DISCOVERY (Esquire Black Duet Book 1)

by Hayley Faiman

  Thanks. But no thanks.

  I let out a bark of laughter as the red in my vision clears, I toss the note across my desk. Little Brooklyn Myers is a spit-fire and a fucking challenge, just like I knew she would be.

  “Game on,” I whisper to myself. “Game-fucking-on.”

  I don’t remember the last time I set out on wooing a woman. Do people still do that anymore? I thought dating was more like swiping one way or the other on an app, then fucking after pizza and watching Netflix.

  I’ve been out of the game for a long time, spending my time fucking former clients. Though sometimes I find barfly one-night stands. I obviously don’t even know what the fuck is going on in the world of dating.

  Picking up my phone, I call my brother, Dillon. My oldest brother, Seth, is married with two kids. The last time he went on a date was high school. Dillon is single. He’ll know what women like these days.

  “Hey, fucker, what’s up?” he asks.

  “Where are you?” I ask on a sigh, hearing traffic in the background.

  He grunts before he speaks. “They got me working on the trucks today. Fuck me, I thought this shit was for boots only.”

  I chuckle, imagining my brother, a fucking sergeant in the Marines, being forced to do the work of the men below him. That would be like me filing court docs at the courthouse. Un-fucking-heard of. I wouldn’t stand for it and I’m surprised he is, although Dillon is a bit more mild-mannered than I am.

  “Got a question for you.”

  “Hit me, Smart Guy.”

  He’s always called me that, even when we were kids. Smart Guy, like he’s not just as smart, if not smarter. All of us kids are intelligent, we simply apply our brains to different aspects of life. I chose law school and have thrived. My brothers chose different fields, and they too fucking dominate.

  Clearing my throat, I speak, “Got a woman, sent her flowers and candy. She sent the flowers back; refused a date.”

  My brother’s loud boom of laughter fills my ears, and I grind my teeth together at the sound.

  “I’m sorry, I’m just seeing the picture in my head. My shit-hot, lawyer brother, getting turned down. Please God, tell me you were driving that pretentious Ferrari of yours.”

  “Fuck you,” I grumble.

  He laughs a little harder, and I silently wait for him to finish. “Sorry, it’s hilarious. When was the last time a woman turned you down?” he asks.

  “Suzie Johnson, high school, freshman ice breaker dance,” I admit. I’m unable to stop myself from grinning at the memory. “You know I fucked her at the backward dance a couple months later, right? Her date was a douche.”

  “You’re such an asshole. She was hot, though,” he murmurs. “Look, just be a fucking nice guy. I don’t know what to tell you. Ask her out, be nice, don’t act like the player you are. Basically, don’t act like yourself.”

  “Easy for you to say, you wear that uniform and bitches start panting,” I point out.

  He chuckles low. “Yeah, but none of them are worth a second night. I have a feeling, you calling me for advice, she’s worth a second round.”

  I think about his words and close my eyes. Is she? I don’t know. I do know I’ve never had a woman turn me down once, then reject me a second time. Not ever. That shit pisses me off. I win—that’s what I do. I do not lose. If she won’t go out with me, that’s not winning. I can’t have that. I refuse.

  “Drop the ego, Lucas, and just be the guy I know you are beneath the persona.”

  We talk for a few more minutes about his daughter and his bitch ex-wife, then we end our call. Drop the persona? I don’t know if that’s possible. At this point, I think it’s just part of who I am.

  I do know that if I want her, I can’t be the man she thinks me to be. Can I be myself for a chance at tagging her sweet ass and all the promise of her?

  Fuck, yeah, I can.

  Chapter Four

  LUCAS

  Sitting behind my black stained wooden desk, I tap my pen against the blank legal pad of paper in front of me. Wooing Brooklyn is harder than I imagined. Chocolate and flowers didn’t work. I assumed all women liked that kind of thing.

  I have a feeling sending more gifts would just mean she’d send more shit back to me. As much as Peg loves her new bouquet of flowers, I didn’t buy them for her—I bought them for Brooklyn, regardless of the fact that Peg picked them out.

