Balancing Act (The Santa Monica Trilogy Book 3) Page 6

  Naomi sighed. “I remember those days. Before kids.”

  “Hey, anytime you want to trade…”

  “Really? Who are you, and what have you done with the real Angie MacDowell?”

  “What are you talking about? I love kids.” When her friend’s brows shot up, Angie tossed a balled-up napkin at her. “Seriously. I’ve babysat for you and Cheryl, right? And I’m a great auntie. Ask any of my nieces or nephews, they’ll tell you.”

  “That’s because you bribe them. Don’t deny it. Kids are lousy at keeping secrets. And just so you know: pizza and ice cream are not breakfast foods.”

  “Oops.” Angie grinned. “Would it help if I told you it was only that one time?”

  “Oh, please. You can’t even say that with a straight face.”

  “You’re no fun.”

  Naomi got up to clear the remains of their lunch from the table. “Let’s get back to work, shall we? We can have this conversation again after you become a parent.”

  Though the tone was light, the words still stung. Angie tried to shrug them off as she dumped empty takeout containers in the trash.

  Sure, she herself had often commented that she was happy to be the fun auntie. She got to spend time with the kids without having to take ultimate responsibility for their well-being, or giving up her own independence. The best of both worlds.

  And there was no question she enjoyed the freedom that came with being a young, single professional. She liked the fact that she could come and go at will, without having to be accountable to anyone for her time. Other than her clients, of course.

  But that didn’t mean she wanted to be single and unencumbered forever.

  Just for now. Just until she’d gotten a certain arrogant, sexier-than-sin attorney out of her system.

  Then she could get back to her real life: working, enjoying her family, and maybe even looking for a man who was interested in settling down and making babies.

  “About this plan you have…”

  Angie started, then relaxed when she realized that Naomi was talking about the settlement proposal they’d been discussing before lunch.

  “What about it?”

  “It seems…I don’t know…a little tame.”

  “Tame,” Angie repeated, as if she’d never heard the concept. “How do you mean, tame?”

  Naomi thumbed through the pages, then stopped to read a particular clause out loud.

  When she finished and looked up, waiting for a response, Angie frowned. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing. It’s quite restrained,” Naomi said. “But—correct me if I’m wrong—I thought you were determined to squeeze as much as you could out of S&L.”

  Angie skimmed through the list of conditions she’d drafted. “You think I’m going too easy on them?”

  “Not necessarily. You’re still asking for some hefty concessions. But you could have asked for more.”

  “I want to settle this, Naomi. Not drag it out in perpetuity.”

  “Honey, at the rate you’re going, it’ll be the shortest lawsuit in the history of man.”

  “If you’re worried about the bottom line…”

  Naomi snorted. “Considering we’re just three years out of the starting gate, I think we’re doing pretty well.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “No problem. As long as this—” she tapped the draft proposal “—isn’t your sexual frustration talking.”

  “My what?”

  “Oh, was that too blunt?”

  “I am not sexually frustrated.”

  “Okay, if you say so.”

  “I think this is a reasonable compromise for everyone, including Mrs. Callahan.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Fine. Then let’s set up a meeting and see what the client says.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Even though the day had been warm, with temperatures topping eighty, there was a nip in the evening air that made Angie grateful for the embroidered Pashmina shawl she’d grabbed as an afterthought. Her legs might freeze, but at least the rest of her would be protected.

  She smiled and nodded at familiar faces in the crowd as she made her way past the open bar. Across the terrace, she saw her sister-in-law Grace flitting from group to group, exchanging air kisses and no doubt drumming up support for the non-profit clinics that were the beneficiaries of tonight’s fundraiser. Grace’s grandmother, who was hosting the event, presided over an older group of guests seated near the entrance.

