The Charm Offensive

by Cari Lynn Webb

  “Dog ball?” Drew repeated.

  “It’s a fund-raiser to benefit service and therapy dogs.” There. Now he sounded convincing—no skepticism had leaked into his tone.

  Drew set his elbows on his knees and inched forward. “Good cause.”

  “Mom offered her theater seats to the silent auction and demanded reservations at the event.” She hadn’t fully endorsed the bash with a sponsorship check. But then she hadn’t denounced Sophie as a fraud, either. That she’d apparently leave for Brad. That chocolate knot heaved sideways in his stomach, as if rebelling against the idea of proving Sophie a fraud.

  “Mom wants to attend?” Drew scooped out another handful of candy and seemed to be considering Brad.

  “Any idea why?”

  “Doesn’t matter to me.” Drew shrugged. “How can I get tickets?”

  “Not you, too,” Brad said. “This isn’t some sideshow for our family’s entertainment. This event means a lot to Sophie.” At least she’d seemed passionate about it, determined enough to ask for a meeting with his mother. Resolved enough not to cancel it. But he’d seen cons put on worthy acting performances before. And he’d discovered that people who built their reality around their own lies were often the most convincing. Was Sophie just a convincing liar? His heart deemed him the liar while his head commanded that he look at the facts.

  “I’m not joking.” Drew tossed another candy at Brad. “How can I get tickets?”

  “There’s supposed to be a link on the Pampered Pooch website.” The link was definitely there. Brad had confirmed that several days ago. He’d also confirmed that gala registrations dropped into a database and the payments into a separate third-party PayPal account. He rubbed his stomach. He’d never questioned his methods or tactics on any case prior to this. He wasn’t about to start now.

  Drew nodded and typed on his phone.

  His brother couldn’t be serious. He wasn’t letting his entire family get conned by Sophie’s dream fund-raiser. “Aren’t you supposed to be preparing for trial next week?”

  “Continuance.” Drew never looked up from his phone screen. “Nice website.”

  Brad ignored that comment. “Does Mom know you’ve got some free time?”

  Drew tossed his phone on the desk. A broad smile stretched across his face. “Thanks to your impromptu visit this morning, there hasn’t been a chance to discuss anything else like my impending trial or personal schedule.”

  “Glad I could help.” There was nothing pleasant about his voice.

  “I figure I have Sophie to thank.” Drew’s smile spread wider.

  “So you want to repay her by attending her dog ball?” He wasn’t able to rein in the disbelief.

  “You could’ve saved yourself a visit with Mom if you’d called me first.” Drew tipped his head and studied Brad, as if he expected Brad to know already what he was referring to.

  Once again Brad was missing something. And with Sophie Callahan involved, that seemed to be his MO lately. “Because you’ve suddenly developed an interest in helping the service-dog community?”

  “Wow, you’re either really distracted by one Sophie Callahan or your mind has already set sail on the Seeker.” Drew rubbed his chin and watched Brad. His brother was a good cross-examiner, patient and thoughtful, yet insightful and forceful. Drew wasn’t one of the top attorneys in the city by accident.

  But Brad was good, too. One of the best in his field. And he schooled his expression, neither confirming nor denying his brother’s allegation. He certainly hadn’t set sail. That might’ve been the simpler option at this point. And distracted by Sophie... He’d never admit that, even to his brother.

  Drew stretched out his long legs and leaned back in the chair as if he’d settled in for an evening marathon session of some legal TV drama. “How’s the boat?”

  “Still in dry dock,” Brad said. His brother was giving him a chance to remember something and he was failing. Quite miserably.

  “Must be Sophie Callahan causing your brain lapse, then.” Drew laughed. “Two years ago you attended a wedding for the son of one of your biggest clients. I believe there was a certain brunette in the bridal party who occupied your attention most of the evening.”

  Now a certain blonde seemed to occupy all of Brad’s attention, even his dreams. “I’ve been to over a dozen weddings for—”

  “But this one featured a golden Lab,” Drew said. “A therapy dog named Sadie. She walked the aisle with the bride.”

