by Rowe, Julie
“Of course.”
She was almost afraid to ask, “How often?”
“When it was required.”
“Required?” She threw her hands in the air. “No wonder you can’t keep a girlfriend. Women need to hear how you feel about them far more often than men realize. You can’t tell people the truth as you see it and to hell with their feelings.”
“Why not? No one gives a shit about mine.”
“Wait a minute.” She pointed an index finger at his face. “Do you hide behind the truth?”
“How can anyone hide behind the truth?”
“Stating a fact isn’t the same as telling someone you love them or that they look great. Take the man who sent me flowers. He didn’t have to do it and it certainly wasn’t required, but he thanked me anyway and I’ll probably never throw that bit of poetry away.”
Alex blinked. “You liked it that much?”
“Women like to be told how much they matter. How important they are to their man. It isn’t about how she looks, it’s about how beautiful you find her.”
“Give me a minute,” he said dryly. “I only just discovered I need a personality makeover.”
That made her chuckle. “See, you can be charming when you want to.”
“I shall endeavor to keep it up.” He stared at her with enough heat in his gaze to start a blush on her cheeks.
She decided to give both of them a break and change the subject. “Tell me more about this dinner. Do you think your grandmother will try the personality test on me?”
“Without a doubt.”
“Does she know I’m coming with you in exchange for representing me?”
“Of course not.”
“Is it okay if I tell her?” Calla asked. Now that she’d had time to think, the idea of lying to his grandmother left her with a sour taste in her mouth.
“Just her. I want to keep the rest of my family guessing.”
“That won’t be a problem.”
Maybe her smile was too wide, or maybe he saw the hesitation in her gaze. Whatever the reason, he said, “You like causing trouble, don’t you, Doc?”
“What can I say, I don’t get out much, but when I do…” She shrugged. “You might enjoy it in a purely spectator sort of way.”
He shook his head at her and asked, “Any more tea?”
She glanced down. Her cup was empty. When had that happened? “No, thank you, that was lovely. I do have a request, though.”
“What’s that?” he asked as he got up and put their cups in the sink.
“Help me figure out a way for me to go home without the press getting in my way.”
He winced. “They aren’t going to go away.”
That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “But…”
“Those guys are relentless. Believe me, I know,” Alex said with a grimace. “How about you crash in my spare room for tonight? You can put your car in my garage and no one will know you’re here.”
“And tomorrow?” She couldn’t hide out forever, or even for very long.
“We can go for a cupcake run and then you can either spend time at the clinic or my house until it’s time to go to dinner.”
Calla glanced down at herself. “And my clothes?”
“What you’re wearing now is great.” He gave her a once-over that left her hot and bothered. “I can loan you a shirt to sleep in if you’d like.”
“That sounds like a reasonable plan.”
“Of course it does, I’m a very reasonable kind of guy.”
She rolled her eyes. “Not humble, though.”
He showed her where the spare room was, across the hall from his master suite. He also gave her a tour of the rest of the house and left her to watch some television while he worked in his home office.
Alex Hardy surprised her. Not once. Not twice, but repeatedly. She’d thought him arrogant, insensitive, and ruthless. Sometimes he was all those things. When dealing with the press, certainly, and with good reason. She didn’t know how he kept from punching people who asked stupid questions over and over.
But, he was also generous and strong. Protective, even.
He hadn’t liked that a stranger had sent her flowers and wrote her a poem that had lifted her spirits just when they needed the boost.
Too bad he hadn’t sent her the flowers and poem. He’d be as close to her perfect man as anyone could get.
When she got tired, she entered the spare room and found a man’s T-shirt and a pair of sweats on the bed. She undressed and put on his clothes. They were warm and as she snuggled under the blankets, she wondered what he wore to bed.
And for some strange and terrifying reason, she had to fight the urge to go into his room and find out.
The next morning, Alex took her to Colin’s Cupcake Shop, but it had a line of patrons out the door and down the street, waiting to go inside. Alex dropped her off so she could get in line, then left to find a parking space. Fifteen minutes later she was still in line, though a lot closer to the door.
“I had to park three blocks away,” Alex said as he joined her. “There isn’t a space to be found around here.
“I’ve been people watching,” she told him in a whisper. “Bikers, preachers, and poets all seem to like cupcakes.”
“Baking is the great equalizer.”
She laughed. “Frosting is my favorite part.”
He nudged her with a shoulder and asked, “Chocolate or vanilla?”
“Oh, do I have to pick just one?”
He sighed. “That answer tells me you’re too far gone to help.”
“Yes, I have to agree.” Calla stared at the cupcakes through the front windows of the store and licked her lips. “I’m not ever going to give up my sweets.”
“You, a sweet tooth?” One of Alex’s eyebrows raised. “I’ll have to remember that the next time you’re angry with me.”
“Are you kidding? I’ve got a mouthful. If it weren’t for all the stress I go through, I’d weigh a lot more than I do.”
The shoulder next to hers tensed and he asked carefully, “Stress?”
