Sitting at the far end of the conference room table, next to Ryan Marshall, was none other than Logan MacKenzie.
Ryan turned toward her, a welcoming smile on his face but reproach in his eyes. Melody recognized immediately she’d made a faux pas by being late, but this wasn’t the time to worry about it. She pasted a matching smile on her face and entered the room.
“Here she is, the attorney who will be the lead on your case. Logan, this is Melody Lawson. Melody, Logan MacKenzie.”
Logan rose, and she felt his eyes on her as she walked into the room, praying he wouldn’t say anything…at all. As much as she wanted to look away—to run away—Melody knew she could not. But there was a tiny part of her that fluttered alive, her breath catching as she looked at him.
He was wearing a dark suit and tie, and a crisp white shirt. Even conservatively dressed, he exuded the charm and charisma of a rock star. And, she had to admit, the latent sexuality was there, just beneath the surface. That same sexuality she’d succumbed to weeks before. Nothing could diminish that, not even a suit and tie.
He extended a hand and she took it, the touch of his skin on hers making her heart race.
“It’s nice to meet you, Melody.” His voice was low and he held her hand a moment longer than necessary, and Melody did nothing to pull away, as everything in the room fading away and she looked into those dark eyes. She finally found her voice.
“Yes. Nice to meet you as well, Mr. MacKenzie.” She hastily pulled her hand away, taking a step backward, hitting the edge of the table with her leg. She heard a noise behind her and recovered enough of her composure to introduce Melissa.
“This…this is Melissa Montgomery. My paralegal. You’ll be seeing a great deal of her as well.”
Logan turned to Melissa, smiling and shaking her hand briefly. Melody could see Melissa was star-struck, looking like the clichéd deer-in-the-headlights, gazing open-mouthed up at Logan. Melody coughed softly in an effort to get her attention. Ryan stepped forward into the breach.
“Shall we get started?” He looked at Melody, an eyebrow cocked. She gave him an equally puzzled look and a brief shrug of her shoulder.
Melissa had apparently realized she was indeed working, hurriedly taking a seat next to Melody across the table from Logan. Ryan took his accustomed place at the head of the table, the case file open in front of him.
“Okay. A brief history. Logan is lead single in a band called Revival. His complaint is against his manager, Jack Ashton. Do you want to explain in your own words the basis of the suit? Why you want to pursue action against Mr. Ashton?”
Logan nodded. “Ashton’s been Revival’s manager back when we were playing in little pubs in Glasgow, trying to get noticed. He’s the one who got us our first major contract. He was nothing then too; we pulled each other along, in a way.”
Logan shifted uneasily in his chair. “But when we hit it big, things changed. My band mates and I, we were happy to finally be paid for playing, paid in money, not pints. But Ashton wanted more. He convinced me to try a solo album; it did well, but my heart’s with the band, not being on my own. But then he started pushing me away from them, toward something I didn’t want, diving a wedge between us.” Logan hesitated.
“And then the money started disappearing.”
Melody had been taking notes, her head down. She looked up at Logan, noticing the change in the tone of his voice. He was impassioned when he talked about his band, but his voice suddenly grew cold at the mention of missing money.
“And is that the reason you want to bring this suit against him? For the money?”
Logan shrugged his shoulders, shifting again. “Yes, he stole money from me, from the band…and he should be held accountable for that. But it’s more than just that.”
“You want your band mates back.” Melody’s voice was low and Logan looked directly at her as he spoke.
“Aye, I do. I miss them and the music we make together. This tour has been torture, just four guys on stage going through the motions and trying hard not to bash each other’s heads in. Truth be told, the times we were paid in pints was one of our happiest. It was just us, playing our music and making people happy. There’s no living to be earned by that, but there’s something else we had. We had each other. Ashton took that away as well as our money.” He spread his hands on the table in a gesture of despair, still looking at Melody.
Melody smiled and Logan returned her smile, albeit one tinged with sadness. Something in Melody let go then, a tiny part of her anger at Logan dissolved. She was struck by his honestly, the earnest way he spoke. By his integrity. And by the simple request to have his life back to where it made him happiest.
Maybe I did misjudge him, jump to conclusions. She shook her head. But it was still a one-night stand. And you’re just his lawyer now. Nothing more.
Ryan coughed and both Logan and Melody turned to him.
“I think it might be helpful if you met with Melody now, and she can do the rest of the initial intake for the case, get some hard facts. I’ll leave you two alone.”
Ryan slid the case file across to Melody, and he and Melissa left the room, Melissa casting a longing glance back at Logan. As the door closed behind them, Melody sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. Logan leaned forward, resting his hands on the table.