  Brad sat back. How could he have forgotten that? “They’d make perfect sponsors.”

  “Yes,” Drew said. “I’ll even make it happen in exchange for a favor.”

  His family had always operated on the quid pro quo system; that was the Harrington way. However, helping his brother had never been a hardship or a burden. But then again, they never asked each other—the support was always there, no questions asked.

  Brad clenched the leather armrests. Maybe that was what set him on edge now. His brother wouldn’t have asked before. “You’re sounding a bit too much like Mom, and the instinct to refuse is suddenly very strong.”

  “You might be on the verge of your sabbatical, but you haven’t lost your instincts yet.” Drew chuckled. “Why are you here anyway? I thought they’d have locked up your office by now.”

  Brad must have looked offended or surprised.

  Drew flicked his arms wide. “It isn’t as if you had anything to pack up. There isn’t one personal item in this sterile square box you call an office.”

  Brad glanced around. He didn’t have vintage furniture like his mother or fake happy family photos of his adorable pets littering the shelves. He didn’t even have a plant on the window ledge or a miniature water fountain to soothe visitors. He worked here—he didn’t live here.

  Of course, his old apartment had looked much the same, or so Evie had always accused. Sterile and cold, she’d called it. But that didn’t matter. Soon he’d have a boat and ocean sunsets to color his world.

  “My assistant won’t padlock the door until I leave the dock. Apparently the entire office has a betting pool on how long it’ll be before I’m on my boating excursion.” Brad turned the laptop toward his brother. “As for why I’m here. I jumped on a conference call with my team about a new fraud case while updating the software on Sophie’s computer, so I could test her new security system.”

  “Who do I need to contact to get in on the office bet?” Drew asked. “Lydia in charge?”

  “Don’t encourage them,” Brad said. “About that favor?”

  “You need to fix the buffering. The feed is frozen.” Drew tapped on the keyboard, then frowned at the screen. “Is Sophie open on Sundays?”

  “Not officially. A few foster families planned to stop in for supplies.” Brad heard more quick typing and watched his brother’s eyes narrow on the monitor. “Why?”

  “Either Sophie isn’t happy with her customer, or he isn’t from one of her foster families.” Drew spun the computer toward Brad. “Hit Rewind.”

  Brad watched the video feed and pressed his fist into his thigh. He should’ve installed sound. He’d have violated all sorts of privacy issues, but at the moment he hardly cared.

  A regular-looking guy in khakis and a dress shirt faced Sophie at the counter. Sophie strangled her cash register scanner, her mouth tense and firm. He backed up the footage to the customer’s arrival and noted Sophie’s quick glance at the camera. Was that relief on her face, or was it his imagination? Had she hoped he’d been watching?

  He was watching now. Sophie flinched when her customer grabbed something to write with and scrawled across the dog-food bag. Then he noticed her fear. Quick glances at the camera, her teeth digging into her bottom lip. She wasn’t pretending now. He’d left her alone and afraid with someone harassing her. All while he’d paced his o
ffice and doubted her.

  Anger ambushed him, pointing a gnarly finger at him. “Definitely not a puppy lover.” Brad slammed the laptop closed. “I need to go.”

  Drew shoved out of his chair with a speed that mocked his size. “I’ll drive. I’m parked out front.”

  “That’s a no-parking zone.” Brad grabbed his jacket off the chair, reached for his gun and came up empty. He wasn’t on official duty or a case. This was a favor.

  Drew hurried down the hall. “I’ve got a special permit.”

  “There’s no such thing.” Brad followed his brother into the elevator and punched the button for the lobby. He’d rather punch the jerk who’d scared Sophie or—even better—her father.

  “Maybe not for you.” Drew pulled car keys from his pocket. “Or perhaps you just don’t know the right people.”

  Brad strode through the lobby. “I know you. Heck, I’m related to you.”

  “I’m definitely not the right people.” Drew pushed open the glass door and clicked the alarm on his mini SUV.

