Read Fair Game Inc (2010) Online
Authors: Stephanie Bedwell-Grime
Fair Game Inc (2010) (2 page)
Amber looked quickly from one to the other. The likeness was unmistakable. But in their demeanor, the twins were as different as day and night. Certain the newcomer was none other than the missing Roger Charles, she gave him the same once over, noting his self-assured, haughty expression. This man certainly didn't have a flawless soul. Slightly more heavy set than his twin, he wore his clothes with an in-your-face nonchalance. Beneath the jet black jacket he sported a pair of beat up denims and a tie that had all the subtlety of a modern art painting. Hair every bit as dark as his brother's tumbled over his shoulders in unruly waves before it was captured by a ponytail now rapidly coming undone. Eyes the exact shade as his twin's never ceased their wandering. They swept over her body. The leering glance he gave her made her shudder.
Amber's shoulders slumped and she drew in a shaky breath. Now she was going to have to revise her form to include a box to check in case the victim had an identical twin.
Sandy, she wailed inwardly. Why didn't you tell me?
Her victim stared angrily over her head at the approaching man. "Well, little brother," he growled, "you've got some explaining to do." He looked menacingly down at Amber. "And so do you, Miss Shaw."
"Little brother?" she blurted.
He held out his hand, as if making introductions at a formal business dinner. "Miss Shaw, allow me to introduce my brother, Roger Charles. Younger than me by half an hour."
Amber sucked in a shaky breath and squared her shoulders. She might just have made the worst mistake of her career, but she'd be damned it she'd let them know it. Forcing calmness into her voice, she managed to hold out her hand with some composure and look up at the man who towered over her by at least a foot. "You have me at a disadvantage Mr.--"
"Charles," he snapped, taking her hand. Despite the ice in his lap, his hand was warm, his touch practically electric. "Grayson Charles."
"Grayson," she repeated with a sick smile. "Roger's twin."
He nodded curtly. Roger, she noted, had turned away snickering rather obviously to himself, which did nothing to improve his brother's mood.
She looked from one to the other. With both of them in view the differences between them couldn't be more obvious. Roger drew attention like a sponge with his brash clothing and irreverent manner. In contrast Grayson reminded her of a still pond, teaming with life and secrets below the surface. Beyond the obvious anger in his dark eyes hurt hovered barely concealed. The quiet ones were always the most intriguing. Had they met under other circumstances, she'd most definitely have been interested.
Nice one, Amber, the thought roared through her mind. Not only do you dump ice on the wrong guy, you dumped it on the one who obviously doesn't deserve it. Well, the deed was done for better or worse. No sense contemplating the intriguing Mr. Grayson Charles further. Not after the way she introduced herself.
He stared at her awaiting her reply. She wracked her brain trying to remember what she'd been saying. "Roger's twin," she repeated, though the only thing they seemed to share were the same good looks. For lack of a better response, she said stupidly, "I see."
"I don't believe you do," Grayson said. "You see, Miss Shaw, I'm a practicing attorney. And you'll be hearing from me shortly regarding restitution for this prank. For the ruin of not only my pants but my busy evening. Need I outline for you, Miss Shaw--"
"Ms. Shaw," she insisted. Normally, she wouldn't bother, but since he was prattling on without even giving her a moment to explain, she felt an instinctive need to interrupt his tirade. "And I'd be happy to pay your dry cleaning bill, Mr. Charles."
He waved her generous offer aside. "As I was saying, I am needed elsewhere this evening, and you have just thrown a serious snag into my schedule. I'll be seeking compensation not only for my pants, but for my time at my usual billable rate." He snatched up her hand and shook it vigorously. "It was nice meeting you, Ms. Shaw."
Another jolt of heat raced through her, deepening the crimson blush spreading across her face. Grateful for the dim lighting, she tore her hand from his with all the disdain of a displeased monarch. Drawing herself up to her full five foot one and a half inch height, she whirled on her heel and strode off through the restaurant.
