Page 58 of Legal Seduction
She’d thought maybe coming here—to the fashion house—would inspire her. She was around all the beautiful people since models, photographers and other designers overflowed the old warehouse. But none of those people were as beautiful as Simon. He was really beyond handsome, beyond gorgeous.
And the way he touched her, the way he kissed her...
Heat rushed through her body as tension wound inside her, tension only Simon could fully release. Her vibrator had no effect on her the past couple of nights. She wanted Simon instead.
“Hey, Bette Bow!” a husky, feminine voice called out before slender arms wrapped around her from behind. A head settled onto her shoulder as Muriel Sanz peered down at the sketch pad. “What gorgeous confections are you creating for me to advertise next?”
She tensed in her friend’s embrace. And Muriel pulled back. “What’s wrong?”
“You should have given me a heads-up,” she said, “before you went to the bar association.” Then she wouldn’t have been so blindsided. But then Simon should have been honest with her about his suspicions, as well.
“I left you some messages to call me back,” Muriel reminded her. “You’ve been MIA since you gave your notice at Street Legal.”
She couldn’t deny that, but she didn’t want to admit why she’d been. “In one of those voice mails, you could have told me what you’d done.”
“You had to know I would go straight to the bar association,” Muriel replied, her usually smooth brow furrowed with confusion, “when you gave me those notes.”
Bette shook her head, and the pins holding up her hair pulled at her scalp. She wore her glasses, too. But she wasn’t hiding anymore, not like she’d done at Street Legal. Her hair was up to get it out of her way. And her glasses were so she could see her sketches...if she ever again summoned the inspiration for a design.
“I did not give you any notes,” Bette said. “I don’t know what you’re talking about—just like I had no idea what Ronan Hall was talking about when he accused me of betraying the firm for myfriend.” Now she wasn’t sure how good a friend Muriel really was.
Bette had thought the supermodel was sweet and down-to-earth. But maybe that was just an act. Maybe everything Ronan and that PR firm had said about her was true. She couldn’t be trusted.
“Ronan...” Muriel’s wide mouth twisted into a grimace of distaste as if just the sound of his name on her lips made her sick. “Of course he would be furious at having his lies exposed.”
He was mad. But he’d also been self-righteous. If he’d been lying, would he have felt that way?
Bette didn’t know what or whom to believe. She only knew one thing. “I didn’t give you anything,” she said. “I had no idea what he was talking about.”
Muriel’s pale green eyes widened in shock. The light color of her eyes was such a startling contrast to her naturally tanned-looking skin. Her hair was a mass of different-colored streaks of blond, red, brown, gold and black. But it was too random to have been salon styled. The woman had inherited only the best trait of each of the many nationalities making up her heritage. “Those notes really didn’t come from you?”
Bette shook her head. “Why did you think they did? Was there a note or anything?” Had someone forged her name? Now she wanted to know who the hell this mole was, too.
“No,” Muriel said. “The envelope was just shoved in my box. It wasn’t even postmarked. I don’t think it had been mailed.”
“So someone personally dropped it off?” Bette asked. “What was in it?”
“Notes on Street Legal stationery. Notes about the witnesses and what Ronan had told them to say about me on the stand.” She looked sick again, sick of the lies that had been uttered and then spread to ruin her reputation.
But Muriel had risen from the ashes. No matter that it was a lie, she’d started making the most of her bad-girl reputation. And modeling Bette’s Beguiling Bows was one of the ways she’d come back into the limelight.
“I can’t believe he would do that,” Bette murmured.
Muriel gasped. “Do you think those people told the truth about me?”
“No,” Bette assured her. Despite her brief moment of doubt, she believed Muriel was a good person. She wasn’t the monster her ex-husband and Ronan had made her out to be. “But I can’t believe Hall would commit the subornation of perjury and risk his law license.”
He, like his partners, had had to overcome so much to become lawyers and build their practice. There was no way that Simon could have known the truth. He cared too much about Street Legal to risk its future.
“He’s a bastard,” Muriel said. “They all are.”
But Bette could not agree with her. She’d seen Simon do good things. He was so patient with his older clients, so supportive of former street kids like Miguel. He was not the bad guy Muriel thought he was. He was not the guy Bette had once thought he was.
She felt a flash of regret over slapping him. But she’d had a good reason. He had seduced her. Too bad she wished that he would do it again.
And again.
But he’d only been doing it—doing her—to find out if she was the mole. He didn’t really want her. Like she wanted him.
She had to forget about him and focus on the future she’d fought so hard and for so long to realize. But her pen didn’t move across the page. She’d lost her inspiration.
She’d lost Simon.
