Balancing Act (The Santa Monica Trilogy Book 3) (5 page)

Zach followed her out of the building and down the street. It was rush hour, and Wilshire was bumper-to-bumper. Angie slowed her pace along the pitted sidewalk, cursing the vanity that had prompted her to don high heels that morning.

Zach matched her stride. “Why do you wear those things if you can’t walk in them?”

“I can walk in them.”

“You’re limping,” he said.

She slowed down even more, watching for cracks in the pavement. “No I’m not.”

“I can give you a ride.” He nodded toward the underground parking structure across the street. “My car’s over there.”

“No thanks.”

“The sky is blue.”

She glanced at him. “What?”

“Just wondering if you’d contradict me on principle alone.”

She glanced up. “For your information, the sky is gray. See those clouds? It might even rain.”

“This early in the season?” he scoffed. “No way.”

“See, I’m not the only one who likes to argue.”

“Touché,” he said. “So, how about that ride? In case it does rain.”

“I’m fine. Besides, in this traffic it’ll take longer to drive than to walk.”

“You couldn’t find more comfortable shoes?”

She glanced sideways at him. “They’re Jimmy Choos.”

“So?”

“I like the way they look.”

He snorted. “Looks aren’t everything, you know.”

“Right,” she said. “That’s why you only date cover models.”

His brows shot up. “Jean’s not a cover model.”

“She’s not ugly, either.”

“No. She isn’t.” He paused beside her at the light. People in business suits trickled out of nearby buildings and joined them at the corner, waiting for the signal to change. “But that’s irrelevant. She didn’t deserve to be attacked.”

“I didn’t attack her.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, this was a deposition, not a garden party.”

“I know.” Someone jostled them from behind, and Zach steadied her with a hand around her upper arm. “But just because you’re angry with me, doesn’t give you the right to take it out on Jean.”

She shook off his hand. “Why would you think I’m angry with you?”

“You basically accused me of impropriety.”

“You were sleeping with the person instrumental in getting your company’s project approved.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Jean told you exactly what happened. There was nothing inappropriate about what either of us did.”

“Would you admit it if there was?”

He frowned. The light turned green and the crowd surged forward across six lanes of gridlocked traffic.

Angie nodded and stepped off the curb. “I didn’t think so. And anyway, the perception of impropriety can be just as bad.”

“Oh, that’s rich, coming from you.”

“Excuse me?”

“This thing you have with Fitzpatrick,” he said. “You want to talk propriety? How appropriate was it for an associate to have an affair with a senior partner?”

She glanced around to see if anyone was paying attention, then lowered her voice. “You know nothing about it.”

“I know enough. What did you call the time you spent in bed with him? Billable hours?”

The words hit her like a two-by-four to the solar plexus. She stopped, unable to even formulate a coherent response.

A car horn blasted nearby, and Zach pulled her out of the way, onto the sidewalk. He didn’t let go until they were standing beneath the overhang of a nearby building. There, he faced her, his body providing a buffer against the stream of pedestrians that continued to flow past.

“You had to have known what it would look like,” he said.

She stared at his chest. “What happened then has no bearing on this case.”

He leaned in, bracing a palm against the brick wall behind her. “Are you still sleeping with him?”

“None of your business.”

“What if I want to make it my business?”

Her eyes flew to his. “You can’t be serious.”

“Try me.”

Her breath seized beneath the dark intensity of his gaze. “Zach…”

“How can you not see that the man is bad news?”

She blinked and forced her frozen limbs to move. Hadn’t they circled this same territory by phone, less than a month ago? What was Zach trying to accomplish by bringing it up again?

Her shoulder brushed his chest as she ducked beneath his arm and out onto the sidewalk. She’d gone less than a dozen steps before she felt his presence behind her.

“For God’s sake,” he said, catching up. “The man cheated on you.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“Why are you still defending him
?”

“Because he’s not the guilty party here.”

“Then who is?”

She frowned. “Fine. You’ve made your point. You didn’t behave inappropriately, even if a judge might perceive it that way.”

“You’re not still planning to use that tactic, are you?”

She nearly smiled at his aggrieved tone. “Don’t worry. I’ve got plenty more in reserve.”

He continued at her side in silence as they crossed a side street and veered toward the heart of Westwood Village.

Eventually, when he showed no signs of turning around, Angie glanced at him. “I thought you said your car was back there.”

