She drops her jacket on the chair. “Then you’ll definitely need me.”
“But how will you live? Your rent, your car…”
“Secret.” Penny retrieves her CV and tucks it into her bag.
“Secret?”
“That’s right. Secret. Everyone has a secret. My secret enables me to pick and choose my jobs regardless of salary. Except for the boring, stuffy, corporate decor, I like it here. Now, where should I hang my coat?”
Three hours later, Penny has the office rearranged, organized, and dusted. I have lunch on my desk, fresh coffee in my cup, and a long list of supplies that are apparently essential for the smooth functioning of a legal practice.
Penny sips her tea and tries to convince me to ditch my new AW logo because the AW AW AW screensaver on her computer makes her feel pathetic. When I refuse to capitulate, she suggests changing my new gray and navy embossed stationery for something funky with bold colors and fancy designs. Then she tries to get me to change the name of the firm from Amanda Westwood, Attorney at Law to Westwood and Sons, despite the fact I have no sons and, given the abysmal state of my sex life, no prospect of ever having sons in the future.
I tell her I know how to project a corporate image and this is it. She tells me I need to step out of the Farnsworth & Tillman shadow and get a life. Our stalemate lasts a whole three seconds before she sucks in a warning breath and whispers, “Courier.”
Ten minutes later, we stand in front of my desk and stare at the large cardboard box with the words “Do Not Open Until Instructed” written in bold black letters across the top.
Penny runs her finger over the letters. “I think you should open it.”
“It says ‘Do Not Open.’”
“You don’t always have to follow the rules.” She rolls her eyes. “And I can’t stand the suspense. We don’t even know who it’s from.”
Biting my lip, I tap the box. So tempting. But I have strength. I have willpower. Amanda Westwood does not succumb to temptation. “Go get the scissors.”
But before Penny reaches her desk, my cell phone buzzes and Jake’s name flashes on my screen. I had forgotten we traded numbers after I’d agreed to rent the house from him.
Something in my face alerts Penny to the personal nature of the text and she gives me a wink and discretely makes her way out of the office.
Did u get my present?
If u mean big box with “Do Not Open,” then yes
Did u open it?
What do u think?
Things I think shdn’t be texted
Can I open it?
No
Why?
Want you to suffer
Seems to happen every time we’re together
???
Now can I open box?
No. Want to hear more about suffering
Didn’t know u were a sadist
Didn’t know u were afraid to talk to me
Didn’t know u had a girlfriend
**frowns** No girlfriend
Sia
Friend. Not girlfriend
Does she know that?
She wants that
What do u want?
Want u to open box.
It doesn’t take me long to cut open the box. Laughter makes my hands shake and for a moment I can’t text. Instead, I pull the midsize microwave out of its packaging and place it on the credenza. But when I open the microwave door, my laughter fades into something warm and fuzzy that makes my heart squeeze. The note inside reads, “Eating is important.”
The insistent buzz of my phone tears me away.
Office warming present. You like?
Very sweet and thoughtful, but there is a kitchen here
I know u won’t use it and I like my girls with curves
What girls?
U
U like my curves?
Thought about ur curves all night
I like pressie. Tx
How tx?
????
Sext tx
U want me 2 sext u 2 tx u?
**winks**
Respectable attorneys don’t sext
Naughty Amandas do sext
How about a selfie?
Depends what part of self is in selfie
Bad Jake
You can’t imagine
Cheeky. Although I’m not about to compromise my professional career with naughty sexts, I can send him something. After a fresh swipe of lipstick, I kiss a piece of paper, take a quick picture and Instagram my lips. After an interminably long silence, my phone buzzes.
More
***
Later that afternoon, after Penny drags me through the long supply list, I am shocked into speechlessness when Sandy breezes in looking exquisite in camel pants, a white silk blouse, and a cashmere shawl.
“She’s carrying a $10,000 handbag.” Penny’s eyes widen.
“She’s wearing $2,000 shoes.”
“You want me to knock her out and steal her stuff? That might solve your financial problems.”
“I’ll think about it.” And I do. For all of three seconds.
“I’ll get a bat.”
My eyes flick to Penny. “I never knew you had a bloodthirsty side. You’ve only been here a few hours and already I’m seeing a whole new you.”
Penny’s mouth opens and closes again. But her retort never comes. Instead, she sucks in a sharp breath and grips the edge of the desk. “Sweet mother of hotness. Lookit the man candy she’s got with her.”
My heart skips a beat. Jake.
They sweep into the office and stop in front of Penny’s desk.
“I’ve brought you a new client,” Jake says as if he doesn’t know what happened two years ago between Sandy and Makayla.
My eyes flick to Sandy. She bites her lip and twists her hands around her insanely expensive handbag, then has the good grace to look away. She knows exactly what I think of representing her, which is no with a capital N.
“Would you excuse us?” I try to sound gracious, but my words come out biting instead. “I need to speak to Jake for a minute. Penny will look after you.”
