A Little Wild (8 page)

Zach reassembled the fountain pen and placed it the ceramic holder. “The pen’s okay.”

She gazed at him. “You must think I’m a slut.”

“I think you’re incredible.”

“I’m not. I’m not usually like this at all. I—” She rubbed her neck. “You said I was shedding.”

He retrieved a red-gold curl from the desk. “Your hair. Here’s another one.”

She glanced at the curl then at him. “Oh.”

“Yes. Oh.” He dropped the strand into the wicker wastebasket by her desk.

“But you did call me babe.” She grabbed more tissues. “Once in the hall and twice in here. I don’t like it. It’s not professional. Please stop.” She wiped the remaining coffee with abrupt movements and chucked the soaked tissue in the trash.

Zach grinned. Forget opening Climbing The Walls. If he could liquefy and bottle Tess Sheridan’s overabundance of nerves, he could market it as an energy drink and earn a mint.

“What can I say? We have a history.”

“Not anymore, we don’t.” She yanked her chair to the desk and sat, her hands clasped and her spine schoolteacher-straight. The passionate irritation dissolved from her features, receding to a civil façade.

Every inch Teresa Sheridan. Not one trace of Tess S.

“That was Lawrence on the phone,” she muttered. “He said if I can’t address your needs, you’re to go to him.”

Zach chuckled, and pink hued her face.

“I’ll be honest with you, so I’d appreciate it if you took me seriously, J-Zach. You have me over a barrel, and I think you know it.”

“Over a barrel? The idea has possibilities. Although one of those big exercise balls would work better.”

Her mouth firmed. “Yes, over a barrel And I’m not talking sexually, so please drag your mind out of the gutter.”

If she held a ruler, he’d no doubt she’d rap his knuckles. “I’ll try.” Although it was damn difficult with that sexy schoolmarm thing she had going.

“Good.” The civil mask reassembled over her features. “My job is very important to me, Zach. It’s who I am. Who I want to be. Did you tell your brother about us?”

“The bar?”

“The phone call.”

He shook his head. “I thought maybe you knew him.”

“I don’t—didn’t.” Her hand shot up. “If you say anything to Lawrence about our prior association—”

Zach laughed. After their foray under the desk, her uppity manner should annoy him, but instead it placed him in danger of growing hard again. He hadn’t realized he was into dominance—he’d only mentioned whips in the hall to rile her—but right now envisioning Teresa Sheridan swapping her tidy two-piece suit and classy hairstyle for shiny black vinyl and thigh-high stiletto boots appealed immensely.

Arms crossed, he propped one hip on her desk and leaned toward her. The subtle, violet-like scent of her perfume reminded him of the bell-shaped white flowers his mother used to grow. Summer snowflakes, she’d called them. During her illness, he’d picked masses of them for her, so he’d never forgotten.

Summer snowflakes. Both hot and cold.

Like Tess.

“I already said I won’t tell L.G.,” he murmured.

Her eyebrows dipped, but she didn’t back away. “Then what is it you think I can do for you? And why should I?”

Zach suspected her bluntness stemmed from residual discomfort. He shouldn’t egg her on, but he couldn’t resist. “Tess, you wound me. Doesn’t our ‘prior association’ mean anything to you?”

She paused. “It can’t.”

“Okay. I’ll accept that.”

“Will you?”

“I just said I would.”

“I know, but do you truly accept it?”

“Yes.” Temporarily, anyway.

Relief flooded her face. “Thank you.” Her clasped hands loosened, drawing his attention to her long, glossy fingernails. A delicate ring a shade richer than her light purple suit adorned her right hand.

Time to address business. “What I was talking about is scratching your back and having you scratch mine. You want to make an impact on L.G.? I can help you. I have a lot of contacts, Tess. I’m not talking my father’s contacts, either. L.G. already has those sewn tight. But I do have several acquaintances on their way up. People with money and the urge to do something with it.”

Her head tipped, her wavy hair playing on her shoulders. “You mean potential clients?” She peered at him as if he were Attila the Hun extending an olive branch. “For me?”

“Of course for you. Do you see another lawyer in here? Although I could call in Renfrew.” He pushed off the desk.

“No! Not Phil.”

Zach sat on the desk again. “Didn’t think so.”

