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I do one even better. I hand over the typed memorandum and eat my cupcake while he reads it. When he’s done, he looks up. “Well, the good news is, if I were to help you on this, at least my firm doesn’t represent this particular insurance company so there would be no conflict of interest for me to be involved in this case. ”
Laying the memorandum down, he reaches over and picks his sub back up. “There’s a lot to consider. I mean, what type of firm would we have, where would we locate it, what do we need to do to go about setting it up? I mean… we need bank accounts, office space, equipment…”
Reaching down into my briefcase, I calmly hand over a thick document that I stayed up all night working on. The cover says, “Business Plan, Carson and Dawson, LLC”.
Cal glances down at it, and his eyes widen in disbelief. “You got to be kidding me. When did you do this?”
Shrugging my shoulders, I say, “It’s just a little something I whipped up last night. ”
Giving a huge bark of laughter, Cal sets his sub back down again and picks up the business plan. He starts reading it and, because it will take a while, I go ahead and get to work on my salad.
I amuse myself by people watching, but amusement turns to sadness when I see Matt walk in… with Kylie Wynn right behind him. She’s talking animatedly toward him, and yup… there goes the classic laying of her hand on his arm. Apparently, that move never gets old for her.
After they pay for their meals, which I take a small measure of glee in noting that they paid separately, I watch as Matt scans the room, looking for an open table. His eyes pass over Cal and me, not giving much of a glance since our table isn’t empty.
But then his eyes snap back to me, and our gazes lock.
We stare at each other a moment and, for just a brief time, it’s like nothing bad ever happened between us. There is still a palpable connection, and our eyes hold all of those secrets. But then Matt’s gaze flicks over to Cal, and his face hardens a tiny bit.
I expect Matt to try to find a table as far away from us as he can, but he surprises me when he walks over to us. When he’s only a few feet away, I kick Cal under the table. He looks at me, and I nod over his shoulder so he knows someone is approaching.
Cal turns slightly and sees Matt and Kylie.
“Matt,” Cal says with a nod of his head.
Matt is ever polite, because he has to be since he and Cal deal with each other in the professional world. Matt nods back and introduces Kylie. While Cal makes small talk with Kylie for a few moments, I see Matt’s eyes glance down at the business plan I had just handed Cal. He sees the words Carson and Dawson, LLC clear as day. I watch his face carefully so I can gauge how this will affect him. I mean, it’s truly none of his business, but I imagine this would piss him off royally.
He does nothing more than bring his eyes up to mine though. They look sad for just a flash, and then he gives me a small smile.
I’m not sure if that is approval or just general acceptance, but he didn’t react the way I expected him to.
After some quick goodbyes, Matt and Kylie seek out their own table and Cal and I return to talking about logistics.
Matt and I are flying back to New York from Atlanta. He had me, once again, attend some depositions with him so I could take notes, while he meticulously picked apart witness after witness. He sprung this trip on me at the beginning of the week, telling me three of the last four days of my employment would be spent with him in the Peach State on a medical malpractice case.
We just finished a long day of depositions and made it to the airport with a little bit of time to spare before we boarded the eight PM flight into JFK.
I’m not angry to be here. In fact, it gave me another few days to observe the legal brilliance of Matthew Connover. And yes, I got to observe the hotness of him, too, which is always nice, although it made me a little nostalgic. Just looking at Matt in a custom-made, tailored suit was worth the trip.
While leaving his firm is truly the best decision for my own peace of mind, I am going to miss being able to see his gorgeous face.
And that magnificent body.
And that brilliant mind.
And f**k, that just makes me sad, but it is what it is.
Matt has been strange since I gave my notice. I expected him to be cold and aloof. Rather, he treats me with the utmost respect, and I even see flashes of his easygoing humor. Sometimes, there will be brief moments when we are talking about a case, and I will forget how badly I’m hurting. I can see he forgets it too, because sometimes I see warmth in his eyes. Sometimes, I’ve even seen lust, which affects me on a whole other level I’d rather not think about. It doesn’t help that I have dirty dreams of him almost every night, and my poor vibrator is just not measuring up.
While we were in Atlanta, he was very professional. We worked each day together, spending seven to eight hours straight in depositions. We usually had dinner together at night in the hotel restaurant, where we would continue to work… going over my notes for the day and strategizing on how to best attack the next day’s deponents. We would say goodnight in the elevator, and we both went to sleep alone.
It was truly the employer-employee relationship we should have had all along.
But I’m not gonna lie… it was extremely unsatisfying, knowing what I used to have.
Now, as wait for our flight to board, there is no work to prepare for the next day so we have to rely on general conversation to get us through. I’m nervous, because so far, Matt and I have been able to get along by keeping things on a professional level. I’m trying to think of something interesting to say when Matt takes the lead.
“I’m releasing Kylie Wynn from her contract on the Pearson appeal. ”
“Really?” I ask with extreme curiosity. “I thought she was an expert or something. ”
Matt sort of grunts and picks at an imaginary piece of lint on his dress pants. “I really just needed the extra pair of hands more than anything. I know as much about appellate law as she does. I was just short on time. Besides… she got a little, uh… too personal with me. ”
Now I’m surprised. Surprised that Matt admits this to me, and I have to wonder why.