“It is. But this time of day, it’ll take me forever to get home.”

“Really?” She realized she had no clue where he lived. Odd, when she knew so much about him that was way more personal. “Where’s home?”

“Marina Del Rey. On the water.”

That sounded vaguely familiar. “Didn’t S&L build some luxury condos there a while back?”

“Yep. Our first big development. I got a good deal on a penthouse suite.”

Angie rolled her eyes. Figured.

“Don’t knock it till you see it,” he said. “Ten foot ceilings, a wall of glass overlooking the ocean. I can lie in bed and see the sun set over the water.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

He shot her an assessing glance. “You don’t have to take my word for it. Come over, experience it for yourself.”

She couldn’t tell if he was seriously hitting on her or just trying to throw her off balance.

Time to shift the conversation back to safer ground. Before she forgot why mingling their personal lives was a bad idea, and did something really stupid, like take him up on his offer.

She said the first thing that popped into her head. “Why did you and Jeannine break up?”

The slight hitch in his stride was the only sign that he’d heard the question. Seconds dragged into minutes. Just when she thought he wouldn’t answer, Zach said, “She wanted to get married.”

“To
you
? After six months?”

“You’re hell on a man’s ego, Angel.”

“But…seriously. Six months?”

“I’m not saying she wanted to get married immediately. But yes, marriage was the ultimate goal.” He narrowed his eyes at Angie’s continued disbelief. “I’m not exactly poor, and I still have all my own hair and teeth.”

“Okay.” She wasn’t disputing that he was attractive. Hell, she was the last person to blame a woman for wanting to jump his bones. But marriage? Didn’t that imply at least the possibility of long-term fidelity?

“I don’t do marriage,” he said.

“So you dumped her.”

“No, I didn’t dump her.”

“She dumped you?”

Zach sighed. “We discussed it like two civilized adults, and then made a mutual decision to part ways.”

They walked in silence for another block before Angie asked, “Do you regret it?”

He shrugged. “She’s a good person.”

That didn’t answer the question. “Would you have stayed together if she’d agreed to your no-marriage stance?”

He hesitated. “Probably not.”

Angie started to breathe again. Tomorrow, in the light of day, she might regret asking. But tonight, seduced by an intimacy she’d never before felt with him, and lulled by the cover of gathering darkness, she said, “Why not?”

“Unrequited love isn’t the best basis for a long-term relationship.”

Angie frowned. Unrequited love? Why would Jeannine want to marry him if she didn’t love him? It made no sense. Unless…

Oh. Her sense of relief was completely out of proportion to the realization.
He wasn’t in love with Jeannine.

“What about you and Fitzpatrick?” Zach said.

“What?”

“Do you love him?”

At one time she’d thought so. But then life had gotten hectic, and whatever she might have felt for Quinn proved unequal to the pressures of work, time, and distance. In the end, they had both moved on too easily.

“We broke up a few months after I left the firm.”

“But you still see him,” Zach said.

She slowed as they approached her building. “And you still see Jeannine.”

He didn’t contradict her.

She stopped at the outer gate and punched in the security code. Zach followed her into the courtyard, and up the stairs to her unit. She dug in her bag for the keys. “Thanks for walking me home.”

The dim light from the wall sconce outside her door cast his face into shadow. “You aren’t going to invite me in?”

Her pulse leapt. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“You sure?” His breath brushed her temple as he leaned down.

“Zach…”

His lips were warm, softer than she expected. Teasing, tempting, like the first taste of chocolate after months of dieting. Her lashes drifted down. She sighed, and he took advantage of the moment by slipping his tongue inside.

Heat blossomed in her core, spreading out to her chest and limbs, until everything was tingling. He pressed closer. Her balance wavered, and she clutched at the lapel of his jacket with her free hand.

Something dropped, and pain exploded in her foot, jarring her out of her sensual haze.

Her eyes flew open and she jerked back, knocking into the door jamb.

His palm cradled the back of her head and she flinched. “Angel?”

Stupid, stupid, stupid.
She bit her lip. It was swollen from the kiss. She could still taste him, still feel the hammering of his heart beneath her hand.

He bent his head, trying to catch her gaze. “You okay?”

She forced herself to release her death grip on his jacket. “You’d better go.”