“My job isn’t all sweetness and light. I’ve seen…horrific things.”
Her vision narrowed and for a long moment she was back there, sitting in the driver’s seat of the family van, pinned by twisted metal. In the passenger seat next to her was her father, dead. In the backseat, her mother and brother were too quiet, too still. The bitter smell of blood and burned rubber assaulted her nose.
She opened her mouth to scream.
“Calla? Calla!”
Someone jostled her and jerked her out of the memory.
“Calla, are you okay?” Alex held her by the arms as if he were holding her up. Maybe he was. “Say something or I’m calling an ambulance.”
She concentrated on focusing her sight on his face and muttered, “Drama king.”
His frown deepened and he asked slowly, “What was that?”
“Flashback,” she answered. Her hands were still shaking. “Sorry. I haven’t had one like that for a couple of years.”
“Post-traumatic stress?” He glanced around at the line and took a step to pull them out, but she resisted.
“We don’t need to leave.”
“Are you sure?”
“I won’t let PTSD stop me from living my life.” She let out another deep breath and said, “It doesn’t only happen to soldiers and cops.” It wasn’t just her hands, her whole body was shaking. If she didn’t find somewhere to calm down, somewhere safe, it was only going to get worse.
“I triggered it?”
“Sort of.” He shifted closer to her, and in the close quarters of the line, his warmth and scent surrounded her it was like coming home. Hot dog, a mobile safe haven. She wanted to lean into him and soak up more of his heat.
How could she feel that way about him? He wasn’t safe, not at all, yet here he was, helping her in ways that continued to surprise her.
Could she rely on him, trust him?
She didn’t know, and that uncertainty shook her as much as the flashback she’d just had.
His hand brushed hers and he leaned down to say quietly in her ear, “You have to tell me what not to say, so I don’t trigger you again.”
She made herself slide away a half step, her heart and her brain at odds with taking comfort from him. “It’s not that easy an answer. Lots of things can trigger a flashback. Smells, sounds, the light hitting my face the wrong way. My parents’ accident… The stress from the last couple of days must have put me on a hair trigger.”
“I’m sorry.” His voice rumbled out of his chest and it chased away her demons a little more.
Calla took hold of her confused emotions and tried to stuff them into a box in the back of her brain. Careful, the last time you let your guard down with a man who seemed perfect, he tore your heart in half and stole from you. “Thank you. Your growly voice is very good at chasing off the monsters that lurk in the dark corners of my head.”
His laugh was a vibrating drum inside his chest that calmed the shaking of her body. “Ah ha, now I know your weakness. A deep, growling voice.”
“Yep, give me a man with a sexy bass any day.” Good grief, why did she say that? Now he was going to think she was coming on to him.
He glanced at her with a devilish gleam in his gaze. “Do sexy men buy cupcakes?”
She looked around at the people in the line. “I see one or two.”
He laughed. It boomed out of him and made her smile despite the terrible day she was having.
Calla bumped his arm with her shoulder. “You’re not the big, bad lawyer the tabloids make you out to be.”
He leaned over to whisper, “Don’t tell anyone or my reputation will be ruined.”
That made her chuckle more.
A minute later they were able to put in her order for two dozen cupcakes. When the girl behind the counter asked what kind, Calla replied, “Surprise me.”
“Risk taker,” Alex said into her ear on a growl.
A shiver raced over her body. His voice should be illegal. “Hey, only when it comes to cupcakes and dinner parties. I’m extremely conservative the rest of the time.”
Two boxes of baked confections in hand, they left the busy shop and walked to the corner. Both car and foot traffic were heavy.
“I don’t want you to have to fight this crowd,” Alex said. “I’ll get the car. Wait here for me. I won’t be more than five minutes.”
“Okay.” Relief warmed her, chasing off the last of the cold chill left behind by the flashback. She shooed him away with one hand.
He gave her a long look, then nodded and strode away.
Calla retreated from the middle of the sidewalk and stood in front of the bistro next to the cupcake shop. Throngs of people passed by. This must be a popular area of the city.
She was watching a couple argue when she realized someone had come to a stop next to her.
“Two dozen cupcakes?”
She turned. A man in a ball cap and sunglasses smiled at her. A man who looked familiar. “Who’s the lucky guy you’re trying to impress?” he asked.
“Little old lady, actually.”
He laughed. “Really?”
“Really.” It was the laugh that gave him away. He was famous for it, a husky sound that on screen sounded sensual. Jeff MacKay.
Yuck. In real life, that laugh did nothing for her. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” she asked in a tone that made it plain she thought he was an idiot.
His smile dimmed a little. “Idea?”
“Wandering around in public with no security. If you’re recognized you’ll be mobbed.”
He took a half step closer to her. “The only person I want to recognize me is you, Calla Roberts.”
Wonderful, he knew who she was. She backed away, putting a little more space between them, wishing she could walk away altogether.
He followed. “I’ve been wanting to meet you for a while now.”
“Why? I’m no one.”
MacKay pursed his lips and said, “You have a passion for helping people and I respect that.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, and I’d like to help.”
