A glimmer of admiration shone in his eyes. “Then you’re a lucky woman.”
She frowned with confusion. “And you’re not a lucky man?”
“What have I ever accomplished in life?”
“A lot, from where I’m standing.”
“There’s a difference between not blowing the opportunities my parents handed me on a silver platter, and actually going out in the world and doing something, Charlotte,” he said flatly.
“True,” she conceded. “But it’s never too late. You’re not trapped where you are. If you want to do something important, then do it. What’s stopping you?”
He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes, clearly thinking it over. “I don’t know. Me, maybe.”
“Well, you’d better get out of your own way, hadn’t you?”
“And what should I do after that? Check and see if your crystal ball has the answer to that one for me, why don’t you?”
Answers? Her? “You’re barking up the wrong tree there,” she said, laughing. “I hate to be the one to tell you. You need to figure it out for yourself. Give it some thought. The answer is probably right under your nose.”
He paused, arrested, staring at her in that unnerving way of his—as though there was nothing inside her, not even a drop of blood or a cell’s nucleus, that he couldn’t see.
Waves of heat ran up her face, across her cheeks and converged on her scalp. “Well,” she said, flustered. “We should go. Your family’s waiting.”
If he heard her, he gave no sign of it. For one second his eyes seemed to slide out of focus, and then, suddenly, a new light went on behind them, as though he was having an aha moment, and a significant one at that.
“Charlotte,” he murmured, “you’re a genius.”
As always, praise, especially when she didn’t know why she’d earned it, threw her out of whack. “I didn’t—”
“Yeah,” he countered. “You did. I have an idea for a project at the office. I’m going to talk to the powers-that-be about it after the photo shoot.” He paused, unsmiling. “Thank you.”
Mesmerized at being the focal point of all this unwavering attention, Charlotte felt her flush deepen until she could feel the hot rush of blood in her ears.
“Glad I could help.”
He didn’t answer.
“Your family,” she said weakly, because they’d drifted closer to each other, almost within kissing range, and she needed to do something to break the spell between them.
It worked. Blinking, he looked around to the front door, and she had the feeling that he was reorienting himself to his surroundings.
“Let’s go,” he said grimly.
Chapter 5
They strode up to the front door. Charlotte took a few quick breaths and tried to get her mind right, which included not thinking about how much she wished she could kiss her boss. Was her face glowing purple? It still felt hot.
“Are you ready for this?”
There was a worried note in Jake’s voice that made her grin. “Of course I’m ready for this. I know some of them from work. And they don’t bite, do they?”
“They bite under the right circumstances,” he said darkly. “Plus I’m not sure you’ve ever been confronted with this many Hamiltons at the same time. It seems like a terrible thing to do to a person. I don’t want you demanding a raise or anything.”
She shot him a sidelong grin as they climbed the stone steps to the porch. “I’m the single mother of a toddler boy, in case you’ve forgotten. Adults don’t scare me.”
“Foolish words, Charlotte,” he said, raising his hand to knock. “I’m afraid you’ll live to regret—”
Without warning, the huge front door swung open, and Charlotte found herself face-to-face with the woman who could only be Jeanette Hamilton, Jake’s mother. Where else could he have gotten those intense brown eyes and sharp cheekbones?
Unfortunately, her mood seemed to be hovering somewhere between foul and murderous.
Straightening her spine, Mrs. Hamilton divided her flinty gaze between Charlotte and Jake. After smoothing her highlighted brown hair, she thinned her lipsticked mouth, narrowed her perfectly lined eyes and folded her arms across the front of her exquisite blue silk blouse. After a long moment, during which she seemed to struggle with the decision of whom to address first, she settled on Charlotte.
“Charlotte, I presume?” Extending her hand, she shook Charlotte’s in a crushing grip. “I’ll deal with you in a moment, dear.”
That didn’t sound good.
In a subtle gesture, Jake edged in front of Charlotte, blocking her from Mrs. Hamilton’s displeasure. “No, you won’t, Mother.”
