Sleeping With the Enemy Page 12

  Bridgett debated telling her boss just exactly what Jay McManus wanted; it would definitely get her reassigned. But since she’d been more than a complicit partner earlier this morning, she kept her mouth shut. Besides, sticking close to Jay gave her some reassurance that he’d keep their secrets safe. She just needed to figure out how to keep from sticking too close to her client’s body.

  • • •

  Jay stood on the balcony off the master bedroom that overlooked his portion of Napa Valley. Bright red flowers bloomed in the boxes lining the iron railing, but as always, Jay’s eyes were drawn to the grapes; rows and rows of them in neat lines from the end of the circular driveway to the Napa River below. Behind the canopy of grapes were the foothills surrounding the valley. Above them, white fluffy clouds floated against the perfect blue sky.

  Dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and bare feet, he breathed in the aroma of the ongoing harvest. Most of the chardonnay grapes had been picked and crushed in August, but workers were now busy harvesting the cabernet grapes as well as the pinot noir. The weather was mild and Jay relaxed as the breeze blew through his damp hair. Bridgett had been right last night: Wine was his passion. A case could be made that it was in his blood.

  His father, Jack McManus, had been a vintner from New Zealand who’d come to the United States to study viticulture and bioengineering at Cornell. It was there that he’d met Jay’s mother, a bioengineering student herself. They’d married and continued on to pursue graduate degrees at U.C. Berkeley. Jay’s father had died of melanoma the day before his son’s third birthday. Two summers spent with his grandfather in New Zealand had solidified Jay’s passion for all things wine, from growing the grapes to bottling. Unfortunately, the elder John McManus had been a poor businessman. The vineyards were sold at auction upon his death to cover outstanding debts. Through no small feat of his own, Jay had carried on the family tradition. He hoped the two men would have been proud, but, truth be told, Jay had done it for himself. He’d never really known his father or his grandfather that well. Jay’s dream was to have something concrete to pass down to his own child someday.

  A flash of pink caught his eye, and Jay watched as Charlie spread a towel over one of the lounge chairs beside the pool before pulling off her wrap and laying her bikini-clad body in the sun. She’d been avoiding him since he’d arrived a few hours earlier, but Jay had been only too happy to give his sister her space. He needed time to regroup after the past thirty-six hours and his mad scramble to locate her after she left Baltimore with no word. This was the second time in a week that she’d holed up in one of Jay’s homes as opposed to the seven left to her by her late father. Even more telling, she’d come to California alone.

  Deciding he’d put their confrontation off long enough, he made his way downstairs and toward the pool area. The pool was built to look like a tropical lagoon with rocks lining one end of the sea-green water, while a wood pergola hung over its other end. Tall Italian cypress trees shielded the spot from the eyes of the many workers gathering the grapes a few hundred yards away. Grabbing some necessary armor—in the form of a cold beer from the poolside kitchen—Jay stretched out on the lounge chair next to Charlie. Closing his eyes against the afternoon sun, he took a long sip from his beer.

  “No wonder you have that awful farmer’s tan,” his sister said. “Ever think of putting on a bathing suit?”

  “You would be the expert in tan lines. According to the tabloids, you’ve been skinny-dipping in Thailand.”

  “Don’t believe everything you read.”

  “I wouldn’t have to if you communicated with me.”

  “I’m communicating with you now.”

  Jay took another fortifying swig of his beer. Charlie was baiting him, angling for a fight, probably thinking it was her best defense to get him to leave her alone. She was wrong.

  “What are you doing here, Charlie?”

  “What are you doing here, Jay?”

  Jay swore ruthlessly under his breath. “Charlotte Elizabeth, answer the damn question!”

  She flinched beside him. “I’m growing my baby. I’d hoped to do it in private, but since you arrived with your entourage, it seems that won’t be the case.”

  He blew out a frustrated sigh. “If you wanted to be alone, you would have picked one of your own houses. You knew the Blaze are playing here this weekend. I’ve invited a houseful of people for Saturday night.”

  “Who says I’m staying until Saturday?”