"Hey!" one of the patrons called after her. "What about that coffee?"
"Get it yourself," she snapped.
And disappeared through the restaurant doors.
****
Heedless of his brother's smothered laughter, Grayson watched her go. Just when he thought the night couldn't get worse, a red-haired spitfire of a woman dumps an entire bucket of ice in his lap. Back at the office a good four hours of work awaited him, and an early morning meeting wouldn't keep out of deference to his bad evening.
"I'm sorry."
Grayson forced himself to meet his brother's gaze. Roger looked anything but.
"I hope you are," he managed before Roger cut him off.
"You can't blame me because Sandy was so miffed she hired a private investigator to track me down and dump a bucket of ice in my lap."
"I can certainly blame you," Grayson forced his temper back down to a manageable level, "because it was my lap that got iced."
"How was I supposed to know she'd be real broken up about it?"
"You dumped her, Roger. How did you think she'd feel? How would you feel?"
"I don't know. It's never happened before. Be the first one out of the gate, that's my motto."
"Among others," Grayson muttered sourly.
"Ah, come on, Gray. It was funny."
"Perhaps from your perspective."
"Anyone else would think so."
"Anyone else?" his voice rose. "Fine, little brother. Next time you have another romantic mishap you call anyone else but me. I'm sick of cleaning up your mess, romantic or otherwise. I took time away from an important case tonight to hear the post-mortem on your latest tryst. I sat here all night while you unburdened your romantic woes. And this is what I get for my trouble. No wonder you haven't found Ms. Right yet. You don't stick around long enough to get to know more than her name."
Roger opened his mouth to defend himself.
"No, keep quiet for once," Grayson snarled. "I don't have time for it. I'm out of here."
He smothered the urge to haul Roger up by that repulsive tie and deck him one like he had when they were boys. But by the still snickering glances from the tables around him, he guessed he'd made quite enough of a spectacle of himself for one night. Instead he snatched his jacket from the back of the chair and left his twin to pay the bill.
Should have smacked him one, he thought bitterly, climbing into his car.
And the impulsive Ms. Shaw, he didn't want to think about what he'd like to do to her. Didn't want to think about her because she'd already driven a wedge into his thoughts.
Women like that were dangerous, he reflected. How could someone so slight cause so much damage? She reminded him of a Jack Russell terrier, all bark and no bite. Except that he was already bitten.
He slammed the door of his Mercedes and let himself into the darkened office building, slamming that door too, and locking it behind him.
So why was he so angry? The question nagged him. He pushed it aside, but it bounced tenaciously back at him. He was angry he decided because Roger saw fit to pick and choose from what he called the smorgasbord of women, while he worked alone in his wet wool pants.
Why had he all but bragged about being a lawyer? Grayson winced. He positively hated it when women found his profession more attractive than he. And why on earth had he threatened her with a lawsuit? If he'd played the situation differently, she might have been sweet and apologetic. He didn't want her to think of him as just a lawyer, he realized suddenly.
Women didn't even ask Roger what he did for a living. Most of them didn't know him that long, he reflected darkly. Even the reckless Amber Shaw had been gunning for Roger. Why Roger? Always Roger. What incomprehensible attraction did his twin have? Did women really fall for those tacky pick up lines, or were they just playing along? Still, a little voice inside reminded him, for all his romantic conquests, his brother went home alone each night, just as he did. He shouldn't be so angry.
But he was. Angry at life, at the unfairness of love, and especially that the most interesting woman he'd ever met had dumped a carafe of ice in his lap. Grayson thumped the top of his desk. File folders bounced, then settled.
He should be working, but instead memories of Amber Shaw dominated his thoughts. He pulled the sopping wet business card out of his pocket and stared at it.
Fair Game, indeed. Well, he could think of one way to get Amber Shaw off his mind once and for all. If she wanted to play games it would be on his turf.
