Instead, Richard had sent this…cupcake, and now Rafael had absolutely no idea what to do with her.
“The bathroom’s through there.” He gestured to a door behind him and to the right. “If you want to clean up.”
“Oh, right, thanks,” she murmured, obviously still a little dazed from her close call. Unless the blank eyes were part of her normal demeanor, in which case Diego was in a lot more trouble than he’d originally thought. And that was saying something.
“I’ll just be a minute.”
Rafael nodded as he picked up the phone and dialed the local precinct. He figured he’d have plenty of time to call the cops and check on the kids—women like her didn’t know the meaning of “just a minute.” She’d be in there checking out her appearance for a while.
Not that there was anything wrong with how she looked, despite her close call with Nacho. Rationally, Rafa knew that part of his anger at her stemmed from her total lack of regard for herself.
Everything about her was a come-on. From her long, long legs and her do-me heels to her slender curves and chili pepper red hair, she screamed for attention. Add to that skin as pale and creamy as his mama’s flan and her made-for-sex mouth, and the woman was a walking wet dream for the wolves roaming the Tenderloin’s dark streets.
Still, despite the fairy princess looks, something about her bugged him. Something that wouldn’t fit into the mold he imagined she fit—
The door to the bathroom swung open and she stood there, as beautifully put together as she would have been for a charity ball. It irked him, had him slamming the phone down on the third ring.
He would call Jose later—have the detective run by and scare the hell out of Nacho and his band of merry morons. The boys weren’t going anywhere. Rafael shook his head. It wasn’t as if they had anywhere else to go. Right now, he had enough to deal with between the lawyer and Diego.
The lawyer cleared her throat as she walked carefully into the room, her back ramrod straight and her limbs flowing sensuously with every step she took. No wonder the boys on the street had been all over her—she looked like a goddess and walked like a ballerina. Was there some school rich girls went to that showed them how to walk like that or was she just a natural?
“I want to thank you for rescuing me. I’m grateful—”
“I don’t need your gratitude.”
“I know. But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel it.” She reached into her briefcase. “I’d like to do something to say thank-you. Maybe make a donation to—”
He shoved the bag back down. “I don’t need your money, either.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Sure you did.” He made sure his smile cut like glass. “But there are some things in life that can’t be bought. I’m one of them.”
Silence stretched between them, and his nerves started to twitch before she finally broke it.
“All right then.” She held her hand out. “I’m Vivian Wentworth.”
“I know. Rafael Cardoza.” Instinct had him meeting her palm with his own, though he regretted it the second he touched all that soft, smooth skin.
“Well, then, I assume you know why I’m here.” She glanced around. “Where’s Diego?”
“Upstairs. Working.” Rafa leaned down a little until his face was only inches from hers. “I want to make one thing perfectly clear. I don’t know why Richard sent you. I don’t know what he expected someone like you to be able to do for Diego.”
“Someone like me?”
“You know what I mean. You look like you spend more time in a salon than you do in a courtroom.” Even as he said them, he couldn’t believe the words had left his mouth. He was acting like a total bastard, but he couldn’t afford to be nice. Diego was too important for him to put the kid’s fate in the hands of a lawyer who didn’t know what she was doing.
“I can assure you I have seen my fair share of courtrooms,” she snapped. “And then some.”
“Yeah, well, excuse me if I’m not rolling in confidence here. You don’t exactly look like the type to care about what happens to a poor Hispanic kid accused of murder—even if he is innocent.”
She stiffened, her eyes darkening, and for a moment he would have done anything to take back the words. There was no call to speak to a woman like that. His mother would have had his ass.
But Vivian Wentworth, Esquire, handled his shit like a champ. She simply nodded and said, “Then it’s a good thing he’s got me, isn’t it?”
It was the first indication Rafael had that he might have underestimated her. But not the last.
CHAPTER TWO
OUTRAGE EXPLODED THROUGH her and, for the second time in less than an hour, Vivian understood what it was to want to do violence. She would like nothing more than to beat this smug, self-righteous idiot to a bloody pulp. Yes, he’d rescued her, but one act of kindness didn’t make up for the rest of his boorish behavior.
“I’m a very good lawyer, Mr. Cardoza, and I give one hundred percent to all of my clients, whether they’re pro bono or not.”
“I didn’t mention anything about you taking the case pro bono, Ms. Wentworth. Funny that that’s where your mind went automatically.”
Gritting her teeth, Vivian kept the smile on her face through sheer force of will. “Facts are facts.” She glanced at her watch pointedly. “And we’re already over an hour late getting started. I’d like to see my client now.”
“About that…”
She felt her shoulders tense a little bit more, and braced for the verbal blow she had a good idea was coming. He didn’t disappoint her. “Don’t push him. Diego’s really broken up about this whole thing, and I won’t put up with you running around, messing with his head.”
“Messing with his head?” She couldn’t keep the incredulity out of her voice. “Mr. Cardoza, your client is accused of murder and stands to spend most, if not all, of his life behind bars. Of course he’s worried—”
“I didn’t say worried.” The look on Rafael’s face was as sharp and deadly as an ice pick. “I said he’s broken up. His girlfriend and baby are dead and he’s devastated. I won’t put up with you making that worse.”
“I’m here to help Diego, not make things worse.”
“That remains to be seen, doesn’t it?” He tossed the words over his shoulder as he headed for the door.
She closed her eyes and took a few deep, calming breaths. Murder was against the law, she reminded herself with every exhale. If it wasn’t, she wouldn’t be here trying to deal with this utterly impossible, completely deplorable man. She counted to ten and waited for the urge to strangle him to pass. Or at least mellow.
A huge part of her wanted to quit before ever getting started. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have lots on her plate with the numerous divorce cases she was currently handling, as well as her work at the women’s shelter. Besides, it was bad enough having to battle the entire legal system for a kid accused of a vicious crime, without having to battle his prickly protector, too.
She sighed heavily. Quitting wasn’t really an option. Rafael obviously had some kind of pull with Richard or she wouldn’t be here. Her boss could spout off about helping the community all he wanted, but getting personally involved wasn’t his typical modus operandi. Like her mother—and most of the other rich people she knew—he just wrote a big check to charity twice a year in