by Jan Moran
“Don’t doubt yourself, Scarlett.” Verena gave her a warm smile. “When I let Lance into my heart, my entire world changed. He came along at the worst imaginable time in my life. Now I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
Scarlett studied a speck on the white tablecloth, ruminating over her relationship with Johnny. They had been so perfect together in Spain. Why was she questioning what they had now? Verena was right; she should listen to her heart. “It’s easy to say, but my life is really a mess, Verena.”
“You’re not the only one at this table to have been fired from a job.”
Scarlett nodded, remembering Verena’s trials. She’d represented Verena through one of the worst debacles she’d ever seen. “It’s tough to start over, especially when you’ve been on one path for so many years. I’ve had blinders on. I’m not sure what to do next, but I have to make a decision soon. I have a little money set aside, but between student loans and my mother’s support, it won’t last long.”
“I understand. Sometimes you have to eat pasta and tuna for a while. You can always camp on my couch, or Dahlia’s or Fianna’s, if you need to. Though Johnny’s place sounds much more exciting. I hear he has a thing for bubble baths.”
Scarlett laughed. “I think the guys gossip more than we do.”
“It’s good to hear you laugh,” Verena said, touching Scarlett’s hand. “I have to tell you, I never really saw you as a law firm partner. I’m sure you would have been brilliant, but was it really you?”
“I thought so at the time.” Scarlett passed a hand over her forehead. “The problem is that I don’t think other firms will hire me after I bring suit against Marsh & Gold.”
Verena frowned. “Are you sure about doing that?”
“Absolutely.” Scarlett pressed her lips together. “I couldn’t, in good conscience, let those jerks get away with what they did to me. What woman would be next on their hit list?” Scarlett smacked her fist as she spoke. “What they did is against the law, against everything I vowed to uphold.” How dare they? She took her dedication to her profession seriously.
Verena grinned. “There’s the passion I love in you. What else are you passionate about?”
“That’s what Johnny and I talked about in Spain. Maybe it’s time I hung out my own shingle.”
“That’s a great idea. You’re good at what you do, and you know dozens of people in the beauty industry.” Verena gazed into space and held her hands up like a mock plaque. “I can see it now: Scarlett Sandoval, Esquire.”
Scarlett could see it, too. At once she saw her life unfolding before her, as if she were standing at a crossroad watching previews of coming attractions. “That’s exactly what I’d like to do. But I have no idea where I’ll find the clients, or the money to hang up that shingle.”
“Just begin and believe,” Verena said, placing her hand over Scarlett’s. “My grandmother calls it kismet.”
“So I’ve heard.”
Later, after they finished lunch and got up to leave, Scarlett hugged Verena. “Thanks for meeting me for lunch today. I really needed to speak to someone who’s been where I am.”
“Hang in there, Scarlett. Never give up.” Verena picked up her purse. “And don’t forget about the 10k walk I told you about next weekend. It’s a fundraiser for breast cancer. I’m trying to get the whole gang together.”
“Thanks for reminding me. I’d almost forgotten.” Scarlett waved good-bye, and then strolled along Sunset Boulevard, deep in thought.
She paused in front of the colorful resort style window displays at Calypso St. Barth, which reminded her of the shops she’d seen on the beach in Spain. Here it was, a sunny afternoon, when she should be toiling away in a high-rise building in Century City advancing her career. Instead, she was wandering past boutiques and thinking about what to do with her life.
When Verena was going through her difficult times, Scarlett found it easy to advise her, yet her own troubles weren’t as clear or straightforward when it came to weighing and making decisions.
Scarlett walked on, considering the undertaking with Zelda she was about to embark upon. The road ahead would be fraught with turmoil. Scarlett was a transactional intellectual property attorney, not a trial attorney. That meant depositions, discovery, and trial preparation. She was more accustomed to researching trademarks, drawing up licensing agreements, and assisting clients in making deals.
She didn’t particularly care for the amount of work it would take, but it was necessary.
No one was going to get away with attempted murder if she could help it.
16
THIN RAYS OF morning sunshine slanted across Johnny’s face. He blinked and rolled over on his side. There beside him was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. “Good morning, mi corazon.”
