Damon grabbed a fistful of Hayden’s jacket and guided him into the closest empty office. It took effort to move his jaw when he replied. To not speak through clenched teeth. “A few things. Speaking as your attorney, never let anyone hear you talk like that. Speaking as the guy who did hear it, if you ever imply that again—about me, yourself, anyone—you’ll wake up on the floor, with a mild concussion. First time’s free. Lucky you. My relationship with Vivian or any woman was, is, and always will be consensual.”
Hayden jerked free of his grasp. Despite his squared shoulders and the hard set to his eyes, he stayed out of arm’s reach. “Protesting much? Thinking a thought doesn’t make a guy guilty.”
Damon growled, clenched his fist, and took a step forward.
Hayden held up a hand. “So prove me wrong, tough guy. You don’t want to be here anyway. You made that clear. Anyone can see the tension between the two of you goes both ways, but I call bullshit that she surrenders control anywhere. If I’m wrong, you fly home early. Your team handles the depositions, like they were supposed to, and you go back to that little charity case of yours.”
A million options raced through Damon’s head, including several ways he’d punch Hayden right now and how much jail time he’d do for assault. Damon knew better than to let his temper take control, especially when someone tried to rile him up. He’d learned from his father at an early age that appearing to yield up front, while finding a smarter way out, was sometimes the best solution. “If it’s a bet, you want equal wagers on the table. You’re not right, but what do you get if you are?”
Hayden smirked and brushed past him. “Your job. Bet’s on, asshole. Don’t touch me again.”
Damon snarled at the back of Hayden’s head, and then composed himself before stepping back into the hallway. It was a bullshit wager. Vivian didn’t deserve to be in the middle of it. He needed a little time, to cool down and figure out how to deter Hayden, and the details wouldn’t matter.
The clenching rage and frustration in his joints disagreed, but it was ebbing adrenaline, not a nagging feeling this was a horrible idea.
VIVIAN COULDN’T GET the morning encounter with Damon out of her head. She knew the teasing was a bad idea, and she fell into it anyway. The attention was nice. Their shared past didn’t have anything to do with it. Or at least not much. She was really letting this loneliness get to her.
She shook aside the rambling thoughts and focused on her work again. Chatter and laughter rolled into her office from the hall, and she glanced at her computer clock. Almost two. The legal team had to be wrapping up a late or long lunch, or both. She felt bad about shrugging the work off on Tate; his schedule was as busy as hers. At the same time, she was relieved she had some distance from Damon, to deal with this glitch in her brain.
“Got a minute?” Tate’s question and knock drew her attention.
Good. A distraction. “What’s up?”
He stepped inside, closed the door, and took a seat. He hesitated before answering. “You remember that night in Vegas?”
Tate’s stiff posture, combined with the wandering thoughts of Damon that Vivian didn’t want to entertain, made the muscles in her neck tighten. She wanted to make a joke about having been too drunk, but she knew exactly what he was talking about.
“Sounds familiar.” The one that lead to these depositions. The cramfest of uncovering how NSS gained access to the Skriddie networks, and making sure the threat was removed and prevented in the future.
Tate sighed and sank further in his seat. “Apparently the four of us aren’t the only people who do.”
If she’d been on alert before, it was nothing compared to the alarms clanging in her head now. She didn’t think any of the four of them said anything then that could be used against them in this lawsuit, but they’d pulled an all-nighter, and like now, tensions had been high. She didn’t want to ask, but she had to know. “What are the claims?”
“They’ve got some kind of evidence that Mikki gave us proprietary information about the NSS network. Now they’re suggesting she always worked for us and took your offer back then, and that her signing on with NSS was nothing more than a front.”
Vivian swallowed a frustrated growl. “They know this is a business, not double-oh-seven, right? Only spies and corrupt companies come up with that kind of convoluted, double-agent bullshit.”
He shrugged. “We argued that, when they dumped this in our laps during scheduling, this morning. Their response was that’s the reason it never occurred to them until this whole legal mess started.”
