Unwrapping the Playboy / The Playboy's Gift: Unwrapping the Playboy. Marie Ferrarella
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spent the rest of her life trying to put that one awful episode in her life behind her.
Don’t go there, she warned herself. What’s done is done.
“No,” he answered, “I’m not married.”
“Oh.”
Despite the fact that it was years too late for her, that what could have been between them was in the past, Lilli was suddenly aware of a small, intense flame of warmth igniting within her. A warmth that swiftly spread, as if to thaw her out. To make her feel alive again.
This wouldn’t accomplish anything, she upbraided herself. It was best to leave things just the way they were. There was no going back. Her future, her life, was all bound up around the boy. Jonathan was the important one here. Jonathan was the only reason she was here, temporarily interacting with Kullen.
She wanted to be clear that he didn’t mind her doing this. Eager though she was, she didn’t want to risk crowding him. “Then I can bring the papers by your house?”
He didn’t want her getting the wrong idea, that her coming over would lead to anything but discussing her case.
“You could have brought them by even if I was married,” he informed her. “When’s the court date?” She told him and he whistled, shaking his head. No wonder she was antsy. “Two weeks. That really doesn’t leave much time,” he agreed.
“That’s the whole idea behind such an early court date. Mrs. Dalton’s trying to steamroll right over me.”
Kullen liked a challenge, liked fighting the good fight. Cut-and-dried cases didn’t allow him to stretch his muscles, and a lot of the time they bored him. His gut told him he wouldn’t be bored with this case. Not by a long shot.
“Well, Mrs. Dalton’s just going to have to rethink her strategy,” he replied. He reached over a pile of papers to get one of his business cards from his desk. Flipping it over, he wrote down his home address on the back, then held the card out to Lilli. “Here’s my address,” he told her. “I should be home after six.”
What sort of a home did he live in? Was it strictly utilitarian, the way his room had been in college? Or had his obvious success changed him, changed his tastes? Was his home big and splashy, filled with furniture and objects of art chosen by some interior decorator?
Lilli slipped the card into her purse. “I’ll be there,” she promised.
She started to open the door, but the sound of his voice stopped her.
“Just out of curiosity, who referred you to me?”
He wondered if she’d just looked him up, forgetting that he’d once had plans to work in the poorer section of Los Angeles, counseling those who couldn’t afford to pay a lawyer. Or if she did remember, did finding him here make her think that he’d sold out and joined his father’s firm just to please him?
Her answer caught him off guard. “Your mother.”
“My mother?” Damn it, Kate had been right. Now that she, Nikki and Jewel were all squared away with fiancés and weddings in the near future, Theresa Manetti had decided to turn her sights on him. “You looked up my mother?” he asked incredulously.
“No, actually, it’s all just a very fortunate coincidence.”
Yeah, I just bet, Kullen thought. He didn’t believe in coincidences, fate or luck. Not anymore. Especially not where his mother was concerned. She’d known about this at lunch today and she hadn’t said a word to him.
“My mother needed to have a party catered,” Lilli explained, “and she looked up your mother. Your mother comes very highly recommended,” she told him by way of a compliment. His expression remained oddly stoic. “They started talking and my mother told yours that I was badly in need of a lawyer. Your mother volunteered you.”
His mother probably heard the words “my single daughter” and her imagination galloped off, Kullen thought darkly. “Did my mother ask yours what kind of lawyer you needed?”
Lilli smiled. It was the same smile he used to think lit up a dark room. “My mother only said I needed a good one. Your mother proudly said that you were. But my nine months in law school were not wasted,” she said, tongue in cheek. “I looked you up,” she told him. “I wanted to be sure that you weren’t practicing criminal law or just doing estate planning.” A distant expression came into her eyes. “I won’t need a criminal lawyer except maybe as a last resort.”
He knew what she was saying. That if it came down to it, she’d kill to keep her son. He wondered if she actually meant that.
“As your lawyer, I have to advise you not to make those kind of jokes right now—” he underscored the word “—just in case Elizabeth Dalton does happen to turn up dead.”
Lilli studied him for a long moment. “I don’t remember you being this cautious before.”
He was the exact opposite of cautious and serious when it came to his social life, but professionally it was another matter. The law didn’t leave a lot of wiggle room for mistakes.
“I’m not,” he replied. “But in this particular case, it wouldn’t hurt to cover all bases.”
He was right and she was grateful to him for that. For taking her case. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was criticizing him or his methods.
“Thank you,” she said again. “Just knowing that you’re on the case makes me feel a great deal better al ready.”
“That makes one of us,” he said to the door after she had left and closed it.
Damn it, he had a feeling that once this case was over he would have to start from scratch again. He would have to work to drive her essence out of his head. Out of his soul.
“Of all the law firms in Bedford, she had to wander into mine,” he murmured under his breath, riffing on Humphrey Bogart’s famous line in Casablanca.
With a sigh Kullen glanced down at his watch. He gave Lilli five minutes to stop at Selma’s desk, get the list he’d suggested she take with her and then make her way to the elevator.
Exactly five minutes later, he opened his door and strode over to Kate’s office two doors down. Reaching it he knocked exactly once on the frosted glass. Too impatient to wait the mega-second for a response, he opened the door and walked in.
Books were spread out and open all over his sister’s desk.
Engrossed in her research, Kate looked up sharply when she heard him walk in. “I didn’t say come in.”
“But you would have,” he pointed out glibly.
“I could have been with a client—or making out with Jackson,” she answered.
He shrugged, closing the door behind him. “Then you would have thrown me out and I would have waited in the hall.”
“Waited,” she repeated mockingly. “You don’t know how to wait. This sounds serious.” She pushed the book in front of her aside. “What’s up?”
“Did you know about this?” he demanded.
“Well,” she said carefully, “that all depends.”
“On what?” he asked her suspiciously, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized her.
“On what ‘this’ means. If you’re asking about Selma’s birthday, yes, I know about it. Actually, I was the one who found out that it’s next week—”
Raising his voice, he cut in. “I’m not talking about Selma’s birthday.” He was exasperated. When she got all wound up, Kate could fire more words per second than any living human. He knew from experience that he only had a couple of seconds to get out in front of that before she picked up her pace. “I’m talking about my newest