Burn for Me

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Burn for Me Page 5

by Lea Coll


  Emma stopped stretching and focused on me.

  I never talked about my ex-boyfriend. I was too embarrassed. I’d never been that wrong about anything else in my life. “I thought he was the one. We planned to get jobs in the city and move in together. The night we got our bar results, I passed and he didn’t. Greg dumped me. It turned out he wanted to marry a different sort of girl—one who wasn’t so serious about her career—someone who wanted a family, kids, and the white picket fence.”

  I noticed some resentment from Greg when I was chosen for law review, when my article was published, and when I received the highest grade awards in several of my classes. Instead of being the supportive boyfriend, he’d make snide comments. I didn’t want to see it, not until he dumped me. Failing the bar exam just put everything into perspective for him. He didn’t like coming in second to me.

  And my relationship with Logan was competitive. If my last boyfriend couldn’t handle it, how would Logan?

  “You don’t want kids?” Emma asked, genuinely confused.

  I sighed. I’d only known Emma for a short time and she didn’t know my family history “Greg knew how I felt about my mom giving up her career to be a stay-at-home mom. My parents fought about her student loans and she pushed me to be financially independent.”

  I didn’t want to depend on anyone like that. If I wanted to be successful, I needed to focus solely on work. I thought Greg understood that. “You know how it is. You graduate without health insurance and retirement. I was ready for job security and benefits. I planned to work toward a partner position, pay off my student loans, and then think about a family.”

  “You don’t think you can do both—have a family and a career?”

  “Not any time soon.” I didn’t know when would be a good time to pause my career to have kids or if I could even manage both. Whenever I thought about juggling a family and my career, it was overwhelming. I looked down at my watch. “Shit. I’ve got to get home and shower. It’s six-thirty. I’ll never make it in before the partners.” I started to jog away from Emma. “Sorry, I’ll catch you later.”

  Once she waved, I ran faster to my apartment.

  I wanted to keep running to clear my mind—until my ex was no longer a factor in my life, Logan didn’t get under my skin, and I was finally enough. I stopped running and leaned my hands on my legs to catch my breath. That was it. I was never good enough. I was always striving for approval from my parents, teachers, boyfriends, but never getting it. Was it worth it?

  LATER THAT MORNING, I STOOD by Kelli’s desk. She was the secretary I shared with Logan, and I could hear his voice over her earphones while she typed his dictation. Her inbox piled high with my work. She finally pushed the earphone off her ear. “Yes?”

  I gestured toward the pile of files in my inbox in frustration. “I put these files here four days ago and they haven’t moved.” Irritated after running into Logan, telling Emma about my ex, and being late to work—I was off my game.

  She raised her eyebrow at me. “Can’t you type your work?”

  So far, my impression of Kelli was that she didn’t take shit off of any of the attorneys, but I dictated motions and letters to her because it was so much quicker and freed me up to bill more hours on other cases. Now the work had been sitting here so long it was going to be late. “Can’t Logan type his work?”

  “He doesn’t type as fast as you.” She smiled as if it was cute or something.

  I felt my blood begin to boil.

  “I’ll get to it later today if I have time, but I need to finish Logan’s pile and then one of the partners asked me to take notes in a deposition.”

  I sighed. “It shouldn’t matter who types the fastest; you’re supposed to be working for both of us.” I didn’t want to cause trouble but if this continued I would need to talk to the office manager. If the secretary continued to work only on Logan’s files, I would be at a disadvantage. I needed her help to get it done unless I wanted to put in more hours working on secretarial tasks. Plus, the firm can’t bill as much for secretarial work, so it made sense to delegate those tasks to her so I could bill for other tasks.

  “True. But I work for the partners too. I didn’t have time to get to it.”

  I needed to make my expectations for Kelli clear, or she’d do less and less of my work. But right now, I’d need to do it myself to get it done on time. “Fine.” I grabbed my files and headed back to my desk. I wouldn’t be getting home early tonight. It wasn’t fair that Logan could monopolize our secretary because he had poor typing skills.