“Jerks,” Vivian muttered. “How did they even get that information?”
“They’re holding their source close for now. I was hoping you might have some thoughts.”
Defensiveness spiked inside her. Or was that guilt, over flirting with the enemy? “Why are you asking me?”
“Because your office is closest to the conference room, and I kind of hoped this had already come up but wasn’t in the hand-off information. I’m asking Jared and Mikki next.”
“Right.” She blew out a long breath. “Sorry.”
“Vicker’s really knocked you off your game.”
“It shows, huh?”
“Only to me.”
That was something. “I’ll dig while you’re in there. See what I can find. It’s the least I can do, for dumping this on you last minute.”
“You’d do the same for me.”
It was true. Vivian would pull out the stops for any of them, which was why she wouldn’t let them crucify Mikki, for doing what was right. “Regroup tonight? Dinner?”
“It’ll have to be tomorrow morning, before the meetings start. Lys finally found the crib she wanted. I made her promise not to move any furniture around on her own.”
Vivian was surprised he got Alyssia to agree to wait, even eight months into her pregnancy. The woman wasn’t comfortable sitting and waiting for someone else to do things for her.
Tate paused with his hand on the doorknob. “Speaking of tonight, though...”
“Hmm?” Vivian didn’t like that oh-by-the-way tone.
“The entire group—their legal, ours—is going out for dinner. If you want to join them. Off the clock, no talk about the case—all that stuff.”
Perfect. This gave Vivian an excuse to ignore how much she didn’t want to spend the evening alone. As long as she could get her head on straight before spending that much time with Damon. “Everyone?”
He gave a half-shrug, half-nod.
A muddled mixture of anticipation and dread spilled through her, souring in her gut and making her pulse race. No reason to let that show, though. “Absolutely. I’ll make sure the boys don’t get into any trouble.”
Just keep yourself out of trouble in the process. Irritating voice. She’d be fine.
Chapter Four
FIFTEEN YEARS AGO
Damon’s fingers hovered above her skin, millimeters from her fresh ink but not touching the new tattoo of a violet on her breast. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s sexy as fuck, but why?”
Vivian draped her arms over his shoulders and settled in, straddling his legs. “It’s a birthday present to myself. I wanted to surprise you.”
He trailed his lips up the side of her neck, breath hot against her ear. “You let someone inflict that kind of pain on you, without letting me watch?”
She laughed at the implication, unable to ignore the spike of heat it sent through her. “I thought of you the entire time.”
“Naughty, naughty girl. Now that you’re back, do I get to buy you your first legal drink, to celebrate you turning twenty-one?”
“I took the night off, so I wouldn’t have to spend my time surrounded by drunk idiots. In other words, no.”
He nipped at her earlobe, sending tingles of want through her. “It’s your night. What do you want to do instead?” His voice was so low, she barely heard him, even with his mouth right next to her ear.
She shifted her weight against his legs a
nd ducked her head. “I want to be yours for the evening.” Even though her boldness came easily most of the time, this was the one thing she was embarrassed to ask for. She still struggled to get past the fact she willingly let him—wanted him to—do certain things to her, and enjoyed it. “Use me however you’d like, until I can’t think straight.”
A heavy current undercut his chuckle. “You’re so wicked.”
“It’s one of the things you love about me.”
He grasped her wrists roughly in one hand, and held them tight behind her back. “Arrogance gets you extra attention from the belt. And yes, it’s one of many reasons I love you.”
One-by-one, his words sank into her thoughts, warming her skin and heightening her senses. She didn’t know which she enjoyed more—the sharp sting of leather, raising red on her ass, or the tender, almost reverent way Damon brought her to orgasm after. Wait. That wasn’t true. She did know. Neither meant anything without the other. She squirmed, already slick in anticipation, and his cock hardened against her. “I love you too,” she said.
“Stand in the middle of the room and take off your clothes for me.” His whispered tone vanished, replaced with a low, commanding growl.
