A Christmas Rendezvous. Karen Booth
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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 matter, 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.”
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