She grinned. "You tell them that when you meet them. You'll be a big hit."
He decided not to remind her she'd said he wasn't meeting them anytime soon. "I look forward to it."
She glanced at her watch. "I should get going. I have a bachelorette party to-" She stopped. "Damn. The favor. I need to make a quick call."
"Sure. I'll clean up."
While she pulled out her cell phone, he thought about all they'd told each other. They were a lot alike-breaking out of the molds that had been preset for them.
He was more intrigued by her than ever, especially knowing how she'd broken away from her uptight parents.
Of course, he still hadn't been totally honest with her. He knew-or rather strongly suspected-her upstanding father had done something not so upstanding.
But that was a professional thing, right? Attorney to attorney privilege. Or at least courtesy.
Was it really right of him to judge a colleague? On top of that, he certainly didn't feel he had the right to rat him out to his daughter. Besides, he didn't even have anything concrete to report, except a dead guy named Switzer and an odd conversation with a drunk guy named Anthony. He was tempted to put his investigator on the research, but that felt as though he were giving the whole business too much weight.
Still, keeping his suspicions to himself seemed as if he were, well … lying to Vanessa.
"Now I'm catering and socialite-sitting," Vanessa said as she closed her phone.
He frowned. "Socialite-sitting?"
"My father asked me to keep his socialite ex-girlfriend busy tonight, which I decided to do by taking her to the bachelorette party I'm catering. He actually asked for a special favor, which is strange since whenever my mother rants about how I don't sufficiently fulfill my obligation to my family, whom I'm also usually embarrassing, he just sighs."
Lucas clenched his jaw, then said, "I really don't think I like your family."
"And you haven't even met Angelica yet. She'll probably call sometime this afternoon to try to set me up with one of her husband's doctor buddies, since she hasn't tried that in almost a week."
He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. He'd like to hold her tight and keep people from hurting her-and afterward inform her sister she was off the market to setups with doctors. "You shouldn't let them treat you this way."
"I know, but I'm so good at it."
"Vanessa, they-"
She laid her finger over his lips. "I know," she said, softer, unable to hide the hurt. "I need to get going. I have tons of prep to do, and Mia's at the lake. I'm sure Millie will take a frickin' limo to the party, so I'll have to-"
"Millie?"
"Switzer. My dad's old girlfriend."
Mrs. Switzer, she's so nice. A chill raced through him as he recalled Anthony's drunken compliment. The widow.
"You know her?" Vanessa asked, obviously noticing his curiosity.
"No, though her name sounds familiar."
"Her husband just died, and you may have heard the rumors about him."
He wished he could stop the urge to ask. "Rumors?"
"He was cheating on her with some stripper. It was one of those everybody-knew-but-nobody-talked-about things. She probably doesn't know whether to cry or open a bottle of champagne now that he's dead."
Cry. She's out a big hunk of change. Or maybe not …
His curiosity had just become a quest. He had to call his investigator, who also just happened to be his suspicious, smart-as-hell cousin. It was time to get to the bottom of this. Dancing around the truth with Vanessa wasn't acceptable.
"Jeez, I've really got to go." Vanessa pulled out of his arms and headed across the room. "Can I call you later?"
He followed her to the door. "How about you let me come with you tonight and help?" And not just because he wanted to meet Millie Switzer. He didn't want Vanessa to go. He didn't want the night to pass without them being together. But the way his motivations might be perceived if she knew about his investigation was troubling.
She turned toward him. "You want to help me cater?"
"Yes."
"I don't think the groom would be very happy about that. This is supposed to be girls only."
"I'm not a guest. I'm an assistant. It'll help me understand what you do."
"It's hard work. I really don't think-"
"How hard can it be?" He slid his hands into his pants pockets. "Please. Tipsy women. Naughty lingerie gifts. A stripper fighting a beer belly. I think I can handle it."
She smirked. "Okay. I'll pick you up at six." She slipped on her shoes, then opened the door. "I won't have to come to court with you, will I?"
"No."
"Thank God. Bo-ring. And that doesn't look hard at all, by the way. Standing around, reading notes, smiling at the jury." She sniffed. "Easy. Make sure you wear black pants, a white shirt and a black tie," she added.
Then she blew him a kiss and strode out.
Laughing, Lucas corked the leftover wine and stored it in the bar fridge. She was an adventure. How could her parents see faults and ignore her amazing strength?
They knew each other's bodies; they were learning each other's minds. Would they find trust and understanding? Would their similarities temper their differences?
Did any of that even matter when he wasn't even sure he deserved her?
"IS IT ALWAYS THIS HARD?" Lucas asked as he laid another load of dirty dishes on the kitchen counter.
Vanessa stroked her hand down his broad chest. He made a luscious waiter. "Are you sure it's not hard because you watched Tonya strip down to her thong?"
"Somebody got naked? I was too busy filling champagne glasses and cutting a penis cake-a too realistic version, I might add-to notice."
"Bull." Vanessa smiled seductively up at him, letting her hand rest on his belt. "Should I … check?"
"Well … " He snaked one arm around her waist and jerked her against him, so she could feel-without a doubt-how much he was enjoying the party. "I think my excitement has more to do with your outfit than Tonya's, though the pink bow on the back of her thong was a lovely touch." He leaned down, flicking his tongue across her earlobe. "You didn't tell me you had a thing for studs and black leather."
Vanessa glanced down at herself. Leather, strapless, silver-studded bustier? Check. Tight leather mini? Got it. Fishnet hose and black patent stilettos? Oh, yeah. False eyelashes and over-the-top exotic makeup? Present as requested.
The costume aspect of their bachelorette parties had naturally been Mia's idea, and it worked wonders on uptight crowds where the hostess's goal was wild and fun. Mia had a whole collection of outfits that were presented to the client when booking her party. (Female clients only, of course. They were caterers, not hookers.)
Vanessa got a kick out of the dress up part and had told Mia she wanted the dominatrix-chick-as opposed to the client's other request of innocent angel-especially for Lucas.
"What can I say … I'm a chameleon."
He backed her against the counter. "I want you. Now."
Loving her role as the leader, she patted his chest. "All in good time, my loyal assistant."
He pressed his erection against her. "Now," he said, his eyes reckless.
She waggled her finger at him. "Don't make me get out my whip."
"I think I'll risk it." He kissed the top of her bare shoulder. "Mmm. Your skin tastes really good." He licked her. "Like sugar cookies."
She pointed at her cleavage. "It's the sparkle powder."
He dropped his head back and groaned. "Please tell me you've applied that all over."
"A few important places."
Mia swung into the kitchen, the low thump of the bass following in her wake. "Those chicks are really into this." She glanced at them. "And you two need to cool it. They want another tray of Hpnotiq cocktails. And that penis cake is demolished." She smiled at Lucas as he winced. "Sorry."
"Women are vicious."
"I'll get the cocktails," Vanessa said, stepping away from Lucas. He was way too much of a distraction to have at work.
Her partner grinned. "I think they'd rather have Lucas."
Throwing both women a cocky smile, Lucas crossed to the fridge and pulled out the Hpnotiq liquor bottle. "Duty calls, I guess."
Vanessa took the bottle from him while Mia added fresh ice to a tray of martini glasses. "You just remember who brought you here, assistant boy."