Vivian’s heart hammered against her ribs, and desire pulsed between her legs. “Yes, Sir.”
NOW
“The blonde starts sobbing, and when the other two women ask her what’s wrong, she cries, I’m having puppies.” Hayden laughed at his own punchline.
Damon didn’t try to hide his eye roll, and neither did anyone else at the table. A few nervous chuckles rolled around the hibachi grill, but all the others appeared disgusted or did their best to look anywhere but at Hayden. No surprise, Hayden got worse when he had a few drinks in him. Vivian tightened her jaw, but her expression relaxed again so quickly, Damon almost didn’t catch it. She seemed the least flustered.
Damon’s phone vibrated against his thigh, and he reached for it. A glance at the screen told him it was his boss. Damon didn’t know if he’d ever before been so relieved to get an after-hours call from work. He looked around, to excuse himself, but everyone was otherwise distracted.
“This is Damon Vicker,” he said as he strode toward the exit. It was too loud in here for any conversation. That, and maybe the fresh air would help him clear his head.
“How’s Atlanta?” Camille asked.
“Fantastic.” Damon kept the pleasantry genuine, despite the snide tone in Camille’s voice.
“Glad to hear it.” She sounded anything but. “The boss’s son behaving himself?”
“Not even close.” He found an out-of-the-way spot along the side of the building, and leaned a shoulder against the brick. He could see the parking lot, but the rush of traffic was muted. “You walking out for the night?” It was nine here, which made it six back in Portland. He had a feeling if she was calling now, she’d be working late.
“It’s funny you should ask that.” The growing irritation in her voice set Damon on edge and tensed his muscles. “I’m actually going to be here a while.”
Fuck. “What’s up?”
“Well... I’m looking at a lawsuit from the GG foundation, accusing IasoChem of harassment, discrimination, and promoting a hostile work environment.”
Damon pinched the bridge of his. IasoChem was one of their biggest clients, and Camille found every excuse she could, to force Damon through the ringer, for starting the GG Foundation without approval. “They simply need to go through the mediation and show they’ve learned their lesson. That’s why we give them that option.” She knew that, but he reminded her anyway. It wasn’t as though the request was unreasonable. People deserved to be treated like people.
“IasoChem isn’t interested in that. They want us to crush the plaintiff. Can you say conflict of interest?”
Probably better than you’d like. Images of Vivian flashed in his mind. “I’m not handling their case. You’ve got me answering to someone else’s whims right now.”
Her sigh rocked through the earpiece and echoed in his skull. “Because you keep saying bullshit like this in earshot of Hayden, and he doesn’t think you respect him.”
“I don’t.”
“Damon.” Her voice was sharp. “Deal with Hayden and get back here. You need to make this GG Foundation thing vanish.”
“I’m not doing that. It defeats the purpose. The foundation is a safe place for people to come forward.”
“It’s been a year. The press doesn’t care about this bullshit anymore. Sweep it under the rug and focus on helping someone not suing one of our clients, if that’s the only way you can sleep at night. Her job or yours. Think about it.”
The line went dead. Damon glared at his phone, a dozen foul words repeating over and over for several minutes in his head.
IF VIVIAN HAD TO HEAR another blonde joke, she’d scream, and she wasn’t interested in letting any of these people know they got under her skin like that. Speaking of cracked composure, the paralegal who was part of Damon’s group looked as if she wanted to crawl under a table and hide until this all stopped. Poor girl wasn’t going to get anywhere, if she didn’t learn to shrug off the blonde jokes.
Vivian stood and changed seats, taking the one Damon had abandoned a few minutes earlier. Lucky bastard, getting a reprieve. It put her next to Vanya, the paralegal.
“Hey.” Vivian kept her voice quiet, not wanting to disturb the raucous laughter. “No one’s going to be offended if you slip out for the evening.” And Vivian had every intention of doing the same. Preferably before Damon came back, because she didn’t want to deal with his attitude. Not because you’re worried he won’t notice? She crushed the ridiculous thought.
