Take Me to Court

by Skylar Platt

  TAKE ME TO COURT

  Porter Sisters Series Book 2

  By Skylar Platt

  TAKE ME TO COURT

  Porter Sisters Series Book 2

  By Skylar Platt

  Copyright © 2019 by Skylar Platt

  This book is a work of fiction. All characters and events in this book are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted without written permission from the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Design by Romance Book Cover Designs https://romancebookcoverdesigns.com

  For more about this author go to www.skylarplattauthor.com

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  CHAPTER ONE

  NATALIE

  “Anyone have a ticket to sell?”

  I had almost forgotten that my sister, Olivia, had a ticket she purchased for her daughter who had decided not to join us. I nudged her, but she wasn’t paying attention. Too busy discussing the latest season of The Crown with our other “sister” Meredith. Then I looked at the body attached to the voice.

  “I do!” I squinted against the bright sun, shielding my eyes with my hand as I drank in the man approaching me. Thick dark hair streaked generously with gray, short-trimmed dark beard also streaked gray around the chin. Green eyes that warmed with the megawatt smile he tossed my way as he trotted over to me. Long legs stuffed into well-worn jeans, dark t-shirt that fell just short of masking the muscled chest and biceps. A tattoo peaked out from one sleeve and traveled across his bicep and down the underside of his forearm.

  “Is it for you?” I smiled at him.

  “My dumbass brother who though he'd be able to just show up and get one.” The voice rumbled deep and thick from down low within him. “Pardon my language,” he added.

  “Turns out he was right,” I winked. Olivia and Meredith were paying attention now.

  He laughed. “How much?”

  “Face value is fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah...maybe you can buy me a beer too,” I said, never shy about asking for what I wanted. Of course, it had landed me a lot of one-night stands and two very empty marriages.

  His smile reached those eyes again. “Deal.”

  He handed me $50 cash. I watched him walk across the parking lot toward the back of the line where he was greeted by a shorter, younger version of himself and three women, all skin and legs and hair, much younger than myself, and him. One of the women slid her arm around his waist, under his shirt. He did not return the gesture, nonetheless, I figured my moment with him had passed.

  Olivia, Meredith and I all watched wistfully as he strolled across the parking lot and looked at each other, hopes dashed when he reached his destination. “Jerk,” we said in unison and returned to our conversation with each other.

  This was my sister’s band. Country music not necessarily my thing, although I have to admit Teddy Abbott’s voice shoots straight to the heart, and other areas of the body, and once he hit the stage, I realized why he had been her celebrity crush in recent years.

  “What kind of beer do you like,” I felt his breath on my neck, and the slightest hint of his beard. He was going to make good on that promise. Who was I to say no?

  “You buy, I'll go get it,” I said.

  He looked at me.

  “I just met you. I don’t even know your name.”

  He nodded understanding, but did not offer his name.

  “Sad day and age we live in, but...” I added.

  He handed over a 20 and made his beer request. "How do I know I can trust you?" He said with a smile.

  “You don't,” I bounced away.

  I returned with two beers, but pulled his away when he reached for it.

  “Name?”

  He laughed that easy laugh again. “Joel.”

  “Where are your dates?” I asked with emphasis on the pluralization of the word. No sooner had I said it than the group of young girls and his brother slid in behind us. Close up the girls appeared only marginally older than they had looked from afar in the parking lot, meaning that at least up close I could tell they were indeed old enough to be in the bar. Still, I was nearly old enough to have given birth to them. I couldn’t hold back my scowl.

  “Not my dates,” he said. “My niece, her friend and my brother’s date. I am chaperoning.”

  I raised my eyebrows and chuckled at that.

  “Well, long story, loads of family drama. The gist of it is, my niece,” he motioned toward the leggy dark-haired girl. “She was recently involved with a not-so great guy and there was some concern she might be meeting him here and, well, Justin and I are here to run interference as needed.”

  I nodded. Carrying on this conversation had required shouting and eventually very close mouth to ear contact, which I was in no way trying to discourage. Feeling the heat of his breath against my skin was ridiculously exciting. He was crazy gorgeous and his looks had not gone unnoticed by a number of the women in the room. Receiving male attention had never been a problem for me, keeping it for longer than a one-night stand, or a lengthier version of such, was my issue.

