Sleeping With the Enemy (6 page)

Bridgett took off her wet coat and laid it over one of the empty seats as Jay closed and locked the door. “I thought Donovan Carter was coming with us,” she asked as her eyes darted toward the cockpit, where the pilot was running through whatever preflight
checks were needed.

Jay removed his own jacket before he took the seat across from her. “He drove down last night. He had some other business this morning before our meeting.”

“Other business?” she said as she adjusted her seat belt. “Not having to do with the case, I hope. Scott is taking the lead on the investigative work. There’s no need for anyone from the Blaze to be involved.”

He didn’t bother answering her, instead adjusting his own
seat belt across his lap and then rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt.

Bridgett let out a frustrated sigh. “You can’t just railroad your way through this case, Jay. That’s not how these things work.”

Jay looked up at her then, his eyes cool. “Not everything Don does involves this case. But he’s a professional. I trust him implicitly.”

Which meant that Donovan Carter was likely running around the Virginia coast and mucking things up. She made a mental note to call Scott the second she had a moment alone. “You can’t control everything and everyone.”

One corner of his mouth turned up, forming that smug smile that annoyed and aroused her so much. “Who says?”

The pilot stepped out of the cockpit then, ending any chance
Bridgett had at a rebuttal. “We’re sixth in line for takeoff. Unfortunately, with this storm brewing it’s going to be a bumpy flight, so keep those seat belts fastened, okay?” He pulled the cockpit door closed behind him as he took his seat at the controls.

He wasn’t kidding about the flight being bumpy. They’d been in the air for five minutes and the plane still bobbed and weaved as though
it were a rowboat in the middle of the ocean.
Could it really be this bad for thirty-five minutes?
She thought of the emergency Xanax she kept tucked away in her purse, but she couldn’t convince her fingers to unclench from the death grip they had on the armrests to go digging for it.

“Bridgett?”

She couldn’t pry her eyes open, but the closeness of his voice indicated that Jay was leaning
forward in his seat.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” Which, of course, was a lie. Her stomach rolled as the plane took another quick dip. A tremulous moan escaped her lips. Jay swore and then she heard the sound of him unbuckling his seat belt. Bridgett’s eyes flew open, growing wide as he moved to the seat next to hers. “The pilot said to keep your seat belt fastened!” she admonished
him.

He shot her another of those “I am invincible” smiles and clicked the seat belt around him. Reaching into a cabinet between their two seats, he pulled out a silver flask and offered it to her. “Here. Drink this. It’ll help.”

Bridgett slammed her eyelids shut as the plane took another sharp dip. “No.” She shook her head. “I have a Xanax in my purse.” Still, she made no move to reach
for it.

“I think you’re supposed to take them preflight for it to be effective.”

She cracked one eye open and glared at the smug jerk. He peeled her hand off the armrest and wrapped her fingers around the flask.

“Besides,” he said. “The Xanax will string you out for the entire day. A swig of this will get you through the rest of the flight with very few aftereffects.”

Said the
Big Bad Wolf to Little Red Riding Hood.
Except he had a point. The metal was cool on her lips as she took a swallow from the flask. She tried not to be a girly girl and cough when the whiskey burned her throat on its way down. The plane lurched up and Bridgett guzzled another swallow before handing the flask back to Jay. Her gaze locked on his as he took a long drink from the flask himself. Closing
her eyes again, her fingers dug into the armrest.

She gasped as the plane dipped furiously once again and Jay’s big hand covered hers.

“You never did answer my question about why you were crying the other day,” he said. He was trying to distract her; she knew that. Still, she wasn’t grateful enough to give him the truth.

“I did answer your question. I told you it was none of your business.”

She heard him laugh softly. “You’re not the same woman you were before.”

Bridgett opened her eyes. “I’m pretty sure I already told you that, too.”

She wasn’t positive, but she thought she saw a look of regret quickly pass over his features. Bridgett closed her eyes again so that she wouldn’t have to ponder what might have
been. Jay kept his strong hand covering her much smaller one.
She hated to admit that even after all these years—after all that had happened between them—she still found it comforting. It was all she could do to not flip her own hand over and intertwine her fingers with his. But then she remembered that he was the enemy—the Antichrist. She may have been forced into representing him on this case, but that didn’t mean she was falling into his absurd plans for
some sort of affair—no matter how badly her body seemed to want to. That road only led to heartache for her. Jay didn’t have a heart. Eventually, the plane settled into a less choppy altitude and Bridgett let whiskey and the warm weight of Jay’s hand over hers soothe her. The way her life was going right now, it might be the only few moments of relaxation she’d have all day.

