The Blackjack Quartet: Book 3
Blackjack & Moonlight
A Contemporary Romance
by
Magdalen Braden
Copyright © 2014 Magdalen Braden. All Rights Reserved.
Published by Harmony Road Press
www.harmonyroad.com
Version created Sun May 25 14:46:25 2014
ISBN-10: 1939573017
ISBN-13: 978-1-939573-01-8
Cover by Laura Morrigan
http://www.lauramorrigan.com/
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All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. Harmony Road Press LLC is not associated with any product or vendor in this book.
This is a work of fiction. All characters appearing in this story are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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www.magdalenbraden.com
Sex v. Love—a battle in the courtroom
and
the bedroom!
Hotshot litigator Elise Carroll doesn’t have time for romance—she wants to make partner at her Philadelphia law firm. Despite her mother’s urging, Elise avoids settling down by keeping her relationships short and sexy. Her idea of a perfect date? Beer and pretzels at a Phillies game.
When Jack “Blackjack” McIntyre—Philly’s super-sexy new judge—falls for Elise in court, she’s horrified. He “claims” to be in love with her—but that can’t possibly be true. He doesn’t give up trying to wine and dine her, though, so she devises a new scheme. Like all men, surely he’ll leave after a short and sexy fling.
Only problem—Blackjack refuses to sleep with her! They compromise—she’ll go on his romantic dates if he’ll alternate them with her “just sex” dates. Their contract works surprisingly well—until Elise can no longer find the line between love and sex.
Can Elise get her life back where she wants it—in a partner’s office? Or will Jack McIntyre use his superpowers to win their contest of wits?
“Hey, it’s my favorite client.” Elise Carroll grinned and dropped her briefcase so she could scoop DeeDee, her secretary’s four-year-old, into her arms.
Kim looked up from a file open on her desk, her cheeks striped by dried tears. “Can you play with her for a couple minutes?”
Uh-oh. More domestic drama—the last thing Kim needed. “Okay, but I cannot be late for
that man
.” Elise walked into her office. With the door open, Kim would be able to watch her daughter from across the hall.
“What man, Auntie Leese?” DeeDee asked, her corn-silk hair glinting under the office lights.
Elise pointed at the magazine on her desk. “Him.”
DeeDee reached for
Philadelphia Magazine
, the cover showing a handsome man in a black robe. The headline read, “Philadelphia’s Newest—and Sexiest—Judge” and beneath that, in smaller letters, “Blackjack McIntyre moves from the US Attorney’s office to his own district court.”
“Who’s dat?” DeeDee inspected the photo.
Elise laughed. “Just the latest guy to think a black robe makes him right all the time.” She set DeeDee down on the carpeted floor. “You want to color, sweetheart?”
“Sure!”
Elise pulled some paper out of the recycling bin, and after checking what was printed on it, spread it out on the floor, blank sides up. She found the crayons she kept in her desk for DeeDee’s visits.
Kim was still crying. Elise double-checked the time. She really wanted to be early for Blackjack McIntyre’s first motion hearing. It should take him five minutes to find for her client. If she annoyed him by being late, he’d yell at her for wasting his time, which would waste
her
time. She had a full day at work, so she just wanted to get in, get her win, and get out.
Still, this was Kim. Elise couldn’t ignore her pain. “What’s going on?”
Kim handed over the file. The top sheet was a formal notice of eviction pending foreclosure. Elise flipped quickly through the rest. The arrearages notices went back months. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Elise said quietly. She glanced over at DeeDee. Still coloring, thank God.
“I thought we could get caught up, only it never seemed to happen.” Kim was younger than Elise by a few years, maybe twenty-seven. Today Kim looked exhausted and almost middle-aged. Her husband was out on disability, Kim’s salary only went so far, and now Elise learned they were underwater in their too-large home. Elise could empathize with the family’s string of bad luck, but to let it get this close to homelessness? Why hadn’t Kim spoken up sooner?
“The firm will handle our bankruptcy, right?” Kim asked, mopping her eyes with a tissue.
“That’s premature.” Elise was not going to let them file until she knew it was the only option. “Okay. Here’s what I need you to do. Call the bank and ask for the legal department. Give your maiden name and say you’re my secretary. If anyone asks, I’m the lawyer hired by the Skebitsky family regarding the need to refinance their mortgage. Get me the name of someone who can deal for the bank.”