Help? She couldn’t wait to hear the fine print on this. “Help how?”
“Bring more media attention to the philanthropic work you do here in LA and in other countries. What’s that group you work with? Doctors for the World? Between us, we could do a lot of good for a lot of people.”
“That’s very generous of you.” Despite the disguise, his satisfied smirk transformed him from handsome to repulsive. She had to force herself to stay where she was and not back away from him again. “What do you want in return for your endorsement?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? At all? Ever?”
“Nothing at all. Though…” He let his voice trail off. “You’re scheduled to give your expert testimony next Monday during a certain court case you and I are both involved with.”
Here it comes. “Are you asking me to lie?”
“Of course not. I would be forever grateful, however, if you treated me…gently in your testimony.”
Gently? If he wasn’t careful, she’d give him gently right in the nose. “Why don’t you have your lawyer call my lawyer? His name is Alex Hardy.”
MacKay’s pleasant expression disappeared entirely. “I know who he is, do you? His track record isn’t great.”
“He’s honest and very thorough,” she said from between clenched teeth.
MacKay snorted and said in a hard tone, “He’s eccentric and rude. I wonder how that will look to a jury. He’s also known for dating his clients.”
Calla’s hands clenched on the cupcake box. “I…you…this conversation is finished.”
He froze for a long moment, then said in his trademark husky tone, “I’m sorry if I offended you.”
She looked at him. He was smiling the same smile he had in every movie she’d ever seen him in and it made her sick to her stomach.
She searched the road, looking for Alex. Where was he?
“You know,” he said, pouring on the charm. “I could send a lot of business your way.”
She stepped away from him again. “I’m afraid I’m all booked up.”
“Are you sure?” Before she could answer, he said in a tone that didn’t carry, “Be sure, Calla. We could do a lot of good together.”
She blinked. “Do you ever shut the bullshit off?”
He opened his mouth to reply, but a car horn interrupted.
Alex.
Calla started moving before the second honk had died away.
“Wait,” MacKay said, reaching out.
She didn’t slow down or answer, but rushed to the car pulled up at the curb.
Alex opened the door from the inside and she practically dove in. Calla glanced at MacKay as they pulled away. He’d taken his sunglasses off and his friendly face was gone, leaving an ugly, angry expression that made her shrink into her seat.
…
Alex stared at Calla’s pale face and then looked at the man who’d been reaching out to her. “What’s wr— Is that Jeff MacKay?”
She clutched the box of cupcakes to her chest. “He showed up right after you left to get the car.”
“Did he say or do anything threatening?” Alex demanded. Throttle back buddy, Calla needs you.
He put his hand on her knee. He shouldn’t be touching her, but he found himself unable to resist the need to make physical contact. “Tell me everything MacKay said and did. Don’t leave anything out.”
Calla cocked her head. “You think he hunted me down on purpose?”
“Yes.” Hell yes he did. Alex squeezed his hands around the steering wheel, wishing it was MacKay’s neck.
“So do I.” Calla sounded so grim. “I discovered something about him during our conversation.”
“What’s that?”
“He’s not nearly as good looking as he thinks he is.” She wiped o
ne hand on her pants as if she’d touched something slimy.
“No?”
“Everything about him is fake. His smile, his nose, his carefully crafted casual stance. It’s all been created to portray a man who doesn’t exist.”
“You can tell his nose has been worked on?”
She glanced at him with one eyebrow raised. “Of course I can. He’s used some Botox here and there on his face as well.” She shook her head. “It’s sad, really.”
“Don’t feel sorry for him,” Alex told her. “He’ll use it against you at the first opportunity. Did he offer you anything?”
“All kinds of things. He mentioned helping the less fortunate and throwing some work my way. I declined. If I hadn’t been in such a public place, I would have been tempted to punch him in his perfect nose.”
“Try not to do that. He’d sue.”
“He would, wouldn’t he?” Her hands opened and closed on the box. “Huh, don’t worry, I’ll keep my hands to myself if I run into him again.”
“What exactly happened? I need to know what was said.”
“He was very cagey, but eventually asked if I would treat him gently when I’m on the stand next Monday.” She sounded disgusted.
“You refused.”
“Oh yeah.”
MacKay was worried about something. “Public humiliation is this guy’s Achilles’ heel.”
“I agree. He was not happy.”
“We can use that.”
“Spoken like a lawyer.” She still sounded disgusted.
“I am a lawyer.”
“I know, I just thought…” She blew a breath out and shrugged. “Never mind.”
“What?”
“You’re also a…guy.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
She was silent for several seconds before saying, “You sounded a lot like him. You both use people.” She whipped her head around to stare at him. “Why do men do that? Use people?”
“I’m not using—”
She cut him off. “You’re using me to get your family off your back.”
“I’m also giving something of value in return.” He frowned. This couldn’t be just about him and Jeff MacKay. “You said men. Who else?”
“Never mind,” she mumbled.
“Calla?”
“I’m sorry. Forget I said anything. I’m very irritated right now.”