The weather wasn’t much better in Virginia Beach, although Jay was glad to be battling it on the ground versus in the air. Don met them on the tarmac, shuffling him and Bridgett to the rental car under cover of a huge golf umbrella. Bridgett appeared to have endured the bumpy plane trip reasonably well. After she’d downed a few swigs of Scotch, she’d closed her eyes and seemed to
meditate for the remainder of the flight, drawing from a reserve of inner strength he hadn’t known she possessed.

It was true—she had changed. The sweet-natured, bright-eyed activist was gone. Jay’s chest grew tight as he realized that perhaps that woman had never existed. Perhaps that version of Bridgett was all just a lie, like the rest of that long-ago summer. But her body had only improved
with age and Jay was willing to ignore the twinges in the area where his heart used to be just to get her beneath him again. If there’d been one takeaway from that summer for Jay, it was to keep his heart out of the bedroom. He could have a sexual relationship with Bridgett and not get emotionally involved. After all, he’d been doing the same thing with other women for years.

“Ron is going
to rent some hangar space while he waits for you to get back,” Don was saying. “The storm took a turn this morning and is projected to make landfall somewhere along the North Carolina coast later today.”

Bridgett’s eyes grew wide. “Will we be able to fly back?” It was hard to tell whether she was more panicked about getting back in the plane or potentially being stranded at the airport.

“We’ll drive back if we have to,” Jay said as he slid into the front seat. Don got behind the wheel and drove them out of the airpark. What he really wanted was a few minutes alone with the Blaze security chief so Don wouldn’t have to brief him in front of Bridgett, but the timing couldn’t be helped. “What did you learn?” he asked quietly.

Don’s eyes drifted to the rearview mirror briefly,
but Jay nodded for him to speak. “Alesha Warren is divorced with two kids. Dad is on the list of deadbeats who don’t pay child support. It’s her own shingle out in front of her law firm. She’s well respected among the legal community down here, mostly as a public defender. It’s likely her stipend from the county for being a PD that’s covering the costs for this case, because her credit cards are all
entirely maxed out.”

“You’re digging up trash on the opposing counsel?” Bridgett asked from the backseat.

Jay looked over his shoulder at her. She looked a little rumpled from the weather and the flight, but her face was incredulous.

“Yes,” he said. “Do you have a problem with that?”

Her eyes narrowed. “No, I don’t. I had Scott looking into her, too.” She let out a huff. “You were
supposed to be coordinating with him.”

Don smiled at her in the rearview mirror. “It was my intention to send him a detailed e-mail, but I decided to wait since you’d be here.”

She leaned back against the seat with another little huff. “Fine. You can fill me in just as easily as he can.”

“Well, then, you better brace yourself back there, because here comes the stinger,” Don said as
he pulled the car onto
the highway. “Jennifer Knowles is Alesha’s sister-in-law. If she can’t get the money from the daddy, I’m guessing Alesha figured here was another way to get the money owed to her kids.”

All three were silent in the car for a moment before Bridgett spoke. “That’s quite a leap. It would be difficult to prove that kind of intent in court. It’s not unusual for a family member
to represent another family member. I mean, a case could be made that I’m doing exactly the same thing.”

“Even if the two women haven’t spoken to one another in over five years?” Don asked.

“If you’re going to sue someone, why use an attorney you don’t like?” Jay asked. “Unless Alesha Warren was the one who came up with the idea in the first place and somehow co-opted her former sister-in-law
to play along.” He didn’t bother to stop the slow grin that was spreading over his face. With luck, this case would never make it to the courtroom.

“That’s still all just conjecture, but it certainly gives us a place to start,” Bridgett said from the backseat.

The rain was falling harder by the time they arrived at a small office park. Don pulled up outside a brown brick building and the
three of them hustled quickly into the lobby. Before they could board the elevator, though, Bridgett reached an arm out to stop them.

