by Kimball Lee
LEGAL ACTION
Box Set Edition
Surrendering Charlotte Chronicles
Books 1-4
Legal Action
Legal Action 2
Legal Action 3
Legal Action 4
By Kimball Lee
This book is a work of fiction. All characters in this novel are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Kindle Edition
Copyright 2013. Kimball Lee
LEGAL ACTION
ONE
Charlotte sat at the red light, sipped her nonfat white mocha and thought about getting a massage. She didn’t have time for a trip to a spa and she didn’t feel like going to one of those generic, walk-in set-ups in the mall. She wanted a massage like the one a gorgeous, naked, man, rippling with muscles, had given Holly Hunter in the movie, Living Out Loud. She needed an anonymous man, sexy and hot and nameless straining the front of his boxer-briefs, unfolding his massage table in her living room.
It was no good, the thought of briefs made her think of the paperwork piled on her office desk. More pressing than that was her need to be angry and aggressive, yet cool-headed and in control in the courtroom the next day. She’d spent months working on a major lawsuit and she intended to bring the jury to its knees and win.
A car horn honked and she looked to her left as a handsome man pointed at the light, which was green.
She smiled at him and pulled forward only to be caught at the next red light. He tapped his horn again and rolled down his window, he didn’t look like he was going anywhere and neither was she. She put her window down and he lifted his sun glasses and she noticed the brilliant blue-green of his eyes even at a distance.
“I believe we know each other,” he said.
She hesitated for a minute and studied him, he was seriously handsome. He had the kind of smoldering sexuality that made her sure his body would look as good as his face. Of course, most of the men in Southern California were good looking. She’d realized that when she’d moved from Mississippi to UCLA for college.
“Yes,” she said, “I’m sure we were in the fourth grade together.”
The light turned green and she drove away.
Was that just rude, she wondered? She almost wished she had time to flirt with him, but winning her case was all she could think about. She was starving and she wondered if she should run through In and Out Burger or if the guys would have something cooking at home. She pulled into a parking lot to call JP and ask. As she parked and dialed his number there was a tap on her window. She jumped and dropped her cell phone, she could hear JP’s voice saying hello from somewhere on the floor.
The man from the red light was standing outside her car window loosening his tie, he looked impatient.
She panicked, checked that her doors were locked and reached in her purse for her pepper spray. She groped on the floor and found her phone, said “JP, hold on there’s some strange guy at my car window!” She put the cell phone on speaker and held it and the pepper spray up for the man to see.
He closed his eyes and shook his head, then gestured broadly at his Bentley and held his open wallet with his ID to the window.
JP was talking wildly on the phone, “get the fuck out of there Char, just floor it. Do not roll down the window.”
She gasped as she read his ID, “I’ll call you back, JP. I know him.”
She rolled the window down, looked into those blue-green eyes, then put her hands to her face in embarrassment.
“It’s okay,” he said, “I don’t blame you, it’s a crazy world. I knew it wasn’t the fourth grade, by the way, unless you went to an all-boy’s school in Switzerland.”
“Alexander Bly, I’m sorry, my mind was somewhere else. I have a huge thing in the morning…”
“Wow,” he said, “a huge thing, that sounds scary.”
Charlotte blushed again and he laughed. Her cell phone rang and she tapped it and said, “I’m okay, JP, I’ll be home in ten minutes.”
“It’s not fucking JP, and what the fuck, Charlotte? Is some pervert molesting you or what? I’ll track your phone and kick his ass!” A man’s voice with a British accent yelled.
“Finn, I’m fine, everything’s okay, I’ll be there in a few, goodbye.”
“Listen, Charlotte, I just wanted to say hello, it’s been a long time. I should let you get home to your husband, boyfriends, whatever. You look great, by the way.” He hesitated for a minute, ran his hand through his dark, wavy hair. Looked at her with those wide, sea-glass colored eyes, then he smiled a small smile and walked away.
She knew she should stop him, he was not only dangerously sexy, he was one of the most powerful men in the world, not to mention one of the richest. She’d met him, worked for him, in a sense, six years before.
He’d been an arrogant twenty eight year old with the world at his feet and women at his beck and call. He was breathtakingly handsome then and it was hard to believe he was even more so now.
Oh well, she thought, he’s either still racking up conquests or he’s married and ready to cheat on his wife.
She drove to her loft, parked on the street and stepped in to the freight elevator. She lived on the top floor of a vintage warehouse in downtown San Diego with two other residents who happened to be men.
They were also her closest friends and had become her only family. The three of them bought the building two years before and converted the top floor into three apartments and rented out the retail spaces below. One loft for each of them, although JP and Finn felt free to lounge in her living room or use her rooftop deck and each had a key to her apartment.
They’d gone through law school and graduated together. The two men were in school on some kind of military funding, having both been in Special Forces. They’d all lived together since law school and it was assumed that the guys were either gay or the three of them had a serious ménage a trois going on. Neither was true and the constant string of hot girls in the men’s bedrooms was proof. They were the obnoxious brothers Charlotte never had, the trio had a blast just being together and she had zero time for a love life.
