A Christmas Rendezvous

by Karen Booth

  “I’m so happy right now.”

  A heavy sigh left her lips, equal parts contentment and worry. “Me, too,” she replied, hoping against hope that this happiness would last.

  Twelve

  Isabel’s worries about being pregnant had manifested themselves in some very specific dreams. The truly odd part was that they were still lingering, at least in her head. Half-awake with her eyes still shut, she heard tiny cries—baby wails so peculiar they didn’t sound human.

  “The kittens.” She bolted upright, blinking in the early light of Jeremy’s bedroom. She reached over and shook his arm. “Jeremy. I think Cat had her babies.”

  “What?” He managed to make disorientation adorable, lifting his head off the pillow, then plopping it back down. “We don’t have to do anything, right? You told me she can take care of them on her own.”

  Typical guy. “We don’t have to do anything, but don’t you want to make sure she’s okay? That the babies are okay?” She tore back the comforter and tiptoed over to the closet door, turning on the light. She wasn’t too worried about scaring Cat or the babies—it was plenty dark in their little corner. “Don’t you want to see how many there are? Or what they look like?”

  “Oh. Uh. Sure.” He sat up in bed and flipped on the light on his bedside table, pushing his sexy bedhead hair off his face. “I’m coming.”

  Isabel tiptoed into the closet and pulled back Jeremy’s shirts, peeking down into the box. Suckling Cat’s belly were two tiny kittens; both appeared to be orange, although their fur was still matted. A third, with orange, gray and white patches, was blindly wandering around the box, crawling on its belly and mewing. Cat looked completely spent, asleep on her side.

  “I thought they would be cuter,” Jeremy said, peering over Isabel’s shoulder. “Kittens are supposed to be cute.”

  Isabel shook her head and looked back at him. “Not at first. Not really. They’ll be plenty cute in a few days.”

  “I’ll have to trust you on that one.”

  He consulted his Apple watch. “It’s nearly seven thirty, which seems way too early a time to be up on a Sunday morning, but I guess we’re up, huh? Should I go make coffee?”

  “That would be great. Bring me a cup?” She made herself at home on the floor, right next to the box.

  “Are we spending our whole day in the closet?”

  “I just want to sit here a little while. Make sure they’re doing okay before we leave Cat to it.”

  He leaned down and pecked the top of her head. “I will not begrudge you your kitten time.”

  Isabel turned her attention to the box, watching as the stray kitten finally found her way to Cat’s belly. It had been a long time since she’d been around this scene. She’d been a teenager the last time their family had newborn kittens in the house. Even all these years later, witnessing this made her feel connected to her mom. She pressed her hand to her lower belly, wondering what her body would ultimately tell her. She’d have been lying if she said she didn’t desperately want a baby and to become a mom. But she wanted it all—true love and a partner. She would do this on her own, but it wasn’t what her heart desired.

  Jeremy returned and handed her a cup of coffee. “Good?” he asked, distracted by his iPad.

  “Yes. Perfect.” It was prepared exactly the way she liked it, with a splash of cream and one sugar.

  “Good. Because here’s where I have to ruin your day. There’s a story in the paper this morning. Apparently somebody found love letters written to Victoria Eden by Mr. Summers’s father. And the papers decided to publish them.”

  Isabel felt all of the blood drain from her face. No no no. She scrambled to standing and took the tablet from Jeremy when he offered it to her. There in black and white were the letters she and Mindy had discovered that afternoon in her grandmother’s apartment. They had agreed to hide them away. They had agreed that no good came of anyone seeing them.

  “How did you find out about this?” She felt her entire body go tight, fearing the answer.

  “Summers, of course. Nothing gets past that guy. He texted me a link and asked me to call him, but I wanted to talk to you first. What the hell, Isabel? I thought we had a deal. I thought we were putting this whole thing to rest.”

  “We do have a deal.” She hated seeing the expression on his face—the sheer disappointment was excruciating. Meanwhile, her mind was racing, wondering how this could have possibly happened. “Why are you looking at me like that? I didn’t do this.”

  “Your clients must have done it. There’s no other explanation.” He took the tablet from her hand and stalked out of the closet.

  She followed him back into his room. “But that doesn’t make any sense. Why would they do this? Especially when I specifically asked Mindy not to?”

  The look on Jeremy’s face when he turned around told her what a grave error she’d made. She’d grown so comfortable with him that she’d let down her guard. He didn’t know about the letters. She’d never said a peep about them, not even after he’d called to let her know that the promissory note had been authenticated. “Please tell me you didn’t plan this. Please tell me this isn’t a trademark Isabel Blackwell move.”

  That stung like no other thing he could have said. “Jeremy, no. I didn’t plan this. I don’t know what to tell you, but I didn’t have anything to do with this story.”

  “Did you know about the letters?”

  A sigh left her lips involuntarily and he stormed out of the room. “Jeremy, wait!” She ran out into the hall after him, grabbing his arm just as he reached the top of the landing. “Please let me explain. Yes, I knew about the letters. Mindy and I found them right before the promissory note was authenticated.”