  Letting out a breath, I swivel my leather chair toward my computer screen. I’m an attorney, research is in my blood. I just need to figure out what it will take to get her in my bed. Pulling up the search engine, I decide to do some research.

  With a sigh, I immediately think about her eyes, her tits, her ass and my cock starts to harden, pressing against the zipper in my slacks. Christ. This woman is going to be the death of me if I don’t get to sink inside of her soon.

  I haven’t jacked off this much since I was a fucking teenager.

  Opening my eyes, I cringe as I begin to type: best way to get a date. Fuck me, I’m a goddamn tool. I delete the words as fast as I can. Scrubbing my hand over my face, I then pick up the phone and call an intern to my office.

  “Yes, Mr. Black?” the intern asks a few minutes later, standing in front of me.

  He’s younger, in his mid-twenties, and a good-looking kid. I’m instantly jealous that I’ll be sending him to her office. I’m regretting my decision almost immediately.

  With a snort, I decide he’d have no clue what to do with Brooklyn, so it’s ultimately fine. Plus, if he even attempted a damn thing, he’d be out on his ass so fast his fucking head would spin.

  “Need you to get a breakfast muffin and a sweet coffee, of some kind. Deliver it to a Brooklyn Myers at the D.A.’s office.”

  He blinks once, slowly, before he lifts his lips in a grin. “Muffin and a coffee,” he mutters.

  “I’m going to give you a note to go with it. You read it, you’re fired,” I grunt, knowing it’s going to take a serious hit to my cred as a player.

  He tries to hide the grin that turns into a big ass smile. Little prick. Pressing my pen to the legal pad, I quickly write the note, folding it and stuffing it into an envelope before I lick the glue and press it closed.

  “Chocolate muffin, if they have it,” I instruct, handing him the note.

  “Chocolate,” he affirms with a nod.

  Lifting my brow, I watch and wait for him to hurry on his way. He grins, again, before he turns around and scurries off. Fuck me, I hope this works. If it doesn’t, I’ll have to come up with something else.

  Honest to fuck, I’m obviously not creative enough to do that. Maybe she’ll take pity on me and give in to my attempted advances?

  “Mr. Black, Mrs. Dunning is here to speak with you,” Peg announces.

  I scowl in confusion. She’s not scheduled to meet with me today. Unfortunately, I have a fairly clear morning before my afternoon meetings. But there is no way in hell I feel like talking to Meredith Dunning. This bitch is grating on my last fucking nerve.

  “Send her in,” I sigh. Peg clucks an okay before hanging up.

  I can tell Peg is pissed. She dislikes people showing up without an appointment even more than I do. Screws with her routine and Peg craves routine. I understand it. I crave control and routine, together, so it fucks with my day as well, having the potential to put me in a shit mood.

  Meredith Dunning saunters into my office looking like she’s about to go on a dinner-date at a five-star restaurant. Her white dress is skin-tight, barely containing her overly large breasts, and her hair is twisted up on her head.

  Her makeup is caked on, and she’s dripping in diamonds, no doubt gifts from her husband over the years. I don’t bother saying a word. She looks fit to be tied, so I just wait for her to start ranting.

  “That little fucking cunt,” she screeches.

  Pressing my lips together, I hope she isn’t talking about Brooklyn. I really fucking hope she isn’t—but I have a feeling she is.

 
; “You know she’s combing through our medical records? Just last night, I was informed that I have to have a goddamn psychological evaluation done. What in the fuck?”

  Clearing my throat, I keep my face impassive and my voice even. “You’re going to have to sit and calm down, Mrs. Dunning.”

  “I will not calm down. That little bitch in her Target special outfit is not going to evaluate shit about me. I have more money than she can ever imagine. Fuck her,” she seethes.

  Standing, I place my fists on the desk and lean over slightly. My eyes are focused on hers, my voice low and even, yet lethal. I’m going to make a point, and I want her ass to get it.

  “Miss Myers gives not one fuck how much money your husband has. Her sole purpose is to ensure that your fucking son is in a decent environment.

