Just One Taste...(39)

Her father leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his thighs. "I can't  believe this is happening. I've invited a stripper to lunch in my home.  The last man on the planet I want my daughter involved with is  threatening to serve as my lawyer in a suit that hasn't even been filed  yet. An ambulance is bound to pull up to the front door any minute,  either for me or him and-"

"Dad … " Vanessa began in a warning tone.

"I didn't say ambulance chaser. I'm trying, Vanessa, but you're pushing too far."

The power and drive she'd felt the day of the Red Bra Incident rolled  through her. She wasn't worried about how far she'd pushed. Her father  would love her, no matter what. Even if he didn't like the way she was  snatching his precious control.

The doorbell rang, and both men started to rise.

Relieved this business was finally underway, Vanessa waved her hand. "That's my cue. You ready?"

Even though she hadn't spoken with Lucas directly the day before, the  message she'd asked Kelly to give him had explained what she needed.

His gaze on hers, Lucas nodded.

Her father folded his arms over his chest as if he had no intention of participating.

That works for me, Dad, she thought as she headed out of the room. For once, you need to let somebody else be in charge.

She took a deep breath as she opened the door, then let it out with a  rush of relief when she saw the woman on the other side. She was lovely,  not rough or hard looking. Her beautifully cut navy suit highlighted  her creamy complexion and white-blond hair. She carried a matching  briefcase and wore shining navy pumps.

Having spent time with Millie over the past few weeks, she knew Gilbert  had exceptional taste in women. Apparently, that wasn't a one-shot deal.

And despite the fact that Candy took her clothes off for a living, and  NOW most certainly wouldn't approve, Vanessa had the feeling she and  this woman would get along quite well.                       
       
           



       

"Ms. Anderson?" She smiled politely and extended her arm back as she'd seen Alice do a million times. "Please come in."

Without further comment, she led Candy into the living room. Both men  stood as they walked in, with Lucas filling in the appropriate  introductions.

Vanessa served the luncheon plates at the small oak table near the back  of the living room that her parents normally used for bridge parties or  summer dinners where everybody could see the pool and cascading  fountains without actually having to sweat in the heat and humidity  outside.

Though lunch progressed mostly in silence and weather speculation, Candy  looked up and smiled as Vanessa picked up her empty plate. "That was  delicious. Thank you."

"An old family recipe," Vanessa answered back in polite servant mode.

The moment Vanessa was back in the kitchen, though, she dumped the dirty  dishes in the sink and cracked the door so she could see and hear the  good stuff.

"Ms. Anderson," Lucas began, all charm and supplication, "my colleague  is anxious to get this matter resolved to the satisfaction of all  parties. As I'm sure you understand, Mr. Switzer's death has been a  terrible shock to his family. We'd rather not unduly burden them with  more pain and suffering. Don't you agree?"

Candy delicately pressed her linen napkin to her lips. "I do."

"Excellent. We're prepared to offer you a settlement in the amount of-"

"No, we're not," her father suddenly said, rising from his chair.

Vanessa resisted the urge to bang her head against the kitchen door.

Quickly. That had been her only advice to Lucas, a legal whiz who  undoubtedly knew all the moves anyway. Settle it quickly. She was sure  that if they could be magnanimous, appeal to Candy's sense of guilt as  the other woman, then offer her enough money to allow her to finish  school and leave the strip club, she'd be satisfied.

"What do you want?" her father went on, full of self-righteous anger.  "To cause this family more pain and embarrassment? To steal their  inheritance?"

Candy angled her head. "Actually, I'm really curious, Mr. Douglas, why  you haven't contacted me before now. I am the rightful heir of Gilbert  Switzer's estate, after all."

"You are not. Millicent is."

"But Gilbert changed his will, just three weeks before his death." She  reached into her briefcase and pulled out a thick pack of papers, which  she laid on the table between them, like the pink elephant running  through the courtroom that the jury wasn't supposed to notice. "I have  it all right here. Signed by you, and notarized by your clerk."

Her father didn't even glance at the papers. "You don't deserve that money."

She smiled serenely. "As it happens, Mr. Douglas, I agree with you."



IF LUCAS COULD HAVE GIVEN Vanessa a high five, he would have. And Candy Anderson, too, while he was at it.

Women were so amazing. And no two more so than the ones caught up in this mess idiotic Gilbert Switzer had set in motion.

He loved one without reservation. Now, he respected the other.

"I don't want Gilbert's money," Candy said, as if anyone had misunderstood.

And Douglas looked, if not confused, at least like a man who'd just swallowed a guppy.

"I loved him," she said as she rose with a delicate, prideful roll of  her shoulders. "No one will ever really understand that. I didn't know  he was married at first, and by the time I found out, I was too far  gone. I fell hard for his goofy smile and inclination to explain  complicated bypass surgery to anyone within hearing distance.

"He gave me a copy of the will a week before he died. We argued about  him giving me his money instead of his wife. He insisted, and I  temporarily accepted, thinking I could change his mind later." Her gaze  landed on Douglas. "I expect you had the same experience, Mr. Douglas."

"I did." He rose, and the Southern gentleman that had been bred in him  for generations suddenly appeared. "Please sit back down, Ms. Anderson,"  he said, laying his hand on the back of her chair. "I've been a  complete ass this afternoon, and I apologize. I know we'd both-" he  glanced at Lucas, then toward the kitchen door "-we'd all like to hear  your story."                       
       
           



       

Lucas looked at the closed door, not at all surprised to see Vanessa  breeze through it seconds later. "Vanessa is Mr. Douglas's daughter. She  prepared lunch and made sure we behaved."

Vanessa shook Candy's hand, then both women sat. "I also have a stake in making sure they didn't ogle you too much."

"I think they were more afraid of this-" she tapped the will "-than of me."

"With or without any document, you'd make a powerful witness in court, should you wish to pursue a case."

"Vanessa," her father said in warning, "the woman already said she doesn't want the money."

"Why don't you want it?" Vanessa asked, never shifting her attention from Candy.

Though she tried to smile, tears filled her eyes. "Those last moments of  his life will haunt me forever. I certainly don't need a check to  remind me."

"You can't blame yourself. You tried to save him."

If Lucas hadn't loved Vanessa already, he would have fallen at that  moment. She didn't judge people by their appearance or lifestyle, by  their bank account or social status. She didn't care about their past.  She took them for who they were in that moment. How they treated others,  those she cared about and herself.

When her father-and probably Lucas-would have come at Candy with full,  legal, intimidating force, Vanessa had recognized a softer path might  work better. While it troubled him that he and her father were equals in  the ruthless-tactics department, he also knew their connection with  Vanessa would always remind them to question that instinct.

She made Lucas better than before. She strengthened him and challenged  him. And reminded him of the rewards of protecting your own, while still  serving others. The man he wanted to be, he could be.

If only he had her by his side.

"I just gave him CPR," Candy said, accepting the linen napkin Douglas offered her with a watery smile. "It didn't help."

"You did what you could," Vanessa said gently. "Sometimes that's all there is."

Lucas wondered if Vanessa purposely knew she was comforting him as much as she was Candy.

He'd done what he'd had to do to escape the poverty and neglect he'd  sprung from. Sometimes he hadn't made the best choices-just as Candy  undoubtedly felt she hadn't by having an affair with a married man-but  he'd helped. He'd fought. He'd negotiated when necessary.

He'd worked for his clients as hard as he'd worked for himself. And if  he could now share some of that profit and experience with those who  couldn't fight for themselves, or didn't know how, then he'd learned  something. He'd bettered himself.