  This man was not a hook-up. He had this air of calm strength about him. His dark green eyes were warm and the smile genuine. If he was talking to you it was because he wanted to.

  I held off a bit before agreeing to the second beer, which he decided to join me to retrieve. He pressed up against me from behind at the bar as we both tried to attract the attention of a bar tender. I relished in the feel of his strong body pressed against me and let myself lean, just slightly, back into him. My hand drifted back and grazed his outer thigh. Before I could pull it away, his fingers found mine and then trailed up my arm, resting on my shoulder. I let a little smile find its way to my lips.

  I just about dropped my beer when we got back to our spot and I saw Olivia taking a selfie with Teddy Abbott!

  “What is that all about?” I asked Meredith.

  “She had a song request,” Meredith just grinned and shrugged her shoulders.

  I let out a loud “Whoop!” I was proud of her. That is not a move I would have expected from Olivia. Myself, in a heartbeat, but my way too sweet and insecure older sis, no way.

  Joel reassumed the proximity to me he had found at the bar. We danced pressed against each other. Our fingers tangled together and he kissed the top of my head. I melted back into him as deeply as I could and found myself so disappointed when the lights came up signaling the true end of the show.

  “We’re going backstage!” Olivia squealed sporting a grin a mile wide. “Come on.”

  I glanced at Joel and tugged him and his clan along with us. But he stopped before we headed into the backstage area.

  “We have to hit the road,” he said reluctantly. “I have to work tomorrow so we are driving back to the city tonight.”

  I actually stuck my bottom lip out, which made him laugh out loud. “Party pooper.”

  “Not the first, or I’m sure the last, time I’ve heard that,” he laughed again. “Thank you for a very fun evening.”

  We stared at each other for several beats too long.

  “The city? D.C.?” I asked trying to keep him for just a few more seconds.

  He nodded.

  “So what is it that you do in DC?” He hesitated too long. I raised my eyebrows. "That much hesitation must mean you are a politician."

  “Nope, the other profession people love to hate unles
s they need one.”

  “Lawyer,” I laughed.

  He nodded, reached into his pocket and handed me his business card.

  "What kind?" I wondered. "In this setting you don't exactly fit the mold, the big tattoo and everything. Although a dress shirt covers that up."

  He nodded again. "The tattoo and the job are actually connected in a way," he grinned, daring me to figure it out.

  Emboldened, I lifted the sleeve of his t-shirt up to better investigate the tattoo. Mountains, a waterfall and stream, trees, feathers, flowers, Native American symbols. I allowed my fingers to touch the waterfall-turned-river from his bicep across his inner forearm.

  “Environmental law,” I looked at him. “And based on the tattoo, I'd say you are on the side I approve of.”

  His jaw had dropped.

  “Holy shit, you're good.”

  I winked at him. “Yes, I am.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  NATALIE

  First, I looked up his law firm and I admit I was surprised to find it to be his practice and not a family affair. Then I Googled his name but was not greeted with a photo of his dark green eyes and mop of dark waves, but instead an attractive gentleman with closely cropped silver hair and a set of hazel eyes that radiated the same warmth as his eldest son’s. Joel Anderson Sr., was the managing partner of the largest corporate law firm in D.C. He had made millions rescuing big businesses from any mess they found themselves in, even if they deserved the mess, and often at the expense of the so-called little guy.

  I guess someone has to do it I said to myself. But score some points for Junior for going his own way. I wondered if there was bad blood between the two because of it. I noticed his younger brother Justin was listed as staff attorney, but not a partner. Hmmm.

  I stared down at the card in my hand. It was all he had given me. All he had offered as a way to get in touch. There was no cell number and he had not asked for mine. Had I misread the signals? We touched, danced, he kissed my head. I’d felt his lips against my ear when we talked during the concert. The heat of his breath had sent shivers up and down my spine and down into my core.

  I’ve been asked for my number after much less interaction and a much shallower connection. I’m honestly not used to this. Men ask for my number, we go out, I get a nice dinner and they get sex. Sometimes we even have a few dates.