Looking supremely unconcerned, he kissed Mrs. Hamilton on her tight cheek, took Charlotte by the elbow and led her into the foyer. Charlotte tried—and failed—not to be awed, especially when a quick glance around revealed a spectacular staircase, vaulted ceiling with chandelier, antique sideboards, gilded mirrors, a couple curved benches, Persian rugs and long hallways spinning off to the left and right.
“If you want to be angry at anyone,” Jake continued, “it should be me. I was running late. Sorry. What’d I miss?”
This apology didn’t seem to cut it as far as Mrs. Hamilton was concerned. Closing the door behind them with a snap, she followed along, hot on their trail, heels clicking aggressively.
“Don’t you try to weasel your way out of trouble with that lame apology, Jacob Hamilton the Third. You know very well that—”
“Oh, boy.” Jacob Hamilton the Second, Jake’s father and also a senior partner at the firm, strode through one of the arched doorways and came to a stop in front of them, eyes twinkling and voice filled with mock concern. It had been at least a couple months since Charlotte last saw him at the office, where their paths crossed periodically in the kitchen or on the elevator, and Charlotte was struck again by his youth and vigor. Both Jakes were tall, energetic and fit, although the older Jake’s features were bracketed with lines that gave him a distinguished air, an effect that was intensified by his dark suit and red bow tie. “I see you’ve landed yourself in the doghouse already, JJ,” Mr. Hamilton said, pulling Jake in for a back-thumping hug. “Nice going. I’ll ask Cook to open up a can of Alpo for you. How does that sound?”
Laughing, Jake extricated himself from his father’s grip and put a hand to the small of Charlotte’s back, making sure she was included in the conversation. “You know, Pop, I’m not sure, but I think the world is still revolving on its axis even though we’re a few minutes late. I could be wrong.”
“Please do not be flip with me, young man.” Mrs. Hamilton smoothed her hands over Jake’s shoulders and gave his tie a tiny tug, straightening it. “This article is very important to me and my charity. Eminence is giving us the November cover story. Where else are we going to get that kind of exposure for free? And here you are, waltzing in like you haven’t got a care in the—”
“Hello, Charlotte,” Mr. Hamilton said, cutting smoothly across his wife and ignoring her tiny huff of disapproval. “Escape from the typing pool, did you?”
Charlotte nodded and smiled. “I did. Much to my surprise.”
“And how’s the boy of yours? Harry, right?” Mr. Hamilton asked. “You showed me his picture on your phone. That was at last year’s Christmas party, wasn’t it?”
Charlotte couldn’t hide her surprise. “Wow. You’ve got a great memory. He’s doing great, thanks.”
Mr. Hamilton favored Charlotte with a benign wink. “You’ll have a hard time finding a Hamilton man who doesn’t remember a pretty face.”
“Well, that’s God’s honest truth,” Mrs. Hamilton muttered.
“Isn’t that right, JJ?” Mr. Hamilton continued.
This harmless question seemed to throw Jake for a loop. Bright arcs
of color crept over his cheeks as his gaze flickered to Charlotte before reverting to his father. He cleared his throat before answering.
“A pretty face is nice, yeah. A pretty face that belongs to an intriguing woman is unforgettable.”
Arrested, Mr. Hamilton stared at his son, and Jake glanced down at his own shoes. Charlotte ignored the sudden prickly heat racing over her skin and refused to search Jake’s comment for any hidden meaning.
Luckily, Mrs. Hamilton’s singsong voice saved the moment from becoming awkward. “Oh, there you are, Azure. Did you two get some good shots of the house?”
A pretty young woman with a willowy frame and the height and confidence of Michelle Obama hurried down the hallway toward the group. Wearing a skirt and heels, she had a clipboard pressed to her chest and a photographer with about fifty pounds of equipment trailing after her.
“We did, indeed. I didn’t realize you have a basketball court, too.”
“Oh, we have a little bit of everything here at Integrity, dear. Let me introduce you to my son, Jake.”
