by Jane Peden
…
The look he gave her made her feel like a witness being questioned in one of his trials. She’d gotten his attention, but the interested and slightly amused look had been replaced by eyes so hard that she felt as if his stare were physically pinning her to the chair. The last five years had transformed any lingering traces of boyish charm into chiseled good looks with a slightly dangerous edge. His gray eyes appraised her coolly. She could remember a time when they had darkened with passion. Eyes like storm clouds that reflected the swirling passions he’d aroused in her during that brief escape from the most desperate time in her life. His thick black hair, so perfectly in place now, had been wildly unruly and she resisted the impulse to reach out now, to lean across his desk and see if it still had the texture of silk as it slipped through her fingers. Rekindling an old romance was not what she was here for.
“Is this a joke?” There was no warmth in his voice.
“No.”
“I spent two weeks with you in Las Vegas five years ago. I’ve regretted ending things the way I did.” He paused and glanced pointedly at her ring finger. “But apparently you moved on.”
The nerve of him. He was the one who dumped her, before she even had a chance to explain what was going on in her life, how badly she wished things were different. She hadn’t gone to Vegas intending to meet a man who’d turn her emotions upside down. But she’d felt a connection to Sam. She remembered how they’d strolled through shops on the Strip the last evening they spent together, and how sweet he’d been when she spotted a simple silver chain in a jeweler’s case, with two interlocking hearts. He’d bought it for her, fastening it around her neck, and she had felt like she could at least carry with her this one perfect memory. But the clasp must have broken sometime that night, because when she reached to touch the hearts as she lay in bed thinking about her future, the necklace was gone.
After a sleepless night, she’d decided to tell Sam everything and ask for his advice. She had foolishly believed he might help her think of another solution. But before she’d been able to confide in him about her plans, plans she desperately wanted not to go through with, he’d cut her off, discarded her like a stray poker chip left on a table by a vacation gambler returning to his real life. So she’d married Danny, completing her end of what began as nothing more than a business proposition.
“As a matter of fact, I got married a week after you left,” she said, meeting his eye and lifting her chin. She was not going to feel guilty when he was the one who had walked away from her. And when the decision she’d made had been to put her sister, Olivia, above all else.
“Well. Then it seems you already have a husband.”
“Not anymore. That’s why I’m here.”
“I don’t handle divorces.”
This wasn’t going at all the way she’d planned. To be honest, she hadn’t really had a plan. She’d headed for his office and thought she’d just figure out the best approach once she got there. But the man sitting across the desk from her wasn’t the same man at all that she had known in Las Vegas. That Sam had had been cocky and sure of himself, but approachable. This Sam, measuring her with steely eyes, exuded power and control. It would be much harder than she’d expected to get him to understand and to agree with her proposal. “I don’t need a divorce lawyer, Sam.” She leaned forward. “What I need is for you—”
He cut her off. “To marry you. So you said.”
“For you to listen,” she finished.
“Camilla, it was…interesting…seeing you again, but unless you have a serious legal matter to consult me on, you need to leave. Now.”
He was looking at her like he thought she’d lost her mind, and she realized it probably seemed that way.
“Look,” he said, “if you had called and made an appointment—”
“I didn’t think you’d take my call. Why would it be any different than last time?”
He looked genuinely perplexed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He didn’t even remember not returning her phone calls? It had been more than four years since she’d last tried to contact him. But Camilla remembered it very clearly.
She took a deep breath. “I’m here now. Just let me explain.”
He glanced at his watch. “You have two minutes. I’m finishing a trial tomorrow, and I don’t have time for games.”
“Meet me tomorrow then. After you get out of court.”
“Why should I do that?”
He was so formidable. She searched his face for a trace of the warmth she’d been drawn to five years ago, but couldn’t find it. She just saw someone who got what he wanted through ruthless determination. She felt herself shudder.
“I can’t—it’s too much to explain. Have dinner with me tomorrow night and I’ll explain everything.”
He seemed to consider for a few moments and she held her breath. In the sleepless nights she’d spent deciding whether or not to come see him, the one thing she’d never considered was that he might dismiss her without even hearing her out.
Finally, he nodded. “All right. Give me your number and I’ll call you when I get out of court. It may be late.”
She let her breath out slowly.
“That’s fine. I’m not going anywhere.”
…
If there was one thing Sam was good at, it was compartmentalizing his life, locking problems away to be dealt with later, so that he could focus clearly on the matter at hand. It had gotten him through a rocky childhood and served him well in his chosen career.
When he faced the jury, no other thought intruded on his impassioned plea for justice for his client—now a paraplegic thanks to a reckless driver who’d been too busy drinking coffee and texting at fifty miles per hour to notice the red light. Or the compact car coming through the intersection, and the promising high school basketball player in the passenger seat who was now never going to walk again. The driver herself didn’t have any money, but the insurance company was sure as hell going to pay every penny of the policy limits. His client’s mother sobbed quietly in the background as Sam wrapped up his closing argument.
