by Beth Orsoff
“I have to pay him?” she shouted. “But he’s the one who cheated!”
A sentiment I heard on a daily basis. I gave her my stock answer, which also happened to be the truth: “I know it’s not fair. But California’s a no-fault state, so unless there was abuse…”
She shook her head. “No. Never.”
Thank God. The domestic violence cases were the worst. “Then the court won’t care. My job is to protect you, Selena. To get you the best deal possible with the least amount of pain. But as your lawyer—”
“You’re not her lawyer yet,” Jake said. “We’re meeting with several attorneys.”
Obviously he was holding a grudge. But I wasn’t going to let him rattle me. “Of course,” I said and turned my still-smiling face to Selena. “You should talk to several”—I emphasized the word just as Jake had, but I didn’t sneer—“other lawyers before you decide. Everyone has a different style. It’s important to find someone you’re comfortable with.”
“I’m comfortable with you,” she said.
“Thank you, Selena, I appreciate that. But Jake’s right. You don’t want to make a hasty decision you’ll later regret.”
“I listen to my gut,” she said. “And my gut is telling me to go with you.”
No doubt her gut had told her to marry her philandering gold-digging husband too, and look where that had gotten her. But I kept that observation to myself. “Then I would be happy to represent you. I’ll have my assistant send you a retainer agreement by the end of the day. Please read it over carefully and let me know if you have any questions.”
“Send it to me,” Jake said. “Selena doesn’t sign anything without our lawyer looking at it first.”
“No problem.” It was a common request and one I’d never minded before. It must have been because it came from him that it irked me.
When the waiter cleared our plates and asked if we wanted anything else, Selena took the opportunity to visit the ladies’ room, and Jake and I pulled out our respective phones.
“So I hear you were checking up on me yesterday,” Jake said as he thumbed a message.
Damn. I was hoping to get out of this meeting without having to speak to him again. “Excuse me?”
He looked up from his screen. “Yesterday. The brunch. I heard you were asking about me.”
Note to self: Never tell Rita anything I don’t want repeated. “Yes. I was curious what sort of man makes a habit of fondling strange women’s feet.”
Could that actually be a blush on his face, or were his cheeks pink from the shifting sun?
“I’ve already apologized. It’s not my fault you have a twin running around the city telling men she just met that she hasn’t had sex in a year and wants to sleep with them.”
“Almost a year,” I was about to say but stopped myself in time. I’d have no way of knowing what my twin had said. “You’re right. It’s not your fault. And I apologize for being rude to you on Saturday. Truce?”
His eyes widened and he cracked a smile. Contrary to popular belief among testosterone-charged attorneys, arguing with your opponent isn’t always the best strategy. Sometimes agreeing, or pretending to agree, is more productive. It can cause your opponent to let his guard down, which gives you the edge.
He set his phone on the table. “I didn’t know we were fighting.”
“We’re not. But we’re going to be working together now, so I was hoping we could be friends.” At least don’t undercut me to our mutual client.
He leaned in and raised one eyebrow as he gave me his gorgeous smile. “Just friends?”
The cocky bastard. He knew how attractive he was. And despite my lack of interest, I was not immune to his charm. It had been almost a year, after all. But I maintained my professional demeanor. “Yes, Jake. I don’t date people I work with.”
“Don’t date? Is that the same as don’t sleep with?”
The man was incorrigible. “I’m a woman, Jake. Sex and dating are synonymous.”
“Then how fortuitous for us both that I have the same policy.”
Chapter 18
Jake
Samantha Haller, smart, sexy, ballbuster divorce lawyer, was flirting with me. Sure, she’d given him the “just friends” line. But in his experience, that often meant, “I want to be chased.” It had been a while since Jake had had to chase a woman. It might be fun for a change.
“How was your weekend?” Caroline asked as he strode past her desk.
“Good,” he said automatically as he tossed his jacket onto his couch.
“And was I right?” she asked, following him into his office. “Did something happen?”
It took him a moment to figure out what she was referring to. He’d forgotten about her psychic warning. Then he thought of Samantha Haller and smiled. “You could say that.”
Caroline smiled too. “From your expression, I assume it was a good something and not a bad something.”
Was Samantha a good something? He wasn’t sure yet. He was looking forward to sleeping with her; that was a positive. But despite this morning’s apology, he knew she’d be high maintenance, which was definitely a negative. Conclusion: It could go either way. “I’m not sure. Why don’t you look into your crystal ball and tell me.”
Caroline frowned at him and he felt like a jerk. He knew she took the whole psychic thing seriously even if he didn’t. “Sorry. That’s what happens when I start my day by having breakfast with a lawyer.”
“You didn’t like her?” Caroline asked. “She came highly recommended, but I can call around and get some other names if you want.”
“No,” Jake answered a little too quickly. “Selena liked her and that’s what matters,” he continued, hoping to head off any budding suspicion. “She’s supposed to be sending over a retainer agreement. Please let me know when it arrives.”
