by Karen Booth
“Any prospects?” Mindy asked.
“I’m out of here if you’re going to talk about guys,” Sam said, turning away. “I don’t do well with this subject when it comes to my sister.”
Isabel grabbed his arm. “Oh, stop. We’re not going to talk about that because there’s nothing to say. I need to get an apartment. There are a million other things for me to accomplish before I can seriously think about dating. I have to find an office and get my new practice up and running.”
“Don’t put it off too long,” Mindy said. She then cast her sights at Sam. “Are there any cute, eligible guys working for you right now? Maybe you can set her up.”
Sam shook his head. “Something tells me she doesn’t want that.”
In truth, Isabel might not mind it. If Sam picked out a man for her, she’d not only know that he had been fully vetted, she’d have the knowledge that Sam approved. That was no small matter. “We’ll see how I do. For now, let’s sit down and talk about the case.” Isabel was resigned to moving forward with this, and the sooner she started, the sooner she’d be done. So she’d delay her fresh start a few weeks. It wasn’t the end of the world.
“Come on,” Mindy said. “We’re going to meet in Emma’s office. It’s the biggest. It used to belong to my gram.”
Gram, or Victoria Eden, was the founder of Eden’s Department Store, which at its height had more than fifty stores worldwide. Unfortunately, the chain was now down to a single location, the original Manhattan store. Mrs. Eden had passed away unexpectedly a little more than a year ago, and left the business to Mindy, her sister, Sophie, and their half sister, Emma. It was a bit of a tawdry story—all three women had the same father, and their two mothers were also sisters. Victoria Eden had brought the affair to light via her will, where she told everyone of her son’s dalliance in an attempt to give Emma some justice.
Inside the office, Emma and Sophie were waiting. Isabel had met them both at a fund-raiser a month and a half ago, which was also when Sam and Mindy had finally figured out that they were desperately in love. Mindy made reintroductions and they all sat in the seating area—Isabel and Sophie on the couch, Sam in one chair with Mindy perched on the arm, and Emma opposite them.
“I guess we need to walk you through as much of this as we know,” Mindy said. “I wish we had more information, but until a few weeks ago, we had no idea who Benjamin Summers was.”
“He claims that our grandmother had an affair with his father, which is utterly preposterous,” Sophie said. “Gram was devoted to our grandfather for as long as he was alive.”
“Please, Soph. Can you not do this right now? Let me finish,” Mindy said, returning her sights to Isabel. “This would have been nearly forty years ago if it really happened. Early days for the store, but our grandmother was doing well and by all accounts, very eager to expand. That’s when Mr. Summers, the father, comes into play. Supposedly he lent our grandmother a quarter of a million dollars so she could open additional locations.”
“That was a lot of money at that time,” Isabel said. “And this is a handwritten promissory note?”
“Yes,” Mindy said. “We’ve been going back through the store’s old financials and bank records, but we can’t find any record of an influx of money. There are large chunks of cash flowing into the store at that time, but it could have just been sales. Unfortunately, the accounting from that time is nowhere near as exact as it is now. Most of it is on paper.”
Isabel’s gears were starting to turn. As much as she’d said she didn’t want to do this sort of work anymore—untangling the pasts of wealthy people—she had to admit that she had a real knack for it, and that made her feel as though she was ready to tackle it. “The first thing we’re going to need to do is get the promissory note authenticated. There’s a good chance it’s not real.”
“Do you think it could be a fake?” Emma asked.
“You’d be surprised the lengths people will go to in order to cash in.”
“But Mr. Summers is so wealthy,” Mindy said. “Why would he do that?”
Isabel sat back and crossed her legs. “It might not be the cash. It might be the store he’s after.”
“No. We can’t let that happen,” Sophie blurted.
Isabel didn’t want to be the bearer of bad tidings. Losing the store was a real possibility. For now, Isabel needed to get up to speed on the materials in the case and see where the Eden sisters stood. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Give me some time to look over everything. I have several different financial detectives I’ve worked with in the past. They’re going to need access to your records to see if we can figure out if the money ever flowed into the store at all.”