  “But you still waited for me to call you and tell you about the authentication. Even when you knew at that point that it was all real? The affair between Mr. Summers’s father and Victoria Eden was real?”

  “Of course I waited. You would have done the same thing in my situation.”

  He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, not saying a thing.

  “You would have. You know it.”

  “Of course I would have, Isabel. My first duty is to my client. Which only illustrates how far you and I have crossed the line together. And now I have feelings for you and what in the hell am I supposed to do about that?”

  She sharply sucked in a breath. “Feelings?” She had feelings for him, too, but she didn’t have the nerve to express them now. The thought of sitting down and examining them, or daring to put a label on them, was too terrifying an idea. Meanwhile, there was no sign of her period and the drugstore was scheduled to deliver a pregnancy test at any time.

  “Please don’t throw my word back at me like I’ve said something horrible. We’ve had a great weekend together and now we’re right back where we started except that it’s quite possibly worse. I don’t see any way that Summers is going to agree to a single term you and I so carefully worked out. The entire deal is off as far as I’m concerned.”

  Isabel’s stomach sank. She’d not only disappointed Jeremy, she was about to crush the entire Eden family and her brother, for that matter. Best-case scenario, Eden’s would end up embroiled in a legal battle for months, one that would cost them untold sums of money. Mr. Summers had been headed for the warpath from the very beginning and it was only understandable that this story in the papers would convince him it was the only course. Mindy and Isabel had found the letters extremely romantic when they read them, but there was no doubt that they were the flowery ramblings of a man smitten with a woman who was not his wife. They were a chronicle of lust, passion, obsession and ultimately, infidelity. They told the story of two people casting aside the sanctity of marriage.

  “Please. Let me talk to Mindy and Sophie. Let me get to the bottom of this.”

  “I don’t see what good it’
s going to do, but I’m not going to prevent you from doing whatever you need to do to take care of your client.”

  “Gee, thanks. That’s so generous of you.” Isabel retreated to the guest room, fuming and upset and uncharacteristically on the brink of tears. Normally when things went wrong with a case, she immediately went on the offensive. Right now, she wanted to crumple into a ball and hide. She got out her phone and called her brother.

  “Hey. What’s up?” he asked, sounding as though he was still recovering from his cold.

  “Have you seen the papers?”

  “No. Why?”

  Isabel gave Sam a quick recap. “So I need to know if Mindy fed this story to the newspapers.”

  “I don’t see how she possibly could have. At least not in the last few days. She’s been completely out of it on cold medicine. The only person she’s talked to has been Sophie.”

  Isabel felt like a light bulb had been flicked on above her head. Sophie was the most likely person to do something like this. When Isabel had tried to calm her down the other morning, she was all ready to hire a PR person and take Mr. Summers down. “Okay. Thanks. I need to call her and talk to her.”

  “Are we in hot water because of this?” Sam asked.

  Isabel wasn’t about to couch it. “I’d say we’re about to boil.”

  Unfortunately, when Isabel called Sophie’s cell, all she got was voice mail. She left a message, asking—no, begging—for Sophie to call her back. Then she flopped back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, wondering how she was possibly ever going to get herself out of this.

  * * *

  Jeremy had sought the solitude of his office, closing the door behind him. He wasn’t interested in Isabel’s excuses or reasoning. All he could think about were the things he’d learned about her the first time he’d looked into her career trajectory and discovered what she’d done in Washington, DC. This was straight out of the Isabel Blackwell playbook—when one party can destroy you, you destroy them first. Although he didn’t want to make this situation about him, this was far too much like the things Kelsey had done to him. His heart legitimately went out to Mr. Summers. Who wants to read a newspaper article where their father, in his own words, professes his love for someone who isn’t his wife?

  He couldn’t believe he’d fallen back into bed with Isabel. He couldn’t believe he’d let himself get so carried away again. Even five minutes ago out in the hall with her—why had he uttered that word? Feelings? For someone who was supposed to be exceptionally good with words, he’d sure chosen a terrible one. Right now, he had a few too many feelings coursing through his system, anger being pretty high on the list. Everyone was pissing him off—the Eden sisters, the situation and honestly, even Isabel.

  Jeremy’s phone, which was facedown on his desk, beeped with a text. Then another. He flipped over the device and scanned the screen.

  The first message was from his father. Summers case is no longer under your control. We need to take down Blackwell.

  The second was from a reporter, and just because today seemed to be hell-bent on destroying him, it was the same one who’d sought Jeremy’s comment after Kelsey ran her smear piece. Can we talk re: the Benjamin Summers lawsuit?

  Before he spoke to either of those people, he needed to call Ben. He didn’t want to risk him talking to his father first. “Ben. Good morning. I got your text,” Jeremy said, wanting to be as upbeat and diplomatic as possible, even though it felt like the world was crumbling around him.

  “It appears that the shoe is on the other foot, doesn’t it? I’m embarrassed beyond words at the atrocity in the papers this morning, but I suppose I should be thankful that the Eden’s team has finally shown their true colors.”

