Surprisingly, Zach was already there, sitting on a bench in the foyer, not pulling the I’m-such-a-busy-guy-I-can-barely-squeeze-you-in routine that a lot of attorneys seemed to do. He looked good. Too darned good. He was fit and trim, his skin tanned from serious hard work instead of a tanning bed. He had thick, nearly black hair that waved just a little and a face as handsome as sin.
He dressed well—a short-sleeved yellow oxford cloth shirt with light beige slacks and Italian loafers. He looked great in his clothes, sophisticated as she had never imagined the ruffian in studded black leather she had known in high school would ever manage.
And yet something of that hard-edged youth remained. It was there in the line of his jaw, the faint curl of his lip, the slightly arrogant set of his shoulders. It seemed to make him all the more attractive.
Which was exactly the reason if she’d had a way to call him she would have cancelled.
“Right on time,” Zach said, coming to his feet the moment he saw her. “I wasn’t sure you would actually show up.”
“I wouldn’t have, if I’d had your cell number. I would have cancelled. This is crazy, Zach. What are we doing here? You and I have nothing in common. I have no idea why you asked me to lunch.”
Elizabeth could hardly believe she’d agreed to meet him. Zachary Harcourt was the last person she wanted to spend time with. To say nothing of the fact she’d been seeing his brother. Carson would be furious if he found out she had met Zach for lunch. Though she didn’t really owe the man any particular loyalty, at least not yet, somehow she felt guilty.
“I asked you to lunch because I don’t like eating alone. And we have lots of things in common.”
A short, overweight hostess appeared just then, ending her reply. The woman jerked a pair of menus out of the holder next to the cash register. “Two of you?”
Zach nodded.
“This way.” The woman started walking and they followed her through the dining room, which was done in a western motif with cattle brands etched into the trim around the windows and doors. At a wooden table, Zach pulled out one of the low captain’s chairs for Elizabeth, then took a seat himself.
“So what exactly is it that we have in common?” Elizabeth took a drink of ice water the hostess brought to the table.
“For one thing, we both have an interest in helping kids improve their lives.” Zach spread his paper napkin across his lap. “And then there’s the fact that we both hate politics.”
“What? That’s crazy. How do you know I hate politics?”
“Come on, Liz. Admit you were bored Saturday night. I could tell the moment I saw you.”
“I wasn’t bored. I was just…I didn’t know any of the guests very well, that’s all.”
“If you had, you would have been even more bored.”
She wasn’t sure whether to be angry or amused. The latter won out and her lips faintly curved. “If you hate politics so much, what were you doing out there that night?”
Zach opened his menu but didn’t start to read. Beneath the edge of his shirtsleeve, a pair of very nice biceps bunched.
“Walter Simino and his cronies were trying to bribe me—figuratively speaking—into supporting my brother’s campaign, assuming there is one. I told them to shove it.”
She fiddled with her menu, trying not to think of the way he had looked that day at Teen Vision, naked to the waist, hammering away on the barn, the muscles across his back stretching and tightening whenever he moved. “So if Carson runs, you intend to side with the opposition?”
“I didn’t say that. I told them I’d stay neutral.”
“Why?”
“Why, what?”
“You don’t like your brother. It’s unlikely you’d ever vote for him. Why did you agree to stay neutral?”
Zach breathed a sigh. His eyes were interesting, she thought, not just brown, but with tiny gold flecks in the irises that seemed to glow when he looked at her.
“To tell you the truth, I’m not exactly sure why I agreed. Maybe trying to hurt him that way just seemed too petty. Maybe I felt I owed it to my father. Besides, I’m too busy to get involved one way or another.”
The waitress appeared at the table, ready to take their orders. With only a quick glance at the menus, both of them ordered hamburgers and fries, though Elizabeth generally nibbled at the side dish, knowing how fattening it was.
“So what kind of law do you practice?” she asked as the waitress left and they waited for their meal to arrive.
“Mostly personal injury.”
“You’re an ambulance chaser? I never would have guessed.”
Zach laughed, the sound deep and easy, rolling over her like ripples in a stream. Dammit, she wished she weren’t so aware of him. But even when she’d been a senior in high school working at the café, she had noticed him whenever he came in. Zach was four years older, one of the best-looking boys in town. Just watching him walk through the door made something flutter in the pit of her stomach. But Zach was always in trouble, always hanging around with a bad element. Even then, she had thought it was a pity.
“Actually, we specialize in small class-action suits. We don’t do big mass torts. We prefer to handle a manageable number of clients at one time. Currently, we’re working on a pharmaceuticals case involving a drug called Themoziamine. Normally, we don’t go after the pharmaceutical companies. That’s just not our thing, but this came to us through one of our former clients and involves only a limited number of people.”
“What was the problem?”
“The drug causes brain damage in certain individuals—a higher than acceptable percentage, we believe. We’re trying to get it taken off the market.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“We’re the good guys, as far as I’m concerned. A couple years back our firm worked on a case involving three-wheeled vehicles. Nearly fifty thousand people a year were being injured, a lot of them being paralyzed or killed riding the damned things. We were able to prove the company knew the risk factor, even set money aside for settlements in their annual budget in the amount needed to cover them. The jury wasn’t happy to find that out, and eventually we were able to get them taken out of production.”
“I remember that case. As I recall, the settlement was huge.”
“Over two hundred and fifty million.”
“Wow, no wonder you can afford Armani.”
He grinned. God, he had the whitest teeth…or maybe it was just that his face was so darkly tanned. “If you noticed, I guess it was worth it.”
Oh, she’d noticed, all right. At the moment, she was noticing how great he looked just sitting there, and she wanted to kick herself for it.
The waitress arrived, providing a timely diversion. She set their hamburger platters down on a placemat decorated with cattle brands around the edge, and the aroma of freshly grilled meat rose up, making her stomach growl.
Zach didn’t seem to notice. “So what about you?” Wrapping long, tapered fingers around the hamburger, he picked it up in both hands. “You’re a social worker, right?”
“Independent family counselor.”
“Okay, so are you working on any interesting cases?”
He took a big bite of his burger and she watched the muscles in his neck move up and down. He might be good-looking, but there was nothing the least bit effeminate about Zachary Harcourt. Every move he made screamed masculine and virile, and Elizabeth found herself shifting