After graduating, Charlotte had been recruited into the best corporate law firm in San Diego. JP and Finn had been recruited by the government to do who knew what and they half-jokingly said if they told her, they’d have to kill her. So she didn’t ask.
In the beginning they’d both pursued her romantically until she’d marched into their college dorm room, ripped the pages of American Jock off the wall and told them to “get the fuck over it.” After that the three of them had become inseparable buddies and even shared a little house the last two years of law school. Of course the guys had replaced the magazine pages on the wall just to piss her off and because every red-blooded American boy, (or British, as was the case with Finn) had her scandalous photo layout on display.
The article happened to have appeared in Alexander Bly’s magazine, one of them, anyway. Bly Publishing owned more magazines and newspapers than any other single corporation in the world. Bly, she thought and she could still see the look in those wide, sexy eyes all those years ago at the photo shoot.
It had been a closed set and only persons of absolute importance were allowed at Charlotte’s insistence. But, how could she refuse to allow Alexander Bly? He’d agreed to the astronomical fee she demanded although she wasn’t a model, just a college cheerleader who was engaged to an NFL quarterback. She knew the school would kick her out when she made the cover, naked. Well, naked except for her famous football player fiancé’s arm and hand covering strategic areas. The inside shots were as explicit as the cover and although the pictures left something to the imaginati
on, the sexual tension on the pages was palpable.
She married the football player, Jorgen Christiansen, a seriously hot, Viking God. As soon as the photo shoot was finished they’d flown to Las Vegas to a cheesy wedding chapel and Elvis had tied the knot.
Jorgen was playing for the San Diego Chargers and she’d just been accepted to law school at USD the following year, so it was a dream. It lasted from September to May and that quick she’d had enough of his alpha-male, domineering bullshit. They’d divorced over the summer before she entered law school, but they talked on the phone still. He was traded to the Miami Dolphins and was always offering to send the team jet for her, he’d become a celebrity with his Nordic good looks and athletic prowess. But, she knew he’d want sex and she wasn’t going back there.
Alexander Bly had watched the photo shoot, to be specific, he’d watched her.
She’d been conscious of his eyes on her, but then there was Jorgen with his shoulder length blond hair and long, chiseled body. He was the first lover she’d allowed herself to have. He whispered things in her ear as they posed for the camera, held her with his sky blue eyes, pale stubble on his strong, square chin. She was twenty one and he was twenty five and they were HOT for each other. The world had melted away as they had contorted and practically had sex for the camera. When the magazine hit the newsstands the whole world loved it.
She was expelled from Ole Miss but UCLA accepted her readily, dazzled by her beauty and instant fame.
They’d welcomed her onto the cheerleading squad with a full scholarship which she needed to complete her degree. The money from the famous magazine layout was socked away to pay for law school.
She received dozens of offers to model and even do a TV pilot, but she turned them all down. She intended to be a barracuda lawyer someday and she didn’t need a string of American Jock covers haunting her.
She had seriously harsh words with Alexander Bly the last time she laid eyes on him. She’d adamantly refused to put on a bit of dental floss and do the magazine’s yearly swim suit edition.
He wasn’t used to taking no for an answer he told her and she said she was glad she could introduce him to a new experience. His eyes had flamed then, she’d never forget it. In them was a mixture of fury and pure sexual need and he’d said she might make a hell of a lawyer, after all.
She shook his hand as she left his office and felt the chemistry between them as they said good-bye. When she walked across the massive penthouse office and stepped into the elevator, she looked up as she pressed the button and he still stood at his office door, watching her.
She’d gone to her tiny apartment, locked the door and masturbated to the sound of his voice in her head as they’d argued. She loved a good argument and she always wanted sex afterword, although, too often, there was only her vibrator. She knew then, as she pictured his beguiling eyes, that she wanted to be a great lawyer and test her wits against powerful men. As her hand slipped between her legs she wanted to call him up and say, “I’ll do your demeaning photo shoot if your cock is as powerful as you are.”
The phone had rung just then, as she was shuddering with release, and she answered it without thinking.
“Charlotte,” Alexander Bly’s voice was gruff as he spoke, “I’d like to see you, socially.”
“No,” she said and her voice was husky.
“I’ll come meet you now,” he said, “where are you? Wait for me.”
“Too, late,” she said, and hung up the phone.
She shook those thoughts from her mind as she walked through the door of her loft. JP was cooking something that smelled delicious and Finn was shouting at the British footballers on TV. She dropped her briefcase and purse, kicked off her shoes and lay down on the sofa with her feet in Finn’s lap.
JP leaned over the sofa, handed her a martini and said, “Here ya go, love of my life.”
“The martini, I’m sure you mean,” she said, and he laughed as he went back to his cooking.
Finn was still yelling at the TV and she couldn’t help it, she loved his British accent. Maybe it was the Southern girl in her, maybe it was that he was hotter than hell and didn’t seem to know it.