“How long is all of that going to take?” Mindy asked.
“A few days to a few weeks. It just depends.”
Mindy cleared her throat and Isabel sensed something bad was about to come to light. “Yeah. About that. We don’t have that kind of time. Mr. Summers’s lawyer sent a letter to the Eden’s in-house counsel today. He’s threatening a lawsuit right away if we don’t come to the negotiating table tomorrow.”
Isabel blinked several times while trying to absorb what Mindy had just said. “Mr. Summers not only wants us to start negotiating tomorrow, his lawyer isn’t even aware the store is employing outside counsel?”
“We thought a sneak attack was the best approach. They’re expecting someone else. Not Isabel Blackwell, Washington, DC, fixer.”
Isabel cringed at the words. She didn’t want to be that person anymore.
Sam sat forward and placed his hand on his sister’s knee. “I have to agree. The store is too important to the Eden family for us to be anything less than completely strategic about this. They’ll prepare for a corporate negotiation, not having any idea who they’re dealing with.”
Isabel took a deep breath, trying to ignore the way her already soured stomach grew even more uneasy. “Can I see the letter they sent?”
“Yes. Of course.” Mindy hopped up from her seat and grabbed a thin folder from Emma’s desk, handing it to Isabel.
Inside was a single page—the letter inviting Eden’s Department Store’s legal representation to the negotiating table. All looked in order until Isabel saw the name on the signature line. Then the blood drained from her face.
Jeremy Sharp. Oh my God.
Her big meeting tomorrow with the lawyer representing the man who wanted to take down Eden’s Department Store? It would be the second run-in with her one-night stand. And apparently, they were about to go from the bedroom to the war room.
Four
“I don’t want you to worry,” Jeremy said as he escorted Benjamin Summers into one of the meeting rooms at Sharp and Sharp. “We have everything well in hand.”
Mr. Summers turned to Jeremy and narrowed his eyes until they were only small slits. “Why aren’t we meeting in the main conference room? The one with the big windows. The one you can see from the waiting room.”
Jeremy pulled back a chair and offered Mr. Summers a seat. “Because this is more discreet.” In truth, Jeremy preferred it because it meant his father couldn’t interfere unless he walked right in on them. Jeremy had been in many client meetings where his dad paced back and forth outside that main conference room. It was unnerving as hell.
Mr. Summers sat in a huff. Jeremy hadn’t spent a lot of time with him, but he’d always been like this—gruff and impatient. “I’m not worried about discretion. If anything, I’d prefer not to have it. I’d like the whole world to know that I’m going after Eden’s. Victoria Eden destroyed my parents’ marriage and this is the only way I can seek retribution on behalf of my mother.”
Jeremy poured Mr. Summers a glass of water, hoping that might help to cool his temper. “I don’t think it’s a great idea to bring that up in this meeting. I know it’s difficult to curb your personal feelings about the ma
tter, but we need to focus on the bottom line, which is a very large unpaid debt.”
Mr. Summers cleared his throat and tapped his fingers on the table. “Fine. I’ll take your advice.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“For now.”
One of the admins in the office poked his head into the conference room. “Mr. Sharp, the Eden’s representatives and legal team have arrived. Shall I show them in?”
Jeremy turned to Mr. Summers, hoping he could get him to remain calm and collected. “Are you ready, Mr. Summers?”
“More than I’ve ever been.”
Jeremy stood and straightened his jacket, then made his way to the door. The in-house counsel for Eden’s was a crew of white-haired older men, much like his dad and Mr. Summers. He knew he could handle this easily as long as everyone could set aside their egos. But when he glanced down the hall, a stunning vision came into view—a woman who was not easy to handle. Isabel.
What the hell? For an instant, Jeremy shrank back from the door, his mind whirring with thoughts, even when there was no time to think. Before he knew what was happening, Isabel, along with another woman and a very tall man, were being led into the room by Jeremy’s admin. “Mr. Sharp, this is Mindy Eden, COO of Eden’s Department Store.”
