They were going to be pleased. This was a big account, the biggest I closed. I was hoping they would let me sit in on the meeting tomorrow. After all, I was the one who did the legwork to get them to sign. It was my right to be there for the good part.
Pretty soon I was going to be handling cases and hopefully someday a partner. All those advanced early classes in high school, all those extra credits and heavy course load I took in college… all of it was for this. My father would be proud. I wished he were here for me to call and tell him about tonight.
I gazed through the window up at the sky and sighed. All the buildings and lights in the city made it almost impossible to see the stars. Sometimes I felt like if I could only see the stars, I might feel closer to my father… I might get a greater sense that he was watching me and that he approved.
My apartment building came into sight and I breathed out a sigh of relief. A glass of wine sounded really good right about now. After dealing with clients for two hours, I might need more than one.
The interior of the building was quiet and I enjoyed it as I waited for the elevator. Seconds ticked by (felt like hours), and I heard the telltale ding of the car as it slid into place and the doors opened.
I came face to face with Max and stepped back in surprise. “Max!” I said, and my insides began to tremble. His dark eyes swept over me, unreadable but intense. We stared at each other so long that the doors began to close and my heart skipped a beat because I wasn’t ready to be separated from him yet.
Before that could happen, his hand shot out, stopping the doors from closing completely and pushing them back open to step out, bringing his body close to mine. Little shivers worked their way up my spine when his body heat enveloped me.
“Are you wearing new cologne?” I blurted when I inhaled. His scent was more masculine than usual. It tantalized my senses and caused something inside me to loosen.
The corner of his lip lifted with what looked like veiled amusement. “Yeah.”
“I like it.”
“Glad you approve.” His voice was low and he crowded my space. Instead of stepping around me, he stayed right there, right on top of me, and once again little shivers climbed up my spine. It was delicious.
I cleared my throat. “You going back to work?”
He sighed like the idea exhausted him, and I looked up, tilting my head back so I could look up at his face.
“Actually, I was going out for a drink.”
“A drink?” I wasn’t sure I understood.
“Yeah. I feel like a beer.”
“You drink beer?”
He made a face like he drank some sour milk. “Not usually. Tonight just feels like a beer night.”
“Did you have a bad day at work?” I asked, a sinking feeling coming over me.
“It was fine,” he replied, finally stepping back, putting a little distance between us.
So I was right.
He was trying to end the relationship. He was so unhappy he was going out to drink beer just so he didn’t have to be around me.
Well, I certainly wasn’t going to make him stay in a relationship he didn’t want. I’d rather be alone. I wasn’t going to wait for him to get up the courage to tell me he wanted out either. I was just going to tell him I knew what was wrong and then offer to move out.
Of course, before that happened we would have to come to sort of agreement about the lease, the rent, and the bills we shared.
“Earth to Charlotte,” he was saying, waving a couple fingers in front of my face.
“What?” I said, coming out of my inner thoughts.
“I said you look like you could use a beer too.”
I wrinkled my nose.
He made a rude sound. “Okay, a glass of wine,” he amended.
“I was just thinking about having a glass.” I admitted.
“Rough day?”
“Actually, I was able to close the account. I got the clients to sign!” It felt good to share my good news with someone.
“Rock on!” he said, giving me a grin. Then he held up his hand in between us.
I stared at it.
Did he want me to high-five him?
He did. He wanted me to give him a high-five.
I giggled and slapped my hand against his. When I pulled back, his fingers closed around mine.
“Come with me.”
“To where?” I asked, breathless. How had I never noticed how fragile my hand felt in his before? And where had he gotten those calluses?
He shrugged and gave me a boyish grin. “First bar we come to.”
I forgot all about how tired I was. I forgot about the pain my shoes were inflicting on my feet. All I could think about was the way my hand felt in his and the fact he wanted to take me out for beer.
“Okay,” I said, suddenly excited about the impromptu date. This was the first time we’d ever done anything spontaneous.
He released my hand and grabbed my briefcase, taking over and tossing it behind a giant potted plant.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
“Ditching the work. We can pick it up on the way in.”
He threw my briefcase behind a plant. He wanted me to leave it there. I laughed. He didn’t laugh with me. I gave him an incredulous look. “You’re serious.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Do you really think someone is going to steal a briefcase full of legal documents?”
I opened my mouth to tell him that yes, that’s what I thought. He didn’t let me say anything, cutting me off to make a sound like he was snoring.
“Boring,” he said.
I took a step to retrieve my manhandled briefcase. Max wrapped a hand around my elbow. “No you don’t. Let’s go.”
He dragged me out onto the sidewalk. I was so surprised I couldn’t even protest. He released me, looking up and down the street as if deciding where to go.
A cab drove by and he flagged him down, holding the door for me and climbing in behind me. “Take us to the closest bar,” he told the driver.