He loved waking up with Scarlett.
“Mmm, good morning yourself.” She stretched her warm, toned body in a sensual feline fashion that never failed to arouse him. Her golden hair was strewn across the pillow, and her peridot green cat eyes blinked lazily at him.
He arched over her and nuzzled her neck. “Stay here, mi amor, I’ll get the coffee brewing.”
Johnny padded across the wooden floor. He made his way into the traditional black-and-white, hexagonal-tiled kitchen. As he filled the coffee carafe, he looked out the window and watched the craftsmen arriving to work at the main house. Mexican music blared from their radio, and laughter rose in the air.
While the coffee brewed, Johnny leaned against the cool counter and went over the tasks on his mental to-do list. Today was his day off from the Polo Lounge. The first item on his list was to meet Lance, as well as Maude and her husband, Patrick, at the restaurant.
Since Johnny had returned from Spain, he’d spent time refining the business plan with Lance, drilling down to the exact amount of funds they’d need to open and operate until they began to realize a profit. Maude and Patrick had submitted the proposal to their business team. Johnny had fielded several calls from their accountant, attorney, and investment advisor.
Maude had already seen the restaurant, but now that Patrick had returned from Shanghai, he was interested in inspecting it, too. This would be the last step in the process. It was a vitally important meeting. The one thing they still lacked was a name. Nothing they’d thought of had been quite right.
In the meantime, Lance had been working on the eclectic menu, and he’d added a number of tapas and dessert items Johnny had discovered in Spain. Lance was preparing a menu sampling for Maude and Patrick. Johnny blew out a breath. He and Lance had been working hard for this day. Their entire future hung on this meeting.
Johnny also had a special surprise planned for Scarlett. He grinned as he thought of it.
He was glad she was no longer with the law firm, but he was still worried about her. She’d been spending hours with Zelda Robinson working on their case. He fully supported her in her decision, but he could see that it was draining her. She had to revisit all the horrible events in excruciating detail.
Every chance he got, he thought of ways to lift her spirits and brighten her mood. Last night he’d taken her out dancing at new salsa club. She had great rhythm, and she’d really let loose. He smiled. He loved seeing her laugh.
The coffee machine beeped, and Johnny poured the steaming liquid into deep blue Talavera pottery mugs. Balancing the cups, he returned to the bedroom.
“Java time,” he said, putting the mugs on the shabby chic nightstands he’d found at a thrift store.
Scarlett reached up and pulled him down onto the bed. “Oh, I don’t think so, mi cariño.” She wrapped a leg around him and rolled on top of him, smothering him in kisses. “Not yet, anyway.”
Johnny sank into the downy bed beneath her, savoring every moment of his sweet capture.
When Johnny and Scarlett arrived at the cottage restaurant in Beverly Hills, Lance was already there. The landlord had opened the restaurant early, allowing Lance to test the kitchen equipment. Jo
hnny was relieved that the landlord had been so accommodating.
He glanced at Scarlett. He was awfully glad she was here with him for moral support. She wore a short white lace dress, which made her tanned skin gleam in contrast. Strappy heels made her legs look even longer. What a lucky guy I am.
Johnny took Scarlett’s hand and led her to the kitchen, where Lance was at work. He wore a white chef jacket and checked pants, and he was intently focused on preparing an array of small plates to his exacting standards. A sous chef worked behind him on other plates.
“Hey, chef,” Johnny said, giving him a brotherly hug. “Smells fantastic. What have you got here?”
“Check it out,” Lance said. “Hello Scarlett, great to see you. I think some of these might remind you of your trip to Spain.”
Salmorejo, carpaccio de atún rojo, ensalada de langostinos,
“Is that salmorejo?” she asked.
“Sure is,” Lance said. “There’s a lot of gazpacho around, but I like this better. It had a nice, creamy consistency, with the hard-boiled egg and Iberian ham as side garnishes.”
Maude and her husband appeared at the kitchen entry. “Hello, darlings,” Maude said, air kissing each one of them in turn. “I can’t wait for Patrick to see everything.” She glanced at Johnny and smiled. “I do believe that’s Gregory Peck’s bow-tie, isn’t it?”