“It’s good to see you again, Melody.” He smiled, then grew serious. But she noticed the smile never really left his eyes. “But I get the feeling you’re not so happy to see me.”
“Why should I be? You took advantage of me when I was at my lowest…when I was drunk…on that hateful Macallan of yours!” Melody was surprised by the rising pitch of her voice and took a breath, glancing at the closed conference room door, trying to rein in her emotions. She lowered her voice.
“We had a one-night stand, nothing more. And now I’m your attorney. We should put this behind us; for one thing, it’s not going to do any good for your case if anyone knows what happened.”
“Melody, I didn’t take advantage of anything that wasn’t offered. You were there, a bit hazy around the edges, but you were absolutely there with me.”
Logan walked around the table, sitting in the chair next to Melody. Before she could roll her chair away, he grabbed the armrests, turning her to face him. They were close enough that his knees brushed against her legs.
“Listen to me, Melody. What may have been a one-night stand to you was much more than that for me. I meant what I said in my note; I had every intention of calling you, of seeing you again when I came back to New York. But this shite with Ashton exploded during the middle of the band’s tour. It’s taken all of my time and energy to hold the band together long enough to perform each night. It’s been driving me crazy that I haven’t called you.”
Logan reached for her hand and she resisted pulling it back from him. The touch of his fingers on her skin sent a small, and not wholly unwelcomed, tingle through her body.
“Melody, you’re all I’ve thought about since that night. I’ve wanted to call, believe me, I did. But I wanted to see you, to touch you again. I thought whatever it was between us was all too new to trust to just talking over the phone. Maybe I was wrong, but I didn’t know what else to do.”
Melody was watching Logan closely; saw what she hoped—wished, maybe—was sincerity in his face, in his voice. She wanted to believe him, if only because it made her feel less like a fool he took advantage of and more like maybe this could be the beginning of something between them. After the case...
“Logan, this, whatever it was…is…it’s all confusing right now.” She slowly pulled her hand away from his, not missing the hurt look that briefly clouded his gaze.
She took a deep breath. “Let’s concentrate on the case for now, okay? That’s the real reason you’re here, not me.” She picked up her pen, pulling her legal pad closer.
“It’s both.” Logan tilted his head, a slight frown creasing his forehead. “I mean, I did ask for you to represent me. You’re the only one I’d trust with this, and not just because I bedded you once. You have an excellent reputation. Marshall wanted to represent me himself but I insisted it be you.”
Melody tapped her pen on the table, frowning. Ryan had said nothing about Logan’s request. Nothing was making sense today. The only solid thing she had to grasp at the moment was the case, even as nebulous as that was at the moment. She closed her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath, gathering her thoughts.
“Okay. First, let’s get started on the case. That’s here, in front of us, something tangible. We can sort out the rest later.”
Logan smiled. “Later…I like the sound of that.”
Melody had no choice but to smile. Logan was nothing if not charming and charismatic. That she remembered well from their night together. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all, she mused.
She shook her head. Concentrate, Melody. You’re working here, not planning a date.
Logan and Melody spent the next hour going over the details of Ashton’s involvement as Logan’s manager, the relationship between Ashton and the band, and Logan’s solo career. She’d filled several pages of her legal pad with notes before she was satisfied.
Melody finally tossed her pen on the table, sitting back in her chair, looking over the case file.
“I think we have enough to get started. I’ll have Melissa send you a list of documents you’ll need to produce, and we’ll need to contact Ashton’s legal counsel.” She flipped through the file. “Good…we’ve got that information here, I see.” She tossed the file on the table.
She absently rubbed her left hand, easing out the writer’s cramp she always got from gripping her pen. Logan reached out, taking her hand, gently massaging her palm with strong fingers. This time she didn’t pull away…didn’t want to pull away. She closed her eyes, leaning her head against the back of the chair.
His touch on her hand somehow seemed right and it puzzled her. Here, in the bright light of day, after listening to his solemn recital of Jack Ashton’s business dealings, she almost felt closer to him than she had during their night together. You’re supposed to be angry with him, not enjoying this. And you can’t sleep with a client.
She opened her eyes, watching him as she concentrated on her hand. He was still looking down as he spoke, his fingers sliding over her bare ring finger. “Have dinner with me tonight, Melody. No pressure, just to talk. About the case, if you must.”
Logan looked up at her, grinning. “Although I’d rather talk about us, or the weather, or anything else except Jack Ashton…tonight.”
He’d stopped massaging her hand, but still held it, his finger drawing slow circles on her palm. As much as she wanted to still be mad at him, she couldn’t hold her anger at Logan. He was here, in the flesh, apparently sincere and honest in his intentions toward her. And able to kindle a flame inside her with the merest touch of his hand on hers, even here in a boring, staid conference room at work. She sighed.