  Logan stopped by my office later that morning gesturing at the piles of files on my desk. “Wow. You look behind.”

  “This is your fault.” I glared at him.

  “How’s that?” he asked, leaning leisurely on my doorframe with his brow furrowed.

  “Kelli is too busy doing all of your work and doesn’t have time to do mine,” I said gesturing toward her desk which sat outside my office.

  “What? I’m sure that’s not true.” His smile faded as he straightened.

  I sifted through the files, which had dates stamped on the top when I’d given her the work. I tilted one toward him. “I gave these to her four days ago and I can’t wait any longer. I need this done now.”

  “I haven’t had any issues with her.”

  My eyes narrowed on him, remembering how he’d made it a habit to bring her coffee and pastries in the morning and she practically simpered when he did. “I’m sure you haven’t. You butter her up with pastries and coffee and flirt with her.”

  “I’m just nice.”

  The problem was, he was nice, so why was he driving me so crazy? “Your version of nice gets your work done, so why not?”

  “Why do I irritate you so much?”

  I knew it was mostly because when he was nice to me and everyone else, it made him even more attractive to me when I wanted to be immune. “You use your charm to pave your way through life. Like buying your secretary bagels, so she’ll do your work first.”

  “Isn’t the saying, ‘you catch more flies with honey?’”

  I practically growled at him. “Is that your M.O. Logan?” I asked as I stood up and walked around my desk, my eyes trained on his. “I’ve met other Logans in the world before. You put on this show and everyone’s fooled, but I’m not.”

  Logan’s eyes narrowed on me. “I’m not fooled by you, either.”

  He turned to walk out of the room and I stopped him with a hand on his arm. “What are you talking about?”

  The muscles in his arm flexed under my fingers and I could feel the tension rolling off of him in waves. “You’re not so hard to read.”

  This time, I let him walk out. What did he mean? Did he know I liked him? That I was protecting myself by arguing with him? I felt terrible for the way I’d talked to him. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to get myself focused again.

  He’d managed to distract me from work, which was exactly what I was afraid of. I stared at the pile of files on my desk. For now, I just needed to buckle down for a few months until the firm decided which associate would be on a partner-track. When I was chosen, I could use the bonus to pay off a chunk of my student loans. I’d be able to move forward. I shrugged off the voice in my head, which whispered it still wouldn’t be enough. It was never enough.

  THE NEXT MORNING, MY BODY drummed with anticipation of seeing Logan as I headed to campus to run. After our interaction yesterday, I wasn’t sure if he would come or not. I wanted to apologize for how I’d spoken to him, but I couldn’t since Emma was supposed to meet us too. I waited for them to meet me by the track on campus when my phone pinged.

  Emma: Can’t make it—need to prep case for court this am

  Ashley: TRAITOR!

  Emma: Ha! You’ll be fine. Stop resisting his hot bod!

  “Emma coming?” Logan asked over my shoulder, causing me to jump.

  I quickly cleared the phone, so he couldn’t read it, strapped it to my arm, an
d placed the earbuds in. “No, the traitor canceled.”

  “So, it’s just you and me.”

  I was very aware it was just us in the early morning, the grass still wet with dew, the birds chirping. This was a chance to make things right. “Yeah. About yesterday, I’m sorry I went off on you like that. I was angry with Kelli and took it out on you.” I hated to admit when I was wrong, but Logan’s words still rang in my head. What did he mean? Did he think I wasn’t a good person? If so, why did that bother me so much?

  “Don’t worry about it, Cook. That’s how we are. We fight. No hard feelings, right?” He cocked his brow at me.

  “Right.” His easy acceptance of my apology rang hollow. I couldn’t shake the feeling that the conversation had bothered him. His face was carefully guarded and his words too dismissive.

