by Tilly Pope
Snow Day
An Enemies to Lovers Romance
Tilly Pope
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Also by Tilly Pope
About the Author
Copyright © 2019 by Tilly Pope
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
About Snow Day
Sage
When I walk into Finn's office,
I'm not going to let the tall, handsome prosecutor get to me.
Nope. I won't do it.
I'm the best defense attorney in New York City and I have a reputation to uphold.
Smart. Savvy. And I don't back down.
Not even for Finn Byrne and his tight abs and gorgeous butt.
Finn
Sage Kingston.
Beautiful. Strong. Fearless.
Maybe even a little psycho.
But she's sexy as hell and I get to spend the day with her going over case files.
What a way to spend the holiday.
She thinks she can tell me no.
But I always get what I want.
And the blizzard that just hit?
Well, let's just say SCORE for me and Mother Nature.
Stalk Tilly
Click here to stalk Tilly Pope on Facebook!
Join Tilly’s VIP reader group Tilly’s SHOTT Lovers!
Come see Tilly at www.tillypope.com!
Join Tilly’s my mailing list and get a FREE book!
Free Book Offer
Want a free book? Click HERE and see just how much trouble Peyton gets into with her Bossy Billionaire!
For all my super yummy over the top readers!
Who’s your daddy?
1
Sage
Who in the hell schedules a trial the day after the New Year? A judge with a mile-wide sadistic streak, that’s who. It was the twentieth of December, a time when most normal people, people like me, should strap on thick fur lines gloves with matching hats along with a pair of beloved ice skates, getting ready to do a few laps at Rockefeller Center. Hell, I should indulge in Christmas shopping, rewarding myself for a year of kick ass work.
Eight trials all resulting in acquittals and at least a dozen more where I got charges dropped altogether, which is another reason I’m itching to put a dent in my year-end bonus. I earned the hell out of this bonus, every damn dime of it with eighteen-hour days, seven-day work weeks, a sex life as nonexistent as the Loch Ness monster and a social life that consisted solely of work functions. Fundraisers, dinners, balls, galas and any other reason to get dressed up and eat rubber chicken.
I hate rubber chicken. In fact, I hate rubber duck, rubber Cornish hens, rubber steak and rubber salmon as well. But it’s all part of the job and I didn’t become the best damn criminal defense attorney in all of Manhattan to give up over something as silly as a poorly cooked meal.
Besides, it isn’t like I cook any better. In fact, I’m worse. A lot worse. Another perk of being a well-paid attorney is having gourmet meals delivered to my house or office by a service or made by a private chef.
Today I’m not feeling any of those perks. No, with the snow and rain blend that started about five minutes ago, I feel like everyone else. Basic. Normal. Regular. Hell, on my worst days, I’m none of that, but today, I am.
And it fucking sucks.
I’m still the best criminal defense attorney in the city, only now, I’m also one of thousands of worker bees trudging through shitty weather to get to work instead of out enjoying the magic that is New York City at Christmastime. And to make the crap sandwich even more craptastic, I have to meet up with the last person in this whole damn city I want to work with.
Finn Byrne.
He’s as annoying as he’s gorgeous, and the squeaky clean prosecutor is opposing counsel in my upcoming trial. On January second. Yep, my mood has gone from sour to shitty since I found out—just over an hour ago—that Finn has been assigned to my case. Not that I worry about going up against Finn in court, I don’t. There’s nothing I need to worry about. He’s the one who needs to worry since I beat him in ten of the fifteen cases we’ve gone head to head on, and you could tack on another thirteen for cases where he was second chair for the other team.
Still, if I had known sooner that it’s Finn I’m meeting with, I’d have worked a little harder on my appearance. Not that I want to impress him, that’s the last thing on my mind. But Finn has a way of getting under my skin and the best way to handle him is with proper armor that consists of a tailored to death designer suit, killer heels and impeccable hair and makeup.
I don’t look bad, though. A quick look at my reflection in a passing window tells me everything is right where it’s supposed to be. Thick wavy brown hair hangs around my shoulders as the snowflakes melt into it, thankfully my off-white cashmere coat keeps the rest of me from freezing to death, because underneath I have on a pair of my favorite True Blue jeans that hug my curves in all the right places and a light blue blouse that makes my bright blue eyes pop. Or maybe it’s the brown eyeliner I picked up on my last shopping trip. Either way, I look good. Not enough to steel myself against Finn, but enough.