  Jay risked a glance at her then. His sister’s face was drawn tight and her eyes were red rimmed and swollen. She looked nothing like a woman aglow with pregnancy. Clearly, she wasn’t handling her condition as well as he’d thought she was. Reaching a hand across to her, Jay took her fingers in his. “I had hoped you would stay. These parties are no fun.”

  “So you want me to share in your torture?” A weak smile appeared on her face. “Why do you even play host if you enjoy them so little?”

  “I have an image to maintain.”

  They both chuckled but neither of them withdrew their hand. Instead, they sat there in companionable silence for a few moments before Linc ambled out from Jay’s office.

  “Did you have to bring your puppy dog?” Charlie asked, yanking her hand away.

  Jay bit back a grin. There wasn’t a woman alive who Linc couldn’t charm, and Jay suspected his sister liked his affable young assistant more than she let on. Jay tucked that observation away in case he needed it in the future. “Kennels are so expensive these days.”

  “He’s annoying,” she said loud enough for Linc to hear as he approached.

  “Hmm. He says the same thing about you.”

  Linc ignored Charlie’s barb, instead greeting her with his most mesmerizing smile, turning up the wattage until his sister was forced to look away. “I’ve arranged for a car to pick up Ms. Janik. They left Boston an hour ago, so she should be arriving here at the vineyard sometime after eight our time.”

  “More people are coming tonight?” Charlie huffed beside him, sounding a lot like she had when she was eleven.

  “Just my lawyer.”

  “Why can’t she stay in town? Some of the state’s best B and Bs are there.”

  “I know,” Jay said. “I’m putting the media specialist who’s also coming to this meeting up in one.”

  “Jay,” Charlie cried. “I’m in a delicate state here. I’d really prefer not to have to interact with strangers.”

  He ignored the tears. Years of her crying wolf had toughened him up to her antics. “Don’t worry. I’ll be the only one ‘interacting’ with her.” With any luck, most of their interaction tonight would be in the king-sized bed in his bedroom. But Jay wanted Bridgett to meet Charlie, too. Throughout that summer long ago, he’d often imagined what would happen when the two people he loved the most met. Too bad the years had erased the people that the three of them once were.

  “Fine,” Charlie snapped. “But don’t expect me to be nice to her.”

  Linc opened his mouth to add his two cents before wisely thinking better of it. “I have an update, also, when you get a chance,” he said instead.

  Obviously, whatever it was, it was something Charlie didn’t need to hear. While he appreciated Lincoln’s circumspection, his jaw tightened in apprehension of what his assistant—and Donovan Carter—had uncovered. “I’ll be right in after I finish my beer.”

  With a nod to Jay, Linc gave Charlie a salute and headed back into the house.

  Charlie tsked. “You two are up to no good again. Let me guess: The feminists and the cheerleaders are ganging up on you and burning their bras and pom-poms at Sunday’s game?”

  “Funny.” Jay guzzled the remainder of his beer. “Just boring business matters to take care of. We don’t want to put you to sleep.” He stood from the chair and turned to walk away.

  “Jay,” she called. “I really do
n’t feel up to traveling right now, so I guess I’ll stay for your stupid party.”

  Some of the tension he’d been holding in seeped out of his body. He smiled at her. “I’m glad.” He took a few more steps before turning back to her. “Listen, I have meetings in the morning, but maybe tomorrow we can head down to Stanford and have dinner with Mom?”

  Charlie shot from the chair. “Hell, no! I told you I didn’t want Mom to know until I had a plan.”

  “It’s just dinner, Charlie. Not true confessions. It’s not like anyone can tell you’re expecting.”

  She glanced off into the setting sun and Jay swore at himself when he glimpsed tears in her eyes again. “It would be a lie of omission.”

  “Every day you don’t tell her is a lie of omission.”

  Her face was tormented when she finally looked at him. “You’re a prick, you know that?”