Smiling, the woman shook Jake’s hand. “Great to meet you. I’m Azure Ellison. Eminence magazine. Thanks for letting us into your lovely home for the day.”
Jake, always charming with the ladies, Charlotte noted sourly, smiled, shrugged and shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “We’re thrilled to have you. I’ve got my own place, though. Integrity’s only full-time residents these days are my parents and my sisters.”
Jacob the Second clapped a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “But you visit us whenever you can, don’t you, son?”
“That’s true,” Jake agreed.
“We’re going to take a few more pictures of the grounds,” Azure said, steering her photographer to the front door. “We’ll be back in just a minute.”
Mrs. Hamilton, the picture of matriarchal grace, nodded and flashed a serene smile, reminding Charlotte of England’s queen. “Of course, dear. Let us know if you need anything.”
“Where is everybody?” Jake wondered aloud.
“They’re doing what you should’ve done half an hour ago,” Mrs. Hamilton informed him tartly, resuming her march down the hall. “They’re in the conservatory, getting styled.”
Jake gaped at her. “Styled? What the hell does that mean?”
Mrs. Hamilton pinched Jake’s arm, making him yelp. Scowling, he rubbed the spot and glared at his mother. “Don’t forget to put a twenty in the language jar on your way out,” she said. “It’s in the kitchen now. My charity thanks you for your donation. Here we are.”
They’d arrived in the conservatory, which overlooked the stunning gardens in the back. Tiled and windowed, the space caught every available ray of sunlight, which explained the profusion of tropical plants in all directions. There were palms, orchids, birds of paradise and other spectacular specimens for which Charlotte didn’t know the names.
At the moment, though, the room more closely resembled the chaotic backstage area at a fashion show Charlotte had once seen on a cable entertainment network. There was a makeup table with enough colorful products on it to adorn all the clowns the next time Ringling Bros. came to town. There was also a hair station and a rolling clothes rack that had dark suits—was that a tuxedo?—and various dresses and tops with beads, bangles and sequins in most of the colors of the rainbow.
Three or four stylists scurried back and forth with lint brushes, powder brushes and hairbrushes, looking for people to primp. Their manic energy was enough to make Charlotte want to take a Valium and lie down.
And then there were the Hamiltons, all of whom were lawyers at the firm—except for one cousin—and therefore familiar to her, if only in passing. The room was full of them.
They were sprawled on wrought-iron benches, leaning against pillars and congregated around the food table in the back. They all looked around at the arrival of this new group.
“What’s up, people?” Jake asked no one in particular.
A chorus greeted him. “What’s up, JJ? Jake! Why haven’t you returned my phone calls, Jakey?”
Jake put that same protective hand on the small of Charlotte’s back as all the curious gazes swung around to her. “Everybody, this is my new paralegal, Charlotte Evans. This is her first day with me, so I’m counting on you folks to act like you have some sense. You should be able to fake it for a couple hours while she’s here.”
A round of jeers answered him, making Charlotte laugh.
“Charlotte, you know everybody from the office, right?” Jake pointed to his two handsome brothers, both of whom wore dark suits and slouched against the nearest pillar like bored princes. “The ugly one is Anthony. The smelly one is Marcus.”
“Screw you, man,” Anthony replied, but he had a smile for Charlotte. “Good to see you.”
“Thank you for that vulgarity, Tony,” Mrs. Hamilton called. “Kindly deposit your twenty dollars in the language jar on the way out.”
Anthony rolled his eyes. Marcus guffawed.
“And I’ll take twenty dollars from you as well, Marcus,” Mrs. Hamilton added. “For general principles.”
Both brothers glowered at their mother. They kept their mouths shut, though.
“And, Charlotte, you know my sisters, right?” Jake asked, pointing to two women—younger versions of Mrs. Hamilton, which made them elegant and beautiful—sitting on the nearest bench enjoying snacks. “Jillian is the bossy one and Marissa is the snippy one. But you probably know that from work already.”
