The Last Marchetti Bachelor

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The Last Marchetti Bachelor Page 2

by Teresa Southwick


  “But you dated Nick.”

  “That was before I was handpicked to handle your company’s legal business. Now there’s a huge potential for conflict of interest.”

  “There’s no conflict. I’m definitely interested.”

  “Be serious, Luke.”

  “I’ve never been more serious. I don’t see how us being friends would be a problem.”

  “Because you’re not a lawyer. At the very least, a close personal association with a client suggests the appearance of impropriety. And even if I believed in love, it would be unprofessional of me to continue seeing you. I’m nothing if not professional.”

  His gaze raked her from head to toe. “In jeans and T-shirt you look about eighteen. But denim on you in court would sway judge, jury and opposing male counsel to whatever you were selling.”

  “You’re not helping,” she said, blushing furiously.

  “Good. I hope I’m making it hard as hell for you to dismiss me.”

  “I’m not dismissing you. But all we can achieve is a friendly working relationship.”

  “We achieved way more than that. And we can’t go back, Maddie.”

  Yes, she could. And there was no time like the present. “The name is Madison.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since we woke up in bed together.”

  Four weeks after Maddie—correction Madison—had shut him down, Luke sat in his office trying to focus on the spreadsheet program staring at him from his computer screen.

  It was almost quitting time, but his bachelor condo held little appeal. And his thoughts kept straying to a petite, green-eyed redhead, her shoulder-length hair curly and wild after he’d run his hands through it.

  He leaned back in his leather chair, linking his fingers before resting his hands on his abdomen. He was CFO of Marchetti’s Incorporated. The family restaurant business was thriving, and he had a million things to do. But even the word spreadsheet brought visions of him and Maddie tangling her bedsheets into his mind, in direct competition with his concentration. Four weeks, for God’s sake. She’d made it clear that they had no chance. Why couldn’t he get her off his mind?

  He was over thirty. He’d known lots of women. He’d done more than his share of dating and a good percentage of those dates had ended up with him spending the night. But he’d easily forgotten them. Why not Maddie? And, dammit, she would never be Madison to him. Frustration curled and knotted in his belly. Did a redhead’s legendary temper spill over into stubbornness? Because she’d picked a hell of a time to display it. What was wrong with having a friendship? He knew better than to ask for forever after.

  He got the feeling that her hesitation to get involved went deeper than she’d told him. He supposed it could have something to do with him, with the fact that he was the black sheep of the family. The only one with blue eyes, more keep-to-himself than outgoing, and the only one just under six feet tall. Except for his sister, Rosie. The point was, he was different. He figured he’d caught a recessive gene not to fall in love; therefore, home, hearth, family wasn’t in the cards for him.

  So why should Maddie take a chance on a guy like that? Especially after her relationship with his brother had fizzled?

  Still, Luke would bet his Marchetti’s Incorporated stock options that Maddie had been telling the truth about not being heartbroken. After discovering she was a virgin, he was even more convinced. Or was that just wishful thinking?

  The intercom on his desk buzzed, startling him from his thoughts. He leaned over and punched the button. “Yes?”

  “Miss Wainright to see you,” his secretary said. “And I’m leaving for the day.”

  Just the sound of her name booted up his pulse. “Send her in,” he answered, trying to keep the hot-damn-I-can’t-believe-she’s-here tone out of his voice. “Have a nice evening, Cathy.”

  “Thank you,” she answered before clicking off.

  Maybe Maddie had changed her mind and they could achieve more than a friendly working relationship. What other reason could she have for coming to his office? Glancing at his computer monitor, he was reminded that she had been handpicked by a senior partner to handle his family’s legal affairs. There could be a dozen things other than his scintillating personality and animal magnetism that had brought her here. She was unpredictable; the night spent in his arms was proof of that.

  He’d best not count on anything with the enigmatic Ms. Wainright. Until notified to the contrary, he would assume she’d come to see him about business concerning Marchetti’s Incorporated. The more business they did together, the sooner he would be able to get her out of his mind. That’s the way it always worked for him.

  His office door opened, and the counselor in question walked in. “Hello, Luke.”

  “Hi.” He stood up. His father had drilled it into all four of the Marchetti boys to stand when a lady entered the room.

  “Do you have a minute?” she asked.

  “Of course. Take a seat,” he said holding out a hand to indicate the leather wing chairs in front of his desk.

  He’d rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt to just below his elbows first thing that morning and loosened his tie. He resisted the urge to straighten it and button his cuffs. With Maddie, he’d experienced an unforgettable, intimate night. He was a loner, not charming like his brothers. He’d learned forever wasn’t in the cards for him. But he couldn’t shut the door on the present, either. No way were the barriers going back up between them. At least on his part.

  In fact, he figured it couldn’t hurt to remind her. “To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from the golden girl of Addison, Abernathy and Cooke?”

  The color in her cheeks deepened to a becoming rose, and he knew his barb had produced the desired result. Her blush highlighted her soft skin and the freckles dotting her nose. He liked the way she couldn’t quite hide them with makeup. There were exactly six. He knew because he’d kissed every last one.