But when he sat in an empty room in the courthouse, waiting for the jury to return, he let his thoughts entertain the puzzle of Camilla Winthrop showing up at his office. Clearly the woman had lost her mind. It was a pity, because she was even more attractive than he remembered. He’d been surprised at how strong the impulse had been to walk around the desk and take her into his arms to find out if the chemistry between them was really as strong as he remembered. Fortunately, reason prevailed. He was not going to take any chances with a woman who obviously had delusions about marrying him.
She had to be running some sort of scam, but he couldn’t figure out what her angle was. The sugar daddy she’d latched onto after Sam returned to Miami had apparently left her high and dry, and she’d decided to find out what had happened to that young lawyer she met once upon a time. Sam wasn’t that same kid anymore. He cringed when he remembered how he’d let his guard down, opened up to her, shared his plans and dreams. And apparently Camilla had found out he’d actually surpassed his own expectations.
When he’d started the firm with Jon and Ritchie, he’d expected to be successful. He just hadn’t imagined how successful they would be. It had been his idea, which was why his name was first on the door. But it hadn’t taken much to talk his law school buddy Jonathon Berrington, an associate at another of Miami’s major insurance defense firms, into trading in the long hours and associate’s salary for a chance to own their own firm and bring in million-dollar verdicts for plaintiffs. They would change people’s lives and make themselves rich in the process. As the plan began to take form, they’d added Ritchie Perez, a hotshot young prosecutor in the state attorney’s office, whose handling of high-profile drug and gang violence cases had catapulted him into the public eye as the champion of the underdog, a man who got justice for the little guy. It was exactly the image they wanted.
> The three of them had agreed from the beginning that there would be no fender benders, no dog bites, no slip-and-fall cases handled by the law firm of Flanagan, Berrington & Perez. And no clients with dubious claims, no scammers in neck braces faking injuries. They weren’t ambulance chasers, and they wouldn’t take a case for a client who didn’t deserve to win. They would be the ones who stood up for the innocent victims of drunk drivers and of unscrupulous companies that ignored the warnings in their own product safety tests and caused needless suffering. They would specialize in wrongful death, serious bodily injury, and million-dollar verdicts.
And that’s exactly what they’d done.
“The jury’s in.”
Sam looked up, nodded to the bailiff, and went into the courtroom.
…
“You mean you didn’t tell him?” Camilla’s sister stared at her. “How could you not tell him?”
“He’s different now.” Camilla paced across the room, stopped, and looked out the window at the Atlantic Ocean.
“Well, duh,” Olivia said, stretching her long limbs and leaning back on the bed. To all appearances, she was the typical 15-year-old, obsessing over the latest pop star, the coolest fashions, the hottest boys in school. Thank God, Camilla thought. She would never let a single day go by without remembering to be thankful. If this had been the only thing Danny had given her, it would have been enough.
“So what did you say?”
“That I wanted him to marry me.”
He sister stared at her, mouth gaping. “Well, that’s an original opening.”
Camilla shrugged. “It bought me a meeting with him. Dinner. Tonight.” She looked at her watch.
“So where’s he meeting you?”
“Here.”
“Here?” Olivia glanced at the closed door across the suite. “What about JD?”
“Well, since JD’s the whole point…”
“Look,” Olivia said, her brilliantly blue eyes turning a deeper shade with intensity. “Let’s just leave now. We can go anyplace. There’s enough money—you don’t have to do this. We’ll just…we’ll go live in Italy!”
Camilla shook her head. “We’re not going to start running.” Arguably the only thing of value her mother had passed on to her and her sister was dual citizenship in Italy, a result of her mother’s paternal grandfather, who immigrated to the United States in the 1930s, dying a few years later without ever having renounced his Italian citizenship. It seemed to Camilla to be a tenuous link, but her mother had investigated it and obtained dual citizenship for herself and both her daughters, claiming it gave them “an international flair.” Camilla, however, had no desire to live in exile from the only country she considered her home. Compared to that, a marriage of convenience to the father of her child seemed like not such a big sacrifice at all.
“Trust me, Liv. This is the only answer. It’ll be fine.”
“He’ll hate you.”
“Probably. It’ll only be for a year at most. Then we really will be able to start over.”
“Promise?”
“Absolutely.”
Olivia didn’t look convinced.
“Listen,” Camilla said. “I better get downstairs. I’m supposed to meet him at the restaurant, and he’s probably on his way here now.”
There was a knock at the door and they both jumped guiltily.
“Do you think…”
Camilla shook her head. “He doesn’t know what room we’re in.” She peeked through the eyehole in the door, then looked at Olivia. “I guess he found out.”
Camilla opened the door and tried to slip out into the hallway, but Sam blocked the door from closing.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in, Camilla?”
“No, I’m ready to go down…” Even with heels on, she had to tilt her head up to look in his eyes. She’d forgotten how tall he was. His shoulders seem broader now that she was so close to him, and he had an air of confidence that bordered on arrogance. He exuded a kind of casual power that seemed just as intimidating standing in a hotel hallway as it had been sitting behind the desk in his opulent office.
