Fixed Up with Mr. Right?

by Marie Ferrarella

  She heard Jewel laugh. “Gotta say that’s better than getting a gift certificate to one of the stores in the mall.”

  For a private investigator, Jewel was certainly missing the obvious. “Jewel, she’s meddling.”

  “She’s a mother,” Jewel pointed out. “It’s what they do. At least this one’s a hunk—” And then she came to a skidding halt. “Wait a minute, then he is taken.”

  That was one hell of a conclusion Jewel had just jumped to. More importantly, she didn’t want Jewel even to hint at that assumption the next time she spoke to Jackson.

  “Not by me,” Kate said with emphasis.

  If she’d hoped that Jewel would drop the subject, she should have known better. “You said that a little too fast, Kate. Is something going on between you two?”

  Kate evaded the question. “He’s a client, Jewel. He needed a trust fund reinstituted.”

  The chuckle she heard on the other end of the line told her that Jewel wasn’t about to be diverted. “Did you reinstitute anything else for him?”

  “What does that even mean?” Kate wanted to know.

  Jewel sighed. “If I have to explain that to you, Manetti, I guess the answer’s no.”

  She did not want to continue in this vein. “Just get him the answers he needs.”

  “Did you ever consider that maybe the answer he needs is the word yes?” Jewel asked.

  Dear God, Jewel was worse than her mother, Kate thought. “This conversation is getting too convoluted for me. I’ve got to go.” Kate terminated the call before Jewel could say another thing.

  Kate sat on the side of the road for a moment longer, frowning as she stared off into space. She’d spent quite possibly the best night of her entire life with the most incredible lover she’d ever encountered. Even so, she was afraid to let her thoughts go any further. Love was the easiest word in the world to say. Meaning it, well, that was a completely different matter.

  Kate knew she couldn’t allow her thoughts to drift into unchaperoned corners. She was afraid of the disappointment that she’d encountered time and time again. She had no desire to go that route again.

  If she just kept everything in perspective, it’d be all right. She’d be all right, Kate silently insisted.

  Meanwhile, she had work to do and a set of papers to deliver to Jackson.

  The thought of seeing Jackson made her work faster.

  Jackson was quiet for a long time as he read through the papers that he had already familiarized himself with when she’d brought them to him in rough-draft form. Everything seemed pretty ironclad.

  Jonah wasn’t going to be happy. That was a given. But at least his brother would be taken care of and he wouldn’t wind up penniless—which was where he’d be, sooner than later, if he were allowed to spend his money unchecked. This trust fund was a way to rein him in—and keep him solvent.

  Jackson put the papers down and raised his eyes to look at Kate. She hadn’t been out of his thoughts for a single moment since she’d left his place two days ago. Two days and the longing for her had grown more intense, not less. He was unnerved because it made him feel so alive.

  Remember Rachel and what that did to you.

  He was in big trouble, he concluded. So why did he feel like smiling all the time?

  “Perfect,” he told Kate.

  “I’m glad you’re happy with it. Everything is as we’d discussed.”

  He wasn’t talking about the documents. He was talking about her. But that was something, he knew, that was better left unexplained. Instead, he turned his attention to something else that had been on his mind.

  “I’m thinking of having a will drawn up.”

  “A will?” she asked. Was he being responsible, or was there something more to this? Had he seen a doctor lately who had given him unwanted news?

  “I know it sounds gruesome,” Jackson continued, “talking about a will, but if anything happens to me, I don’t want my money tied up in some incredibly lengthy legal battle.”

  She should have realized, Kate told herself, relieved. Jackson was just being Jackson, thinking ahead. “Understandable—and for the record, it’s not gruesome,” she told him. “It’s very clear-sighted of you. A lot of people put off having a will drawn up because they think that once they do, it’s like sending out an open invitation to God to be smitten.”

  The corners of his mouth curved as he looked at her. “Oh, I think I’m already that.”

  Kate felt a blush heating her cheeks and creeping up her neck. She struggled to bank it down.