“You are not to say anything beyond ‘hello’ and ‘nice to meet you,’” she said to Jay. “Other than that, you’re to let me do all the talking. That’s what you hired me for. Is that clear?”

Don coughed softly as Jay rocked back on his heels at the fierceness
of her tone. “I’m just supposed to sit there?”

“I’d prefer you sit in the car, but since the odds of that happening are nil, I’ll take what I can get.”

This time Don didn’t bother hiding his laugh with a cough and Jay scowled at him over Bridgett’s head. “What about Don? Does he get to talk?”

She turned to Don with a serene smile on her face. “Don gets to charm them with his panty-melting
grin,” she said. “But make sure you keep your gun out of view. It can be a bit intimidating.”

After punching the elevator button, she peered into the mirrored doors, patting a stray hair into place. Don exchanged a surprised look with Jay before adjusting his suit jacket to accommodate his holster. When they arrived at the lawyer’s office, Bridgett walked in like she owned the place. She cooed
to the receptionist about how elegant the space was as if they were in Trump Tower and not some rental office space in an incubator building with furniture from Ikea. Bridgett raved about the tea she was offered despite the fact it was from a yellow box. She was laying it on thick and the staff was eating it up—until they got to Alesha Warren. A woman in her late thirties, she had flawless caramel
skin and sleek, long black hair. Her long nails were bloodred, one of them adorned with a shiny stone. Ms. Warren wore her navy power suit well, but it was clearly not of the same quality as Bridgett’s soft plum-colored skirt and jacket.

Jay sized up the woman in an instant. Despite the bravado on her face, there was a hint of desperation in her eyes and around her tight smile. For the first
time since he’d woken up this morning, he allowed himself to relax. Bridgett may be playing the charming sorority girl from
Legally Blonde
, but he knew from past experience that she could do an abrupt about-face when the need arose.

“Won’t Miss Knowles be joining us?” Bridgett asked.

The other woman’s chin jutted out. “Not today. If you want to speak to her, you’ll have to arrange a time
for a deposition.”

Don shot forward in his chair. “She asked for this meeting,” he said. “She said she had something she wanted to discuss with us.”

Obviously his “panty-melting grin” wasn’t having any effect on the opposing counsel because the woman eyed Don smugly. “She does, but she’ll be doing all of her discussing through me.” She slid a piece of paper across the table toward Jay.
He reached for it, but Bridgett was faster, snatching it up in her neatly manicured hand. “I’m sure you don’t want a lengthy court case, Mr. McManus,” Ms. Warren spoke directly to Jay. “This figure will ensure that we can resolve this today.”

While Jay would love to resolve this today, he was certain that whatever number the brash lawyer had scribbled on that piece of paper and the one in
his head were light-years apart. Bridgett glanced at the paper before handing it to him, her face giving nothing away. Jay was careful not to give anything away, either, keeping his expression stoic while inside he seethed.
Ten million dollars!
The woman had a lot of nerve.

Bridgett made a great show of gathering up her tablet and pen and shoving them in her bag. “Well, thank you for your
time, Ms. Warren. We’ll be in touch.”

“That offer only stands for twenty-four hours,” Ms. Warren said quickly.

“I’m sorry.” The air in the room seemed to still along with Bridgett as she eyed the other woman. “I didn’t realize that you’d made an offer. Instead, I think that you’ve made a
demand
. A rather outrageous one, in my opinion. I think a judge and jury may have a different number
in mind once they get a look at the facts, as limited in scope as they are.”

Ms. Warren wasn’t as practiced with her poker face as Bridgett because a few beads of sweat had formed on her forehead. “See it however you’d like, Ms. Janik, but this time tomorrow, our willingness to cooperate and keep certain
facts
from being next week’s headlines disappears.”

Don slid forward in his chair,
his aggravation barely leashed. “You mentioned these ‘facts’ when you set up this meeting, but so far all I’m hearing is a song and dance. How about we cut to the chase and you tell us what you really want.”

“Ten million dollars. It’s what my client and the rest of the class
deserve
.”

“Set up in a trust to be administered by you, I assume,” Bridgett asked.

“Through my firm, yes.”