  “I’ve been called worse.” He shrugged. “Suit yourself. I don’t even know if Mom is free tomorrow.” He marched toward his office, wondering why the hell he even dealt with his sister or his mother. Or women in general. But then his memory drifted back to the mind-numbing sex he’d had with Bridgett this morning and a slow grin spread over his face. Sex was the only form of communication he could handle with women. And tonight he and Bridgett would be conversing between the silk sheets upstairs.

  Linc was on the phone when Jay strolled into the office. He signaled for Jay to close the door leading to the patio. “It’s Donovan. I’ll put him on speaker.”

  “Please tell me you’ve found this cheerleader, Don,” Jay said as he sat down on the leather sofa across from his desk.

  “I wish I could. I really do.” Don sounded as defeated as Jay felt. “I just keep coming up against dead ends everywhere I turn. Even her parents have disappeared. According to the church where her mother works, they’ve gone to Missouri to visit a sick relative.”

  “She hasn’t been on social media since the case was filed a week ago,” Linc added.

  “I take it you’re on your way to Missouri,” Jay asked.

  Don growled something unintelligible.

  “The team doesn’t travel out here until Friday night,” Jay said. “That gives you forty-eight hours to find this woman. I just want to know who’s behind this lawsuit. If it’s just her sister-in-law’s attempt to finance her own pocketbook, then we’ll deal with it in court. But if it’s something more, I want to be prepared. This ought to be a cakewalk for you, Don. After all, she’s not a hardened criminal.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Don sighed loudly. “Just don’t tell the guys over at NCIS that I’m chasing down cheerleaders, okay?”

  Linc laughed. “Good thing your wife works for the team. At least she can’t take offense to the hunt for the Blaze cheerleader.”

  Donovan was married to the team’s public relations director, Asia Dupree. “Actually, she may be of some assistance when I do find Jennifer Knowles. She’s more likely to open up to Asia than to me.”

  “If you’re asking if your wife can join you on your road trip, that’s up to Hank,” Jay said. “But I’ll be sure to tell him your idea has a lot of merit.”

  Linc disconnected and glanced past Jay’s shoulder out toward the pool area.

  “Something on your mind, Linc?”

  “Just that for a pregnant woman, your sister still looks hot.”

  “I’ve been jonesing to punch someone for two days. One more word and it’ll guarantee that it’s you.”

  “I just meant that if we’re trying to pin down a time frame for . . . you know . . . when she actually got pregnant, it had to be recent. She can still carry off a bikini without being obvious.”

  Jay rose slowly from the sofa, but Linc held his ground. “Remember, that’s my baby sister you’re ogling, Linc. Even if it’s under the guise of detective work.”

  “Sure, boss.” Linc reached for a folder on the desk. “By the way, according to the PI following her friend Blaine, he arrived in the area at about noon today. He’s staying with a group of friends over in St. Helena.”

  Swearing beneath his breath, Jay took the folder. “Just as long as he stays away from my house.”

  “That’s the case list you’ll need for your meeting with the media consultant tomorrow. I took the liberty of making them each their own copy. She’s set to arrive at ten. Is there anything else you need me to do to get ready for that meeting?”

  Jay thumbed through the list of outrageous claims made by women once in his employ—some he’d met, a few he’d slept with, but most he’d never even laid eyes on, much less any other part of his body. But if his hunch was correct, there was one person manipulating those claims. And it was the same person likely behind Jennifer Knowles’s class action suit and her lawyer’s blackmail threats.

  “Yeah.” Jay walked over to his desk, picked up a pen, and scratched a name on a piece of paper. “I want you to find this person for me.” He handed the paper to his assistant.

  Linc eyed the piece of paper before looking up at Jay expectantly. “All I get is a name to go on?”

  “Nope,” Jay said as he headed out to find his vineyard manager. “You’ll find a complete dossier in the file of former employees on the McManus hard drive.” He paused before heading toward the winery. “And, Linc, the sooner you can get me their whereabouts, the better.”