Johnny touched the fine vintage silk. “Indeed it is.” That morning Scarlett had suggested he wear it for luck.
Maude held up a bottle. “Lance, when Johnny told me you were preparing selections from the new menu for us, I thought we should at least supply the wine. Here’s a special bottle that’s been resting in our cellar for some time.”
Lance peered at the dusty bottle. “Château Rothschild. An excellent wine, thank you.”
Johnny busied himself with opening the wine, while Scarlett spoke to Maude and Patrick. Lance and his sous chef turned their attention back to food preparation.
Once he’d removed the cork, Johnny tasted the wine. “While that’s breathing, and the chef is putting the finishing touches on our treats, I’d like to take you on a tour and share our vision for the new restaurant.”
With Scarlett by his side, Johnny led Maude and Patrick through the vintage cottage restaurant. This was the most import meeting of his life, and he’d spent days preparing for this. Having Scarlett there meant a lot to him; her presence gave him confidence. This was their future.
“In the front we have the dining and lounge patio, which will be the most popular place for lunch.” Johnny went on to guide them through the space, pointing out cozy fireplaces and the bar area, and tallying the number of tables and guests they could accommodate.
When they returned to the kitchen, Lance served the small plates and described each dish. Maude and Patrick enjoyed each sample, exclaiming how delicious they were.
Johnny added, “Lance recently won an award in Paris for his crab dish, which will be a main feature on our menu.”
“And this dish,” Lance said, taking another plate from the sous chef, “is one we call Isabel’s Paella, a specialty of Spain.”
Johnny watched Scarlett’s face as the surprise registered.
Lance went on. “We have Scarlett’s mother to thank for this old family recipe.” At his cue, Isabel stepped inside the kitchen and executed a little bow.
“Bravo,” Johnny said, giving her hug.
“Why didn’t I know anything about this?” Scarlett asked.
Isabel began distributing small plates of Spanish paella to the guests. “It was a surprise, nena. Johnny called from Spain, and asked me to work with Lance on a recipe for the new restaurant. He took our family recipe, and standardized it for a commercial kitchen. What do you think?”
Maude and Patrick tasted it and exclaimed over the blend of seafood, saffron, and other spices.
“It’s perfect, Mamá,” Scarlett said, hugging her mother. She blew a kiss to Johnny.
As they were concluding the tasting, Maude and Patrick shared a look. “I suggest we raise our glasses in a toast,” Maude said. “Here’s to the success of the new restaurant, and a long run with our new partners, Johnny and Lance. Congratulations, gentlemen. We’re in.”
Johnny and Lance thanked Maude and Patrick, and then Johnny picked up Scarlett and whirled her around. “We’ve done it, chica!”
Lance raised his glass. “Now all we need it a name.”
Scarlett threw her head back and laughed. “I’ve got an idea. How about Bow-Tie?”
“Bow-Tie.” Maude raised an eyebrow. “It’s classy, retro, and clever.”
“Vintage cool,” Lance added.
They all looked at each another and began to nod.
Johnny grinned and raised his glass. “By Gregory, I think we have a name.”
After everyone else left the restaurant, Scarlett stayed behind with Johnny to tidy and lock up. Scarlett was so pleased and relieved for him. She curved her arms around him as he was turning the key in the cottage door lock. People were strolling along the Beverly Hills sidewalk behind them.
“Congratulations, mi cariño, you’re on your way with your restaurant. Your dream.” Scarlett laughed at the irony of the situation as she recalled her conversation with Verena. Now Johnny was pulling ahead of her, professionally speaking. And she was unemployed.
But was it really a race between them? Maybe she’d been too competitive with Johnny. A relationship shouldn’t be a contest.
He turned around in her arms. “You’re my dream, Scarlett. The restaurant, as much as I’ve worked for this moment, is just business.” He kissed her forehead. “The last week in Spain, that’s the sort of life I want to spend with you. That’s my dream.”
“Without that nasty bit at the Ritz Hotel, please.”