That arrangement would net the woman a very nice salary while the settlement was being meted out, especially if her sister-in-law remained the only member of the Sparks
cheerleading squad collecting. It was a ballsy move, but, based on the documents he’d already read, the woman didn’t have a case to warrant such a settlement. This meant there was something not in play yet and Jay wanted to
know what she had. “There isn’t anything in the filing to warrant a ten-million-dollar award, so why don’t you tell us just exactly what you plan to lead with,” he demanded, unable to adhere to Bridgett’s command to sit there silently any longer. The tip of one of those dominatrix high heels of hers dug into the instep of his foot and he could have sworn he felt the heat of her bare calf through his
pant leg. As arousing as that thought was, he couldn’t let it distract him from getting to the bottom of Alesha Warren’s legal ploy.

“I’m glad you asked,” the other lawyer said. “We’ll lead with evidence that the team’s owner knowingly fosters a climate of sexual harassment.”

Jay didn’t move an inch in spite of the fact he wanted to jump across the table and strangle the woman. Don fidgeted
on the other side of Bridgett, but she appeared relaxed. “I assume you’ll have evidence to back up such an egregious claim?” she asked, coolly.

There isn’t any evidence,
Jay wanted to scream. At least none that involved the Blaze.

Ms. Warren shrugged. “We wouldn’t be here today without it. Mr. McManus left a legacy of sexual harassment accusations at his former company, all of them settled
out of court.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jay watched as Bridgett bristled slightly.
Damn.
He knew what she was thinking, but none of those cases was what Warren claimed.

“You can’t be serious,” Bridgett said. “I’ll get a judge to quash those before they even reach the court.”

Ms. Warren smiled then, her face seeming to relax as she reeled them in. “You know as well as I do that
this won’t play out in a courtroom, but rather in the court of public opinion.” She glanced smugly at Jay. “The media will eat this up and women’s groups all over will demand you be
forced to give up the team. It’s happened before. Is that what you want, Mr. McManus? To lose a billion-dollar gravy train like the Blaze over this?”

Don swore loudly. “You’re in cahoots with that damn blogger,
aren’t you? You have no intention of proceeding legally in this case.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Jay said, deftly moving his foot so that Bridgett couldn’t spear him again, because this time he wasn’t sure it would feel so arousing. “This is blackmail. Pure and simple.”

“I figured that you’d recognize it for what it was.” Ms. Warren sat back in her chair, triumphantly crossing her arms over her
chest. “Considering you’re so skilled in the art, Mr. McManus.”

Jay’s mind began to whir. He’d blackmailed many to get where he was today. Most of those involved were scoundrels who deserved to be brought down. But this smelled of retaliation. Barely thirty minutes ago, he’d been hopeful that this case wouldn’t be played out in the courtroom. Apparently, he might get his wish.
Except it would
get played out in the tabloids instead
. Without so much as looking at his companions, he stood, startling Ms. Warren from her victorious posture. “We’re done here.” He reached down and dragged Bridgett’s chair back from the table as Don stood on the other side of her.

“Thank you for your time,” Bridgett said politely, and Jay had to hold back a manic laugh. The other lawyer was a thieving
shyster who was bent on being a thorn in his side. He had another phrase besides
thank you
that he wouldn’t mind barking out as they departed, but good breeding kept him silent.

“Don’t forget, Ms. Janik,” Ms. Warren called after them. “I’ll expect to hear from you by noon tomorrow.”

The three of them quickly made their way back toward the elevator as Don muttered, “Don’t hold your breath.”

They rode the elevator down to the lobby in silence. Jay could only imagine what was going on in that gorgeous head of Bridgett’s. But he didn’t have the time or patience to plead
his case to her right now. He needed Linc to start digging. Then Jay needed to make his own list. Someone out there had access to his most personal secrets. And if those came out, there would be serious collateral
damage.

The rain was still coming down in sheets as they dashed to the car Don had parked in the visitor’s spot. With the wind swirling around them, Don opened the door for Bridgett, who quickly ducked into the backseat. Jay slid into the front passenger seat, his cell phone pressed up to his ear just as Linc answered the call.

“Hey, boss. I’ve got some bad news,” Linc began without much
preamble. “Seymour is out for the season. Torn ACL.”

Jay swore quietly. His premier cornerback had injured himself with a freaking dance move after sacking the quarterback in Sunday’s game. Now the Blaze would have to scramble to find a body to fill the secondary before Friday.

“Hank says he has some feelers out,” Linc continued. “But it won’t be cheap.”