Damn, the snowfall is coming down with more force and anger with every passing block, making me wish I had the cabbie drop me off in front of the courthouse instead of stopping for a latte. But, this latte is the only thing that’ll keep me from acting like a raging bitch for the rest of the day, which is a real possibility with Prosecutor Byrne around.
The wind whips so hard as I turn onto the street where the courthouse is, white and stone and gleaming even in the gloomy day. The cold air feels like a thousand tiny needles on my cheeks and it’s just the jolt of energy I need to bolster myself. Climbing the stairs with a renewed sense of energy and don’t fuck with me attitude, I flash a smile at the elderly guard as he holds the door open for me. “Thanks, Lyle.”
“Anytime, Miss. Too bad you had to come out in this mess.” He shakes his head but I don’t miss the appreciation in his eyes, or the way his gaze lingers a little too long on my chest when I take off my coat.
“Justice never sleeps, or maybe that’s just me.” We share a laugh and as soon as I get the all clear from security, I put my coat back on and step into the elevator. I take a long deep breath before pressing the button that will take me to the office of the prosecutor. I take another deep breath and then another, promising to keep my cool no matter what Finn says or how much he tries to get under my skin. If I don’t take the bait, then I won’t be stuck with him for hours on end, and I just might make it home before the cabs stop running and I have to get on the damn subway.
I won’t let you get to me, Finn Byrne. I won’t.
2
Finn
Is there anything better than New York City during the holidays? Not if you ask me. The snow is falling in light but steady flakes that seem to grow bigger with every passing hour. And a quick look to the street below, covered in white, says it won’t be stopping anytime soon, which means I need to get everything in order for my upcoming meeting.
Sage Kingston.
My boss called late last night to assign me the Todd Brinkley case, which is why I’m spending this morning—and afternoon—in my office. My empty office because everyone else is off enjoying the weekend, picking up late Christma
s gifts on Fifth Avenue, skating at Rockefeller or maybe even heading to JFK to take a flight home. Or some place warm. Truth be told, I prefer an empty office because I can get a lot of work done without constant interruptions.
Ever since New York Mag published another damn list of the city’s most eligible bachelors, crowning me the most eligible, for the third year in a row, I can’t get a moment of peace. They bring me tiaras, beauty pageant sashes, black books and the names and numbers of every eligible woman they know. All of them. It’s annoying.
I love my job, it’s fulfilling and satisfying to see so many victims get justice, to see the relief it brings to them. The way it allows them to get on with their lives rather than get bogged down in the past.
And putting bad people in jail doesn’t hurt one bit. It makes it easy to sleep at night, something I always wonder about people like Sage. Does she have any qualms about the men and women she defends? Does she even care that her guilty clients have broken the law? Hurt other people or fleeced them out of money?
It’s clear she doesn’t care because watching Ms. Kingston in court is a sight to behold, and not just because of her physical beauty. No, she has an impressive legal mind to go with those piercing blue eyes and mile long legs. She probably has a gorgeous smile too, not that I’ve ever seen it.
Sage Kingston is the one woman in the city of New York completely immune to my charms.
The door flies open and smacks against the wall, pulling me to my feet in a defensive position. Sometimes angry family members show up to highlight their displeasure and I have to call security to haul them out. Today’s visitor is angry or at the very least unhappy, but it’s her default position so I choose to not let it bother me. “Sage. So good of you to show up.”
She glares at me, those blue eyes in such tiny slits they might as well be black. “Have you looked outside recently?”
I nod and smile. “I have. It’s beautiful out, isn’t it?”
She lets out a low growl that is somehow sexy and adorable, a fact I choose to keep to myself for the sake of keeping the peace. “No, it’s not beautiful. It’s gross, gray, cold and wet. It’s both snowing and raining outside.”
I lean over and take another look out the window, squinting my eyes to catch the details on the ground below. Sure enough, the snow on the ground is accumulating quickly but the mix with the rain makes it dirty and slushy. It doesn’t dim the beauty in my opinion but Sage’s scowl says otherwise. “You’re inside now, that’s good news. Ready to get to work?”
She sends me a crisp nod and takes off her coat, shocking the hell out of me. In all the years I’ve known Sage, I’ve never seen her in anything but a power suit. Pants, dress or skirt, it doesn’t matter. She always looks perfect. Perfect hair. Perfect clothes. Perfect, beautiful face, minus the scowl she wears. “I hope I didn’t come all this way for you to toss a plea deal at me.”