She retrieved her fountain pen and uncapped it. “I don’t get it. Why give me referrals? What do I have to do?”

“That’s simple, Tess. I need a lawyer. And I want to hire you.”

“You need a lawyer? Not your father?”

“You got it.”

“This has nothing to do with Halliday Enterprises?”

“There you go showing your IQ again. Not a thing.”

She shook her head. “But there are hundreds of lawyers in Vancouver. Why me?”

“Why not you?”

Tossing the pen onto the desk, she rose and paced to the office window. Her back to him, she twirled the wand to open the blinds. She gazed out at the sun-washed cityscape for several moments. Then she faced him.

“I don’t know, Zach. There has to be a reason. After how we met and…our phone call Saturday, and then everything that’s happened since the meeting, why would you want to hire me? I’m only a junior associate,” she rushed on without allowing him a chance to reply. “The truth is, I’d love to fatten my client list, but through you? Even if you wanted to stay with the firm, Lawrence or Virginia would be happy to take you on. Unless there’s a conflict of interest. Or are you pulling my leg? You probably don’t need counsel at all. You already have a cushy thing going with your father.”

Zach supposed he should feel insulted, but she had a point. To a casual observer, it would look like he had it made. Maybe he’d even agree with that assessment if working at Halliday Enterprises didn’t bore him to death.

Like his father, he needed to be his own boss.

“It’s a good thing you’re not a trial lawyer, Tess. You have a million questions, and they’re excellent ones, but you’d never let the witness answer.”

“Sorry. This isn’t like me. I can’t seem to stop being rude to you.”

“I bring out the worst in you, huh? Wait, don’t answer that. Let’s do this right. You agree to hear me out, and then, if you still have a hankering to fry my butt in butter, I’ll leave and never bother you again. I don’t make a habit of dropping into Danver’s, so it’s not likely we’ll meet again there. The only way I can see us bumping into each other is if my father guilts me into attending another Crockett’s meeting, which I don’t want to do, I assure you. I’ll rip up your phone number—”

“The real one?”

“The one your friend gave me. The fake one, too, although I’d rather not. The coaster’s a cute memento. But I’ll sacrifice it if I have to.”

For the first time since he’d encountered her in the conference room, the corners of her mouth curved up. “I don’t care about the fake number, Zach.”

“Great. Then I’ll keep it.”

She slid him a suspicious glance. “What’s to stop you from finding my real number again in the phone book?”

“Nothing. I can gaze at your real number in absolute wonderment before I go to bed each night, but I promise you I won’t use it. I won’t hassle you, annoy you…tempt you. I won’t call you at all unless you become my lawyer and I need after-hours advice. We’ll discuss my requirements in further detail if you take me on. For now, just think of me as a potential client. How does that sound?”

Her eyebrows rose. “Do I have a choice?”

“Yeah. I could talk to Renfrew.”

Her nose scrunched. “Then go ahead.”

“Talk to Renfrew?”

“No. Proceed. With me.”

“Primo.” Hell would freeze over before Zach discussed his plans with Philip Renfrew. The guy reminded him too much of the couple of opportunistic lawyers he’d already had the misfortune of consulting. However, Tess didn’t need to know that. Besides, he liked the way her aristocratic nose twitched whenever he tossed out Renfrew’s name.

Before she changed her mind about hearing his proposal, he moved off the desk and grabbed a guest chair resting against the opposite wall. He positioned the chair in front of her desk and sat, gesturing for her to take her seat again. Leaving the unspilled coffee mug for her, he reached for the half-full mug and sipped.

“You’re correct in saying I have a good thing going with my father’s company, but it’s not for me. I’m telling you this in confidence, should we reach an agreement.”

Interest crested her lightly freckled features. She nodded.

“When I say in confidence, Tess, I mean between you and me. Not your secretary, perky though she is. Not Virginia or your buddy, Renfrew. And definitely not L.G.”

“I understand.”

“Good.” He had little choice but to trust her. He wanted someone young and ambitious who wouldn’t try cashing in on his Halliday Enterprises connections. His friend Rob Tanaka wouldn’t have recommended her if she weren’t hardworking and reliable. The Halliday connection didn’t factor with her, because she already worked for L.G. and L.G. already worked for his father.

