“If I can have your attention,” Andrews says, and hits play.
I watch, and there I am. With Julia. At—checking the timestamp—five-thirty in the morning. Well, that’s something at least. Now I know where I was just before dawn. We’re in the enormous Bellagio fountain, dancing right on the lip of it. Dancing. I kind of want to bang my head on the desk, but lawyerly cool must be maintained at all times. Especially when Julia is making more panicked and “I’m guilty” faces with every passing second.
Now we’re stripping down to . . . okay, nothing. I join her in the fountain, lurching around. Now she’s got her arms around my neck, and we’re kissing. Deeply. Passionately. And my hands are very actively going down her body.
We each snatch glances of the other out of the corner of our eyes. I can’t remember anything about this, and it’s clear she can’t either.
Finally, mercifully, the video ends. Andrews turns to us, his lips pursed in victory. “Would you care to explain, Mr. Wexler? Ms. Stevens?”
“Okay, so—” Julia begins, and I know she’s going to incriminate us hopelessly.
“Is that the only footage you have?” I ask, putting my clasped hands on the table. Business. Professional. Pitcher of iced drinking water. Pretend we’re back in my office on Wacker Drive. Pretend you have tickets to the Bears after legally destroying the man sitting right in front of you.
“Yes,” Andrews says, narrowing his eyes. “What’s your point?”
“There is no way to be certain that those images are of myself and Ms. Stevens. The picture is too grainy. It would be impossible to accurately identify facial features.”
Beside me, Julia’s eyes are bulging and she’s biting her lip. But she starts nodding.
“I can’t tell, honestly. No way to be sure,” she says. Good.
“I’m pretty damn sure,” Andrews says, but he’s looking a little uncertain. “We have footage of you two entering the hotel lobby twenty minutes later. Wet.”
I’m sure he does, but I shrug. “We were at the Mandalay Bay, attending a pool party. I believe we came home sometime close to six.”
“I remember. Definitely around that time,” Julia says. “Pool parties. Vegas, right?”
“Right,” Andrews says, though his face is falling. I’m sure he doesn’t believe it, but again, there’s no way to prove that there was no pool party. And if I call my contact over at Mandalay Bay, he’ll tell them I was there the entire day. No lie is too big for the lawyer who saved him from fifty million in alimony.
“Unfortunate coincidence, isn’t it?” I ask. Now to go in for the kill. “Considering you apprehended myself and Ms. Stevens in front of colleagues and friends, your hotel has done significant harm to our reputations.”
“I may not be able to work again,” Julia says, her voice mournful. She even sniffs and wipes her eyes. Good. A little high school playish, but effective.
Andrews freezes; he knows he could get sued.
“Imagine my children, out on the street, freezing in the winter snow,” Julia moans, laying her head on the table.
Okay. Don’t overplay it.
“You have children?” Andrews asks. I press my foot on top of hers under the table, telling her to play it cool. She responds with a swift kick in the shin, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from shouting.
“Kittens. Three kittens,” Julia sighs. Cat lady. I was right. I usually am.
“The point is, you should let us go. Chalk it up to a misunderstanding. I don’t want to take any kind of action,” I tell Andrews, my voice as cool and smooth as silk. “I would like to spare you from that kind of embarrassment.”
Andrews squares his jaw, and I have a moment where I fear I’ve overplayed my hand. Even I have to acknowledge that arrogance is one of my failings. But instead of pushing it further, he nods once and grunts.
“All right. I’d recommend staying clear of the fountains for a while. Just to be safe.” He looks from Julia to me. We’re both the image of silent cooperation.
With that, Andrews rises up and buttons his coat. Julia sighs, batting her eyelashes. Her eyes are dewy.
I have to admit it—once she stops the larger than life theatrics, she’s a damn good actress.
“Thank you so much,” she sniffles, and we walk out of the room. She even slips her arm through mine, playing up to the idea of being desperately in love. Cute. Once we’re back in the hotel hallway, we pull apart so fast she nearly rips my sleeve.
“Careful. This is Armani,” I snap. Julia yanks me to the side, puts her hands on her hips, and frowns.
“Okay. What the hell happened last night?” she asks. Her face flushes pinker.
Despite all my annoyance, I have to force myself not to notice how sexy she looks when . . . wait. Flushed face. I have a memory of that, a quick one. My expression must change, because Julia notices.