  Brad slid into the passenger seat, swiped the yellow paper off the dashboard and stuffed it into his jacket pocket. “Now I know the right people.”

  “You can’t keep that. It’s registered to my car.” Drew eased into traffic.

  “And now you don’t know the right people.” Brad forced a laugh, trying to disrupt the tension coiling inside him. He didn’t need his brother interfering in this, too. “Vehicle information can be easily altered upstairs inside my office.”

  “You’re sailing away soon. You need dock space, not city parking.”

  Thankfully, the streets weren’t overly busy. If they hit the stoplights right they could be across town in less than ten minutes. Inside Sophie’s place in less than twelve minutes. “I’m here now, so I’ll keep your pass.”

  “For another favor.” Drew cruised through a yellow light and turned onto a side street to avoid getting stuck behind a city bus.

  “I’m not sure I agreed to the first one.” Brad glanced at the clock in the dashboard and stopped his fingers from tapping against his leg. Surely they’d just discovered the longest stoplight in the financial district. “Which was what, by the way?”

  Drew’s phone rang inside the car, and he clicked the answer button on his steering wheel.

  Brad shoved his brother’s shoulder when the light turned green and Drew hesitated, distracted by his paralegal on the phone. He nudged Drew again at the next red light, sending him down a one-way street. He should’ve driven. Directing Drew through the city wasn’t distracting enough.

  Questions about Sophie’s customer preoccupied his brain. He doubted the man was Sophie’s ex. Beyond his research that indicated Sophie hadn’t dated in a while, there was Ella. Sophie was fiercely protective of Ella, and he didn’t think she’d introduce random men to her niece.

  He pointed for Drew to turn again, but his brother ignored his assistance.

  Brad tried to ignore the thought that Sophie might be pining for a past old love. He aimed the air vent into his face and turned up the fan speed. He’d never been the best passenger, and the car seemed too warm all of sudden. And too confining. And too slow. He could’ve run to Sophie’s place faster.

  What did he care if Sophie burned a candle for an old flame still? It wasn’t as if he wanted her to burn a new candle for him. He just wanted to believe she had room for a new love. Nothing wrong with that. He tapped the fan speed to superblast, hoping the cool air might dry out his lies.

  If the guy wasn’t an ex, who was he? Definitely not a customer interested in the latest dog toys or foam mattress pet beds. That left George Callahan. He had to be connected to George. Brad just needed to find out how—then he’d know what the guy wanted with Sophie.

  Drew pulled into the loading zone at the corner near the Pampered Pooch. Brad pointed to a guy down the street leaning against cement stairs, talking into a cell phone and drawing a deep drag from one of those e-cigs with the pale red tip and vapor plumes. “That’s our guy. Recognize his bare ankles from here.”

  “Dude needs a tan.” Drew looked over the top of his sunglasses.

  “Follow him. Get me a license-plate number and an address.” Brad jumped out of the car.

  “I’m an assistant district attorney, not a detective.”

  Brad leaned back inside the car. “You love this stuff.”

  “I should go and check on Sophie.” Drew motioned toward the pet store. “You can chase the bad guys.”

  Brad frowned at his brother, unable to relax his voice enough to suppress the possessive bite in his tone. “I’m checking on Sophie.”

  “And I’m calling Lydia.” Drew shoved his sunglasses on. “I want in on your office bet.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “Can’t chat now.” Drew turned his steering wheel, shifting the wheels away from the curb. “I have a bad guy to catch.”

  “Convenient.” Brad tossed the crumpled parking pass on the passenger seat. “You might need this.”

  “Thanks,” Drew said. “You’re accruing quite a list of favors.”

  “You’ll have to get in line.” Brad shut the car door and rushed toward the pet store.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  SOPHIE STEPPED AROUND the counter and hugged Beverly Baker. Since becoming a foster parent three years ago, Beverly liked to fill Sophie in on every milestone, big or small, of the dogs in her care. Sophie extended their conversation, inquiring further about each dog’s improvement and care plan. Beverly had been content to update Sophie and Sophie had been content to listen for the past fifteen minutes.