“Sure, I’ll keep an eye out for it and forward it to George as soon as it gets here.”
Their usual protocol. George was MM&J’s in-house counsel. He handled all the routine legal matters for their clients. “Send a copy to George, but I want to see it as well.”
She opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again. “Will do,” she said and returned to her desk.
Jake was glad she hadn’t asked why he wanted to see the retainer agreement since he had no answer for her. It wasn’t something he normally reviewed. He just knew he wanted to see Samantha again.
Chapter 19
Samantha
Megan wasn’t at her desk when I arrived, which was a relief. I needed time to decompress after my breakfast meeting. The Selena part had gone well. She might need some hand-holding, but she was sweet, and there were no children to fight over or accusations of abuse, so the divorce should be a straightforward division of assets. Jake, on the other hand, was a wild card.
It was clear by that crack he’d made that he still had sex on the brain. And if I was being honest with myself, so did I. Not that I couldn’t bury my urges—I’d been doing it for years. The problem was I didn’t want to. He was soooo sexy. And those hands. God, I wanted those hands on me. I wanted those lips on me. I wanted—
“Samantha, you’re here!”
I opened my eyes and nearly fell out of my chair. “Of course I’m here,” I said, sitting up straight and tugging the wrinkles out of my blouse. My nipples had gotten hard from all the fantasizing, but thankfully my jacket hid them. Get a grip, Samantha!
“Sorry,” Megan said, “I didn’t see you come in. Are you feeling okay? Your face is all red.”
“Fine,” I said, trying to push all thoughts of Jake and his strong, sexy hands from my mind. “The elevator was out and I had to take the stairs.”
“Really? I just took it up from the lobby and it was running fine.”
That was the problem with lying—it was so easy to get caught. “Only one was out,” I said, pretending to be engrossed in a motion for counsel’s fees sitting at the top of a stack of files on my desk, “but I didn’t feel
like waiting for the other. How was your weekend?”
“Great.” She gave me the highlights, then asked about the wedding, and I did the same, omitting any mention of Jake.
“And the meeting this morning?” she asked.
I focused my brain on Selena. She was the client, after all. “It went well. She wants to hire me, so please send her a retainer agreement. It should go to her manager, Jake Jensen.”
“I’ll get it to him this afternoon. Any special message or just the standard cover letter?”
I considered something flirty, then immediately dismissed the idea. “Standard’s fine, thanks.”
“You’ve got it bad,” Jenna said over pizza and wine that night. She’d come over to help me finish packing up Whitney’s room. Whitney was supposed to have done it herself before she and Michael left for their honeymoon. But when she’d called from the airport and asked if I’d do her this one last favor (famous last words!), being the pushover I am, at least with her, I’d acquiesced. Then I’d called Jenna and asked her to help, and being the pushover she is, at least with me, she’d said yes too.
It turned out to be an easy project. I’d already labeled all of Whitney’s boxes and re-organized her piles the week before because watching her dump random items into unmarked containers had given me hives. So all Jenna and I had to do was sort, stack and fold the remains of her closet. We were finished in an hour, then Jenna ordered the pizza and I uncorked a bottle of red wine.
“I don’t have it bad,” I said between sips of cabernet. “I just haven’t had sex in so long I’m getting a little randy.”
Jenna grabbed another slice of pepperoni off my half of the pizza and shoved it into her mouth. “That too. But that doesn’t mean you don’t want Jake.”
“I don’t want him.”
She gave me the hairy eyeball while sucking the grease off her fingers.
“Okay, maybe I do. But I’m not going to have him. At least not while I’m representing Selena Chase.” When I’d told Jake I didn’t date people I worked with, that was true. I would never jeopardize my job by sleeping with a co-worker; and the Rules of Professional Conduct forbade sleeping with a client.
“Why not?”
“Because he’s her manager and I’m her lawyer.” Or I would be once she signed the retainer agreement.
“So? It’s not like you work at the same company. You just share a client. And only temporarily. Once she’s divorced, she won’t be your client anymore, right?”
I pulled another slice of pizza out of the box. “Unless she wants to hire me for some other matter.”
“Like what? You’re a divorce lawyer.”
“Family law attorney,” I corrected through a mouthful of pizza. I didn’t only work on divorce cases, although that was ninety percent of my business. I’d actually become a family law attorney because I wanted to help kids.
Jenna rolled her eyes at me.
“But yes, in all likelihood, once her divorce is final, she would no longer be my client.”
Jenna held up her now-empty wineglass. “I rest my case.”
“What case?”
“The case of why you should end this ridiculous self-imposed celibacy and sleep with Jake.”
I emptied the remainder of the wine into each of our glasses. “Hardly self-imposed.” It’s not like I chose not to have sex for eleven months. I hadn’t met anyone I wanted to have sex with.