“Have you hit your head recently?” I asked. If I wasn’t so sensible, I might think aliens had invaded his body.
He didn’t answer, which made me think he had hit his head. Then I thought of something else. “Where is your car?” I hadn’t seen it parked on the street near the building lately.
He muttered something beneath his breath that sounded suspiciously like “freaking lawyer” before he turned to me to reply. “It’s in the shop.”
We were dropped off at a bar I’d never noticed before just a few blocks from our place. I was a little wary to go inside. I mean, what if it was unsafe? What if this was the kind of place that pedophiles congregated in to think about their next kidnapping.
I stopped walking.
What if the men who tried to kidnap me were inside?
“Charlotte?” Max said, turning to face me.
“This place could be full of criminals,” I said.
He laughed. It was a deep laugh. “It’s a piano bar.”
“A piano bar?”
“Yeah, can’t you hear the piano playing?”
Well, now that he mentioned it… “Criminals might like pianos.” I pointed out.
“Is there an off switch for the lawyer in you?”
I felt my eyes widen. “Excuse me?”
“Come on, Charlie, you need a drink.”
“Who the hell is Charlie?” I yelled as he dragged me toward the entrance.
“Charlotte,” he corrected.
“Charlie is a boy name,” I muttered as he paid the cover fee and we were waved inside.
Piano music filled the air, along with the deep tone of someone singing what sounded like an Elton John tune. The lighting was low in here, round tables scattered the room, and in the center was a giant wooden piano along with a small stage and various other instruments propped along the wall. People were laughing and singing along to the music. Waitresses weaved through the tables with trays full of drinks and chips.
>
“So what do you think?” Max said as he turned to me. “Are we gonna stay?” His smile was lopsided as he took my hand, waiting for me to give in.
The lawyer in me was ready to give a solid case of why we should leave.
The rest of me…
The rest of me wanted to stay.
He must have seen the look of surrender on my face because his smile turned smug as he towed me farther into the bar.
13
Tucker
I didn’t find it. I searched Max’s office endlessly. I looked in every possible place in the tiny space and came up empty.
And the phone.
His phone on the desk rang all day long. I stopped answering it after a while because I didn’t have answers to any of the questions being thrown at me. I didn’t understand his job or what he did. The corporate world was a long way from being an Armorer in the Marine Corps.
Don’t get me wrong, I liked money. It would likely be nice to have a lot of it. But for someone who never really had a lot of it, I didn’t understand why anyone would want to work with it and the people who had a ton of it all day long.
Money wasn’t everything.
But clearly Max had been good at his job. His office was organized meticulously, his notes were thorough, and everyone in the office seemed to like and respect him.
Except of course for the Wallace men. It sure felt good to imply that I knew he tried to kill me and that I still had the drive he wanted. It was like plunging a knife in a terrorist and twisting it just a little to watch them squirm.
I’d done it once. I would do it again.
Of course, every time I would see one of them and the looks they cast in my general direction, I began to realize that while baiting Wallace Jr. felt good, it wasn’t the smartest thing I’d ever done.
I pretty much painted a target on my back that screamed come and get me. They wanted me dead before and now they wanted it worse. They were going to come for me. It was just a matter of when.
I was going to be ready.
After I searched the office top to bottom and had enough of the damned ringing phone, I left. I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving. I just walked out. I even left my office unlocked. Why not? What they wanted wasn’t in there. I noticed a few gaping stares as I walked out, but I ignored them.
What were they going to do, fire me?
It was unlikely. They were going to want to keep me around so they could watch me.
I went the office gym and checked the locker that Max kept there (I told the attendant I lost my key so they cut the lock off and I bought a new one), but the only thing in the locker were gym clothes and a towel.
Next, I went to the bank to inquire about my safety deposit box, figuring Max had one. He didn’t.
Frustrated, I went back to the apartment and searched it. It was tedious because I couldn’t just toss things around. I had to be careful, not wanting Charlotte to realize I’d been going through everything.
I spent the entire day sexually frustrated, irritated, and practically watching two assholes plot my murder. Oh, and I didn’t find the damn drive.
I needed a beer. I needed several beers.
And then I ran into Charlotte.
She looked as exhausted as I felt. Even so, my cock hardened in my dress pants. I should have made up an excuse and left her there alone. I should have gotten the hell away from there fast.
But as I looked at her, I recalled when Wallace Jr. inquired about her safety. A fierce surge of protectiveness coursed through my veins. The thought of those bastards coming after her made my stomach sick. Men who hurt women deserved to rot in hell.
And I personally would escort them there.
I couldn’t leave her alone tonight.
Next thing I knew, we were walking into a piano bar and I was teasing her about her name. Hell, it was a freaking miracle I even remembered her name.
I glanced at her across the round table. She was wearing one of those damn suits and had her hair pulled severely away from her face. Her wide hazel eyes roamed the bar; it was like she was seeing everything for the first time. She was timid, but deep down she was curious; that much was obvious. She had an inner wild child just waiting to be unleashed.