  “I don’t know about that. We’re still trying to get to the bottom of exactly what happened.” Why was it his inclination to try to walk any of this back? Logic said that he should be going for the jugular right now, but the truth was that he just wanted this done. He couldn’t spend more time with Isabel. She’d shown that she was just as capable of inflicting damage as any woman he’d ever allowed himself to get close to. He needed this case to be over. “I have to tell you that Ms. Blackwell and I worked out some extremely favorable terms for you on Friday. It’s an attractive offer, and yes, today might give us additional leverage for perhaps a few more concessions, but I don’t think we should throw the whole thing out the window because of one story in a tabloid.”

  “And I’d think you would be happy about this. Don’t lawyers love leverage?”

  “Not when it means that we needlessly drag something out for longer than it needs to go.” He could see this going on for months and months, during which he would have to battle Isabel. He didn’t want that. Frankly, he wanted this whole thing to go away so he could decide for himself, without any outside intrusion, whether he could trust her. Whether they could be something.

  “Do you have these supposed favorable terms for me to look at?” Mr. Summers asked.

  “I’m in the process of drawing them up. We can meet tomorrow morning if that works for you.”

  “Fine. Nine o’clock. My office.”

  “Absolutely. I will be there.”

  “And if I’m not happy, I’m prepared to drop the gloves and go to war.” The line went dead before Jeremy had a chance to respond. Not that he had anything to say. He’d wait until tomorrow to do battle with Mr. Summers.

  Of course, now he had no choice but to call his dad and explain what was going on. As the phone rang, dread began to build in his system, and all Jeremy could think was that this entire situation was wrong, starting with the fact that he couldn’t stand to speak to a man he should have been able to trust and confide in—his own father.

  “I just got off the phone with Mr. Summers,” Jeremy started. “We’re meeting tomorrow morning. I’m presenting the terms of the negotiation to him. I’m hoping he can put aside what happened in the papers today and agree to everything. He’ll get his money. He’ll get that and more.”

  “That’s not even my worry anymore, Jeremy. My concern is that you have caused irreparable damage to our firm’s reputation. You’re making us look like a bunch of hacks.”

  “Dad. I’m not a public relations guy. I have no control over what runs in the newspaper.”

  “But if you had put this case to bed at that first meeting, if you had the nerve to be ruthless with Ms. Blackwell, we wouldn’t be having this discussion.”

  “It wouldn’t have changed the tabloid story. That still could have run.”

  “And Summers would have had his settlement by then. At that point, Sharp and Sharp would only be bandied about as the firm who had come out on top. Instead, we’re flopping around like a fish out of water.” His father cleared his throat. “I think I need to level the playing field.”

  “By doing what exactly?”

  “We need to get rid of Ms. Blackwell. Get Eden’s to fire her.”

  “They won’t fire her. Her brother is engaged to Mindy Eden. He’s a special adviser to the store.” Jeremy couldn’t explain further, about how Isabel felt like she was part of the Eden family and how it all meant a great deal to her. He couldn’t divulge his personal involvement with her. It would infuriate his father to no end, and Jeremy had to admit, he would be justified in being angry.

  “Trust me, they’ll get rid of her when she’s a liability, and I know exactly how to make that happen. Then they’ll hand it over to their in-house counsel. You can steamroller those guys in your sleep.”

  “Dad. Please don’t do anything reckless. Just let me meet with Summers tomorrow morning and see where we get. Just give me this one last chance.”

  Thirteen

  Monday morning had arrived, which meant it was do-or-die time. Jeremy would be leaving the house in a half hour to meet with Mr. Summers. He hoped that Ben had taken some time to cool off. He hoped th
at he could see that there was no point in letting pride get in the way. It was time for an agreement. An armistice. That was the best-case scenario for Jeremy and he wanted it so badly he could taste it.

  Sunday had been horrible—Jeremy stewing in his office and Isabel in the guest room, tucked away. Their only real interaction came when she got a delivery and he brought it to her room.

  “This came from the drugstore.” He handed her the paper shopping bag, hating that he felt as though he had to stay out of a room in his own house.

  “Thank you,” she said, clutching it to her chest. “I got a call from the Bacharach and I can move back in on Tuesday morning. If you want, I can see if Mindy and Sam can take me in. Or maybe I could stay in Mindy’s grandmother’s old apartment.”

  “Don’t do that. Just stay. It’s fine.” He desperately wanted that to be true. It was killing him to not be where they’d been mere hours before that, enjoying each other’s company, touching each other, kissing.

  “I know this story just made everything worse. And I’m really sorry for that. I still don’t know what happened, but I will get to the bottom of it. I wish I had something you could tell Mr. Summers, but I don’t.”

  “Okay. I still plan to meet with him tomorrow morning. No telling what he’s going to say, but I will present our agreement to him if you still want me to.”

  Isabel had picked at her fingernail, seeming to want any reason to not look at him. “I’ll do the same and I guess we’ll just see where we end up?”

  He nodded in agreement. “Do you want something to eat?”

  She shook her head. “Not right now. Maybe later. I’m tired and I have work to do.”

  “Okay then. Let me know if you need anything.” He’d been about to walk away when she said one more thing.

  “I checked on the kittens while you were in your office. I made sure Cat got some food and water. They seem like they’re doing well.”

  “Good. Thank you.”