Seduce Me (9 page)

In the hour since Max’s call, she’d climbed all the way up the chastisement ladder, settling somewhere between being an unrealistic dreamer and a delusional idiot. Instead, as she surreptitiously adjusted the back strap of her very expensive, gorgeous bra, she pondered the idea of having Max as a friend.

It should have been appealing in every way, but it wasn’t. Not when she was so attracted to him. Not when he’d turned her sexual world upside down. It would be like playing with a tiger—very dangerous to her well-being.

So they’d talk about
M
and sample some Ukrainian specialties, and she’d try to end the evening feeling better than she did now. Thank goodness he had to leave at eight-thirty. It would leave her with plenty of time afterward to go home and lick her wounds.

Behind her, from the kitchen, she heard Victor and his arch nemesis, her cousin Ivan, who also owned a Ukrainian restaurant, argue. It got louder as a waiter walked through to the dining room, and dimmed again as the kitchen door settled back into place.

Their table was closer to the kitchen than she’d like, even though there wasn’t a customer in the restaurant who wouldn’t hear at least some of the argument. She also knew that no one likely cared. At least, none of the regulars. Her crazy family had been quarreling since before they’d left the old country and they’d never stopped. They didn’t give a damn who heard, and she normally tuned it out. She really shouldn’t have agreed to come back here. Oh, well, she’d warned him...

Max entered the restaurant.

He wore an impeccably tailored suit. The dark navy set off his eyes, and the white shirt, undone at the collar, set off his amazing face perfectly. Whatever he had going on after dinner had to be important.

Probably a date.

The thought made her breath catch.

No, Max wouldn’t be that callous. Although if he only considered her a friend...

She had to stop. Just stop. She forced a smile. Not just a smile, but one that matched his greeting. Easy, friendly.

As he got closer, a wellspring of memories shot through her. The pizza, the walk, the polka-dot panties, the thrill, the hope, the letting go. It seemed impossible that she could have such strong connections to a single night. And here he was again, nothing like the man she was looking for. Just the man she didn’t dare want.

Before he sat, he kissed her cheek and gave her a quick once-over. She hadn’t dressed up. She’d thought of wearing the outfit she’d had on at Omnibus, but instead she’d chosen one just like it. Black pants, royal-green silk button-down, black jacket slung over the back of the chair. The only thing new about her was hidden, beneath her clothes. Beneath her smile.

“I really am sorry about this afternoon. I’m not usually such a dope.” He put his napkin on his lap and took a sip of water. “I’m so glad you were free tonight. I’ve been thinking of that movie all day.”

“It’s a great film,” she said. “I—”

The voices from the kitchen intruded. Loudly. Max looked startled and more than a little concerned as he stared at the swinging door behind her cousin Zoya.

“Don’t be alarmed,” Natalie said. “That’s just my uncle Victor and his brother-in-law Ivan. They both own restaurants, they both come from the same village and they both think the other stole their recipe for cholent. They argue about it every time they’re together. Everyone who comes to Lviv or the Litvak has heard this routine a thousand times.”

He stared at her as the voices became almost operatic in their shouting. “The food must be fantastic here.”

Natalie laughed, and it was as if the heaviness that had bowed her since his phone call had lifted. Okay, so maybe
friend
could be allowed back on the table. “It is. Both of them are incredible cooks. So are their wives, but to them it’s not life or death.”

“So, can I order this infamous dish? What was it, chent?”

“Cholent,” she repeated. “It’s a slow-cooked stew and, sorry, you can’t get it tonight. It’s only served on Thursday and Friday. Most people buy it by the quart. It’s actually not on the regular menu. However, I took the liberty of ordering dinner. A sampling of traditional dishes.”

“Thanks, that sounds perfect,” he said, leaning forward, his hand on his water glass. “I’m just sorry it has to be a short night. I’ve got this cocktail party to go to. It’s a work thing. I’m up for a promotion at my firm, but since the last case was so successful, I’ve got some outside interest as well. So while it’s called a cocktail party, it’s actually an interview where you can get drunk during instead of after.”

Although she was pleased his engagement at nine wasn’t a date, she didn’t want to show it. Instead she said, “I didn’t realize you weren’t happy at your firm.”

“No, I am,” he said. “But it would be dumb not to explore what’s out there. The firm hosting tonight’s affair has a very high success rate and impressive clients who bring in really challenging cases.”

She chuckled, although she didn’t envy him. “Wow. Big night.”