His muscles tensed and for a split second she thought he would refuse. Her pulse picked up. Did she really want him to leave? Every part of her screamed in protest. Wasn’t this what she’d wanted, dreamed of, since the first moment she’d clapped eyes on him as a gawky eighteen-year-old at her sister’s wedding?

And then he’d gone and ruined it by hooking up with some big-breasted bimbo who didn’t seem to mind getting fucked in a coat closet by a stranger.

“If that’s what you want,” he said, stepping back.

No.
Her fingers itched to grab hold of his tie and pull him back. Oh, God. She really needed to have her head examined.

He retrieved her keys and bag from where they’d fallen. Numbly, she accepted them, and watched as he retreated down the stairs.

“I need a favor.” Angie dropped into the visitor chair in front of her partner’s desk.

Naomi glanced up from her computer. “What is it?”

“You know the CEQA case I’m working on?”

“The one with the uncooperative defense attorney you keep ranting about?”

“Yeah, that one.” Angie picked at a loose cuticle. “Can you take over as attorney of record?”

Naomi set aside the brief she’d been reading. “What happened?”

“Nothing. If you can’t do it, it’s okay. I’ll ask Cheryl.”

“Cheryl’s about to pop any day now.”

Not quite true—their partner’s due date was still a couple months away. But given Angie’s uncertainty over how long this case might last, she had to admit that Cheryl probably wasn’t an ideal choice.

Naomi pulled off her reading glasses. “Besides, I didn’t say no. I just want to know what’s going on. I’m not in the habit of walking into anything blind.”

That was what Angie appreciated most about Naomi, who at thirty-six was the oldest of the three partners. She was even-tempered, thought carefully before she acted, and could always be relied on to provide the voice of reason.

Which made it doubly hard for Angie to fess up to what she was feeling. She’d spent the last two days brooding over the kiss. If not for her Jimmy Choos, which had left her toes exposed and vulnerable to injury from the weight of a bag full of files and a sharp set of keys, Angie wasn’t sure where that kiss might have led.

And therein lay the problem. Despite being on opposite sides of the case, despite having personally witnessed Zach’s modus operandi with women, despite having it from his own lips that he wasn’t interested in anything long-term, Angie didn’t think she had it in her to turn him down. Not if he really pressed.

“Hello.” Naomi snapped her fingers in the air. “Earth to Angie.”

“I’ve lost my objectivity.” Angie frowned. “I’m afraid I’m going to make a mistake.”

“Because…?”

“My sister’s first husband was Roger Landry. As in Stewart & Landry. There was some bad blood there, especially after he died.” She chewed her bottom lip. “Tom Stewart, the company’s CEO, is a good guy. But his son, Zach…”

“The defense attorney?”

“Yes. He’s—” she broke off, at a loss for words.

“A pain in the ass?” Naomi suggested.

“Well, yes.”

“Most men are. Was there something else?”

“Maybe.” She shifted, crossed her legs, and smoothed the gray wool material of her pencil skirt. “I’m having trouble staying focused. When he’s in the room, all I want to do is…”

“Strangle him?”

“That too.”

Naomi studied her. “Are we talking conflict of interest here?”

“Maybe.”

“Are you dating him?”

“No.”

“But you want to?”

“No.” At Naomi’s raised brow, Angie amended, “Not exactly.”

“Does he?”

Angie gave a one-shouldered shrug.

Naomi picked up her glasses and pulled a tissue from a nearby box to polish the lenses. “Do you think he’s setting you up? Playing you so that you’ll push your client toward a more favorable settlement?”

The thought had occurred to her, but hearing Naomi voice it out loud pushed it a step closer from possible to probable. She took a deep breath. “If that’s his strategy, he doesn’t know me at all.”

Naomi glanced at her. “You have an ethical obligation to disclose any potential conflict of interest to your client. And getting romantically involved with opposing counsel is a doozy.”

“I’m not planning on going there.”

“Fine.” Naomi settled the glasses back on her nose. “But remember that real estate and environmental law aren’t exactly my areas of expertise. Trusts and estate planning—that I can do with my eyes closed.”

“I’ll take care of all the scut work,” Angie promised. “Any research, briefs, motions that you need, just let me know.”

“I have a few hearings coming up that I can’t get out of.”

“No worries.” Angie rose. “We’ll work around them.”

“Anything else I should know?”

“The next deposition’s on Monday. I can bring you up to date this afternoon, if you have time.”

“Three o’clock?”

“Thanks, Naomi. I owe you.”