Mindy, willowy and poised with flame-red hair, offered her hand. “Mr. Sharp.”
“Special adviser to Eden’s, Sam Blackwell,” his admin continued.
Sam, towering and dressed in black, shook Jeremy’s hand. “Hello.”
“And lastly, Isabel Blackwell, special counsel for Eden’s.”
Isabel stepped forward, but her beguiling scent arrived a split second before her. It filled his nose, and that sent memories storming into his mind—their white-hot tryst in her hotel room was not anything he would forget anytime soon. Unfortunately, he couldn’t afford to think about what her luscious naked body looked like under her trim gray suit. He was too busy trying to tamp down his inner confusion. Had she known who he was when she seduced him? Had she seen him in the bar with Mr. Summers a mere fifteen minutes before the fire alarm sounded?
“It’s nice to meet you.” Isabel offered her hand. He’d noticed that night that her skin was unusually warm, but right now he felt as though he’d been burned.
Jeremy cleared his throat. “Nice to meet you, as well.” He gestured to the other side of the long mahogany table, more rattled than when he’d worked his very first case. He couldn’t help but feel as though they were being ambushed. He’d been led to believe that Eden’s in-house counsel would be handling this. Unless Isabel was a new addition to their team, she was a ringer. “Please have a seat.”
Isabel sat directly opposite Jeremy. The look on her face was difficult to decipher, but he reminded himself that he hardly knew her. What were her motives? What sort of person was she? Most important, what was her endgame? For a man with countless trust issues when it came to women, this was not only bringing all that to the surface in an uncomfortable way, it felt as though Isabel had opened an entirely new area of mistrust to explore. He deeply disliked the revelation.
Jeremy drew in a calming breath. Focus. He looked Isabel square in the eye. She met his gaze with steely composure. On the surface, she was quite simply stunning. Easily the sexiest woman he’d ever met. But he sensed now that beneath that flawless exterior was a woman who was at the very least, trouble. He didn’t want to regret the other night, but perhaps he should. Would he feel as though he was at less of a disadvantage right now if it hadn’t happened? “Ms. Blackwell, your client’s grandmother borrowed 250 million dollars from Mr. Summers’s father in 1982. She offered the Manhattan location of Eden’s Department Store, the building, inventory and the land it sits on as collateral. By our calculations, with standard interest adjusted for inflation and compounded monthly, that unpaid loan now sits at a balance of just over 842 million.”
“You have got to be kidding,” Mindy Eden scoffed. “Why not just round it up to an even billion?”
Isabel placed her hand on Mindy’s forearm, then smiled at Jeremy, the picture of cool composure. “And what exactly would Mr. Summers like for us to do about that?”
Jeremy had no choice but to continue. “As it’s been nearly forty years, Mr. Summers expects the loan to be repaid in cash within thirty days or we’ll begin proceedings to claim the property.”
Isabel nodded, then licked her lips, making Jeremy clutch the arm of his chair. “Any talk of property seizure is premature, Mr. Sharp. Frankly, my client had never even heard of Mr. Summers prior to the letter your team sent to the Eden’s offices, so I don’t know how the Eden family should be expected to simply hand over the keys to a multibillion-dollar business and property without exploring this matter as thoroughly as possible.”
Jeremy knew he should be feeling as though he’d been put on notice, but he only felt incredibly turned on. Blood was coursing through his body so fast it was making his head swim. Oh, Isabel was good.
“My first priority is to determine the authenticity of the promissory note,” Isabel continued, her cheeks flushed with brilliant pink. “We can’t be expected to proceed without an expert analysis of the document. I’m not convinced it’s authentic or that it has Victoria Eden’s true signature on it.”
This was not good news. And yet Jeremy noticed a significant tightening in his pants.
“Are you calling me a liar?” Mr. Summers bellowed.