“Yes.”

“No wonder you look so dapper.”

He rolled his eyes, but before he could comment, the kitchen door opened again and most of her family walked out, several of them carrying dishes. Zoya, who was nineteen, arrived at the table first with a bottle of the same red she’d brought them last time. “Be prepared,” she whispered quickly to Natalie. “Mama mentioned your friend was a lawyer.”

Natalie winced. As the juggernaut of Ukrainians approached, with murder in their eyes and their English, she touched the back of Max’s hand. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “At any moment, feel free to run.”

His right eyebrow rose as the first plate, with three different kinds of pierogi, was placed on the table. The second dish was borscht, the third, kasha varnishkes, and the fourth, fish in aspic. Basically, a buffet of starters.

“You are attorney,” Uncle Victor said, loud enough for the people across the street to hear. “I want to hire you to sue the pants off my thief of a cousin. Tonight!”

Max’s other eyebrow rose, and the look he gave Natalie was mostly one of surprise, with a little panic mixed in.

9

M
AX
WASN
’
T
SURE
what to do. Natalie was into film—maybe this was some kind of
cinema
verité and there were hidden cameras behind the paintings. She’d warned him before that her family was nuts, but...

“I actually don’t take personal cases,” he said, but he didn’t think anyone was listening. The other man, who looked a great deal like Natalie’s uncle Victor, was promising to hire his own attorney, and saying that he would end up owning both restaurants. Victor would have to explain to his children why he had made them poor and homeless because he was a recipe thief.

Max leaned over the table, careful of his clothes. “I thought he was the brother-in-law.”

“Also third cousin.” She huffed an impatient sigh and said, “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” forcefully enough that the men shut their mouths. Boy, she looked great with that fire in her eyes. “I’m here with a guest and you’re embarrassing me. I won’t tell you twice.” Her glare traveled from uncle to cousin to Aunt Hanna, then to several people in aprons. He knew some criminal lawyers who could take lessons.

The straight back, the determined expression and the commanding tone were having an effect on him, too. In a way that wasn’t in the same zip code as the friend zone. As the staff retreated, the quiet was like a fresh breeze. Then his grumbling stomach made her smile and he could relax again.

He poured them each a hefty glass of Shiraz and started filling his plate with one of everything.

“I know,” she said, lifting her wine. “They’re lunatics. They’re also wonderful, but mostly they’re lunatics.”

“The holidays must be interesting.”

“You have no idea.”

He lifted his own glass but he held off drinking as Natalie leaned in. “To be honest, I don’t come here all that often. I think I scare them.”

“Hell, you scared me. You probably didn’t notice, but you could have heard a toothache in this place. Impressive.”

She leaned back, took a sip and traded her glass for a fork. “Thank you. Now. Dinner. I’ll explain the dishes, and we can enjoy what’s left of our time together.”

He began with the pierogi, which he’d had before, although these were much better. Or maybe it was the company that made them taste so good. She explained about the buckwheat groat that were at the heart of the kasha, and
varnishkes
turned out to be another word for bow-tie pasta.

Just as he’d dug in to the kasha, Ivan hurried out of the kitchen, checking behind him before he arrived at the table with two small bowls of condiments. “My idiot brother-in-law forgot these. And listen,” he said, lowering his voice as he spoke directly to Max, “my cousin Joey just passed the bar with a very high mark. He’s going to represent me in this lawsuit, so you might as well not take the case. It would be a waste of your time.”

“Ivan.” Natalie was getting that look again. He held up both hands and backed away, and Max didn’t blame him.

“My apologies,” she said.

“Joey? That doesn’t sound like a very Ukrainian name.”

“When I said extended family, I meant it. I’ve got cousins and second cousins and cousins twice removed. Joey’s one of the good ones, though. I hope he doesn’t get caught up in all this mess.”

“That’s okay. It’s interesting. The food is really good. Different, but good, and so is the atmosphere. My family isn’t so extended. I have an aunt, Ellen—”

“You mentioned her before.”

“Right. She’s the one who wants me and my brother to be married. She has two kids, daughters. Around my age. We got in a lot of trouble during family gatherings, but that was mostly our fault, not the cousins’. We also have one grandpa who’s still alive. He lives near my aunt Ellen in Vermont.”

“That’s it?”

“Yep.”

“I bet they’re all normal, huh? Don’t yell across restaurants, don’t throw entire turkeys at each other?”

