Page 27 of A Christmas Negotiation

He set his glass and the bottle on the coffee table and began building a fire in the fireplace, crumpling up newspaper, then stacking logs across it and striking a match. She stood and watched him work. “Isabel. As a former Washington, DC, lawyer with a bunch of very high-profile clients, I have to think that you would know better than anyone that what’s in the paper isn’t always the full story. A lot of it has to do with who gets there first.”

“Well, sure. Things get twisted. But they don’t usually take a one-eighty.”

He stood and brushed his hands off on his pants, then pointed to the couch. “Please. Sit.”

She felt like she was in trouble, and just like upstairs when he’d admonished her during negotiations, she found it incredibly sexy. “Yes, sir.” She did as she was told, sinking down into the comfortable cushions. The fire began to crackle and blaze. Between the wine and Jeremy, she never wanted to leave the room.

“Actually, a one-eighty is the perfect way to spin something.” He took a long draw of his wine and Isabel admired his profile in the golden glow of the fire. “It’s a believable story since it’s true, so you simply take whatever you’re guilty of and accuse the other person of it.”

“So if I’m a woman who wants out of my marriage, but I’m worried about how that will be perceived, I tell the press that my husband isn’t the settling-down type, or that he isn’t loving.”

He turned to her, his eyes full of resignation. She’d seen this expression from him before, the look of someone who was hurt and sad, but who had learned to live with it. Isabel hated the idea that anyone would have to live that way, especially a man as extraordinary as Jeremy. “Precisely.”

Isabel took another sip of her wine, her mind still churning. No wonder the things she’d read about Jeremy had seemed so off. “I almost hate to ask this...”

A corner of his mouth shot up in a wry smile. “You don’t hate to ask anything.”

She leaned forward and grasped his forearm. “No. I really don’t want to upset you. Truly. I don’t. You’ve been nothing but gracious in letting me stay here.”

“Go for it. I have no secrets.”

Isabel found herself hoping that was really true. Because every minute with Jeremy was starting to feel like the start of something.

I really don’t want to upset you.Even though Isabel was capable of a good sneak attack, he was sure of what she was about to ask. He’d never spoken about it to anyone. His parents spent their time making themselves the victims by claiming their own embarrassment at the way their son had been dragged through the tabloids. His friends made themselves scarce after the divorce. Nobody wanted to go out to dinner with the guy who was getting snide comments from perfect strangers who’d sided with the socialite. So Jeremy kept it all bottled up inside, another attempt at holding on to his pride.

“I shouldn’t ask,” she said. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“No. Please. Just do it. Let’s put the whole thing to rest. Honestly, it’ll be a relief.”

“Was it all a one-eighty? There was a suggestion that you’d been unfaithful.” She held up a finger. “And before you answer, I want to make it clear that I will not judge you. Everyone has their reasons for doing things.”

Jeremy had every reason in the world to keep a wall up with Isabel, both personal and professional. But the reality of their situation was that they were close to wrapping up negotiations. Their clients would come away happy. As for the personal side, she was so easy to talk to. It had been like that from the moment he’d met her. There was something almost therapeutic about baring his soul to her. “Everything she did to sabotage our marriage, or every unpleasant feeling she had, she put on me. The thing about not being made for commitment, the thing about not being the settling-down type. So yes, there was infidelity, and it was all hers.”

“I’m so sorry. That’s such a terrible betrayal.”

She wasn’t wrong. It had been. But now that it was years later and he couldn’t imagine himself with Kelsey at all, the pain wasn’t quite so persistent. “I didn’t find out about the affair until after she left. I’ve somehow convinced myself that it wasn’t that bad because I didn’t know about it while it was going on. That might be some faulty logic at work.”

“Those are the things we say when we’re trying to protect ourselves. There’s only so much hurt a person can endure.”

“Is there really a maximum? Sometimes life keeps throwing stuff at you, whether you want it or not.”

“I have to ask why you didn’t stand up to her. You had no comment in the article I read. I have a hard time imagining you taking that lying down. A lawyer always fights back.”

“But a lawyer also knows when to quit. Some battles just aren’t worth it. Plus, who wants to get into a fight over love? In the newspapers? Either it’s there between you or it isn’t. You can’t just pull it out of thin air. And it wasn’t like I was going to convince her to come back.”

He watched as she sank farther back against the cushions, wineglass in hand. What kind of pain had she endured? Was that why she sometimes seemed like such a mystery? “Now that I told you my sad story, I want to know if I can ask about the guy who burned you.”

She looked down into the rioja in her glass, swirling it round and round. “Bad timing. It wasn’t all his fault. It was an unfortunate situation.”

“Those are an awful lot of vague details.”

“Okay, then. Here are the specifics. I got pregnant and he panicked. He couldn’t handle it. We’d only been going out about six months and it had been very casual.” She breathed deeply and sighed. “So I did him a favor and I called if off. I already knew that I wanted to have a baby, so I decided I would just deal with it on my own, but then life decided to throw me the cruelest of curveballs when I lost the pregnancy.” Her voice cracked when she uttered those last few words. The room fell impossibly quiet.

“I’m so sorry. That must have been awful.”

“Nobody knows about it. I mean, he must have figured it out when I never had a baby, but it’s not like he ever checked in on me or asked.”

“You never told your brother what happened?”