  “I’m using the word in the biblical sense,” she told him.

  The smile turned into an almost boyish grin. “Wasn’t that what we were doing the other night, getting to know each other in the biblical sense?”

  She didn’t stand a fighting chance against the blush. Veins of heat shot up all through her body now. And all because he’d stood up and walked around behind her, brushing up against her.

  “You’re making it very hard for me to concentrate and keep my mind on business, Jackson.”

  Hearing that pleased him. “Good, then you’re not tired of me yet.”

  He had to be kidding, she thought. The man had a mouth like sin and a positively wicked technique. If they lived to be a thousand, she knew she wouldn’t be the one to ever grow tired of him. It would be the reverse, something she didn’t want to think about even though it was inevitable. And sooner rather than later. She’d been through it enough to have that point driven home. Drop-dead gorgeous men liked to make the rounds.

  Kate took a deep breath to steady her shredding nerves. She was a professional, a lawyer. Time to act like one.

  “I take it you’ll want the will to emulate the terms of the trust fund.” And then she elaborated what she meant. “Your brother doesn’t get the principle, just a monthly allowance.”

  Jackson nodded. That was it exactly. “You read my mind.”

  She laughed softly. “Not exactly a superhuman feat in this case.”

  “What about now?” he asked, threading his arms around her waist and gently pressing a kiss to the side of her neck.

  A squadron of goose bumps suddenly let loose all along her body. “Now you’re making me want to do something that’ll get me in trouble,” she breathed. “We’re working,” she reminded him. She was being paid an hourly rate to be his lawyer, not his lover, although right at this moment, she would have gladly opted for the latter over the former.

  “I don’t call this work.”

  The feel of his warm breath along her neck made her crazy. God, but he made her want to rip off her clothes—and his.

  Kate let out a shaky breath, fighting to keep from melting, from having her eyes drift closed. “Jackson…”

  “I want to see you tonight,” he told her, turning her around to face him. “Someone gave me tickets to that new musical that’s previewing here before going to Broadway. How do you feel about people bursting into song in the middle of a conversation?”

  Funny he should mention that, she thought. It was something that she felt like doing herself right now. “I happen to like musicals,” she told him in as calm a voice as she could muster.

  He seemed pleased. “Good, then it’s a date. I’ll pick you up at five-thirty.”

  That seemed rather early. Most plays began at around seven-thirty or eight. “Five-thirty?”

  He nodded. “It’s at the Ahmanson Theater in L.A. The play starts at seven-thirty, but if I remember correctly, L.A. traffic is like an all-out miniature preview of what hell is like.”

  She nodded. If anything, that was an understatement. “It’s gotten worse.”

  “I can’t make it any earlier than five-thirty,” he told her, glancing at the schedule on his desk calendar. “I’ve got a meeting at three that can’t be postponed. It’s going to be touch and go as it is.”

  Although she liked the idea of seeing a play with him, in the final analysis, it really didn’t matter. Kate would have been equally ha
ppy stuck in traffic with him.

  But even to hint at something like that, she was certain, would make the man not just back away but run for the hills as fast as he could possibly manage. She would enjoy this while it lasted.

  Kate glanced at her watch. She’d already lingered longer than she should have. “I have to get going.”

  “So do I.” He paused for a moment, looking at her. “Would it be out of order if a client kissed his lawyer goodbye?”

  The correct answer was yes. She knew that. Basic client-lawyer relations 101. But “yes” wasn’t the answer she gave him. “It wouldn’t be out of order, just not customary.”

  “A rebel, beautiful and intelligent. Terrific combination,” he told her just before he kissed her.

  She could have easily sunk into the kiss. Easily lost herself as well as all track of time. But that, she knew, would lead to other things and they were, after all, in his office. Any minute, someone could knock and want to come in. How fast could he get dressed? she couldn’t help wondering before she dismissed the whole thought as grossly unprofessional.