Marissa offered a vague smile and a wave. Jillian, meanwhile, took a carrot from the plate in her lap, lobbed it at Jake without comment, and hit him squarely in the forehead.
“Ow,” Jake complained.
“Impressive aim,” Charlotte said, trying to smother her laugh.
“Why, thank you, Charlotte,” Jillian said, waving hello. “And by the way, you need to tell this jackass—”
“Twenty dollars from you, missy,” Mrs. Hamilton interjected.
“—that being a paralegal doesn’t include being dragged to photo shoots,” Jillian went on, not dignifying her mother’s command with a response. “I’m pretty sure that’s not in your job description.” She turned to her sister. “Are you going to let this pass without comment? I thought you’d be the first one to haul Jake to the woodshed for having an employee do something outside their normal duties. Hello? Marissa? I’m talking to you!”
Marissa, who’d lapsed into staring at the far wall and biting a fingernail, gave a start and looked around at Jillian. “What?”
“Your brother Jake, here—” Jillian began again.
Charlotte waved her hands, stopping her. “No one needs to go to the woodshed,” she said quickly, before the dispute escalated. Anything was possible where siblings were concerned. “I’m glad to be out of the office for a while.”
“Ha!” Jake flashed a smug smile at his sisters. “You got anything else to throw at me?”
“Yeah, actually.” Standing, Marissa marched up to Jake and pointed her finger in his face. Jake apparently took this as a bad sign, because he held up his hands in a gesture of surrender before she even got started. “What did you do to Rosalyn? She says you won’t return her phone calls. Now she won’t return my phone calls. What gives? What’d you do to her? Didn’t I tell you to stay away from my friends?”
All movement in the room seemed to stop as everyone cocked their ears to hear Jake’s response to this charge. Charlotte, feeling the strange twist of something unwelcome and ugly inside her, dropped her gaze so that no one would see her turmoil, but not before Jake glanced her way, as though he cared about her reaction to this accusation.
Please, Charlotte reminded herself. As if.
A guilty flush crept over Jake’s cheeks but, to his credit, he stood his ground. “Let’s talk about that later, Mar. Right
now, I’m wondering why you look green around the gills. You sick?”
Charlotte had just been wondering the same thing; Marissa’s color was definitely off. But apparently she was one of those never-admit-to-weakness types, because she swelled with outrage.
“First of all, there’s nothing wrong with me, okay?” Marissa snapped. “Second, we’ll talk about it now so I can figure out how to smooth things over with my friend.”
“Yeah, JJ.” Marcus, who was selecting a potato chip with great care, paused to regard Jake with wide-eyed interest. “Inquiring minds want to know.”
“My mind is inquiring,” Tony said. “What about your mind, Jill?”
“My mind is flat-out nosy,” Jill said.
“Children, we do not have time for this,” Mrs. Hamilton said.
“Sure we do,” Mr. Hamilton said, one heavy brow quirked with amusement. “Jake?”
Lobbing an I’ll get you later glare at Marissa, Jake shrugged and told his tale. “She called me after I ran into you ladies at the club.”
“Right...?” Marissa said.
Jake’s tone became more clipped. “We had drinks. It wasn’t a love match, so I didn’t present her with a red rose. She’s called a couple more times, but I haven’t called her back because I don’t want to lead her on. End of story.”
“I knew it!” Marissa cried with dark triumph. “You and your drive-by hookups do more damage—”
“We didn’t hook up,” Jake shouted. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”
“If you’d just keep it in your pants once in a while― Wait, what?” Marissa ran out of steam with a whoosh. “You...didn’t hook up?”
“No.” Unmistakable anger flashed in Jake’s eyes. “And you owe me an apology, don’t you think?”
“No. I don’t think.” Marissa hiked up her chin and went on the offensive. “With your track record, you can’t blame me for assuming the worst.”
“I’m waiting,” Jake said, his jaw tight.
Marissa’s anger stalled out. “Sorry,” she muttered.
“For what?” Jake pressed.
Case for Seduction (Kimani Romance) Page 7
