Dirty Little Secrets: A tempting friends to lovers romance

He nodded.

“Are you sure? Cause I’m Southern, I have to be absolutely certain you want to hear the truth. It’s what passes as manners where I come from.”

“Tell me.”

“I think journalists are vultures. They violate people’s privacy and are more interested in titillation than news. They pretend to be providing a public service but more often than not they are just appealing to the lowest common denominator. I’m glad your father went to prison. It proved that no one is above the law.”

James took a drink of his iced tea and wished he had something stronger. She might look sweet but she had an edge. Perhaps he had underestimated her. “I doubt you’re as happy as I am about his incarceration.”

Megan blinked. She looked around the room, presumably to make sure no one was within earshot. “Is this the part where you tell me all about your integrity? It was all daddy. You didn’t benefit at all from his felonious actions. But oh wait you did. You are now the sole owner of a multibillion dollar corporation. You came out quite well in the deal.”

“Did I? My reputation was in tatters. There are still ignorant people far too eager to tar me with the same brush.”

“I prefer my insults indirect. If you want to call me ignorant, say it,” she challenged. Her tone was sweet, in direct opposition to her message.

“Trust me, if I’d wanted to insult you, you’d know all about it. I don’t think you’re ignorant by the way. Wound a bit too tight, yes. Quite possibly a bitch, but not ignorant.”

She smiled like he had just complimented her. He had indeed underestimated her.

“I’m glad our esteem for each other is mutual.”

“Indeed,” James said as the waiter brought over a basket of bread.

Megan tore off a piece and dipped it in olive oil. “I understand completely if you want to tell the world I’m a bitch. You have my blessing.”

“I’m not going to write an article about you being a bitch. I would never let my personal feelings cloud my professional judgement.”

“Of course you wouldn’t.” The sarcasm penetrated her saccharine smile.

“You really hate journalists.”

“I really hate people that violate trust and take advantage of vulnerable people.”

“Let me get this straight, journalists provide no benefit to society?”

She finished chewing before she answered. “In theory they do, of course. They have the opportunity to inform and enlighten. But in practice they stalk pregnant celebrities and print stories about how fat they’ve become. That’s hardly a public service.”

“I think you are confusing paparazzi with legitimate journalists.”

Megan put down her bread and leaned in. She spoke slowly and softly. Her long lashes kissed her cheeks when she blinked. “Have any of your papers or news stations printed a photograph that was obtained from a paparazzo?” Her gaze was direct, her smile never faltered.

James shifted in his seat. Christ, this is what defendants must feel like under cross examination. She was cold; no wonder she was called the ice queen. She struck him as the type who would do her homework, toil through reams of microfiche just to make a point. And James Emerson did not lie. Ever. “We have.”

“I rest my case.”

“What case is that exactly? I’m kind of like you, I like my insults direct.”

She sat back in her chair. “I think you pretend to have integrity, but you don’t give a rat’s ass about anything beyond the bottom line. You would sell out your granny to get a story. You are more like your father than you admit.”

He ran a hand through his hair. She had gone for the jugular. She was either incredibly lucky in her aim or very astute in her judgements. There were few things he liked less than comparisons to his father, but he refused to be baited. “I give the people what they want.”

“Child pornographers say the same thing.”

“Did you just compare me to a paedophile?”

“Certainly not. I was just taking your argument to its logical conclusion.”

“Unbelievable.” He shook his head. The day had been too fucking long to deal with this. “Look, clearly we have gotten off to a bad start.” It crossed his mind that it may be impossible to get off on the right foot with such a caustic woman. “Perhaps we should reschedule when your husband is available.”

“Perhaps we should,” Megan said through a static smile.

James turned his head to the commotion at the entrance to the restaurant. A waiter was pulling at the arm of a man, trying to stop him from coming into the dining area. The man shook the waiter off and marched towards their table.

“Why don’t you return my calls, bitch?” His eyes bulged and the snake tattoo on his neck pulsated with his heartbeat.

Megan stood up. A look of defiance flashed in her eyes. Her back straightened like she was ready to pounce. “Mr. Dixon, I suggest you turn around and walk out of here before I have you charged with criminal threats and stalking.”

“Listen, you fucking bitch. My wife admitted she lied when she made that statement. The cops wouldn’t let her go until she signed that fucking paper.” He shook his fist in her face.

Megan did not blink; instead she stepped further toward him, standing her ground or taunting him? “I am well aware that Mrs. Dixon has recanted but the jury will have to decide who they believe, an ex con who has already served time for battery and rape, or the doctors, nurses, and police officers that tended Mrs. Dixon after she was brutalised. I know who I would believe.” Her voice did not falter.

A sense of admiration shot through James. Megan was one tough woman; shit, she would make a tough man.

“Fuck you, bitch!” the man said as he lunged at her.

On reflex James stood up and grabbed him. He did not think, he just acted, preventing the man’s punch from landing squarely on Megan’s face. He would give her her due, she flinched but still she did not step away. She was quite possibly the bravest or stupidest person he had ever met. If James had not been there, she would be nursing a black eye but she was completely unfazed. Her pointy chin jetted out in defiance. He had to admit he kind of liked her. She was abrasive as hell but she had a backbone of steel.

James leaned down and said into the man’s ear. “Leave her alone. Or I’ll hurt you.”

“Get the fuck off me. That bitch is crazy. She’s trying to jam me up.” The man struggled against the tight hold but he was going nowhere.

“I am going to let you go but if you even look at her before you walk out of here, I will tear off your balls and shove them down your throat.” To prove he meant business James increased the pressure of his hold until the man was gasping for breath. “Are we clear?” he asked. The man tried to speak but nothing came out. “Are we clear? Nod your head if you understand.” The man’s head wagged up and down like an eager puppy.

“Good,” James said as he released him.

“Nice friends you have,” James said to her when the man was out of the building.

A look of annoyance crossed her face. “I wish you would have let him hit me. I could have had him on a felony assault.” She shook her head.

“Excuse me?” James said incredulously. Who was this woman?

Megan stared into his moss-green eyes. She hadn’t meant to say that aloud. Suddenly she realised what a bitch she was being; so much for maintaining her public persona. She was taking all her frustration out on James because he had the piss-poor luck of being in her firing line. She was having a shit day but she did not have the right to take it out on him. “Sorry. I mean thank you. I really appreciate you doing that. It’s just my case is shot to hell because his wife recanted and he is going to walk. He raped her and shattered her eye socket with a baseball bat, but she has forgiven him so it’s all better now. He bought her flowers so he must be sorry. God, I wish I had something else to charge him with.”

“Shit. I thought I had a bad day.” James shook his head.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have been such a jerk.” She let out a stream of air.

“So you don’t really hate journalists?”