“Who’s in the room with you?” He took hold of her elbow lightly. “Your lover? I want to know exactly what’s going on here, and I don’t think you want to have this conversation in the hallway.”
She stepped back and let him in the door.
…
Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t to see a teenage girl sitting on the bed.
“This is my sister, Olivia. Livvy, this is Sam Flanagan.”
“Hi.”
Sam felt a little foolish.
The girl was staring at him like he was some sort of fascinating other species. She looked over at Camilla. “Oh my God, Cam. You didn’t tell me he looked exactly like—”
“Liv!”
“Sorry.” She silently studied Sam another ten seconds or so, then shrugged.
“Are you satisfied? Can we go to dinner now?” Camilla started toward the door.
Olivia looked back down at her book, something ghoulish with vampires on the cover from what Sam could see of it, and gave every appearance of tuning the adults out.
“Maybe it would be better to talk in the restaurant,” Sam allowed.
“Yes, let’s do that.”
They were almost out the door when another voice interrupted them.
“Mommy?”
Sam jerked his head around. The connecting door opened and a small boy walked out, rubbing his eyes and clutching a tattered teddy bear.
“I thought you were asleep, honey,” Camilla said, hurrying over and bending down to give him a hug. She brushed a wavy lock of black hair back from his forehead, and Sam felt something clench in his gut. The little boy looked up then, staring at him with Camilla’s brilliantly blue eyes.
“Who are you?”
“That’s Sam, honey. He’s an…old friend of Mommy’s.” She looked over at Sam. “Sam, this is my son, JD.”
Sam just stared. Was it possible? Of course it was. But for the eyes, he was staring at a mirror image of himself as a child.
“I’m sorry, just let me get JD settled back into bed.”
“Not quite yet,” Sam said, walking over and crouching down in front of the boy, who leaned back against his mother, but kept his eyes on Sam’s face.
“Where’s your daddy, JD?” Sam asked softly, then regretted the question when the little boy’s lower lip began to tremble.
“Daddy had to go away,” JD said.
“That’s enough,” Camilla said sharply, looking at Sam as she pulled the little boy toward the other room. “JD, let’s get you back into bed.”
The little boy rubbed his eyes and held Camilla’s hand, walking with her back toward the bedroom. He paused when he got to the door and turned back to look at Sam.
“Daddy can’t live with us anymore. God needs him up in heaven,” he said solemnly, and Sam heard Camilla catch her breath before she looked back over her shoulder and gave Sam a look that said she wished he was the one who was dead.
Chapter Two
“What do you think you’re doing?” Camilla tried to pull her arm away, but Sam kept a firm grip, steering her away from the entrance to the hotel dining room and toward the main entrance.
“Taking you someplace where we can discuss this privately.”
“I don’t want to be alone with you right now.”
“I’m sure you don’t.” He handed the valet his claim check and a folded bill. “The black BMW convertible. M6. Now.”
“Yes, sir,” the kid said, sprinting ahead of the other valets.
“I have to get back to JD soon.”
Sam didn’t answer. He had plenty to say to her, but it could—it would—wait until they were alone.
The sleek sports car whipped up the drive in front of the hotel, and the valet rushed out to open the door for Camilla.
Once they were out on the highway, Sam opened it up, speeding along the coastline. He left the ha
rdtop up, although he was tempted to see what she’d look like with the top down, the wind whipping through her hair. He reminded himself this wasn’t a joyride. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the thought that he had a son.
“Where are you taking me?”
He glanced over at her. Her fists were clenched on her lap, her body rigid. “Does it matter?”
He punched the gas and the accelerator crept up higher.
“Could you slow down, please? You’re going to get us killed.”
“Hardly.” But he saw her face was white and let up on the accelerator.
He pulled off the highway into a parking lot at the beach. There were few cars this time of evening, and the sky was already darkening over the Atlantic.
“All right,” he said. “Talk.”
…
Now that the moment was finally here, she wasn’t sure what to say. How could she explain why she’d kept JD’s birth a secret all these years, and then chose to end that silence and show up at his office? And it didn’t help that he was looking at her with restrained fury in his eyes.
“I’m not sure where to begin.” She heard the slight tremor in her own voice and steeled herself. She’d done what she had to do.
“You could begin with why you have a child who looks to be about four years old and looks an awful lot like me when I was that age.” Every word was deliberate, cold.
This would have been so much easier if they were having a civilized discussion over dinner, like she’d suggested. Instead of sitting in a car in a deserted parking lot at the beach, the sky darkening over the unrelenting waves that advanced on the shoreline and then receded. The sudden annoyance she felt at the way he’d taken control of the situation steadied her voice.
“I didn’t mean to tell you like this. That’s why I wanted to meet you at the restaurant. I don’t know how you found out what room we’re in.”
When he didn’t answer, she sighed. “I got pregnant when we were in Las Vegas.”
“That much is obvious. What isn’t obvious is why I never heard from you until now.”
She looked over at him in surprise. “You’re the one who didn’t want to hear from me. Obviously you didn’t want me to disrupt you career just when it was taking off.”