  She was still standing halfway between the closed door and his desk. Her hesitation to come closer and to answer him put a bump in his ego road, slowing it down. In fact he became uneasy. Usually direct, forthright and no-nonsense—the fact of her virginity being the only exception—this was a Maddie he’d never seen before. Her restrained behavior was unusual. Not to mention the worry puckering her forehead.

  “It’s nice to see you, Maddie.”

  She flinched. “I asked you to call me Madison.”

  “I remember.” He’d always been good with figures, but hers was his favorite. He recalled every curve, every square inch of silky, sweet-smelling skin in spite of the tailored green suit she wore with the jacket buttoned to her neck. “So what brings you here? Business or pleasure?”

  “It’s personal, Luke.”

  Was she finally beginning to see things his way? She wasn’t exactly wearing the expression of a woman looking to pick up where they’d left off. In fact, she looked pale, and tired.

  “What is it, Maddie? Are you okay? You look like someone died.”

  “Someone did.”

  His chest felt tight and he had trouble drawing in air. The names of his loved ones flashed through his mind. Ma, Dad, Nick, Joe, Alex, Rosie, their spouses, his niece and nephew. Then common sense asserted itself. If something had happened to one of them, Maddie wouldn’t be standing in front of him with the news. Come to think of it, as long as his family was fine, he couldn’t see that he had much of an emotional investment in the person she was here to discuss. In fact, he’d go it one better. Whoever had died couldn’t directly affect him, so whatever had brought her here after four long weeks was a lucky break for him.

  He took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll bite. Who died?”

  She swallowed once, then walked toward him. Finally she sat down in one of the chairs facing his desk and set her briefcase on the floor beside her. “I don’t know how to tell you this.”

  “Just spit it out. Who died?”

  She swallowed twice, then looked him
straight in the eye. “Your father. Not Tom Marchetti,” she added quickly.

  “Since I’m not adopted, I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”

  “There’s no easy way to say this. Tom Marchetti is not your biological father, Luke. The man who is—was—your father passed away.”

  Chapter Two

  “You’re joking,” Luke said.

  She flinched a little at the politely disbelieving expression on his face. “I wish I were.”

  “This isn’t funny, Maddie.”

  She didn’t have the heart to bust him for using the nickname. Although she would never admit it, she liked it when he called her that. “I know. Believe me, I’m as shocked as you are.”

  “Who said I was shocked? Except about the fact that you would lie.”

  She let out a long breath and shook her head, kicking herself for the umpteenth time because she’d let her libido loose and allowed it to run away with her. A random act of passion was like a pebble tossed into a pond, rippling outward and touching so much more than that one tiny spot. She just hadn’t realized that it was a really big pond or exactly how far those ripples could touch.

  “Do the words conflict of interest ring a bell? This is the reason it’s not a good idea for an attorney to sleep with her client,” she snapped.

  The words were out before she’d thought them through. How she wished she could call them back, because the last thing she wanted to bring up for discussion was that night, the most unforgettable hours of her life.

  “I don’t see what one has to do with the other,” he said.

  “Then I’ll explain it to you. If our association hadn’t taken a personal turn, you would have no reason to mistrust me or question my behavior, or accuse me of lying.”

  “Sure I would. You’re telling me that Tom Marchetti is not my father. That my mother slept with another man and I’m the result. My parents have been happily married for thirty-five years. This is the most preposterous thing I’ve ever heard. It has to be a lie.”

  “Come on, Luke. Think for a minute. This would be a stupid thing to fabricate. It’s too easy to find out the truth. Besides, this is my work. It’s my livelihood and my life. I take that very seriously. It’s my fiduciary responsibility to handle this client’s last will and testament. That’s what I’m doing.”

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll assume for a minute that you’re telling the truth. Which means you’ve known about this. Do the words lie of omission mean anything to you? At the very least, I thought we were friends. But you never said a word to me about this.”

  “Number one, if I had drawn up the will, I would have been bound by client confidentiality not to reveal the terms. Number two, I inherited this file when Jim Mallery retired. He recommended that I take over his clients, including this one. But I didn’t know anything about this until the firm received the news about Brad Stephenson’s death.”

  “That’s his name?”

  “Your father’s?” she asked.

  “My father is Tom Marchetti.” His mouth tightened into a stubborn, angry line.

  “In every way that counts—yes, he is your father. But not biologically.”

  “Give it up, Maddie. This is ridiculous. And even if it wasn’t, why should I believe you?”

  “The will Brad Stephenson had drawn up and on file with my firm is proof,” she answered.

  “Let me see it,” he demanded, holding out his hand.

  Madison noticed that his fingers shook. “I didn’t bring it with me. I’m here as your friend as well as an attorney. When you’ve had a chance to absorb what I’ve told you, we’ll discuss the terms at the office. And we are friends, in spite of what you may think. That’s why I’m here in person. News this sensitive couldn’t be delivered over the phone.”