In the courtroom.
Chapter
TWO
Amber reached blindly for the bottle of aspirin she kept in her top drawer. The headache that had been building since Thursday night now echoed through her head like someone relentlessly pounding a drum. Four days, and she still hadn't had the nerve to call Sandy Wylde and explain how she'd not only botched Sandy's one chance at revenge, but also made the most embarrassing mistake of her entire career.
How had things gone so completely wrong? Why hadn't she thought to ask the right questions? Why hadn't she been more apologetic to Grayson? Couldn't she have swallowed her pride and offered to pay for Grayson's dinner?
No! The answer roared through her mind. Amber hadn't become the proprietor of a successful business by taking the blame for others' mistakes. She'd carved her own niche in the investigation field. Her only competition amounted to a shady PI with the unlikely name of James Heck. Heck, rumor had it, would play the odd gag to discredit ex-wives hoping to get generous settlements from their soon to be ex-husbands. No, she hadn't come this far to be discredited for a simple mistake. Still, if she examined her heart closely enough, Amber had to admit something about the devastatingly handsome Grayson Charles intrigued as well as irked her. Men ruled the world with their arrogance, she thought bitterly. The way she felt right now, she'd like to give both the Charles brothers an ice shower, from the head down.
Certainly, some of the blame lay with Sandy for withholding pertinent information, nevertheless Amber was the one with egg on her face. If word got around, who knew what kind of damage it might do to her sterling reputation. And get around it would surely, if Grayson Charles made good on his threat to take her to court. She pictured her name under the headline of News of the Bizarre and winced. Time to yank her head out of the sand and do some damage control.
She owed Sandy a partial refund. After all, the promised revenge had not been carried out. At least not as specified. And Sandy Wylde owed her one heck of an explanation. Amber yanked the phone out of its cradle and dialed Sandy's number.
****
"Oh, no!" Sandy's eyes widened in dismay. "He was having dinner with Grayson ... Oh no ... and Roger was in the men's ... and you dumped the ice in Grayson's lap ... Oh, Amber, I'm so sorry!" Tears spilled down her cheeks.
Amber sighed. Handing her another tissue, she made a mental note to put in an order for more Kleenex. "Not as sorry as I am, trust me."
"Oh, I should have told you," Sandy wailed. "I just didn't think it was important."
"Kind of a vital piece of information to leave out, don't you think?"
"I never thought he'd be having dinner with Grayson, not in a million years."
"He is his brother, his twin."
"I was sure he'd be there with Cindy."
"Apparently, he took a night off from his torrid love affair," Amber said dryly, feeling the last of her patience evaporate. Sandy's lower lip trembled. Feeling like a total heel, Amber pushed the box of tissue toward her.
Just then a shadow darkened the glass doors of Fair Game, Inc. Amber rose to her feet. "Hang on a second. I'll be right back."
Quite a handsome shadow, she decided staring through the glass. Hope he's not here to make an appointment, she'd had her fill of handsome men and the troubles they caused.
He smiled, as she opened the door, a cold frozen smile. "Ms. Amber Shaw?"
"I'm Amber Shaw," she said, blocking any further progress. Extra height gave him the advantage and he stared boldly into the room over her head. "Can I help you?" The tone of her voice suggested she offered to do anything but.
"You certainly can." The insincere smile widened.
"Look, I'm with a client right now, but we could make an appointment--"
He reached into the pocket of his dark suit. "This will only take a moment, Ms. Shaw." Producing a buff-colored envelope, he pressed it into her hand.
With a sinking heart, Amber looked down at the envelope in her hand.
"Do have a good day, Ms. Shaw." The leering stranger was already halfway down the hall.
"Damn," Amber muttered softly under her breath. With the edge of one manicured nail, she tore open the top of the envelope. A glance inside confirmed her suspicions. The one line she could read inside summoned her to appear in night court on September fourth.