Her Montana Christmas Groom. Teresa Southwick
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The ice in his empty glass clinked when he swirled it. “It was good training for practicing law. Everyone tries to knock you down, but you dig in and don’t let them.”
“Words to live by.” That was as close to neutral as she could get.
She studied him. Good-looking. Smart enough to become a lawyer. From a nice family. On paper he was everything she wanted in a man if you left out the boring and self-centered part. He hadn’t asked her anything and apparently didn’t care how she was adjusting to her new life in town. Call her perverse, but she let the awkward silence drag on because everything that popped into her mind to say would only lead him into another topic about himself.
“I’m pretty good on a pair of skis,” he said. “But there’s nothing like the adrenaline rush of snowboarding.”
“Oh?” She couldn’t resist. “I bet that’s good practice for a career as a lawyer, too. Fall down, get back up.”
“Smart girl. I decided on a career as an attorney because knowing the law gives you power. And the money’s good, too.” He grinned and winked.
Dear God, did he really just wink at her? She barely held back a shudder. “So I’ve heard.”
“I’ve got the mayor’s ear.” He lowered his voice as if he was sharing a national security secret and all the families eating ribs in booths and wooden tables around the room were spies. “If your brother Ethan needs local legal counsel for Traub Oil, I’m his guy. Or if he’s looking to merge the legal departments of Texas and Montana under one roof, I could help with that, too.”
The “aha” light came on and all became clear to Rose. This blowhard wasn’t attracted to her any more than she was to him. He had an ulterior motive for asking her out. If Harvey hadn’t picked her up at her apartment, she’d have walked out right that second. But her place was a long hike in the cold and she was wearing heels.
She stood up suddenly. “Excuse me, Harvey. I’m going to the ladies’ room.”
Before he could answer, she turned and hurried through the place. She passed waitresses wearing short, tight blue shorts and a big red lip imprint on their T-shirts feeling as exploited as they probably did. Following the back wall, she finally found the alcove with doors that said “Men” and “Women” staring at each other. She pushed open the female door and blew out a long breath, grateful that it was quiet and she was alone.
“That pompous windbag. Conniving, underhanded, self-absorbed jerk. How dare he use me to get Ethan’s legal business?”
There must be a way to cut this abomination of an experience short. It wasn’t practical to simply walk out and she couldn’t insist he take her home immediately. Working with him could get awkward if he wasn’t exaggerating the truth and really did have access to the mayor.
Bo Clifton had probably known Harvey a long time. There could be press releases with critical wording that might require legal tweaking, to keep the mayor out of hot water because of unfortunate phrasing. How could she gracefully end this horrid encounter before committing justifiable homicide? It would be self-defense because if it lasted any longer, Harvey French would bore her to death. But if she choked him, there could be jail time involved. That would upset her family and she didn’t think she’d do well in jail.
Although she was sick of Harvey, pretending to come down with an illness was problematic. Her acting skills weren’t that good. There was only one thing to do, what she always did when she was in trouble.
She pulled her cell phone out of her purse and brought up her contact list, then hit Jackson’s number. The last thing he said to her at the wedding was that if she needed him he would be there. Time to put up or shut up.
Rose worried her lip as the phone rang three, four, five times. Darn it. He wasn’t answering. Just when she was afraid the call was going straight to his voice mail, Jackson finally picked up.
“What?” He sounded crabby and breathless, as if he’d been running, or…
Oh, no. Shoot, shoot, shoot, she said to herself. With caller ID, he already knew who was calling, so she had to say something. “It’s Rose.”
“Are you okay?” The words were laced with alarm.
“Fine, physically. I have a date, but—”
“You called to tell me you have a date? What am I? Your BFF? That’s not breaking news. It’s business as usual for you.”
“No, Jackson, listen. I’m with him right now—”
“Why is your voice echoing?”
Rose leaned her shoulder against a tile wall. The mirror and sink were beside her. She stared at her reflection, the desperation on her face, and hoped it was as clear in her voice. “I’m hiding in the restroom, so technically he’s not here now. He’s waiting for me at the table.”
“I don’t need a play by play—”
“Stop yelling at me and listen. You have to get me out of here.”
“Are your legs painted on? Just walk out.”
“He picked me up, I don’t have a car. The thing is, I met him at work. There’s no graceful way for me to handle this and it could get awkward at the office.”
“Rose—” Annoyance grated in his voice.
“Please, Jackson. I wouldn’t have bothered you if there was any other way. I’m begging you to get me out of here. Think of something so he won’t be offended. He’s got an ego on him.” She added the final argument. “I’m at Lipsmackin’ Ribs.”
“Traitor.”
“It wasn’t my idea,” she protested. “He surprised me. But do you see what I’m up against?”
There was a long silence before he finally said, “Give me fifteen minutes.”
“Thanks, Jackson.”
Rose reapplied her lipstick, then went back to the table. “All freshened up.”
He looked a little miffed. “The waitress was here to take our order, but I didn’t know what you wanted.”
That surprised her from the man who thought he knew everything. On the other hand, she didn’t want him to be on the hook for food she had no intention of eating.
“We’ve been so busy blathering away that I haven’t had a chance to look at the menu.” She gave Harvey a bright smile, something it was possible to do now that help was on the way.
It was actually closer to twenty-five minutes before Jackson finally showed up. He stopped beside the booth and scowled. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Jackson?” She put as much surprise as possible into her voice. “I’m on a date here. Harvey French, this is my brother Jackson Traub.”
“Nice to meet you.” Harvey put out his hand and they shook.
“What are you doing here, Jackson?” Her performance wouldn’t win any awards, but it was the best she could do.
“Your cell phone is off. There’s urgent family business and I’m here to get you.”
“Can’t it wait until Harvey and I have dinner?”
“No.” There was a dangerous glint in her brother’s dark eyes and she wondered if she’d pushed it just a little too far.
“Jackson wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.” She pretended regret when she looked at Harvey. “I’m so sorry, but it looks like I have to cut our evening short.”
“Only if I get a rain check,” Harvey said.
“Only if…” That wasn’t an outright lie. She stood and grabbed her coat and purse. “Thanks for the drink.”
She lifted her hand