  Heat lamps and fairy lights lit up the terrace and extensive grounds that overlooked the golf course behind the house. Waitstaff in white jackets and black pants circulated with trays of goat cheese crostini, bacon-wrapped figs, spanakopita, and crab-stuffed mushrooms. In the background, hidden speakers played music from the band she’d seen setting up earlier in the ballroom.

  “Having fun yet?”

  Angie turned at her sister’s voice and smiled. “You did a marvelous job organizing this.”

  Eva waved off the compliment. “What are you drinking?”

  Angie glanced at the glass she’d accepted from a passing waiter on arrival, only to find it empty. “Red wine.”

  “Come on, let’s get you a refill.”

  She followed Eva to the bar. “Where’s Max?”

  “Babysitting.”

  “Seriously?”

  “He hates these functions. You’d think people would have better things to do than pester him about where he gets his ideas.”

  “Poor Max,” Angie said, accepting a fresh glass and nodding her thanks to the bartender. “Must be tough, having back-to-back bestsellers out.”

  “First world problems,” Eva laughed, steering Angie toward a less crowded spot. “I know. Everyone should be so lucky.”

  “I haven’t seen Logan either.”

  “He’s watching the twins at our place. Keeping Max company.”

  Angie blinked. “I thought he and Grace had a nanny.”

  “They do.” Eva sighed. “Edmonton’s playing Carolina tonight.”

  “Ah. Now that makes sense.” Hockey was a sacred sport among the men in their family. The only excuse for missing a game was death or dismemberment. And maybe the birth of a child.

  A familiar face caught Angie’s eye, and she nearly dropped her glass. “What’s Zach Stewart doing here?”

  Eva followed her gaze. “I invited him.”

  “Why?”

  “He and Tom have been big contributors to the cause.”

  “Really?” Angie cocked her head. “Since when?”

  “Since I organized the first event when Grace started managing the clinics.”

  “How come I didn’t know about this before?”

  Eva shrugged. “You’re usually running the 10K part of it. This is the first year you’ve had time to attend the gala night.”

  “Some of us actually work most evenings.”

  “I know,” Eva said. “I’ve been there.”

  “Oh, jeez, Eva, I’m sorry.” Angie forgot sometimes how dire Eva’s situation had been after first husband died and left behind a mountain of debt. Eva had gone from stay-at-home mom to sole breadwinner, picking up whatever freelance jobs she could get doing graphic design and marketing. She’d managed to turn things around, launching a successful business that catered to a niche market of indie writers. But for a while, her financial situation had been quite tenuous. Angie squeezed her sister’s hand. “Just ignore me. I’ve been a bit crabby lately.”

  “It’s okay. Look, I know you and Zach haven’t always gotten along, but it’s not like he’s the only other person here. There are plenty of people you can mingle with. Come on, I’ll introduce you around.”

  “What? Oh, no, you’re not trying to set me up again, are you?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I know that expression.” Angie set her glass down on the nearest flat surface and took a step back. “Last time I saw
you looking at me like that, I ended up spending an entire lunch hour fending off what’s-his-name with the grabby hands.”

  Eva winced. “Sorry about that. I would never have suggested you meet up with him if I’d known he would act that way.”

  “The only thing that would have been worse was if I’d agreed to have dinner with the guy. This way, at least, I had an appointment with a client as my excuse to get the hell out of there.”

  “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

  “No way,” Angie said. “Besides, I don’t need my big sister managing my love life.”

  “I wouldn’t have to if you actually had a love life.”

  Angie glanced across the room to where she’d last seen Zach, only to find him staring straight at her. She licked her suddenly dry lips.

  “Hello?” Eva poked her in the side. “Am I missing something?”

  Angie blinked. “What?”

  “You. Zach.”

  “Uh, no.” She scowled at Eva. “We’re on opposite sides of a lawsuit.”

  Eva pursed her lips. “I thought Zach was in-house counsel for S&L.”

  “He is.”

  “So…”

  Angie rearranged the wrap around her shoulders. “I’m representing a client in a case against the company.”

