tripped in her chest. “Brandon?”
He grinned as he disconnected the call and slid his phone back into his pocket.
Shannon stared blankly at her phone for a moment before putting
it away. “What are you doing in Westchester on a weeknight?”
He held up a bottle of wine. “I found a magnificent Moscato, sweet enough for your tastes. I thought we could share it in front of your fireplace.”
“I don’t have a fireplace.”
“If you have cable TV, channel 107 is a screensaver of a fireplace, complete with the crackle of flames and pop of logs settling.”
“Isn’t that a little cheesy?”
“I can do romantic in Tuscany with a real fireplace. Here, in Westchester, I’ll settle for cheesy, as long as it’s with you.”
His words made her heart ache, but it drew a smile on her lips. “Brandon, I wish I could. It’s just…not yet. Your timing isn’t good. Our timing, in fact, has been terrible.”
“On the contrary, our timing couldn’t be more perfect. You see, I’m looking for someone to share a toast.”
“A toast to what?”
He stepped into her townhouse and walked to the kitchen where he expertly uncorked the wine and poured two glasses. He handed one to her with a faint smile. “And here’s to me.”
Shannon chuckled. Oh, that was so Brandon. “All right, here’s to you.” She raised her glass.
“And my job search.”
Her eyes flared wide, and she almost dropped her glass. “Your what?”
“I resigned from Lewis and Hammerstein this morning.”
“You’re not…” She studied him. “You’re serious.”
“Very much so.”
“But you were going to make partner.”
“Yes, I was. Then Daniel Lewis reminded me that I needed to prioritize my long-term goals. I think he meant the partnership, but he wasn’t explicit. And with lawyers, you always have to be clear or we’ll just make our own assumptions.”
“So what did you assume?”
“That he meant happiness, in whatever form it takes.” His smile was tender as he stroked her cheek with the back of his other hand. “So I chose happiness.”
“But your partnership?”
“When I handed in my resignation letter, I felt only relief, but do you know what I felt that day when I heard you on the phone with Tom, talking about the case?”
Shannon shook her head.
“Angry frustration that burned a hole inside me. I knew what to do. I could have advised you on the best thing to do, but I couldn’t, because I was…” He sighed. “If not on the other side, then trapped in the middle. And when you told me that you didn’t want advice, that all you wanted was to be able to talk and know that I was listening…it drove me crazy that I couldn’t even do that one simple thing for you. Do you have any idea what it’s like to love someone and not be able to do the most basic thing to keep your relationship alive?”
“So you quit your job? Because of me?”
“Because of us.” His smile faded into a faint curve of his lips—wistful yet hopeful. “If there can still be an ‘us.’”
Brandon studied the flicker of emotion through Shannon’s expressive eyes. Her lips were slightly parted, as if with shock, and her wide eyes betrayed a vulnerable core beneath the strength and humor that made her one of the most amazing women he knew. Her mouth slowly shaped a smile. “I was so afraid to talk to you about the case. I didn’t want you to think that I was another Cynthia.”
“I could never mistake you for Cynthia, not when you chose to push me away instead of demand help from me. Ironically, your decision to leave solidified mine to do something about the situation. I was going to wait it out and see what happened, but when you walked away, I realized that life was too short to just wait for everything to work out perfectly.”
“So you quit?”
“So I simplified the situation by removing the complication—the case and the fact that we’re on opposite sides of the table. I don’t want anything between us, Shannon. Not the malpractice case. Not anymore.”
She huffed her breath out quickly. “They asked for a settlement—fifteen thousand dollars.”
“That’s good.”
“You’re not surprised.”
“Daniel Lewis panicked this morning when I turned in my resignation. Hammerstein was furious, as much with him as with me. I think he’d heard of the bickering between me and Daniel.”
“Bickering?”
“We could call it philosophical differences, but really, we were just bickering. He wanted to win the case with a large settlement. I wasn’t going to help him.”
“He put pressure on you? You mean like Cynthia did?”
“Not too different.”
Shannon shook her head. “What kind of world do you live in?”
“It’s not as shady as it sounds, but all it takes is a few rough cases to sour anyone on the practice of law.”
“You’ve been burned twice.”
“Once, with Cynthia.”
“You gave up your chance of partnership twice.”
“On the contrary, I consider myself lucky that I left before buying into the partnership. I’ve already got two interviews scheduled with firms in New York, and one here in Westchester.”
“Really? Here?” Her voice lilted with hope. “You chose me over your career.” She bit down on her lower lip, and her voice trembled. “I never imagined someone like you would do that.”