  “You, Mrs. Dunning, brought this shit on yourself. You accused Curtis of abuse in a greedy attempt to get money from him because you spread your legs for other men. You knew goddamn well that if he found out, he’d divorce your ass and you’d get zilch.

  “Now you’re using your kid for monetary gain. You aren’t allowed to be pissed that she’s investigating both of your allegations. So, take your fancy ass out of my office, hop in your car, and go home. The next time we’re scheduled for a meeting, this bullshit attitude better be adjusted.”

  Meredith’s body jerks slightly, then I watch as a sly grin appears on her lips. I suppress the growl in my throat as she makes her way around my desk to stand at my side.

  I straighten, but otherwise stay unmoving. Her hand presses against my chest, and my eyes flick down to it before returning to hers.

  “When you talk like that, it makes me so wet, Lucas. Want to feel how wet I am? Since I’ve been such a bad girl, will you spank me?” she whispers breathlessly.

  Normally, that kind of talk would tempt me and turn me on, all at the same time. I love restraints and spankings during a good fuck, but that won’t happen with this bitch—not now, not ever.

  “Go,” I grind out.

  Her hand slides up to wrap around the side of my neck, and her lips almost touch mine as she rises to the balls of her feet.

  “You can fuck me any way you want me, Lucas. My ass, my pussy, my mouth. It’s yours. Think about it. I doubt Little Miss Target is going to make such an offer.”

  She doesn’t say anything else before she releases me, turns on her heels, and shifts her hips from side to side as she exits my space. I watch her go, and my dick doesn’t even twitch.

  Chuckling, I shake my head, she thinks offering me her ass is some kind of special thing. Like I’ve never fucked some skank bitch’s ass before?

  Like I won’t have Brooklyn’s?

  I will.

  Before I’m finished with her, I’ll have ownership of every single inch of her lush body. Meredith Dunning and her offer can go fuck itself. The only woman I desire right now is Brooklyn.

  I’ve never had the downright need to have a woman like I do her. I know it’s probably just because she’s rejected me. Doesn’t matter. Whatever the reason I want her so badly, I don’t care, I just want her.

  “Lucas,” Peg murmurs from my opened office door. I look up and lift my chin. “That woman is a bitch,” she announces. I can’t stop myself. I fall back in my chair and burst out laughing.

  “No shit, Peg,” I say through my laughter.

  Peg’s no-nonsense eyes catch mine, but she’s not smiling. “I have a bad feeling about her. Miss Myers looks like a sweet girl. Don’t let that snake bite her,” she states before she turns and walks back to her desk.

  No, Meredith’s venom won’t sink into Brooklyn’s bloodstream—not if I have anything to say about it.

  BROOKLYN

  Looking at the younger guy who just set a white bag and a coffee on my desk, I blink. He has a shit-eating grin on his face, and I’m not sure why or who he even is. He shoves his hand in his pocket and sets an envelope down in front of me before he rocks back on his heels, not walking away.

  “What is this?” I ask warily.

  His grin turns into a full-fledged, all teeth, wide, white smile. “Lucas Black wanted me to deliver a chocolate muffin, a sweet coffee, and this note directly to you, Miss Brooklyn Myers,” he states.

  I blink—again. I literally do not know what to say. Coffee and a muffin is kind of—sweet. I didn’t picture Lucas ever being even slightly sweet. I mean, the flowers and chocolates were nice, but those are men’s go-to’s and require little to no thought.

  This.

  This is different.

  “He told me I’d lose my internship if I read the note,” the guy explains, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he attempts to keep from smiling.

  My eyes shift to the envelope, and I slowly pick it up. The handwriting on the outside is different from the card in the flowers. I run my finger over it, feeling the marks his pen made as he pressed it against the paper.

  “I watched him write it himself,” the intern states.

  My eyes widen, and I slip my finger beneath the flap, gently tearing it open. There’s a piece of yellow lined legal paper folded inside, and I almost giggle.

  I can picture him bent over his desk, writing it just a few minutes ago. I gently unfold it and let my eyes take in the small uppercase writing that is so masculine, and so—him.