  Joel would not be a casual hookup. I could just sense that is not his style. Or, maybe there is someone else and he is worse than I thought for flirting with me the way that he did while his significant other is hours away. A knot twisted in my stomach at that thought, as I have been that woman sitting at home before.

  Well, this was not getting me anywhere.

  I dialed Olivia’s number again. And again it rang, giving me the little blip after each ring signaling she was on the phone with someone else.

  She hates talking on the phone, so who in the hell is she talking to for over an hour. In my increasing annoyance I sent a text and called back quickly twice in a row.

  “Who are you talking to? I’ve been trying to call for an hour!” I barked into the phone when she finally called back.

  “Teddy,” she said simply.

  “Who is Teddy? Oh my God! Teddy Abbott! You were on the phone with Teddy Abbott!”

  “Yep,” she said offering me nothing more. “What’s up? Are you OK?”

  “I’m fine. I’m just going a little nutso here and I need you to tell me what to do.”

  “About what?”

  “Well, you remember the gorgeous guy who bought our extra ticket?”

  “Uh, yeah. The one with all the 20-year-olds with him.”

  “Well, yes. But they weren’t with him, I mean not like that. One of them was his niece, one was with his brother and the other one was just a friend of said niece.”

  “OK.”

  “We hung out, he bought me a couple of beers, we danced really close and held hands some and he kissed the top of my head while we danced.”

  “OK.”

  “He did not ask for my number, nor did he give me his. He only gave me his business card. And I don’t know if I should call him.”

  “Do you want to call him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then call him.”

  “Liv, it’s not that simple.”

  “Why not?”

  “I mean if he had wanted to talk to me again we would have swapped cells right? Instead I got a business card. And it’s not like he asked me to use it.”

  “Hmmm,” she pondered. “Well, look at it like this. He gave you his card, he didn’t have to do that.”

  “Yeah, I’ve thought about that.”

  “Just call him. What’s the worst that can happen, he lets you know he isn’t interested. At least then you know. Right now all you are doing is making yourself crazy. Besides if I know you, this has as much to do with him not asking for your number as it does you wanting him. I’d say he might have played this pretty well,” she laughed.

  “Fine,” I hrumpfed into the phone.

  “Call him. And call me back!”

  CHAPTER THREE

  JOEL

  The conference call had ended but I was still on the phone with one of congressmen who I’d become friends with and frequently sought advice from when Maggie, my assistant, stuck her head in the door.

  I motioned her in and she handed me a tidy stack of pink papers. Old fashioned hand-written messages. Maggie was in heaven with our current voice-mail woes. She much preferred to put phone messages in front of me and absolutely refused to email them, that part I was actually OK with.

  I thumbed through them casually as the congressman continued to talk, but I stopped hearing any of the words when I saw her name on the little slip of paper.

  Natalie Porter, said you would know what it was about. Please call when you get the chance.

  I smiled at the piece of paper. I was afraid she wasn’t going to call. I’m not really sure why I didn’t get her cell number, or why I only gave her my business card. Fear? A test? It has been way too long since I’ve been in the dating game. And that’s one of the reasons why. It is a game and I hate playing games with people. Some would argue, but that is exactly what I do for a living and there is truth to that. But that is also one of the reasons I no longer work for my dad.

  I hurried to complete my call with the congressman and picked up the phone. I know I was smiling, ridiculously broadly. But it vanished a bit when it was not Natalie who answered, it was a law firm. I paused and then got my wits about me and asked for her and waited for the transfer.

  “This is Natalie,” she said.

  “I wasn’t sure you were going to call me,” I was typing the name of the law firm into Google as we spoke. It was a small personal injury firm in Richmond, which I had gathered from the area code. I didn’t see her name listed as an attorney.

  “I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to,” she sounded happy to hear from me. “How are you?”

  “I’m good.” Just then the page of staff members opened and a quick scroll down had me staring at her toothy smile and big blue eyes. She is a paralegal. Sleuthing done, I leaned back in my chair. “The usual craziness, which apparently you know a bit about it.”

  “A little bit, although not at your level and what you do. I don’t know that type of law at all. Why don’t you work for your dad?”