Kim looked up, confused. “The notices say it’s too late for that.”
Elise shook her head. “It’s never too late. If I can negotiate a refi, you can afford that house. It’s the least disruptive solution. Just get me a name.” She checked her watch. “Oh, lord, look at the time. If I don’t leave immediately I’ll be late for
him
.” Elise pointed at Blackjack McIntyre, scowling at her from the cover of the magazine.
Kim grinned. “I can’t wait to hear all about it. Details, I want all the details. Is he as good-looking as in his press conferences?”
“Not you too.” Elise threw the magazine onto Kim’s desk. Jack McIntyre’s blue-black hair and chiseled jaw mocked her from the cover. Superman in a judicial robe. “I don’t plan to be there long enough to look at him. Five minutes, tops. He grants my motion, and I’m out of there.”
“Oh, please. You know he’s seriously hunky. And the article says he’s not dating anyone at the moment.”
“Well, based on the women he’s been seen with, I’m not his type. Good thing because I have no interest in dating him or anyone else right now. I want to focus on making partner. And you’d better focus on getting your daughter to day care.”
Another check of the watch.
Shit.
There’d better be a cab downstairs or she’d be late.
On her way back into her office, Elise looked at the papers on the floor. DeeDee had drawn a figure in black. Either it was the Honorable Jack McIntyre or a vampire bat. Hard to tell.
Despite running through the federal courthouse lobby in a very unlawyer-like manner, Elise was late for “Philly’s Newest—and Sexiest—Judge.” Why did the man have to land on that magazine cover? That was what had made her late—Kim’s fascination with his reputation as US Attorney, his prosecution record, his high-profile society girlfriends. Elise had never met him and already she was pissed off at him.
She managed to insert herself in front of several lawyers waiting for the elevator. When the doors pinged open on the tenth floor, she was out and jogging around the corner, her shoes clattering on the marble floors.
With relief, she saw Bart Mather waiting alone in the hallway.
“Hi, Bart. Where’s your client?” she asked, slowing to a walk.
Bart looked her over, then went back to his BlackBerry. “He just texted. He’s held up in the security line downstairs. I’ve let Tony know.”
Some things were the same, then. Blackjack had inherited Tony, Judge Wilkins’s deputy, along with Courtroom 10A. Tony never let the parties into the courtroom until everyone was present. He’d have noticed that Elise was late. If she was lucky, he wouldn’t tell the judge.
“Anyone from Keri-Age showing up?” Bart asked.
“From Cleveland? Not for a motion Blackjack will grant in five minutes.”
“He’ll rule for my client. As I’ve shown in the briefs, you’re overreaching in your discovery requests—”
Elise held up a hand. “Save it for the judge.”
Bart scowled. Not for the first time, Elise wondered why she’d ever gone out with him in law school. Oh, right. He had tickets for a Red Sox postseason game. Yet another shining example of her taste in men.
“You know—” His nasal voice interrupted her thoughts. “That’s the precise look you gave me when we broke up.”
Broke up? They went out once. “You make it sound like we were actually dating,” she protested.
Bart smoothed the hair on the top of his head. He’d been sensitive about his receding hairline ten years ago. Now it was a baby comb-over. What was it with guys and their hair?
“I thought we were dating,” he muttered. Then he straightened at the sight of his client, a dweeby guy in an ill-fitting sports jacket walking slowly down the hall. Bart couldn’t resist a final dig. “You know, Elise, someday you’ll be the one with your heart on the line. I hope the guy treats you the way you treated me.”
She ignored him. “I’ll tell Tony we’re ready.”
Waiting in the shadows between the door to the hallway and the bench—
his
bench in
his
courtroom—Jack McIntyre tugged at the knot of his tie, red, the only color that would show above the black robe. Appointing him to the judiciary was evidence that Washington politicians were insane—jurists were supposed to be older and more seasoned. Jack felt absurdly young, like the actor picked for his popularity rather than real acting experience.
Fear he’d flub his part squeezed his windpipe. Despite a dozen years commanding witnesses and persuading juries in the federal courthouse, wearing a judicial robe made him feel as if he were twenty-five again and about to try his first solo case.