  Logan smiled and the bright blue of his shirt made his twinkling eyes stand out even more. “Are you ready to get started? I don’t want to be late for work today.”

  “Let’s get to it.” I hope I misread him and he accepted my apology. I didn’t like that he was upset with me.

  He confidently ran through a few minutes of quick stretches, straight leg kicks, squats, lunges, high knees, and jumping jacks.

  “Your warm-up routine is a workout by itself.” I tried to catch my breath, impressed by his thoroughness.

  “Warm-up and cool-downs are important. Don’t ever skip. You never want to do static exercises to start.” At my raised brow, he continued, “You don’t want to stretch for thirty seconds or more until you’re done with your workout.”

  His concern felt good. I was so used to handling everything in my life. It was nice to have him lead me in this one thing. “Okay, boss.”

  He stepped into my space, close enough that I could smell the soap he used. “I like that.”

  I rolled my eyes to break up the intimate moment. There were no files or trial table between us, nothing work-related to discuss. It was just his hard body inches from mine. The closer he was to me, the more my body tingled to move closer, to reach up and run my fingers through the hair on his neck. The sensation was so strong I curled my hands into fists to stop myself from acting on it. “Don’t get used to it.”

  He lightly tapped my earpiece. “Don’t ever run with earphones if you’re by yourself. You should be aware of your surroundings.”

  I nodded, not trusting my voice.

  “Are you ready? We’ll start with a five-minute walk to warm up and then a slow jog.”

  I turned on the music so that I could block out his presence. When he was around, I was hyperaware of his movements, his smell, his deep voice—those damn dimples. I didn’t want to be attracted to Logan. Any kind of relationship would complicate things and be a huge distraction from my goals.

  I took off at a fast pace trying to run off my frustration.

  “Slow down. You’re going to burn yourself out.”

  “I’m awful at pacing myself. I always start out too fast.” It was probably why I never stuck with an exercise program.

  “Don’t worry. Stick with me and I’ll train you to run at a good pace. We should pick a timed goal for you to make.”

  “Okay.” He was speaking my language. I loved making plans and goals.

  “Let’s see how you do the next few weeks and then we’ll have a better idea of what a good time for you would be.”

  “Are there winners in this race?” I hadn’t paid attention if anyone from the firm mentioned that. I was too overwhelmed by the thought of running.

  “Of course.” He smirked.

  “Is everything a competition with you?”

  “Yes, and you like it.”

  I didn’t respond because I did like it. But my last relationship was competitive too, and that didn’t work out. We’d run far enough that I was out of breath. I had no idea how far he planned to run today, but I wanted to keep up with him. My desire to best him at everything hadn’t dwindled as I got to know him. “Are you running slower because of me?”

  “Yes. I want to set a slower pace to start for you, so you aren’t too sore tomorrow. If you start a new exercise program too intensely, you could injure yourself and not want to continue.” Then he turned and winked at me. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll run a few miles after you stop.”

  I didn’t want to get out of bed this morning, but now I felt pretty good. I wasn’t sure if it was the run or Logan. I liked how seriously he was taking “my training,” and I liked his worry and concern that I not injure myself. It showed me a new side to him, or maybe he was always like this but I’d never taken the chance to know him.

  When we reached the track, he slowed to jogging in place and glanced at his GPS watch. “That was ten minutes. When you start training, it’s a good idea to do timed sessions versus worrying about mileage. I’m going to keep going, but this is a good place for you to stop. You don’t want to overdo it.”

  I stopped, breathing heavily, with my hands on my hips. I appreciated that he was giving me an out and not making it a competition yet.

  “Make sure you hold each stretch for at least thirty seconds and do a proper cool down.” Then he smiled. “Holler if you need any help stretching.”

  Imagining his hands on my body caused an ache in my core and my heart to race even more. I waved him on so he wouldn’t see the desire written on my face. “See you at work.” I really wanted to take him up on his offer as I watched him jog toward the track, his shorts stretched taut over his ass. I went through stretches as he continued to run. His compression shirt was so tight to his body I could almost make out a six-pack. The fact that he took care of his body was attractive, but it was the last thing I needed—more reasons to be drawn to him. I shouldn’t be looking or thinking about what his body looked like under his clothes.