“Yes, self-imposed. I’ve offered to fix you up with Tanner’s friends a dozen times. And Roderick’s before that.”
I laughed at the notion of me sleeping with any of Tanner’s friends. Some of them weren’t even old enough to legally drink. And Roderick, her previous crush, was even younger. “Forgive me if I’m not looking for a boy toy.”
“Just because they’re a little younger and less educated than you are—”
“I’m thirty-two; they’re a lot younger. And I’m not going to sleep with someone I can’t even have a conversation with.” Chats with Tanner and Roderick usually revolved around binge drinking, sex, and occasionally sports, with a lot of “whatsup,” “yo, dude,” and “fuckin’ A, man” sprinkled in between.
“Stop being such a snob! What you want is someone who adores you and is good in bed.”
“Can’t I have that and intelligent conversation too?”
“If you can find it, sure, but in the meantime, take what you can get!”
Chapter 20
Jake
Jake read the sentence three times, and he still had no idea what it meant. Damn lawyers. They’re the only ones who can understand these things. He punched George Ramos’s extension into the phone.
“Have you had a chance to look at this retainer agreement yet?” Jake asked.
He heard papers shuffling in the background. “Um, no, not yet. I just got it this afternoon. Is it a priority?”
“Yes,” Jake said and hung up. He wasn’t usually that brusque. He just knew that George was going to start asking questions he didn’t want to answer—like why Selena Chase’s divorce attorney’s retainer agreement was a priority when he was in the middle of negotiating two high-profile endorsement deals for much bigger clients. Better to let George think him rude than crazy.
Fifteen minutes later George appeared in his office, retainer agreement in hand. “It’s pretty standard stuff, Jake.”
“So it’s okay to sign as is?” Jake asked.
“Well, I’d want a couple of small changes.”
“Such as?”
George quickly flipped through the pages. “For starters I’d want a cap on the fees. After she burns through the retainer, I’d want her to come back to us for approval before incurring more charges, at least over a certain dollar amount.”
Jake pulled out a pad and started jotting down notes. “Is that it?”
“I’d also want her to get our approval before she engages any outside consultants. She’ll probably need to hire a forensic accountant, but we should be involved in that decision.”
Jake wrote that down too. “Anything else?”
“No, the rest is all language changes. Nothing you need to be concerned about.”
Jake held out his hand. “I’d like to take a look.”
George tightened his grip on the document. “It’s minor stuff, Jake. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“I know, George. That’s not what this is about. I have complete confidence in your abilities.”
“Then what is it?”
Jake spouted the first lie that popped into his head. “The partners are considering sending the smaller stuff like this to outside counsel. They’re concerned it’s pulling your focus off the big deals.”
“That’s ridiculous. I can easily handle—”
Goddamn recession. It had made everyone paranoid about losing their job. “George, I’m on your side. I know you can handle this and much more with both eyes closed and one hand tied behind your back. But for right now, it’d be better if you let me take this off your plate.”
George relaxed his shoulders. “If you’re sure you don’t mind?”
“Not in the least,” Jake said and held out his hand again.
George rolled the papers into a cylinder, which he held at his side. “My wife can’t even read my chicken scratch. I’ll type up a redline for you, then you can just forward it to her.”
“Perfect.” Jake had no interest in haggling with Samantha. He just needed a legitimate excuse to talk to her again that didn’t involve asking her on a date.
Chapter 21
Samantha
I was only half listening to opposing counsel’s voice on the phone when the instant message popped up on my computer screen: Jake Jensen line 2.
That was fast. It was only Tuesday—barely twenty-four hours since we’d sent him the retainer agreement. Return, I typed back. Opposing counsel didn’t sound like he’d be finished pontificating any time soon. Plus, I didn’t want to seem too eager.
“Playing hard to get?” Jake asked
when I returned his call at the end of the day.
Was I that obvious? “I do have other clients, Jake. And I have to go to court sometimes.” I didn’t today, but he didn’t need to know that. “And—”
“Hey, I was kidding. Why so uptight?”
“I’m not uptight.” Was I uptight?
“Okay, you’re not uptight and you’re not playing hard to get. You’re just biting my head off for no reason.”
I laughed. He was right about that. “Sorry, long day. What can I do for you, Mr. Jensen?”
“Well, for starters you can call me Jake.”
“What can I do for you, Jake?”
“I need you to make some changes to your retainer agreement.”
My whole body sagged. I guess I’d been hoping this was a personal call. Although there was no reason it should be. I’d made it very clear to him that I wasn’t interested in a date. “Sure, just have your lawyer send them to me. Do you need my email address?”
“Actually, I thought we could handle this ourselves. Our in-house counsel’s in the middle of some huge deals right now, and I don’t want to have to pull him off those for something like this.”
Plausible? Yes. Likely? No. But I decided not to question it. “No problem. Did you want to go through it over the phone?”
“Actually, I’m more of an in-person guy. I prefer face-to-face negotiations.”