He sipped his hot coffee. Apparently, Tess wasn’t thirsty, for she let her mug sit.

“Here’s the thing,” Zach said. “I’m leaving Halliday Enterprises, but my father doesn’t know it yet.”

“He doesn’t? Why? And why on earth would you want to leave?”

A true corporate cookie. He’d loosen her up. Or have the time of his life trying. But business first.

“Because, to answer your last question, Tess, like I said, it’s not for me. If you want to be my lawyer, you need to learn to listen. Don’t let the packaging fool you.” He tapped his skull. “There’s more here than meets the eye. I’m not just another ruggedly handsome face.”

“Not conceited, either.”

“You can’t help yourself, can you? But that’s okay. You know what they say about banter—it’s a substitute for sex. We have to make up for the lack of more phone calls somehow.”

Face reddening, she glanced away. “You want to start a business separate from Halliday Enterprises?”

“Unlike anything Halliday’s ever done. So, to answer another of your many questions, there’s no conflict of interest. Not the way I see it. Although my father would probably consider any business I wanted to open a conflict.” Not because his father was an ass, but because he so badly wanted Zach to work with him and Ethan. “That’s one of the reasons client confidentiality is important to me.”

She picked up her pen. “And you’re not informing Graham of your plans?”

“Right. He can’t find out. Not until I’m ready.”

“When will that be?”

“Once the business is running, not a moment before. Same with Ethan. He works too closely with Dad. Telling him would put him in an awkward position.”

“If there’s no conflict, there’s no problem. What type of business are we talking about?”

“A climbing center. Fifteen-thousand square feet of simulated rock-climbing surfaces. Nearly fourteen-hundred square meters.” Like most Canadians, depending on the situation, Zach swapped between metric and the old Imperial system his parents had grown up with. When it came to housing and office space, Imperial measurements ruled.

“You mean one of those places where people who rock climb outdoors go when it’s raining or after work?” Tess asked.

“In a nutshell.” He itched to tack on “babe”, but didn’t.

She scribbled a few sentences on a notepad. “I agree that a climbing center doesn’t sound like something your father generally invests in. Although he might if you asked him, Zach.”

“Except I don’t want to ask him.”

“I can see that.” She wrote on the pad again. “What about financing?”

“Already taken care of. I still need to work out specifics for the first months of operation, but I’m coasting easy for the start-up.” Thanks to squeaking out of several volatile markets before they crashed.

“All right,” she said, surprising him with her quick acceptance of the financing issue. Usually, curiosity about how he earned his money inspired a slough of questions. But Teresa Sheridan, LLB, merely returned her attention to her notes.

“Fifteen thousand square feet?” she read, then glanced up. “That’s huge.”

“Not really. Granted, it’s larger than some climbing gyms, but I want to offer enough rock surfaces to suit everyone, not just advanced climbers.”

“You’ll construct walls for beginners, too?”

“Yes. For all ranges of experience.” Excitement infused him, as it did whenever he spoke of his vision, which wasn’t often. The fewer people acquainted with his plans for now, the better. He placed his coffee mug on the desk. “The idea is to provide annual memberships and hourly rates, climbing courses with certified instructors, guided outdoor excursions, and summer programs for kids.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “That’s ambitious. What about equipment? Don’t you need special shoes? Does it work like a bowling alley? You bring your own shoes or rent them?”

“Please, no comparisons to bowling alleys, although in essence you’re right. I’ll offer both options. However, eventually, I’d also like to open an adjoining retail space stocking the latest in high-quality outdoor climbing gear. With all that square footage, there’s room for a juice bar and childcare area. If I’m going to do this, I want to do it right, Tess. No halfway measures. I’m committed.” He waited a beat. “Or perhaps I should be.”

She smiled. “Do you have a location in mind?”

“Yes, although it’s not leased yet. I checked out a space this morning that looks perfect. That’s why I was late to the meeting.”

Her fountain pen scratched along the notepad, her ease apparent now that they were immersed in legal details. “Your customers would need to sign waivers of liability.”

“That’s another reason I need a good lawyer. I’ve put a lot of thought into this. Rock climbing is one of my passions. Considering how many new ventures fail, a rule of thumb for starting a business is to choose something you feel passionate about, right?”

“To develop a hobby into a business, yes. It’s not the only way, but it’s doable.”