  I was surprised he hadn’t taunted me on the run. If he had, it would be easier to keep up our usual sparring and sharp words. Instead, he’d shown me a new side. One that was sweet and caring. I shook my head and walked back to my apartment to get ready for work. That’s what I needed to focus on, not Logan’s abs or whether he was going soft on me.

  At the office later that morning, I felt great from the combination of the exercise-induced running, sparring with Logan, and caffeine. Exercise helped me focus better on work. I’d researched and written a motion for summary judgment and dictated letters to the client on several files and it was only eleven.

  “You have a minute?” Richard asked. “I need to talk to you about something.”

  Nervous that a partner needed to talk to me, I gestured to the chair in front of my desk. “Sure.”

  “It’s come to my attention that you’re not exactly ‘warm and fuzzy’ with the clients.”

  “What?” I racked my brain trying to remember who was in court with me or would have overheard me talking to clients. It could have been anyone, an attorney with our firm, another firm, the client. I handled a few family law cases, which consisted of disgruntled people who fought over who would get the lamp in a divorce—a stark contrast to criminal clients who didn’t want to go jail. I struggled to keep the focus on the big-ticket items: custody of the children, the house, and finalizing the divorce before all of the money was spent on legal fees.

  “Don’t forget, clients pay our bills. If they want to pay us to fight over the television, then that’s what we’ll do. If they want to drag out their divorce, it’s more money for the firm. If you want to be a partner here, remember money is the bottom line.” His face was stern and I felt chastised, which was not something that had happened to me at work previously.

  He rose before he finished speaking, giving me no time for questions or explanations. Leaving a steady government job for the promise of more experience, better pay, and the possibility of promotion seemed like a good idea before the job became a competition. I’d been so confident that this position was the ticket to my future. But what would I do if it didn’t work out? Would I be able to return to my old job? It wouldn’t look g
ood to send out resumes when I’d just started here, but this was a unique situation. Our jobs weren’t secure.

  “What was that about?” Logan said from my doorway.

  My mouth dropped open. “How did you—”

  “I heard Richard talking to you through the wall.” He tilted his head toward our shared wall. “But don’t worry, I didn’t hear what he said.”

  “Good to know.” It was not a good idea to tell him I’d been reprimanded by the managing partner. “Nothing. Just wanted to talk about a case I was handling for him.”

  “Really? So everything’s okay?”

  He sounded genuine, which was not us. We exchanged barbs and challenges, but we were not there for each other, especially at work. Not when only one of us would be picked for the partner position. “Yup.” I avoided his eyes.

  “Good. Wouldn’t want you eliminated from the competition so early.” One side of his mouth slid up and his eyes were sparkling,

  “Not going to happen.” And just like that, we were back. This, I could handle—him challenging me and me accepting it.

  “MS. MCCLELLAN’S IN COURT WONDERING where you are,” Kelli said, coming into my office later that afternoon.

  A knot formed in my stomach. They were words every trial attorney dreaded. “What?” I asked, my voice high and hands shaking as I checked my calendar. “That case was postponed.” I grabbed the new family law case that had recently taken up permanent real estate on the corner of my desk. The client called me to report on every visitation exchange, which occurred four times weekly. I was quickly turning into their family therapist. I talked to her so frequently I was sure we’d discussed the postponement request.

  “Didn’t you call her off?”

  I didn’t like Kelli’s tone but I needed to deal with the client on the phone first. Grabbing the file, I said, “I’ll talk to her. Thanks.”

  Flipping quickly through the file, there was no letter advising the client of the postponed date, but there was an incomplete work order for Kelli to prepare and send one out. I wasn’t happy, but I needed to smooth it over with my client first.

 

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