“What the hell?” I spit out as soon as we’re in my office. “I appreciate you bringing me clients, but you need to check with me first. I can’t represent her. I vicariously hate her for tweeting Makayla’s ass in revenge for what she saw as stealing Max away.” And because she picked Jake up on the rebound from me and still holds a torch for him. Not that I’m about to share that little tidbit of information.
He arches an eyebrow. “I admire your loyalty, but you have to get over it. You need clients, and she’s desperate for a commercial litigation attorney with experience working at a big law firm. She started a company to set up summer camps for underprivileged kids, but she got into a land dispute with some developers. She’s been conflicted out of the big firms because of family and business connections. It’s a high-profile, five-million-dollar lawsuit, and she has the money to pay.”
Summer camps for underprivileged kids? Sandy? My resolve wavers.
Sensing victory, Jake closes the distance between us and rests his forearm on the door beside my head. His body is so close I can feel his heat and a tiny, betraying shiver of need races down my spine.
“What if she showed up at your legal aid clinic?” His voice softens. “You’ve never turned away anyone who needed help. It was one of the things I liked about you. Even though you were insanely busy, you always made time to give something back and that’s what you’d be doing by helping her. She’s trying to make life better for those kids. I know she’s made mistakes, but at heart, she’s a good person.”
I fix him with my best scowl. “You knew I wouldn’t be able to say no.”
“Hearts don’t change.” He taps my chest. “And yo
urs is a good one.”
With a heavy sigh, I text Makayla. She texts back within minutes. She’s fine with me representing Sandy. In fact, she thinks it’s hilarious. She reminds me she revenge tweeted Sandy’s ass and it didn’t trend, so she considers them even.
“Makayla’s good with it too.” I tilt my head and give him a begrudging smile. “Thanks. I’m sure there are lots of Big Law escapees out there you could have recommended.”
Jake chuckles softly. “Is that all the thanks I get?”
“What else did you have in mind?”
He pulls me into his chest and teases my lips with his tongue. “I have a lot of things in mind,” he rasps. “Most of which I suspect would be inappropriate for a law firm. But if I had to choose one, it would be bending you over your desk in that fucking hot, tight little suit…”
My body heats in an instant and I gasp, cutting him off. He’s running hot and cold and I’m scrambling to catch up and deal with the sudden shock of arousal that has fired my blood.
He curls his hand around the back of my neck, holding me still as he leans in and ravages my mouth. My hands slide up his broad chest, twining around his neck to pull him down for more. With a groan, he curves one hand over my waist to grip my ass, fingers digging into soft flesh, pulling my hips so hard against him, I can almost feel every ridge of his hardened length between us.
My God. I’m sexing it up in my own law firm. All those years turning down offers to sex it up at Farnsworth & Tillman, I missed out. Big time.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He tugs up my skirt and traces a finger along the elastic of my panties, blazing a trail of fire across my skin. Moisture floods my sex and my knees tremble. I don’t care if it’s unprofessional to have sex in my office. I don’t care that Penny and Sandy are just outside the door. I don’t care if this is all a mistake. He says he wants me, and I want to feel him inside me so I know it’s true.
“I need you.” I drop one hand to his belt and work the buttons on my shirt with the other.
Jake hisses in a breath and jerks away. He takes one step back and then another, chest heaving.
Alone, on the edge, I lean against the door, my breath coming in short pants. “What’s wrong? What did I do?”
His voice drops to a strained rasp. “Nothing. You didn’t do anything. You’re just…hard to resist.”
“But…” My mouth drops open and my body aches with the sudden drop in arousal. “Is it Sia? Sandy said you were with her…”
“I tried it with her,” he growls. “It didn’t work out. I tried it with a lot of girls—a lot—but none of them…” He pounds his fist on the wall and the fresh plaster gives way, leaving a gaping hole. “None of them were you. None of them made me feel the way you made me feel.”
“But then what’s the problem?”
He scrubs his hand over his face. “Last time was too fast, too intense. Overwhelming. You pushed me away and I went. This time I want to take it slow. Do things different. Make sure it’s right. I just…when I’m with you…it’s so damn hard.”
Humiliation hardens my heart. “Why waste your effort? I’m the same person I was. Nothing is going to change.”
Before I can say anything else, he brushes a kiss over my forehead and then pulls open the door. “It already has.”
***
Sandy and I manage to have a civilized meeting after Jake leaves. I try not to think about how he left me hanging or why I’m wasting time and energy on a man who has an agenda that involves not having sex.
As we exit my office, I catch sight of Ray, now ensconced on my new Farnsworth & Tillman–style couch, his shoes up on my new glass coffee table.
I blink. Ray nods and says, “Hey,” as if he hangs out in my office every day, drinking my coffee, scuffing my table, and reading my newspapers.
Sandy’s head snaps in his direction and she sucks in a breath. Ray stares at her. She stares at Ray. Penny and I exchange a glance.
“Tell me again what he’s doing here.” I keep my voice to a low, discreet hiss.
“You need an investigator.”
“Not him. He works for Farnsworth. He has a conflict.”