“Never again.” Johnny released her and pocketed the key. “I’ll return this to the landlord and tell him we’ve got a partner. We’ll work on the lease this week. I can’t wait until we open the doors.”
“Johnny, wait up!”
Scarlett turned around, and her heart sank. It was Carla Ramirez. She was strutting toward them in a red spandex dress with matching high heels. She had a curvy figure to show off, but in Scarlett’s opinion, it was far too obvious. Carla reeked of fresh perfume, too. Scarlett knew Carla lived nearby. Had she driven by, seen the cottage lights, and raced home to change? She wouldn’t put it past her.
“Johnny, I left you a couple of messages. Didn’t you get them?”
“Um, yeah, I did. Things have been pretty hectic, Carla.”
Scarlett folded her arms. Is that what this is called?
“Johnny, I’ve spent hours collecting pictures for the interior of your new restaurant. I really want you to see them and decide which design you’d like me to do. Like I said before, I can start right away.”
Scarlett wiggled her fingers in a wave. “Hello, Carla. I’m here, too.”
Carla flipped her curly dark hair over her shoulder. “I see that. Hi.” She turned back to Johnny and put her hand on his arm.
Johnny smiled at her. “Lance is my partner, Carla, and we’ll make those decisions together.”
Scarlett was fuming. Why didn’t he remove Carla’s hand? Why did he stand there with a silly smile on his face? And why was he talking to Carla about restaurant design?
“Perfect,” Carla said. “You can decide which ones you like and then we’ll show those to Lance.”
“Okay, sure. Why don’t you bring them to the Polo Lounge and I’ll have a look.”
Scarlett spoke up. “I’d like to see them, too, Carla.” She might as well have been invisible. Carla didn’t even acknowledge her. Nor did Johnny. Was a clingy red dress all it took to capture his attention?
Carla slid her hand up his shoulder. “I can’t bring them in, Johnny. I have far too much to carry. I have it all set up in my dining room at the house. Why don’t you come by? I have the evening free. Or tomorrow.”
“He’s busy, Carla.” Scarlett hoo
ked her arm in Johnny’s. “Ready to go?”
“Johnny can make his own decisions,” Carla said. “I might even invest in the restaurant, too. Come on, Johnny, I’ve been working so hard for you.”
Scarlett gave a sarcastic laugh. “That’s pretty obvious.” She remembered what her mother had told her about Carla’s plan for hooking Johnny.
Carla shot her a sizzling look.
“Hey, you two,” Johnny said. “Carla, I’ll be happy to look at your work, but Scarlett and I have dinner plans tonight. We’re dating.”
“Tomorrow, then?” Carla pouted.
Scarlett couldn’t believe Carla’s brazen behavior. Does this actually work with men? She was embarrassed for Johnny.
“I’ll call you, Carla,” Johnny said, his voice edging on exasperation. “It was good to see you.”
“Always good to see you, Johnny.” In a flash, Carla kissed him on both cheeks, tossing her hair into Scarlett’s face as she did.
I’m too old for this. Scarlett started counting in order to control her anger. Carla Ramirez wasn’t worth it. She knew she could trust Johnny.
Couldn’t she?
17
SCARLETT SAT FACING the window in a downtown Los Angeles skyscraper. The grey smog was especially thick this Monday morning, obscuring the San Bernardino mountain range that rimmed the city. Dark, tempestuous storm clouds threatened rainfall, and a hail line was forming low in the sky. Scarlett shuddered in her light wool suit jacket. Everything about the day was foreboding.
“State your name for the record, please.” Peering at her from under bushy eyebrows, the attorney for the defense began his line of questioning for the deposition.
“Escarlata Sandoval.”
A court reporter sat at the end of the long conference table in the defense counsel’s office. Her job was to type everything that was said.
“Occupation.”
“Unemployed.” She shot a sharp glance at Lucan and David, who were sitting beside the bald-headed attorney facing her. A line of men in dark suits sat on the side of the defense, while Scarlett, Zelda, and an associate, Lori, sat on the opposing side. It was so clichéd in today’s integrated world of business, Scarlett thought wryly. A classic men-versus-women scenario. Clearly she’d gone to work for the wrong firm.