Jeremy turned to his client. “Please, Ben,” he muttered. “I’ve got this.”
“It’s a handwritten note, Mr. Summers.” Isabel’s voice was direct and cutting, while her chest was heaving in a way that brought back entirely too many memories of the night at the Bacharach—having Isabel at his mercy, in her bed. “Anyone could have produced it. You could have fabricated it last week for all we know.”
“It’s real. I have no reason to lie,” Benjamin said.
Isabel’s eyebrows shot up. “From where I’m sitting, you have 842 million reasons to lie. Do you have financial problems I should know about, Mr. Summers? Is that what I’m going to find when I start looking into your businesses?”
“Ms. Blackwell,” Jeremy said as a warning, stopping himself from uttering what he really wanted to say—Ms. Blackwell, you and I need to hash this out on our own. Alone. On this conference table. But he had to get his act together. “Ms. Blackwell, I’ll thank you not to speak to my client directly, especially when you’re accusing him of things that have no basis in fact. Mr. Summers is not on trial here.”
“If he’s going to get ugly about the matter in front of my client, I’m afraid I have no other choice. This is not as cut-and-dried as you’re trying to paint it.”
Jeremy sensed this meeting was starting to go off the rails and he had to get it back on track. More than anything, he really needed to ask Isabel a few questions that were not appropriate in front of their respective clients. “Ms. Blackwell, would you mind asking your clients to wait out in the lobby? I’ll ask Mr. Summers to adjourn to my office so that you and I can discuss the terms of determining the authenticity of the note.”
Isabel lifted her chin and narrowed her sights on Jeremy, seeming suspicious. “I’ll give you five minutes.”
I’d rather have ten. “Certainly.”
Isabel turned to Mindy and Sam, and they conferred with heads bowed. Jeremy took his chance to chat with Mr. Summers.
“I don’t like being taken out of the negotiations,” Mr. Summers said in response.
“I assure you, this will be nothing more than boring legalese. Plus, it’ll give me a chance to find out more of what exactly their strategy is. This isn’t the usual Eden’s team.”
“It isn’t? I expect my lawyer to know details like that.”
Jeremy looked over at Isabel as she got up from the table and made way for Mindy and Sam to leave the conference room. “In my experience,
these things rarely go the way you think they will.”
* * *
Isabel accompanied Sam and Mindy out to the luxe Sharp and Sharp lobby. With dark wood, soft light and tufted navy leather settees, it spoke of old money and an organization steeped in tradition. Isabel could only imagine how her life would have been different if she’d come to New York instead of Washington, DC, and gotten her start at a firm like this, where business was done aboveboard. Sure, Mr. Summers had made a spectacle in the meeting, but it was nothing more than a man, accustomed to getting everything he wanted, kicking up dust because she and the Eden family were not going to go down without a fight. It wasn’t a real roll in the mud, one where people make threats to destroy other people’s lives.
“Is this normal?” Sam whispered at Isabel. His body language suggested pure agitation. His back was stiff as a board. “For the other lawyer to kick everybody out of the room?”
Isabel surveyed the lobby, which was unoccupied except for the receptionist, who was on the phone. If they were going to discuss this, they needed privacy. She placed her hand on Sam’s arm. She wasn’t entirely sure what Jeremy’s motives were, but she was curious. Their short string of quipping back and forth had really gotten her running hot. And damn, the man could rock a suit unlike any other. “I think he was trying to get his client to cool down. Which I think is for the best. Plus, I didn’t want him saying anything disparaging in front of Mindy.”
“Why?” Mindy asked. “You know I can take it.”
Isabel laughed quietly. “I know you can. It’s more that we need to walk a fine line between being tough and not escalating anything. Summers and Sharp are going to be all about taking things up a notch. It’s my job to walk everything back.”
“But you were the one who threatened to look into his business,” Mindy said.
“I know. He still needs to know we’re serious. And I had to let him know that I won’t hestiate to call his bluff.” What Isabel really meant to say was that old habits died hard.