I clear my throat to draw Ray’s attention, but he’s still entranced by the fair Sandy and she by him. I have to admit, she is looking especially gorgeous today with her long, blond hair fanning over her shoulders and a jaunty tan beret perched on her head. Of course, no one could look bad carrying a $10,000 handbag or wearing $2,000 shoes.
“He says it isn’t a problem,” Penny whispers.
“Well, it’s a problem to me.” I give Ray a cold smile. “Um. Ray? Could I talk to you for a second?”
He tears his gaze away from Sandy and gives me a wink. “Sure thing. Just catching up with Pen. Nice to see you out on your own and already gettin’ clients.” With a nod at Sandy, Ray shifts his long, lithe body on the couch and crosses his ankles. Not the pose of a man about to get up and do my bidding, but who am I to complain? Even I am not immune to his chiseled good looks and hard-body charm. He is looking particularly commando today: buzz cut, army fatigues, black boots, grizzled chin, and a mysterious bulge on his side that looks suspiciously like a weapon. But what would a PI be doing with a weapon?
Since he doesn’t seem to have taken the hint that I want to talk to him in private, I try another tactic. “So, what can I do for you, Ray?”
“Heard you have some investigation work. Tell me what you need, and I’ll get it done.”
I glance at Sandy and then back to Ray. “Don’t you have another…employer? Someone who can actually pay what you’re worth? Someone who might be upset to find out you’re doing contract work for me?”
“Nope.” He smiles at Sandy. “You got a case?”
“Yes.” Her tiny voice is so unlike her usual full-throated fight scream, I almost can’t believe it’s coming from her.
“Amanda tell you if you need a PI on it?”
Her cheeks brighten. “Yes. I told her to hire the best.”
Ray gives a satisfied grunt. “Right. I’m hired. Your client wants me, Amanda. Looks like we’ll be working together again.”
I give an indignant sniff as Sandy waves good-bye and heads out the door. “Direct as always. I see you haven’t changed. Did Penny mention I can’t pay you?”
“I’m here—means I’ve changed,” he says brusquely. “And I’m not worried about pay.”
“How nice no one needs to worry about getting paid,” I mutter as I head to my office. “I’m definitely in the wrong profession.”
“Hey, Amanda,” Ray yells as I push open my door.
Turning, I raise an eyebrow. “Check out the décor. This is a law firm, Ray. We don’t yell or raise our voices here. Also, we don’t put our shoes on the table. Pretend you’re at Farnsworth & Tillman. Act accordingly.”
Ray snorts a laugh. “You want this to be a mini Farnsworth & Tillman? Take a look around, sweetheart. This house is made for comfort and relaxation. It’s a place to loosen up. Be yourself. Are you really Farnsworth & Tillman or are you something more?”
More than Farnsworth & Tillman? They are the top of the top. La crème de la crème. The firm every law student wanted to join. My father gave me a rare pat on the head when I showed him my offer letter. How can there be more?
“I want it to be professional.”
“Yeah?” Ray bounces on the couch. “Nothing professional about making your clients sit on an uncomfortable couch. This couch…hard as nails. I saw a nice couch in the hallway. Flowers and birds and garden-type things all over it. Lotsa cushions, although a bit beat up. I’m thinking you should swap these out and bring it in. You want, I’ll do that for you.”
“Law firm. Not lounge,” I snap. “I need to project a professional image.”
Ray lifts an eyebrow. “You need to let go of the past.”
> Maybe I do. And Jake with it.
Chapter 9
THE SUBMISSION MASTER
The next day, the unthinkable happens.
Rampage and the other fighters who helped me at Hellhole are served with a civil lawsuit for ten million dollars courtesy of Bob and his sidekick, now identified in the voluminous documents as Clive Custer. From the papers Rampage faxes to me, it appears they have retained some back alley attorney who has clearly taken the case on a contingency basis with the mind-set of “throw enough at them and something might stick.”
I see red.
Penny and I spend the rest of the afternoon drafting retainer agreements for the fighters, all of whom, except for Jake, have agreed to have me represent them. No arm twisting needed.
“Do you want me to draft something up for Jake just in case?” Penny hands me an envelope with the completed documents as I grab my gym bag from the storage cupboard.
“Not yet. It’s a bit of a tricky situation, which is why I need to speak to him in person.” I shrug on my jacket and tuck the envelope in my purse. “If we were in a sexual relationship and he wanted to retain me, it wouldn’t be an issue. The ethical rules allow attorneys to take a lover as a client. What they don’t allow is an attorney taking a client as a lover. I’m not sure if we are in a sexual relationship. Or if our relationship from before would count. All I really know is we had sex two years ago. And now we’re not having sex. Unless, of course, meaningless foreplay in the office counts as sex.”
Penny frowns. “So if you have sex with him, then he can hire you as his attorney without any ethical issues?”
“Crudely put, yes. But even if I was the kind of person who would purposely have sex with someone to smooth over ethical issues for the sole purpose of getting a client, which I’m not, I don’t know if I want to get involved with him again. It’s just too hard. Too many emotions involved. Too much history. I’m thinking I need to start fresh, find someone new.”
In Your Corner Page 11