He had to ask. “Cooked or raw?”

“Cooked. Stuffed. A twenty-seven-pound turkey. That was a very special Thanksgiving.”

Max probably wouldn’t have believed the story before he’d seen her family for himself. “I have nothing to top that. You win the weird-family award.”

“Yeah,” she said. “I get that a lot. Why do you think I got into films and books? I needed the escape.”

He laughed. “Ah, it all begins to make sense. I grew up in middle-class suburbia. Mike and I were outside every minute we could be. We played all the sports, even the ones we were crap at. I wasn’t much for reading anything but comic books until high school. Dawn Bryan was my high-school girlfriend for a couple of months in tenth grade and she was heavily into books. I thought she was sexy, and she thought I was a reader, and voilà,” he said. “Magic. She had a habit of asking me about the books I’d supposedly read, so I read them.”

“No CliffsNotes?”

He shook his head. “I never lost the desire to read, only the time necessary.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Life won’t always be this hectic.”

They ate some more, and he found he liked the deep red borscht a lot. He liked her a lot. He wished she was going with him to the party. It would have made him more at ease. Not that he was worried. He just would’ve enjoyed having her there.

By the time he’d eaten enough to take off the edge, he started getting nervous again. His plan had worked, though. Natalie was a great distraction.

“It’s almost time for you to leave, and we haven’t talked about
M
at all.”

A glance at his watch confirmed that the car would arrive in the next few minutes. “You’re right. I wish we had longer.” He folded his napkin and thought about finishing his second glass of wine, but passed. “We’ll have to try again.” He looked at her. “Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoyed tonight, but I was serious about the movie. I’m very interested to hear your thoughts. My exposure to old films is limited, and I’d like to learn more now while I have the chance.”

“You mean before you get this promotion?”

“Yep. Whether I stay where I am or go with another firm, I’m going to be swallowed whole. No time for much fun at all.”

“A promotion should be a reward. That doesn’t sound like much of a win.”

That stopped him for a moment. She had a point, but it was all leading to an endgame that was more important than time to relax was now. “Worth it, though.” He checked his watch again. “You think we can find someone to give us the bill?”

“There won’t be a bill tonight. Not after that nonsense at the table. If you haven’t noticed, they’re still going at it. I swear, it’s like coming to the circus.”

After putting a twenty on the table for Zoya, he stood and was about to say thanks again when the kitchen door swung open. It was Ivan tugging along a dark-haired guy Max hadn’t seen before. The kid had curly hair, black-rimmed glasses and an attempt at a soul patch, and he looked as if he’d rather jump off the Brooklyn Bridge than be dragged into the dining room. Before they reached the table, a very unhappy-looking Victor made his own appearance.

Natalie stood up, tossed her napkin on the table and took Max by the hand. “We’re leaving. Now.”

Feeling like Clyde to Natalie’s Bonnie, he hurried with her to the front door. When she stopped, it was to turn around, hold out her hand to the crowd still following them, and say, “I’m not kidding. Stop.”

She didn’t let go of him again until they were up the stairs and standing by the curb. With uncanny timing, the limousine sent by the recruiting agency pulled up in front of the loading zone. He opened the back door but kept his eyes on her. “Next time, we’ll go somewhere else.”

She glanced at the backseat of the limo, then back at him. “I—”

A half second later, he had his hand behind Natalie’s neck and he was kissing away whatever she was about to say. The move surprised him, but not half as much as the fact that the impromptu kiss went from friendly to scorching in the space of a breath.

It was awkward with the door between them, with the car idling in the red zone, with the city buzzing around them. But it also filled him with the taste of her, the scent of her perfume and then the feel of her hand gripping his shoulder, holding him steady.

The sound of an obvious throat clearing brought him back down to earth. Natalie’s eyes were as dark and wide as they could get, and he hadn’t felt this flustered in years. He’d kissed her. He hadn’t planned to, but he’d done it.

“Excuse me.” A familiar woman’s voice came from behind him. From the backseat. “Max? We don’t want to be late.”

Stella. She was supposed to be meeting him at Parlor.

“Sure,” he murmured to her before turning back to Natalie. “We have to, uh...”

“Right,” she said. “Okay. Um. Have a...good time?”

He nodded and leaned forward to say, “You still owe me a movie night,” then slipped into the limo. Natalie closed the door after him. The limo surged forward into traffic before he could make sense of any of it. He watched her until a bus cut off the view.