Vanya gave her a tiny smile, already pushing back from the table. “If you’re sure...”
“Hang on.” Vivian rested a hand on Vanya’s arm, and Vanya’s smile froze. “Can I borrow a cigarette?”
“Yeah, sure.” Vanya fished one from the pack in her purse, said she’d see Vivian tomorrow, and vanished in the dinner crowd, on her way to the exit.
Vivian made sure the restaurant had her corporate card on file, to pay for the meal, said her goodnights, and moments later made her way outside as well. She didn’t want the cigarette smell in her car—it had been ages since she had a smoke—so she wandered toward a picnic-style table at a neighboring cafe that was closed for the evening. She lit up and took a long drag. It had been long enough since she smoked, the puff left her lightheaded. But with nicotine feeding relaxation through her veins, it was worth it. It was going to be a long few weeks.
The lawsuit had already been taxing. Answering requests for documentation. Dealing with accusations that Skriddie was the one at fault. Their professional lives stuck under a magnifying glass. Having NSS in the office made the stress around the entire thing even worse. Go figure.
She inhaled another puff, her nerves calming further. Being away from the noise helped as well. Not that it was quiet out here. Music from the dance club next door spilled into the night, the bass sending a light tremble through the ground. She tapped her toe in time to the beat. As she smoked, she wiggled her hips to the music. Maybe she needed to go home and crank up a dance tune there. Something to fling herself into and forget about the world around her. Except she didn’t want to dance alone.
She muffled the desire to fall into the music, and stilled herself, to finish her cigarette.
“That bad, huh?” Damon’s question cut into the calm night. Sympathy, not disdain, lined his voice.
She tilted her head back, to look at the sky, and blow out a puff of smoke. “What do you think? These people are my friends and family, and they’re being dragged through the mud, their ethics questioned and their time consumed, because y’all are greedy assholes.”
Damon sat next to her on the bench but left at least a foot between them. “How did I get lumped into the same group as them?”
“You work for them.” She held the smoke near the ground, used the toe of her shoe to make s
ure the cherry was out, and set the cigarette butt on the table, so she could throw it away later.
“Exactly. It’s work; it’s not personal. Sorry we can’t all work with our replacement families.”
She snapped her head toward him at the bitterness that crept into his tone. Was he playing a part? Digging for sympathy? It didn’t matter, she wasn’t getting sucked into whatever manipulation he had going on. Unless he’s not manipulating anything.
Right. “Because this is all about the money.”
“Money and fame.” No emotion lined his words now. “You know that as well as I do. You got lucky with your job, and get to like it at the same time. Sorry to be a part of the tiny waves in paradise.”
That was what she thought. He was trying to tug on her heartstrings. “If I wasn’t happy with Skriddie business practices, I’d leave. I have that option, and so do you,” she said.
“You’d pick up and leave your family? I forgot. Loved ones come first until you get a better job offer.”
She glared at him. As much as she tried to keep her delivery cool, his words dug deep. “I need to get home.”
“Wait.” His single word made her pause. “I’m sorry. I didn’t come over here to pick a fight.”
“No. You’re right.” She turned to face him, tapping her toes inside her shoes in time to the beat. God, she’d rather be dancing right now. “I do hope I don’t have to give up this family, though.”
“Lucky them.” He grinned, but sadness lingered in his eyes. “Listen, I didn’t want to come on this trip. I’m trying to hand the case off, but Hayden keeps pulling me back in.” He almost sounded sincere.
An ache echoed in her chest. Not that he was chipping away at her defenses, but maybe she could be a little kinder tonight. “I’m sorry you have to put up with that.”
“It is what it is.” He waved a dismissive hand. “It’s all about the money and fame, right?”
“Do you ever think about leaving it all behind?” She didn’t mean to say that aloud. It was a question meant more for her than anyone.
Her Counselor (Love Hack, #3) Page 3