  “I’ll see you tonight,” she murmured as she broke away.

  Walking out, she began to count the minutes until five-thirty.

  “Jonah, I can’t just give you that kind of money.” Jackson hated arguing with his brother. He and Kate were on their way out to dinner and he’d just stopped at his house to drop off the report that her friend had compiled for him.

  Jonah had rung the doorbell just as they were about to leave again. Kate had exchanged a few words with his brother, who responded in single syllable answers, and then excused herself to give them privacy.

  The moment she was out of the room, Jonah had pounced, asking him for close to fifty thousand dollars. Now.

  Jonah glared now, his resentment swiftly becoming a viable entity. “You wouldn’t have to if you and your lawyer girlfriend hadn’t blindsided me and somehow stuck my money back into the trust fund. It’s my money,” he insisted.

  They had already been through this two weeks ago, when Jackson had told his brother that he wouldn’t be coming into the money he’d anticipated on his birthday. Jonah had gone pale, then alternated between shouting and pleading, all to no avail. Running out steam, feeling wounded, he’d finally stormed out.

  This visit had started out a little more civil, but it wasn’t about to stay that way.

  “I did it for your own good,” Jackson insisted wearily.

  Jonah glared at him. “Is that what you’re going to say at the funeral? That you did it for my own good?” he shouted. “Don’t you get it?” he demanded, vacillating between anger and fear. “I owe these guys big-time. And trust me, these are not the kind of guys you go around stiffing.”

  “Then why did you go into debt to them?” Jackson wanted to know.

  “I wasn’t planning on owing them money,” Jonah cried. “I was planning on winning.” Desperate, he tried to approach the problem from another angle. “Look, you’re one of the guys in charge of that big bank you work for, aren’t you?”

  Jackson eyed his brother with mounting disbelief. “I can’t just take the money to cover your debts.”

  “Not ‘take,’” Jonah coaxed, “borrow.” He flashed the same brilliant smile that had so often won over their mother.

  It was wasted on Jackson. “Oh, and how are you planning on paying it back?”

  The smile faded a little, giving in to the desperation in his eyes. “I’m good for it.”

  God but he felt tired, Jackson thought. All he wanted to do was go out and eat with Kate, steal a little time alone, not fight the same losing battle over and over again with his brother.

  “Jonah, you’re not even good for coffee. Just how do you think you can pay back the kind of money you’re asking me for?”

  “I’m working on it,” Jonah snapped defensively.

  “Now there’s a novel concept—work,” Jackson noted sarcastically. “You could try working at a job for a change.”

  “Look, man, it’s not my fault I’m blocked. The inspiration just won’t come. I’m trying to loosen up,” he insisted. “That’s why I’m gambling. Gambling relaxes me.”

  “Oh, really?” Jackson shot back. “Well, you certainly don’t look very relaxed to me.”

  “That’s because you’re giving me grief,” Jonah retorted. “You stole my money, now you don’t have the decency to float me a loan.”

  “There’s no such thing as a loan to you, Jonah. This is me you’re talking to. Jackson. The brother who’s ‘loaned’ you a hell of a lot of money over the years. It’s like pitching money into a black hole. Well, it’s over. I’m not going to do it anymore,” Jackson declared with finality. It wasn’t a threat, it was a statement.

  When all else failed, Jonah resorted to his old stand-by. Guilt. “Well, if these guys catch up with me, I guess all of your troubles’ll be solved, won’t they?” he prophesized.

  Kate couldn’t take it anymore. She’d been in the other room, politely waiting for the two brothers to hash things out. But their voices, especially Jonah’s, carried and she could hear everything. The more she listened to the exchange, the more difficult it was for her to remain silent. This was escalating quickly. She had to say something before she exploded.

  When she finally walked back into the living room, the conversation was so heated, neither brother even noticed her. Clearing her throat, Kate raised her voice. “Excuse me.”

  The expression on Jackson’s face appeared strained as he turned in her direction. He was very nearly at the end of his rope. “Not now, Kate.”