A waitress wearing a black spandex top and a pair of skintight jeans approached the table with a small tray in her hand. “What can I get ya?” she asked in her Jersey accent.
I ordered a longneck and Charlotte ordered a glass of red wine. Yeah, maybe I should have ordered something more Max-like, but goddammit, I needed a beer.
A few minutes later, the waitress returned and I grabbed the beer and took a long pull. Both women were watching me. It was like they’d never seen a guy drink before. “Keep ‘em coming,” I told the server.
Charlotte studied me over the rim of her glass. I knew her brain was working overtime and I wondered what the hell she could be coming up with now.
She set the glass down in front of her like it was some sort of shield. “Are you trying to break up with me?” she asked, point blank.
I choked on the beer I was in the process of drinking and yanked the bottle from my lips. A trickle of the beverage ran down my chin and I used the sleeve of the jacket to wipe it away. “What?” I said, incredulous.
“You’ve been acting weird. Sometimes it’s like you’re angry. Sometimes it’s like you’re a whole different person. And now we’re here, in a bar, and you’re chugging beer like it’s liquid courage.”
What would be the appropriate answer for this situation?
I drank more beer.
She leveled those green-flecked hazel eyes on me. “If you want out, say you want out.”
I respected her approach. I was used to women who would try to sleep their way into a relationship, who would try to use sex to hang on to a man. Never had I ever once been with a woman who actually called me out on my behavior and gave me an out.
I set the beer on the tabletop with a thunk. “I don’t want out.”
“Then what the hell is going on with you?”
The waitress chose that moment to deliver another beer and glass of wine. I accepted it gratefully. “Better drink up,” I told Charlotte.
“Are you having problems at work? Is that what this is about?”
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” I said, knowing those words would make her practically foam at the mouth for answers. It was my way of actually keeping the conversation going without having to give up information. I wanted her to give up what she knew.
“Max,” she said, reaching across the table and taking one of my hands. An electric charge zapped through my body, like I was a completely dead battery that someone plugged in for a recharge. Sexual tension and desire threatened to take over my brain.
I used my free hand to deliver more beer into my system, hoping it would chill me out. The way she made me feel was unsettling. I didn’t like it.
“You know you can talk to me. You mentioned before about some stuff going on at the firm. Is that still going on?”
So Max tried to talk to Charlotte about this?
“Yeah,” I said, clearing my throat.
“Tell me what’s going on. You know I can help you.”
I made a face like I was doubtful and she shook her head and squeezed my fingers. “I know you said you didn’t want me to get involved, but I’m involved already. I can see what this is doing to you. Maybe I can help. Maybe the partners at the practice can help you.”
She leaned over the table toward me, her fresh scent wafting around me like some kind of scarf. “Do you need a lawyer, Max?”
So he hadn’t told her anything. He was trying to protect her. If I hadn’t already been feeling fiercely protective of her, then I would now. Knowing he wanted her kept safe was just more incentive to make sure no one hurt her.
“I don’t need a lawyer,” I said, leaning in so we were inches apart. “What I need is another beer and a night where we don’t have to talk about this.”
Charlotte sighed and sat back, pulling her hand away to wrap it around her glass. We sat in silence for long minutes, listening to the piano player. I noticed she was drinking her wine faster now and it made me think of the way she looked when I first stepped out of the elevator.
“I’m not the only one who had a long day,” I prompted.
“Yeah, but I scored a big client for the firm.”
I tapped my bottle against her glass and we both took a drink. “‘Grats,” I told her, studying her features. “You know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think you don’t like being a lawyer.”
Her eyes flashed up to mine and she automatically started shaking her head. But I saw the truth when I first said it.
“You know how hard I’ve worked to be successful.”
“But are you happy?” I asked, sitting forward, genuinely interested.
It was an invasive question, one it seemed Max never asked her, judging by the deer-in-headlights look I was getting. She gulped some wine, finishing off her first glass and reaching for the second.
“You ever had a beer?” I asked, hitching my chin at the bottle and changing the subject.
She wrinkled her nose. “You know I don’t like beer.”
“Have you ever tried it?”
“Ew.” She sniffed haughtily.
I rolled my eyes. “So how can you say you don’t like it if you’ve never tried it?” I pushed the amber-colored glass across the table toward her. “Try it.”
She looked at me like I was insane. I did what I always did when a girl acted like she didn’t want to do whatever it is I wanted her to do.
I put my elbows on the table and leaned forward, catching her eyes with mine and giving her a half smile. “Please?”
She swallowed thickly. It was clear I had an effect on her. She stared at me for long moments, our eyes not breaking contact. Then she reached for the bottle.
Watching those heart-shaped lips wrap around the rim had my stomach muscles clenching. I wanted her mouth around my dick.
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