  “You’re suing Tom?”

  “I’m sure I mentioned it.”

  “You didn’t.” Eva frowned. “I would have remembered.”

  “You’ve been somewhat preoccupied lately.”

  “I can’t believe you’re suing Tom. He’s practically family.”

  “No he isn’t.”

  “Well, maybe not technically,” Eva conceded. “But he and Roger were like brothers.”

  “Roger’s been dead for six years. Don’t you think it’s time you moved on?”

  Eva’s expression softened. “I have. But you don’t write people off, out of your life, just because the original connection is gone. Tom’s a good man.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why are you suing him?”

  “I’m not suing him per se. I’m suing the company.”

  “Don’t split hairs with me, Ang. I thought you were done taking on cases you don’t believe in. Wasn’t that the whole point of starting your own practice?”

  “Who says I don’t believe in this? Not everything is black and white, Eva. You, of all people, should know that.”

  Eva inhaled sharply and glanced away.

  Angie bit her lip. Eva didn’t deserve her sarcasm. She lowered her voice. “You know I can’t discuss details of an active case with you.”

  “Give me a break, Ang. Whatever you file in court is no longer confidential.”

  “You want the basics? Fine,” Angie said, annoyed enough to put the worst possible spin on it. “S&L is trying to force a little old lady and her dying husband out of a rent-controlled apartment they’ve lived in for thirty-two years.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “They’re clearing an entire block in order to build a new development.”

  “And you’re suing to stop them?”

  “Environmental law is on our side, Eva. Which is a good thing, given what’s going on with the real estate market in Santa Monica. Big developers like S&L are turning the entire Westside into a playground for the über-rich, and people who are on a fixed income, who’ve lived here their entire lives, are getting squeezed out.”

  “What about Prop 13?”

  “It may protect homeowners, but it does nothing for renters like my client.”

  “But wasn’t that her choice, to remain a renter for so long?”

  “It’s not a choice if there’s no affordable housing for sale. You came up against that yourself not too long ago, remember?”

  Eva sighed. “So you’ve decided to fix the problem by going to court.”

  “Gotta start somewhere.”

  “I guess.” Eva scanned the crowd. Her lips quirked. “Let me ask you this. If you and Zach are on opposite sides of the case, why is he looking at you like you’re his favorite flavor of ice cream?”

  “What?” Angie sneaked a peek and swallowed when she saw Zach heading their way. “You’re imagining things.”

  “Really?”

  Instead of replying, Angie grabbed Eva’s arm and pulled her toward the nearby stairs that led down to the lawn. They were nearly at the bottom when a deep voice said from behind, “Good evening, ladies. Mind if I join you?”

  Angie stumbled. A firm hand closed around her upper arm. “You should get rid of the Jimmy Choos, Angel, before you break your neck.”

  “Actually,” she said, with all the dignity of head of state taking the oath of office, “these are Manolo Blahniks, and they’re very comfortable.”

  Eva, the traitor, laughed and leaned around Angie to greet him. “Glad you could make it, Zach.”

  “Eva. You look ravishing as always.”

  “Thank you. Is your dad here?”

  “Not tonight. He asked me to convey his apologies.” He tightened his fingers, preventing Angie from pulling away. “Do you mind if I steal your sister for a moment?”

  Angie glared at Eva, who raised her brows and gave her a tiny shrug. “I have to check on the caterers, anyway. Say hi to your dad for me. I’ll catch up with you later, Ang.”

  With that, she was gone.

  Zach’s thumb brushed the bare skin beneath her shawl. Angie shivered. Considering the outcome of her most recent meeting with Mrs. Callahan, the last place Angie wanted to be was alone with Zach beneath the twinkling fairy lights.

  “There are some lawn chairs up ahead,” he said. “Think you can make it that far, or should I carry you?”

  ~

  Zach chuckled at the speed with which she whipped off her heels and tromped through the damp grass barefoot.