  Ten

  The sun had set nearly an hour before, but Bridgett had no trouble picturing the scenery as the chauffeured car carefully snaked its way through the twists and turns leading to Jay’s vineyard. She’d avoided this area of California for this very reason: It would remind her too much of that summer spent in Italy. The headlights illuminated the rows upon rows of grapes, their rich fragrance signifying that the harvest was in full swing. The car came around another curve and passed through iron gates. The drive was lined with olive trees, their craggy trunks wide and twisted, indicative of their longevity in the vineyard. Landscape lighting lit up a sprawling house built in the style of an Italian villa, with multiple terraces and alcoves seated behind a circular drive complete with a fountain in its center.

  The driver parked the car at the front door and climbed out. Bridgett wasn’t able to move as quickly. Her stomach bottomed out at the overwhelming beauty of the estate surrounding her. It wasn’t fair. How could Jay live in a place so steeped in memories of their summer together while she avoided anything that triggered those thoughts? For the tenth time in the last four hours, she cursed Stuart for sending her on this errand.

  Her door was opened and she was greeted by the sound of the fountain’s spray mingling with the chorus of crickets and tree frogs. Bridgett looked up, expecting to see the driver; instead her heart nearly stopped in her chest. Jay was standing in the driveway, waiting to help her out of the car. But it wasn’t the cool, buttoned-up Jay who rode roughshod over the business world and the NFL. This Jay was the man she’d fallen in love with all those years ago, looking sexy as hell in his worn jeans, work boots, and a faded Blaze T-shirt.

  “Welcome to my vineyard, Bridgett.” He held out his hand to help her out.

  Bridgett didn’t dare touch him. Tears burned the backs of her eyes at the very sight of him. He wasn’t supposed to look this calm and unaffected. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to kiss him or slug him, and she hated the feeling of being so out of control. It was just that she was exhausted from the long day, she reminded herself. She was here for business, nothing else. Ignoring his hand and the memories of this morning in his jet, she climbed out of the car unaided.

  “I told the driver to take me to the B and B where Mimi is staying,” she snapped, letting her anger serve as a shield between the two of them.

  “Mimi got the last room,” he said as he guided her into the lavish two-story foyer.

  He was lying; she was sure of it. But when she turned to call him on it, she was stopped by the weariness on his fa
ce. Sure, he was dressed as he used to all those years ago, but his face was older, more wary—harder somehow. She recognized it instantly because she felt the same way, deep in her soul.

  “Surely there’s more than one hotel in this area,” she asked with a little less bluster.

  A corner of his mouth eased up as if he’d won somehow. “None that would be nearly as accommodating as you deserve.”

  No, no, no! There wasn’t going to be any more “accommodating” or anything else. She was here for a meeting and nothing more. All she had to do was remember that Jay was the enemy. That and keep her panties where they belonged.

  “Look, it’s been a really long day and I just want a quiet place to get some sleep. If you could just show me to my room now, that would be great.”

  He looked as if he might say something else, but then he just nodded. “This is Josie Campos. She’s in charge of the house. She’ll take you upstairs.”

  Embarrassed that she’d likely come off as a total bitch in front of a stranger, Bridgett turned to find a middle-aged woman with caramel eyes and thick dark hair braided to one side standing quietly near the stairs. She wore a denim shirt, khaki pants, and very bright smile. “If you’re on East Coast time, you must be exhausted,” she said. “Follow me. I’ll show you to your room.”

  The room Josie took her to was more like a luxury suite, complete with a huge bed and a sweeping wrought iron balcony overlooking the vineyards. A fluffy robe hung from an antique dress stand in the corner of the room. Directly across from it was a beautiful hand-carved table with a basket of fresh fruit, some nuts, and some chocolates. A small glass-door fridge held wine as well as bottled water.

  “It’s nicer than any hotel in the area,” Josie said proudly.

  Bridgett didn’t doubt that. “Yes, I’m sure it is.” She gave the woman a warm smile, hoping to erase her earlier impression.

  “The bath is through that door.” Josie pointed to a large ornately carved mahogany door that stood slightly ajar. From what she could see, the bathroom was huge and as richly appointed as the bedroom. Suddenly, a soak in a hot tub sounded heavenly to Bridgett. “Mr. McManus says you’re a tea drinker. Is there anything else you’d like with breakfast tomorrow?” the housekeeper asked.