Oh shit. That.Over the past week, Alanna had been so consumed with putting together her new client pitches, she’d forgotten to call Thomas off the hunt. Now that she was intent on staying in Yucca Hills and representing clients that had nothing whatsoever to do with biotech, the non-compete clause didn’t apply. Even Chip Rupert the Third, slime mold that he was, wouldn’t try to fight her for a failing winery or a local Mexican restaurant.
“I put my best private investigator on the case,” Thomas explained. “She costs a fortune and gives me attitude like you wouldn’t believe, but she’s worth her weight in gold. She dug up enough dirt on Chip that we can bury him and put a pitcher’s mound on top of the grave.”
In spite of herself, Alanna was intrigued. “Let me guess, your private investigator has huge tits and legs for days. She liquored up old Chip, batted her eyelashes, and he gave her his whole life story.”
Thomas laughed. “She’s 200 pounds, has a face as pretty as a brick wall, and didn’t say a word to Chip. However, she did find her way into the yoga class of Chip’s ex-wife.”
“Ooooh, I think I like this private investigator,” Alanna said.
“You’ll be ready to propose when you find out what she got,” Thomas assured her. He leaned an elbow on the table. “Turns out, ole Chip has been skimping on his alimony payments. Claims he doesn’t have the money due to ‘business troubles.’” Thomas tented his fingers. “He’s definitely losing cash flow, but he’s far from a pauper. In fact, he’s paying the rent on a Laguna Beach apartment for a hot little blonde sidepiece. My investigator called in some favors and discovered that he’s stashing his money in offshore accounts under a fake business name.”
“Oh, Chip.” Alanna shook her head. “Alimony evasion, how banal.”
“And illegal,” Thomas added with obvious relish. “So, here’s one possible play. We let Chip know what we have on the offshore accounts and suggest this information might find its way to his ex unless he allows you out of your non-compete clause.” Thomas took a last, appreciative sip of wine from his glass. “That’s the clean solution.”
“The clean solution?” Alanna raised an eyebrow. “Meaning…”
“Meaning, if you want to ramrod this fucker so deep he’ll taste his own balls in the back of his throat, we can do that, too. See, it turns out that Ex-Mrs. Chip hired her own private investigator during their very contracted and highly contentious divorce, andthisprivate investigator managed to snag some particularly spicey footage of Chip’s sexual play time with the previously mentioned blonde sidepiece.” Chip shook his head and chuckled. “Window curtains are sadly underrated in our society.”
He spun his empty glass between his fingers, clearly playing out the moment before continuing. “As your lawyer, I’m going to advise you to never view that footage if you want to maintain your eyesight. However, I will say it involves a hobby horse, assless chaps, and spurs used in a very unpleasant manner.”
A twinkle shone in Thomas’s eye. “Now, I’m going to be very stern and serious and let you know that blackmail is illegal and so very immoral, but, if you’d like, this recording can ‘fall into your lap.’ I’m sure with all of your ingenuity, you’ll make good use of it… in a way you definitely shouldn’t tell me about.”
Thomas clapped his hands together. “So, what’ll it be? Squeaky clean threats or down and dirty? Let me guess. Down and dirty.” His eyes twinkled again.
Alanna could only shake her head and smile. Just a month ago, she would have been 100% on board with diving in the mud with Thomas. Bullying, blackmail, and threats of utter humiliation were no more than what a sleazebag like Chip Rupert deserved.
“That’s beautiful, Thomas. You’ve outdone yourself, really,” she told him. “But I’ve got to choose none of the above.” She explained her new plans, and when she was done, Thomas shook his head in utter confusion.
“This town is a small pond, Alanna,” he told her. “You’re a big fish.”
“I think there’s enough room for me,” she responded. “But I don’t want your investigator’s talents to go to waste. If you don’t mind, I’d like you to pass on the information about Chip’s offshore accounts to his ex-wife. I have a feeling she’ll make his life utterly miserable in my stead.”
“You got it,” Thomas said. “And the assless chaps sex tape with the mistress?”
Alanna shuddered. “Fill a dumpster with gasoline and burn every copy you have. You might want to bring a priest in case demons fly out of the flames.”
Thomas chuckled and clasped his hands behind his head. They were silent for a while, and Alanna closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of the cool air on her neck.
“I guess that leads us to other matters,” Thomas spoke up at last. “I’ve got to be honest, I don’t have time to make it all the way down here every week. You mind driving up on Thursdays? Dinner’s on me from now on.” He gifted her another wink.
It took her a moment to understand his meaning.Right, their Thursday night hookups. That seemed like ancient history.
“Though, while I’m down here…” Thomas brushed his thumb over his lips. “I’m sure we can find a half-decent hotel. One with room service, of course.”
“Actually, about that…”
Thomas’s face fell. “Really?”
Without knowing why—perhaps because they’d shared something, fleeting as it was—she told him the truth. “I want more. I deserve more.”
“I see.” Thomas leaned back in his chair and gave her a good-natured smile. “All the best ones leave the game eventually.”
She clinked his empty glass. “Maybe you will too, one day.”
“Nah.” He waved away the idea. “My therapist tells me I’ve got a crippling fear of commitment.”
There wasn’t much more to discuss, so after Alanna finished her last sip of wine, she led Thomas back through the house. He nodded graciously to her mother, who gave him a tight-lipped little wave. At the door, Thomas brushed his lips across Alanna’s cheek. “I’m going to miss you, Boss Lady.”