“Well, that was a thick slice of awkward.”

Max turned to his surprise companion. “I thought—”

“I know, I was supposed to meet you at the club, but I wanted the time to go over things with you. Now I’m glad I did. We need to get you focused.”

“Yeah,” he said. “No problem. Not at all. I’m completely here and ready.”

Stella, who was not only beautiful but incredibly good at her job, didn’t look convinced.

“Really. We’re just friends. She knows a lot about old films. And Ukrainian food.” He sounded lame, even to himself. Jesus. What the hell had he been thinking with that kiss?

“Max. You can think about her another time. Tonight’s important. Other attorneys the partners are considering will be there, but you’re going to be the main attraction. Everyone will be sizing you up. I swear, after all the work I put into getting you there, if you blow it, I may just kill you.”

“Elliot Beckingham,” Max said, blocking out any other thoughts. “He’s looking for a shark, someone who can swim in deep water. He’s got three major cases going right now, the most important being the pharmaceutical class action. Dan Grohl is the lead on that one, and I aced him out of the number-two spot at Northwestern.”

Stella sighed. “Thank God. Now, let’s go over your strategy. Particularly how you’re going to handle the questions about you appearing in court more often.”

“I know you like bringing this up, but they shouldn’t be looking at me for my courtroom abilities. I’m there to make sure the attorneys who are in court have the best information possible.”

“I keep bringing it up because you don’t seem to believe me. They’ll still want you to do that, but they’ll need to know you’re prepared to do the heavy lifting in front of a judge and jury. And that’s not just Beckingham. All of them want the total package.”

“Fine. Okay. I had more than my usual load of court days on the seafood case, so there should be no problem. I’ll still emphasize the research, though.”

Stella smiled and pushed her long blond hair behind her shoulder. “As my father always said, lead with your strengths, but be ready for anything.”

* * *

T
HE
LIMO
HAD
disappeared awhile ago, but Natalie kept looking down the street. Everything around her had dulled to a muffle the moment Max had kissed her. Passionately. Sensually. There had been nothing casual about it. In no sense was it a friend saying thanks to another friend. Tongues had played a major role, and that didn’t happen between pals.

What the ever-loving hell?

Unfortunately, she’d left her jacket and purse in the restaurant, but when she turned to go back, she found Zoya leaning against the stair railing, holding the items in her hand.

“I thought you said it wasn’t a date,” Zoya said.

“It wasn’t.”

“It sure looked like a date.”

“You saw the...?” She waved vaguely behind her.

“Yeah. Me and the bombshell in the backseat.”

Natalie inhaled and let out her breath slowly. “Yeah. That was weird, wasn’t it? He said it was a business thing. I believe him. But I’m still very confused. I’m gonna go home now.”

“Good idea.” Her cousin handed over the jacket and purse. “You should avoid this place for a while. They’re getting worse. I think they might actually go to court.”

“Oh, for God’s sake. Thanks for being one of the only people in this family who has a lick of sense. You should come over for game night soon.”

“I will. I’ve got to go, but if you need to talk, I’ll be home after closing.” Zoya hurried back to the stairs.

Natalie walked. This time she’d worn comfortable shoes because she hadn’t needed to dress up for a
friend.
But the kiss had blurred the edges between them. In a major way.

It wasn’t fair. The conversation over dinner, despite the interruptions, had been interesting and so easy. They’d connected, and she felt certain that they could have talked into the wee hours of the morning. They’d each laid out clues, and she’d wanted to dig deeper.

Of course she’d been attracted to him, that was a given. Yet she’d been too engrossed to feel self-conscious about their sexual past or future. It was the kind of simpatico she hoped to find in a husband. Which was terrible. She’d had the best sex ever with a man who was fascinating and engaging, and who’d liked her enough to break their agreement never to meet again.

While a gorgeous woman waited for him in a black limo.

No, he’d told her the reception was business. She had no reason to believe he’d lied. After all, he didn’t owe her an explanation about his love life. They were supposed to just be friends. Oh, God, she didn’t need this roller coaster.

If she had a brain in her head, she’d cut her losses and move on. They hadn’t even talked about films yet— Oh, no, wait, he said she owed him a movie night. If she followed through, she knew that was going to make things even more confusing.

The question was, could she do the smart thing? She’d have said yes if she hadn’t gone into a frenzy when he’d showed up at work. The amount of money she’d spent on underwear made that achingly clear. Her judgment about these things had proven to be flawed.