  She settled onto one of the cushioned lounge chairs lined up at the edge of the property, where during the day it no doubt commanded an amazing view of the country club grounds below. Briefly, he wondered if the chaise was strong enough to hold two. After a glance at Angie’s less than friendly expression, he decided not to risk it.

  “So,” he said, lowering himself onto a neighboring chair. “Any progress with your client?”

  She crossed her ankles and readjusted her wrap until it covered her from the base of her throat to just above her hips. Too bad. He’d been enjoying the view afforded by her low-cut gown. So much so that he missed Angie’s response and had to ask her to repeat it.

  “She needs to discuss things with her husband.”

  Zach tapped a finger against his tuxedo-clad thigh. “Is that code for ‘I’m going to play hardball’?”

  Her lips twitched. “No. It’s code for ‘back off while they think about their options.’”

  “Fair enough.”

  They sat for several minutes without talking. Behind them, the faint sounds of laughter and a dozen different conversations carried on the breeze. An old Cole Porter tune drifted over from the outdoor speakers. He found himself humming along. Sentimental clap-trap, and yet, sitting here in the dark, with a beautiful woman who by turns intrigued and challenged him, he couldn’t help but think the lyrics absolutely perfect.

  “Nice,” Angie said, once he fell silent. “Did you take lessons?”

  He laughed. “Nah. I played around with the guitar a little, but nothing formal.”

  “Really?” She tilted her head, as if observing him from a new angle would provide some hidden insight. “When was this?”

  “As a kid. One of Dad’s subcontractors played in a band on weekends. Let me tag along if they had a local gig.”

  “You mean to bars and stuff?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Fourteen, fifteen.” He shrugged. “Somewhere around there.”

  Her brows shot up. “And your parents let you go?”

  He scratched his chin. “Sure. Why not?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Underag
e kid in a bar? No parental supervision? Sounds a little dangerous to me.”

  “I was tall for my age.”

  “Oh, sure, that makes it okay.” She rolled her eyes. “When I was a teen, my mom wouldn’t even let me go to a friend’s house after dark unless she knew the parents personally. And even then, I had to be back by eleven sharp.”

  “What happened if you stayed later?”

  “You know my dad’s a judge, right? He probably knows half the police force and sheriff’s department. Believe me, once you get picked up from a party by a uniformed cop and driven home in a squad car, you never lose track of time again. Ever.”

  Zach grinned. “I would have loved to see that.”

  “Yeah, I bet. So how’d you get to hang out at bars so young?”

  He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Back then Dad and Roger were still flipping houses. Sometimes they’d have five, six projects going at the same time. During the summers, I’d go with them. But during the school year, there’d be days I didn’t see Dad at all.”

  “What about your mom?”

  “She wasn’t exactly what you’d call maternal.”

  Angie’s gaze sharpened, but she kept quiet, waiting for him to continue. As far as he was concerned, she could keep on waiting. The day his parents had finally gotten their divorce, Zach wasn’t sure who’d been more relieved: him or his dad.

  The breeze picked up and Angie shivered.

  “Cold?” He unbuttoned his jacket. Offer it to her, or use the opportunity to test out how sturdy the lawn chairs were?

  Before he could move either way, she shifted and drew her knees in. “I’m fine.”

  He had a brief glimpse of cleavage as she leaned forward to drape one end of the shawl over her exposed legs, before straightening up again and tucking the other end more securely around her upper body.

  He swallowed his disappointment and changed the subject. “The election’s in a couple weeks.”

  She looked at him. “And…?”

  “The city council is meeting a few days later. Rumor has it they might vote to rescind our DA.”

  “Your development agreement? For this project?”

  “It all hinges on one vacant seat. If the front-runner manages to win, it’ll alter the balance of power in a way that threatens all pending commercial construction, not just ours.” He paused. “You sure you didn’t have a hand in this?”