“I kind of saw that coming,” I tell him. “What did she do?”
He shrugs his shoulders and sighs. “Just made a pass at me in my office. I mean… a really awkward pass. ”
The giggle that pops out is unintended. “What is it with you and female lawyers? First Lorraine… and now Kylie. You’re like a magnet. ”
We both chuckle, and then Matt’s gaze sort of focuses in on me with a somber look. “You were actually first… then Lorraine, and then Kylie. But you were in a different league than they were. ”
His words warm me—that he is at least validating that I was different. That I was more.
I just wasn’t enough though.
Clearing his throat, he brings me back out of my rumination. “I brought up the thing about Kylie because I was wondering if you would like to contract with me to help me on the Pearson appeal?”
“What?” I ask, utterly shocked.
“I saw the business plan Cal was reading that day at lunch. I assume you two are going to start your own law firm together?”
Cal and I did indeed decide to go for it. We’ve met several times to iron out the details and, starting next week, we open the doors to Carson and Dawson. We’re each going to fund fifty percent of the startup costs and be equal partners. I’m excited but scared as shit, because I’m risking a lot of my inheritance on this.
Matt doesn’t sound in the least bit perturbed by my new venture, which actually makes sense. He didn’t want me to have anything to do with Cal when we were a couple. Now that we’re not, he clearly doesn’t care.
“Yes,” I confirm to him. “We are starting up a firm. While I would need to talk to Cal about it first, I’d love to be able to do some contract work for you. As you know, I really only have one case to my nam
e. ”
The smile that Matt gives me is surreal. It’s reminiscent of the smiles I used to get when we were at our happiest, and it causes a tiny jolt of longing to shoot through my heart.
“Excellent,” he says. “We can discuss the details tomorrow before you leave. ”
We’re called to board and, after we take our seats, the conversation actually seems to flow as if there was never anything harsh, sad, or bitter between us. It seems Matt has made peace with the way things are, and while I’m still in mourning over my loss of him, it’s amazing to me that we can be together like this… in a friendly manner.
I suppose that has to do with the fact that neither one of us really screwed the other over. We just came to a quick realization that neither one of us wanted the same thing. So, yes… I’m very, very sad that Matt isn’t my lover anymore. But I also don’t hold it against him. He tried for me. He tried to give me what I asked for, but he just wasn’t very good at it.
How can you fault someone for at least trying?
Matt and I share a cab from JFK. It’s just past midnight when it pulls up to my apartment building.
“Pop the trunk,” Matt tells the cabbie, and he steps out to help me with my luggage.
After pulling my suitcase out, he shuts the trunk and turns to me. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning. ”
I smile at him, and it takes everything in my power not to reach out and brush a lock of his hair from his forehead. “Okay. See you tomorrow. ”
I start to turn toward my building when Matt’s hand reaches out and grabs my wrist. Turning to look at him, I’m almost knocked over by the look on his face. It’s an arrangement of emotions that Matt never dares to share with me. There’s confusion, loneliness, and uncertainty—everything that would make someone like Matt extremely vulnerable.
I raise my eyebrows at him, and he seems to be at a loss for words. But then he quickly recovers, because this is Matt Fucking Connover and he’s never truly without his prose.
“Let me come in with you?” he asks in a low voice that is laced with sensual promise and just a hint of desperation.
“Matt…” I begin, intent on turning him down.
But his thumb strokes over the pulse on my wrist, and my body is deciding to weigh in on this decision. “We shouldn’t. We can’t. We’re not together anymore. ”
He pulls me toward him until we are toe to toe, but he doesn’t touch me anywhere else, except that continual stroking over my wrist. “I know. I know we’re not, and I know we shouldn’t. But… one last time?”
One last time? I mean… what could one more time hurt, right? It’s to say good-bye.
To make peace.
To have closure.
All of these reasons sound so damn good. I know that my heart is going to hurt worse tomorrow because I’ll start my grieving all over again, but wouldn’t that be worth one more night in Matt’s arms?
“One last time?” I ask, just to make sure of what he’s offering.
“Just tonight,” he says softly. “But it will be all night. ”
Shivers race up and down my spine from the seduction in his voice, and any tiny thought of declining his offer completely evaporates.
“Okay,” I whisper, almost afraid if I say it too loud that Matt and I will snap out of this stupidity we’ve talked ourselves in to.
“Let me pay the cab,” he says as he releases his hold on me. I watch as he walks around to the driver’s door and pays the fare. Then the trunk pops open again, and he pulls his suitcase out.
Now that he’s not touching me anymore, I have a small kernel of doubt.
Okay, a huge kernel of doubt. This is dumb, dumb, dumb.
I’m giving in to Matt’s desire for sex, and what do I get in return? I don’t get a relationship, true love, or hell, I won’t even get breakfast in the morning. I’m scratching his itch, and I’m telling him that I admit I was never good enough to be more than a good f**k for him.
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