“I’m gambling on happiness—yours and mine.” He raised her hands to her lips and breathed a kiss upon her fingertips.
“You swore that you wouldn’t take that kind of risk again.”
“I reevaluated.” He grinned. “Figured you were good odds.” He paused. “Are you?”
Her eyes fluttered close as she raised her lips to his. The kiss held all the promise of tomorrows. Her breath was sweet with hope. When she finally broke the kiss, she leaned against his chest instead of pulling away. “So we can talk—really talk—about the case and about anything else now?”
He nodded.
“And if I don’t feel like talking?”
He tapped the rim of his wineglass against hers. “What else did you have in mind?”
“You said you didn’t want anything between us, but as far as I can see, there’s still something big—two big things—between us.”
He frowned. “What is it?”
Her smile turned impish. “Your clothes and mine.” She set her glass down. “Make love to me, Brandon. Our timing’s absolutely perfect.”
Chapter 15
As Tom Lancaster had promised, the malpractice case settled and closed within six weeks. To celebrate, Shannon, Brandon, and Andrea met at one of Westchester’s finer dining establishments. A dark-haired server introduced herself as Larissa, and took Brandon’s wine order before leaving her customers to flip through their menus.
Shannon leaned over, her shoulder brushing against Brandon’s. “If I order the duck and you order the lamb, I’ll give you a taste of mine if you give me a taste of yours.”
Brandon chuckled. “I wonder if the chef will be offended if I take a snapshot of his menu.”
“Probably not.”
Andrea laughed. “Are you still working on perfecting the roast lamb chops?”
Shannon nodded. “He’s got lamb shanks down to utter perfection, but he’s determined to concoct interesting flavors for lamb chops that don’t include rosemary.”
“I like rosemary,” Andrea said.
“See?” Shannon threw Brandon a quick smile. “There’s a reason the classics remain classics.”
“Besides demonstrating a profound lack of creativity?” Brandon retorted.
Andrea smiled. “I’m sure your upcoming European trip will provide more fine dining inspiration. Are you two going anywhere, other than Italy?”
Brandon shook his head. “I offered Shannon the grand tour of Europe, but she said she wanted to go back to Tuscany.”
Shannon slowly sipped her water before speaking. “When we were there the first time, I was convinced it was the wrong time, the wrong place, and the wrong guy. Well, Brandon has now proved me wrong
on all those counts, so I want to go back and set those memories right.”
“It’s the best reason I’ve ever heard to visit Tuscany,” Andrea said. “Not that there could ever be a bad reason for visiting Tuscany.” She looked at Brandon. “I’m surprised you’re taking vacation so early in your new job.”
“I negotiated it before signing the employment papers.” Brandon grinned. “Advanced planning—lawyers are good at that, too.”
“So good that I might consider keeping one around indefinitely,” Shannon said as the sommelier brought the bottle of wine around for Brandon’s inspection.
At Brandon’s nod, he proceeded to fill the wineglasses at the table. Shannon waited until the sommelier departed before reaching for her glass of wine. A Riesling, she thought, fruity and yummy; Brandon had selected it just for her. Smiling, she raised her glass to the man she loved. “Here’s to the second vacation of a lifetime.” And what I hope will lead to a lifetime of vacations with you.
THE END
Turn the page and continue Love Letters with this excerpt from MALIGNED!
Maligned
Tom Lancaster, a single father not looking for a relationship, is reluctantly roped into investigating an escort responsible for wrecking his sister’s marriage, but instead of a sly and seductive siren, he meets the pretty girl-next-door.
Sheridan is an aspiring college graduate and influential fashion blogger. She also has secrets—shameful secrets, precious secrets—and a past that could shatter her carefree present and promising future.
When Tom discovers Sheridan’s secrets, will he trust only the facts he can see, hear, and touch, or will he be the first and only man to accept her for anything and everything she is?
CHAPTER ONE
“At what point did I stop being your snot-nosed younger brother and get promoted to private investigator?”
“You’ll always be my snot-nosed younger brother.”
Tom Lancaster shook his head at his sister’s affectionate reply before sipping from his glass of cabernet sauvignon. The night was unusually warm for Thanksgiving in Manhattan, and at Charlotte’s urging, he had accompanied her out to the terrace after dinner. His elder sister’s twenty-sixth floor penthouse on the Upper East Side offered a stunning view of city lights without the immersion of city sounds.
Lured: A Love Letters Novel Page 11
