Waking Up to You Overexposed - By Leslie Kelly Page 0,59

wine community was a small one. She was not at all surprised rumors were already being bandied around. Considering these growers and vintners were also wine drinkers, she would bet most of them would be attending the auction once it was set and advertised.

But not wanting to reveal too much, she merely shrugged and pasted on a vapid smile. “I don’t know about that. Actually, I’m afraid I don’t know anything about wine at all,” she said, forcing a giggle. “Just that I like to drink it!”

“Oh, yes, of course.” He patted her hand, condescension dripping from him, and wished her a nice evening.

As they walked away, she heard Oliver’s deep chuckle. “Well played.”

“Hey, no point in getting the vultures circling until Grandpa gets home and decides what he wants to do. If word spreads too much, we’re going to have to start locking the door to the house.”

“Buddy would never stand for that.”

As they walked across the already-crowded room, Candace looked around, noting the decorations. Vines that looked quite real climbed and wove around some freestanding arbors, while beneath couples danced and chatted. The softly lit chandeliers cast a gentle glow over the well-dressed attendees, and laughter and wine were in abundance.

Oliver smiled pleasantly at several people who said hello. Although he wasn’t technically one of them, he’d apparently met and impressed Buddy’s colleagues and neighbors. In fact, one of them, a beautifully gowned, attractive woman in her fifties, approached them before they got halfway across the room.

She leaned in close to Oliver, not looking like the typical partygoer interested in exchanging gossip and feigning ennui. “You’re Mr. McKean, aren’t you?”

He nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry, have we met?”

“I’m Doris Gladstone.” She stuck out her hand. “I work with Ben Harmon.”

He dropped her hand. “Oh.”

“Hear me out.”

“I’d rather not.”

This was getting more and more interesting. Oliver obviously knew who this Ben Harmon was, and didn’t want to talk to his associate.

Candace stepped the tiniest bit closer, wishing the nearby string quartet would quiet down so she could eavesdrop more easily.

“Look, I know the whole story,” the woman said. “Everybody knows. You might have made some enemies in the southern part of this state, but I promise you, everywhere else, people are well aware that you did the right thing and got royally screwed for it.”

The truth dawned. Oliver hadn’t said anything about his past following him up here. But it obviously had. Hearing the way the woman was speaking, it wasn’t hard to gauge her respect for him, nor her interest in engaging him in shoptalk. Since Oliver almost never talked about his old life, she found herself intensely curious, wondering what he’d been like in that other world. Had he been as sexy, as thoughtful, as sweet? Had he exhibited flashes of that sardonic wit? Had he been a wildly erotic lover to lots of women?

She swallowed, not wanting to consider that. Knowing how fast-paced life in Los Angeles could be, and how shallow some of the wealthy set was, she had to wonder if he’d ever been the flavor of the week for some socialite who’d heard about the rising hotshot of the D.A.’s office.

“Ben is still dying for you to come in and talk to us. It’s a small practice, with just the office in Napa, but we’re both horribly overworked and we think you’d be a great fit.”

Tension poured off him, and his hand tightened on Candace’s waist. She imagined he didn’t even realize it.

“I don’t do that anymore.”

“You don’t prosecute,” the older woman said. “But come on, you wouldn’t have made it in the L.A. district attorney’s office for four years, much less with a nearly perfect conviction record, if criminal law wasn’t in your blood.”

His jaw was growing stiffer, his hand tighter, and Candace feared this Doris Gladstone person was pushing too hard. She wanted Oliver to think about what the woman was saying, but, like most men, he wouldn’t want to be forced into it.

She caught the other woman’s eye and narrowed her eyes, warning her off with a small, negative shake of the head.

The attractive blonde got the message. Smiling brightly, she said, “Well, anyway, I won’t bother you and your lovely friend. I just wanted to reiterate what Ben told you. We’d love to talk to you.” Ignoring his silence, she reached into her purse and drew out a business card. She held it out and for a moment, Oliver just stared at it. When Candace nudged him, though, and he