  BROOKLYN –

  I’VE NEVER HAD FLOWERS REJECTED BEFORE. THAT’S NEW. HOPE YOU ENJOY THE MUFFIN AND COFFEE. IF YOU SEND IT BACK, I WON’T EAT IT AND IT WILL JUST GO TO WASTE. DO ME A FAVOR, DON’T KILL THE MESSENGER. HE’S JUST AN INTERN. HE HASN’T EVEN TAKEN HIS FINAL TESTING YET.

  L. BLACK

  A smile plays on my lips as I read over his note. Looking up at the intern, I thank him and ask him to hold on for a moment. I have a little note of my own to write. Pulling out my legal pad, I press my pen to the paper.

  Mr. Black –

  Thank you for the muffin and coffee. It was very thoughtful of you. I’ll be eating it because I missed my breakfast smoothie this morning. Your intern is safe with me—for now.

  Miss Myers

  I slip the note inside of my own envelope and lick the glue before I write, Mr. Black, on the outside and hand it back to the intern.

  “What’s your name?” I ask him.

  “Xavier,” he murmurs, slipping the envelope in his pocket.

  “Thank you, Xavier,” I smile.

  He’s cute, around my age, and if Lucas weren’t taking up all of my brain space, maybe I could conjure up some flirting with him. I can’t, though—all I can think about, stupidly, is Lucas.

  He salutes me with two fingers before he turns and practically jogs out of the building. Picking up the coffee, I take a sip. Holy shit, it’s delicious. There’s a hint of caramel and a little chocolate. Taking a bite of the muffin next, I moan. If nothing else, the man knows where to get a fantastic muffin and coffee.

  “What’s got the smile on your face?” Kay asks.

  Shaking my head, I shrug without giving her an answer. She doesn’t dally at my desk. I watch her walk away and feel bad about not telling her what was making me smile.

  To be honest, I didn’t want to make a big deal about the coffee and muffin. I didn’t want it to be analyzed or turned into anything else.

  It’s not like I’m going to let anything come of it. I can’t. There is no way I can put myself out there for him. He’d tear me apart in about five seconds. But it’s nice to have a man think of me. It’s been so long since I’ve even been asked out, let alone been on the receiving end of gestures like he’s given the past few days.

  I’m going to relish it for a little while before I have to be bitchy to him again and make sure he understands that nothing is going to happen. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and run them back and forth.

  Glancing at the clock, I wonder when exactly he’ll open my note. I wonder if his pretty green eyes will become angry that I’ve addressed it to Mr. Black instead of Lucas? Or if they’ll alight with humor. I shouldn’
t wonder any of this, or imagine him sitting behind some big, dark, desk that’s probably as sexy as he is, in some fancy as shit office.

  Damn. I want him.

  I need to get laid, but it needs to be by someone who will not chew me up and spit me out or my creepy boss. I need to find a nice guy to date, is what I need to do—a safe guy.

  Maybe I’ll try to strut my stuff in front of my neighbor again this weekend. Although, I’m not sure how much more I can embarrass myself before it just becomes pathetic and sad.

  I don’t hear anything else from Lucas for the rest of the day, and that’s perfectly fine with me. This case is slowly coming together as I spend the entire afternoon combing through the Dunning’s medical files.

  It was like pulling teeth to get the doctors’ offices to comply with the subpoena. They acted as though they had a choice, and all five of them—yes, five—bitched and moaned. I didn’t realize it was possible to even have five medical doctors for just one person.

  Once I’m able to leave my office and I’m on my way home, all I can think about is sleep. As soon as I put my crappy car in park, I set an alarm for an early morning yoga class, because it’s not happening tonight.

  I practically roll out of my car and slowly, somehow, make my way up to my front porch. There’s a bouquet of flowers wrapped in plastic leaning up against my front door.

  Rolling my eyes, I bend down and snatch it up.

  He seriously bought me flowers and delivered them to my condo? I think to myself as I unlock the door and walk inside.

  Once I lock the front door behind me, I make my way into the kitchen and press my hand against my stomach as it rumbles. The last thing I ate was the muffin that Lucas sent me this morning. Too bad he sent me flowers tonight instead of takeout. I wouldn’t turn down a big ass burrito right now, or a pizza.