  Still, that tremor inside Sophie’s bones refused to recede. Even Beverly’s animated tale about the bug guy letting Rex, the Jack Russell terrier, out and returning the wrong dog to her backyard failed to disrupt Sophie’s fixation with the front entrance. Each time Beverly paused to breathe, Sophie collected her dread and waited for Teddy Gordon to step back through the door.

  The bells chimed. Sophie concentrated on not tensing as she stepped away from Beverly. Over the woman’s shoulder, she watched Brad enter the shop.

  His strong shoulders filled the small center aisle. His height drew her focus, and his confident stride chewed up the distance from the door to the counter. Finally that tremor inside her faded to a ripple. If Teddy Gordon returned, he’d definitely hesitate once he noticed Brad. She’d hesitate, too, but perhaps not for the same reasons.

  Brad offered to help Beverly with her packages, but she smiled and shook her head. One last goodbye to Sophie and the woman left, the bells issuing a small chime.

  Sophie glanced from the laptop in Brad’s firm grip up to her security camera, then back to Brad. His expression seemed to be set in neutral—relaxed, yet not open. But there was something in his steady gaze that searched her face. Concern or wariness, she wasn’t sure.

  How much had he seen on camera? How much would she need to confess? How much did she want to explain? Surely it was enough that he was here. Nothing needed to be said. Her lips made a wide smile and she hoped it broadcast delight and welcome. “You’re back, so everything must be working.”

  A crease shifted between his eyebrows. He didn’t believe her fake smile. “It’s better than I expected. Busy afternoon?”

  “A few foster families.” Sophie edged around the counter. He wasn’t asking specifics and she wasn’t revealing details. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

  Brad set the laptop on the counter. “Ready to watch the video feed?”

  “Not really,” she muttered, avoiding Brad’s gaze.

  “Worried about how you look on camera?”

  She was more worried about how other people looked. More precisely, how detailed one man’s khakis and threats looked on camera.

  “Who wants cake?” Ella’s exc
ited shout saved Sophie from replying and silenced the chime of the bells above the front door. Ella called out from her perch on Matt’s back. “We brought samples!”

  Matt’s huge smile matched Ella’s and Sophie wasn’t sure who’d conned who into the piggyback ride. She dashed around the counter, wanting to wrap her arms around Ella, happy to know that for now the child was safe.

  Ruthie waved several Whisk and Whip Pastry Shop bags. “Matt and Ella loved the s’mores cake. I liked pink champagne. Ella and I really liked red velvet.”

  Matt knelt and let Ella slide down to the floor. Ella grimaced and added, “No one liked the coconut lime with blueberries.”

  Matt took the bags from Ruthie. “So now you get to sample, too. Even you, Brad. I could use another male vote.” Matt started to unload the first bag. “Do we go with a classic white-chocolate raspberry, or the exotic grasshopper with mint and chocolate for the wedding cake?”

  Matt waggled his eyebrows at one of the cake containers. Clearly, he and Ella had a favorite and had failed to win over Ruthie.

  Ella nudged Matt with her elbow. “Brad should try the s’mores cake first before he ruins his taste buds with the champagne one.”

  “The pink champagne was terrific.” Ruthie took one of the bags from Matt and thrust it at Sophie. Ruthie frowned at Matt, seemingly disgruntled that he’d even suggested that they stray from tradition. “Sophie will agree with me.”

  Matt and Ella shook their heads in unison as if Ruthie was an unfortunate lost cause. Sophie grabbed the cake samples and set the bag on top of the laptop, content to banter about cake. Content to pretend that choosing a flavor was the most pressing problem to be solved today. Content to pretend this was her normal. “Isn’t there supposed to be a groom’s cake?”

  “Already taken care of.” Matt wrapped his arm around Ella’s shoulders and squeezed. “Ella and I picked Creamsicle. Now we need help with the big one.”

  “The one Matt gets to smash in Ruthie’s face,” Ella added.

  “Not if I get to him first.” The challenge was there in Ruthie’s voice, but laughter danced through her gaze.