  She saw several emotions cross his face and named every one: anger, disbelief, shock, betrayal and back to disbelief. This news would take time to assimilate. More passionate ripples on the proverbial pond. Her heart ached for him, and she wished she could put her arms around him and just hold him. But attorneys dealt in facts, not feelings. And she needed to keep this professional, not personal.

  He speared her with a skeptical look. “So the only proof you can give me is your word that some wacko, who retained the services of an attorney from your firm, left something to me in his will. Does that about sum it up?”

  “I would alter some of your wording slightly, but in essence your assessment is correct.”

  “You know, if you were upset about what happened between us, Maddie, all you had to do was say so.”

  She took a deep breath and folded her arms over her abdomen. “It’s been a month, Luke.” Please don’t let him read anything into the fact that she knew exactly how long it had been. “If I was upset, don’t you think you would know before this?”

  “I’m not sure what you would do,” he answered. “Creating such an elaborate fabrication—”

  “I understand that this is a shock, Luke,” she said, interrupting. She’d developed a thick skin over the years, trying not to let things hurt. Like the fact that her parents didn’t want her. That she would never be enough to make them love her. But it hurt her a lot that Luke could believe for even a moment that she would make up a lie this hurtful to get even for something. His low opinion was like a physical blow, and she had no idea why it should matter so much to her.

  She met his gaze squarely. “Taking it out on me won’t get you anywhere.” She reached into her suit jacket for the business card she’d put there. Leaning forward, she set it on his desk. “That’s the number for one of the firm’s associates. When you’re ready, give him a call, and he’ll advise you in this matter.”

  “What about you?” he asked.

  She shook her head slightly. “I’ll plead workload as an excuse to bow out. It’s the most discreet way to handle the situation. No one has to know about us.”

  “What if I still want you?” His question was almost a growl, but the sensual undertone made her shiver.

  She still wanted him.

  She looked into his eyes, wondering if she was reading her own need and longing into his expression, his words, even though there was an edge to his voice that she’d never heard.

  “The fact that you could even entertain the notion I’m lying indicates that you don’t have confidence in me. You can trust Nathan McDonald completely,” she said, lifting her chin to indicate the card she’d given him. Why had she thought he knew her at all? If he did, he wouldn’t have accused her of something so slimy. “Nathan is the firm’s expert in this sort of thing. I’ll fill him in on the pertinent information and let him familiarize himself with the contents of the will. I’ll let him know you’ll be in touch.”

  Touch. The word evoked images of his hands gliding over her skin, raising tingles in their wake. Countless times since that magical night the memories had taunted her. Just one of her many punishments for breaking a cardinal rule. She blinked the seductive vision away.

  “What makes you think I’ll call?” he asked.

  “Because you’re not the kind of man who will let this slide. You’re going to want answers. And they’ll have to come from your mother. When you get them, you’ll call,” she finished, nodding confidently. She curled her fingers around the handles of her briefcase and started to stand.

  “Ma is going to be pretty upset about these accusations—” He stopped when she gripped the arms of the chair and lowered herself into it again. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded. “A little dizzy. I forgot to eat lunch. Give me a minute, and I’ll leave you alone.”

  He stood up. “You look white as a sheet. Are you sure you’re okay?” His brow furrowed with worry as he rounded his desk and stopped in front of her. “Maybe I should drive you somewhere,” he said, putting his warm palm to her forehead.

  The touch felt wonderful. A glow started in her abdomen and quickly spread north and south. He was worried about her. No one worried about her. Her
mother had made it clear she’d been an inconvenient accident. Her parents were always too much into their own lives and grooming her older brother to take over the family business to concern themselves with her. And if a problem arose, boarding school personnel did their job just enough to avoid liability.

  But she knew Luke’s concern was offered instinctively—good news and bad. It meant that he was a kind and decent man.

  But he was also a client, one who had avoided marriage for this long. That fact spoke volumes. It seemed clear to her that he didn’t want the responsibility of worrying about any woman on a permanent basis. And her parents hadn’t wanted her, why would anyone else? No, she didn’t want anything personal or permanent, either. There was too much potential for pain. Which was the main reason she’d shut the door on anything between them, after she’d given in to temptation and spent those hours in his arms. She had learned to count only on herself; she was committed to advancing her career.

  Their one night of passion had destroyed the chance of any relationship between them, either friendship or business. When she’d brought him this unbelievable news, his first thought was that she’d lied. She understood that he was reeling from what she’d told him, but she couldn’t help being hurt that he could entertain the idea of her stooping so low, even for a moment.

  What would he say if he knew there was more? Would he believe her? She didn’t have the words, the heart, the courage to tell him what she suspected. Not now. But she would tell him. When she had confirmation.

  “Maddie?” he asked. “You zoned out. Are you sure you’re all right? Maybe I should take you home.”

  “No, thanks.”

  The last time he’d done that was what had gotten her into this conflict of interest in the first place. Now she was the least of his concerns. When he talked to his mother, and she knew he would, the facts would come out, because Flo Marchetti was an honest person, one of the finest women Madison had ever known. Studying the law had taught her that there were always mitigating circumstances. In spite of the way this looked, she hoped Luke would open his mind to those circumstances in order to find understanding and forgiveness.

 

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