She started laughing and he looked at her and said, “Alright then, what’s so funny?”
She just loved the stability of her life with two gorgeous men who were straight and hot and the truest friends she’d ever known.
“Score, yes!” Finn yelled and she died laughing as he turned red with embarrassment, flashed a crooked smile and massaged her feet.
*
She dressed carefully in a white Carolina Herrera wrap blouse and a black pencil skirt that hugged her body and ended below her knees. She slipped into black Manolo pumps that were simple yet made here legs look a mile long. She examined herself in the full length mirror. It was Marilyn Monroe meets Audrey Hepburn, perfect. She looked demure enough to woo the jury and sexy enough to rattle Witt Collier, the pompous lawyer for the plaintiff. She would give her final argument that day and the case would go to the jury, which made her nervous. She was always afraid she couldn’t do it, convince the jury she was right and make them see her point of view as the correct choice. She was a good trial lawyer, and although this was only her second year of practice she’d never lost a case.
Sheppard and Sheridan was an important law firm in California, she’d been picked as a first year intern and out of a dozen, only she had persevered. All the members of the San Diego office had shown up at her graduation and she’d been offered a position immediately.
She’d proved herself over and over, she worked tirelessly and refused to back down in a battle of words. She didn’t have much of a social life, but she was well on her way to becoming the youngest partner at the firm.
Jack Sheppard swore she loved to be backed into a corner in the court room, that the bailiff practically had to call the paramedics to staunch the blood flow from the opposing attorney once she’d had her say. The “hell cat,” the other lawyers called her, and she’d liked it at first, but she had a soft side and she wondered if she would ever give in to it. It might be nice, to not always have to win and yet, still come out on top.
*
Standing before the jury, Charlotte knew every man in the courtroom was staring at her ass. They’d probably jerked off looking at it years ago when it was gloriously bare on the pages of American Jock.
When the infamous pictures had appeared in the magazine, the ‘ass shot’ was always the one she’d been asked to autograph. Physically, it was her strong suit.
She used that now, the notoriety that haunted her, to her advantage. This was a case about sexual harassment, so why shouldn’t she? Let them look at her, examine their own lustful hearts and side with the female clients she was representing. She finished her powerful speech and as she walked to her chair she realized that not only were Jack Sheppard and Billy Sheridan sitting in on the proceedings, so was Alexander Bly.
He sat between her two bosses. In fact, he seemed to be there with them. Obviously they’d come to hear her close the case, but Bly looked truly surprised to see her.
She was aware of his eyes on her and she was glad she hadn’t noticed him before, he made her nervous. Her hands trembled as she sat and gathered the documents in front of her.
The jury was back in record time deciding in her favor. Witt Collier took her hand and bowed theatrically and there were congratulations and thanks thrust her way.
She glanced to the back of the courtroom and the three men were gone. On her way out of the courthouse she juggled her purse and briefcase and tried to check messages on her cell phone.
“Charlotte!” she looked up at the sound of Billy Sheridan’s voice and there they were. All three of them were standing on the granite steps of the court house, and evidently they were waiting for her. Billy Sheridan and Jack Sheppard both shook her hand and kissed her cheek lightly, congratulating her profusely.
Alexander Bly was staring a hole through her and she knew her
cheeks were flaming. He looked perplexed, a look she’d never seen on that overly confident face before.
“Alex Bly, I believe you know Charlotte Christiansen, our secret weapon,” Jack Sheppard said.
Alexander Bly was so handsome she could barely look at him. He’d been attractive before, but now he was damn near irresistible. He was tall, six feet four, she’d guess, by the way he towered over the others and they were both tall men. His grey suit was perfectly tailored, Saville Row, custom made, for sure. He was probably thirty three or thirty four now and looked to be in great shape. His shoulders were broad and his legs were incredibly long, he looked rather menacing as he tried to make her eyes meet his.
She didn’t want to get caught in those hypnotic eyes or look at the high cheek bones and strong square jaw or wide sensual mouth.
His hair was combed back and grazed his shirt collar, but it had a slight wave that made it seem tosseled and he had a cowlick in front. It caused a swatch of hair to fall over his forehead and his hand kept pushing it away. That small gesture caught at her heart, made him seem less imposing and rather vulnerable, somehow.
“Christiansen,” Bly repeated, holding her eyes as he took her hand in his.
“I kept Jorgen’s name, after the divorce,” she said and her voice sounded strange, “people knew me as Charlotte McCall from the magazine article, it was just easier for me to stay under the radar.”
“I doubt that you could ever stay under the radar,” he said and she realized he hadn’t let go of her hand.
She pulled it away quickly, collected her wits and said, “Alexander Bly, twice in two days, strange.”
“I was thinking, interesting, rather than strange,” his voice held a hint of something unsaid. His voice and his eyes made her feel out of control, made a small geyser erupt down low in her belly.
She felt herself reacting to him, her panties were already moist and it pissed her off. Why did the thought of him affect her after so many years?
Witt Collier walked up just then, shook hands with the men and turned to her.
