A Christmas Rendezvous. Karen Booth

the cat wound its way around the legs of his barstool, purring loudly enough for Jeremy to hear. He had to get to the office, so he sent a text to his housekeeper, who would be arriving around eight. There’s a cat in the house. Don’t ask. Can you bring a litter box and show it to him?

      Margaret replied quickly. You got a cat?

      Jeremy laughed. Not on purpose.

      After getting cleaned up and dressed, Jeremy left for the office, arriving promptly at seven thirty, just like every other day. Not only was the weather unbearably cold, it was gray and dreary, somewhat typical for early December, although Jeremy couldn’t help but feel like it was somehow sunnier outside than it was inside the Sharp and Sharp offices.

      The other partners typically arrived at eight, but Jeremy had learned long ago that his boss, who was also his dad, demanded that his own son deliver more than everyone else. Jeremy had worked twice as hard to make partner. He brought in nearly twice as much billing. He worked like a dog for two reasons. First, he hoped that he would eventually make his father happy enough to loosen his iron grip on the firm and afford Jeremy some autonomy. The second reason fed into the first. When Jeremy had been in the middle of his divorce, he bungled a big case. The Patterson case, a multimillion-dollar wrongful termination suit. It should have been a slam dunk and instead, Jeremy dropped the ball, mostly because his personal life was falling apart. His dad might never forgive him for that grave error, but Jeremy had to keep trying. He had to live the life of a workaholic for the foreseeable future.

      In recent months, his father had been pressuring him to bring on a very specific sort of big-fish client, someone with a case that could attract media attention, even of the tabloid variety. In the internet age, one juicy headline brought a lot of free exposure. And although his dad was a traditional and upstanding guy, he loved the spotlight. He basked in it. He loved knowing the firm’s coffers were piled to the ceiling with cash.

      “Morning, son,” his dad said, poking his head into Jeremy’s office. He truly was the spitting image of Jeremy, only twenty-three years older. A bit more gray. A few more deep creases. The uncanny similarities in their appearance made the problems in their relationship that much more difficult—on the outside they were nearly identical. On the inside, they couldn’t have been more different. “Are we a go with the Summers case?”

      “We are. I’m just waiting for the signed agreement to come in this morning and then we’ll be in contact with the legal department at Eden’s.”

      His dad glanced at the chair opposite Jeremy’s desk. “May I?”

      “Of course.” Jeremy took a deep breath and prepared himself for what might come—there was no telling with his dad. Some days, he was calm and reasonable. Other times, he hit the roof over the smallest detail. It had been like that since Jeremy was a kid, and he still wasn’t used to it.

      “What do you think is the real reason Mr. Summers fired Mulvaney and Moore?”

      “Honestly? I met with Mr. Summers last night and he’s a little off his rocker. He’s dead set on getting revenge against the Eden family. This is about far more than money. I’m sure that scared off the senior partners at M and M. They’re an incredibly conservative firm.” Jeremy leaned back in his chair. “Why? Are you worried about it? There’s still time to call it off if you want.”

      His dad shook his head, pulling at his chin with his fingers. “No. No. I think it’s a good thing. Summers is desperate and he’s willing to pay for it. I don’t have a problem with getting our hands dirty. Your grandfather always avoided it.”

      Jeremy’s grandfather had been the first Sharp in Sharp and Sharp. In fact, Jeremy’s dad had declined to add an extra Sharp to the firm’s name when Jeremy made partner. He’d simply waited for his own father to pass away. Jeremy missed his grandfather. He was the real reason he’d become an attorney, and things had been much different around the office when he was still alive. His grandfather had a love for the law and the myriad ways it could be interpreted. He loved the arguments and the strategy. His dad had a love of money and winning. He refused to lose, something that had been hammered into Jeremy’s head countless times.

      “I think it’ll be just fine. I have it all under control.” Jeremy knew nothing of the sort, but he had to lie. The truth was that the meeting with Benjamin Summers at the Bacharach had been chaotic. Thus the reason for the Manhattan. Thus the reason for perhaps not exercising the best judgment with Isabel.

      “Don’t let this one get away from you. If he’s fired one firm, he’ll fire another, and I don’t think I need to tell you that it would be a real shame for our bottom line if we lost this billing. It’ll be a scramble for you if you have to make up for it.”

      It was just like his dad to make not-so-thinly-veiled threats. “He’s not going to fire us.”

      “At least you’re only going up against the Eden’s corporate lawyers. Those guys are so far out of their depth with a case like this. It should be a walk in the park if you do it right.”

      There went another insult wrapped up as praise. Jeremy wasn’t about to point it out. It never did any good. “I’m not worried about it. I’ve got it all under control.”

      “Good.” His dad rose from his seat and knocked his knuckle against Jeremy’s desk, then made his departure. “Have a good day.”

      “You, too.” Jeremy grumbled under his breath and got back to work, writing up the details for his assistant so she could set up the meeting with the Eden’s legal team, which he hoped could happen tomorrow. It was the only thing he could do—try to move ahead. Try to make Dad happy. And after that, he’d need to dig into the mountain of work on his desk. Anything to take his mind off Isabel Blackwell and their amazing night that went horribly wrong.

      Isabel arrived at Eden’s Department Store shortly before 10:00 a.m. the morning after her rendezvous with Jeremy. Her lawyerly instincts normally had her keyed up and wide-awake before a client meeting, but she was so tired she could hardly drag herself out of the taxi.

      She hadn’t managed more than a few minutes of sleep. After his departure, Jeremy’s warm smell lingered on the sheets, meaning the memory of his touch followed her with every toss and turn. If the condom hadn’t broken, their night might have gone on to be nothing less than perfect. He might have asked to see her again, an invitation she would have eagerly accepted. She might have started her new life in New York on a positive note. But the moment they had their mishap and Isabel witnessed firsthand how anxious he was to get out of her room and away from her, she knew he wasn’t the right guy. It didn’t matter that he was charming, sexy and one of the most handsome men she’d ever had the good fortune to meet. She needed more. She needed a man who would stick around, not run for the exits the instant things got serious.

      Per her brother Sam’s directions, Isabel took the elevator up to the top floor where the Eden’s executive offices were. Sam was sitting in reception when she got there.

      “Hey, handsome,” she said as Sam got up out of his seat.

      He was dressed in all black—suit, shirt and tie, just as most days. He placed a kiss on her forehead. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

      Isabel wasn’t quite so happy about it, but she was hopelessly devoted to her brother and that meant she was going to take one last dubious legal assignment before turning her sights to less messy work. “I’m still not sure I’m the right person for this job.”

      “Are you kidding me? You’re the exact right person for this job. You’re an expert at making problems like this go away.”

      The subtext of Sam’s words made Isabel’s stomach sour. This wasn’t the sort of case that got wrapped up by legal wrangling and negotiation. Whenever you had very wealthy, powerful people fighting over something valuable, it inevitably turned into a race to the bottom. Who could dig up the most dirt? Who could make the other side cry for mercy first? “Sam, you know I don’t