  There was no way she was going to be swept away. “Yes, now.”

  A cynical smile twisted Jonah’s mouth. “Is this where I get the benefit of your wisdom, too?”

  Kate moved forward, putting herself between the two brothers as she faced Jonah. “Well, you certainly need to get someone’s because apparently you don’t have any of your own right now. If Jackson covers this latest debt of yours, what are you going to do?”

  “Drop to my knees and worship you?” It ended in a question, as if he wanted to see if he’d guessed the response she was after.

  “Wrong,” she said flatly. “You’re going to take the money to pay off the debt—”

  Jonah looked at her as if she was mentally feeble. “Well, yeah, sure—”

  Kate held up her hand to stop him from saying anything more. “Let me finish. You’re going to pay off the debt, then you’re going into rehab.”

  His immediate reaction was anger. “I don’t have a drug problem anymore.”

  “No, you have a gambling problem now,” Jackson said, joining forces with Kate. “You just substitute one addiction for another.”

  “You are going to get yourself under control,” Kate continued as if there’d been no interruption from either of them. “And you’re going to paint again.”

  “You think I haven’t tried to paint?” Jonah said, obviously offended.

  “Yes, I think you haven’t tried to paint,” Kate replied calmly. “But you’re going to. Okay, to review and continue, Jackson pays off your debt, you go into rehab, get yourself straightened out, join Gamblers Anonymous when you get out and every single day, you are going to work at getting your gift back. No excuses,” she underscored.

  Jackson looked at Kate with renewed appreciation and not a little admiration.

  “And if I refuse to go to rehab?” Jonah challenged belligerently.

  This time, it was Jackson who fielded the challenge. “I won’t give you the money.”

  Jonah turned on him. “You’d let me get killed?” he asked hotly.

  “I hope it won’t come to that,” Jackson said in a calmer voice than he’d used earlier. It belied the inner turmoil he actually felt. “I’m hoping that somewhere in there is still a piece of the brother I used to idolize.”

  Stumped, his back to the wall, Jonah shoved his hands into his pockets. His eyes shifted from Jackson to Kate and back again. “There’s
no other way?”

  Kate shook her head. “No other way.” Her voice was firm.

  Jonah let out a shaky breath. “I guess I have no choice, then.” He raised his eyes and glanced at Kate. “I’ve done this before, you know. Gone to rehab. This is the end result,” he told her bitterly, indicating himself.

  “This time it’ll stick,” Kate said with conviction.

  Jonah laughed shortly. “You’re some kind of cock-eyed optimist, aren’t you?”

  “Part-time,” she allowed.

  Jackson looked at his brother. “I liked the other women you dated better. They were bimbos who didn’t interfere.”

  “I’m the family lawyer,” Kate reminded him. “It’s my job to see that things run smoothly for you.”

  Jonah sighed. “I could bully Mortie,” he said with a degree of nostalgia.

  A hint of a smile played along her lips. “I’m not Mortie.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Shoulders slumped, Jonah gave in. “Okay, we’ll give your way a try.”

  Kate smiled. “Glad to hear it.”

  Jackson said nothing, but she felt his approval as he slipped his arm around her waist. She assumed that wasn’t something that he’d ever done with Mortie.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jackson leaned against the door he had just closed and watched Kate for a long moment.

  “Do you have any idea how incredibly sexy you look to me right now?” he asked. Jonah had just left, a check in his pocket. That had been Kate’s doing, as had Jonah’s promise to enter rehab. If his brother reneged, the check would immediately be rendered null and void.

  The woman was definitely a ray of sunshine in his life—in both their lives, Jackson silently amended. He was beginning to forget what life was like without her.

  “No, actually, I don’t.” And then Kate smiled that inviting smile of hers. “But I’m hoping that you’ll tell me.”

  He crossed to her, a wicked smile on his lips. “Better yet, I can show you.”

  “Better yet, you can show me,” she agreed, her smile entering her eyes.