“In your dreams,” I shoot back. Riling her up is always a good time.
She scoffs and tosses her coat on the nearest chair, running long fingers through her thick chocolate waves, drawing my gaze to the flash of red on her fingertips. Red polish. “My dreams are nowhere near that boring. Says a lot about you though.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Yeah, what?”
“That you lack imagination, for starters.” Her dark brows arch, challenging me.
The laugh bursts from me before I can stop it so I just go with it, enjoying the bewildered look on Sage’s face. “If you had any idea what my imagination is doing right now, you’d be blushing like a schoolgirl.” I let my words linger in the air for a moment until the apples of her cheeks take on a telltale blush. “And that’s just for starters.”
Her cheeks are pink but she’s trying hard to suppress any reaction to my words, which only encourages me. “I highly doubt that.” She pulls out the chair across from my desk and drops down in it, doing her best to be unappealing. Angry.
“Maybe it’s you who lacks imagination then. That’s understandable given how much you work.”
She bristles, but it’s subdued because she refuses to show how much I’m getting to her. “Excuse me?”
“It’s fine, Sage. Some people have a hard time finding a work life balance, it’s nothing to be ashamed of, really.” I pick up a random file and tap it against my desk until the papers are lined up and even. “Ready to dig through all this,” I ask and motion towards the stack of boxes in the corner.
Sage glares again, just in case I’m unclear on her unhappiness. “It’s customary to make copies and drop it off with opposing counsel.”
“Yeah, well, it’s also customary to give notice before you run off to study art in Italy, but that’s what Steve did so here we are.” It’s bad enough that we’re both working when winter is coming out in full effect outside the window, but I refuse to let Sage ruin my holiday spirit. “You want to complain some more or dig through this so we can get out of here?”
“I don’t complain.”
“Fine. Would you like to continue to point out the things that bother you in excruciating detail or shall we get to discovery?” We have hours of work ahead of us if those boxes are filled with relevant files, maybe even days.
Sage turns to the stack of boxes near the window and sighs before she turns back to me with a shrug. “I’d rather work. But still, I don’t complain. Ever.”
I nod, letting her win this first of many arguments we’ll have this afternoon. Pacing is important when it comes to marathons and if the past has taught me anything, it’s that I need to pace myself. “Whatever you say, Counselor.”
The growl she lets out hits me right behind the zipper and I grin in her direction. Sage may be an uptight workaholic, not to mention one of the best damn lawyers I’ve ever had the pleasure of losing to, she’s also breathtakingly gorgeous. “That’s more like it.”
“Don’t get used to it,” I tell her with a smile that earns me another glare, but I don’t mind that glare. In fact, I’m starting to like it.
Maybe even look forward to it.
3
Sage
“That was the last folder.” Finn’s hazel eyes meet mine for a long, tense moment. Is it heat or is he as tired as I am of being cooped up in his office for the past four and a half hours? “We’re done.” His smile comes, bright and genuine.
“Finally,” I groan and stand from my spot on the floor, extending my arms in the air to stretch my tight muscles. “I thought we’d be here through Christmas.”
Finn snorts and shakes his head, smiling as if he’s amused by me which is ironic, I don’t amuse people. They amuse me. Especially Finn with his boy next door good looks, which are attractive if you like the slightly mussed chestnut hair and hazel eyes look, which I don’t. “No holiday plans, then?”
My gaze narrows in his direction. Do I detect a tone? “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs and stands, broad shoulders lifting in the air before falling in a casual shrug. “Don’t get worked up Sage, it was just a question.”
“No holiday plans, then?” My mocking tone only seems to amuse him more. “It was not just a damn question and you know it. What did you mean by it?”
Finn sighs and rakes a hand through his thick hair and blows out a frustrated breath. “I only meant that if you had holiday plans, you’d be vocal about needing to get out of here.”
I smile at his attempt at diplomacy and arch a brow. “Careful Finn, you sound like a man planning to run for office.” I’ll never tell Finn, but he’d be a good politician because he’s honest—mostly—and genuinely seems to give a damn about people.
“I just don’t see the need to say exactly what’s on my mind every second of the day, Sage.”
Ouch. If I had any feelings that would’ve hurt them a little. “I find it easier so everyone knows where I stand.”
“Believe me, we all do.”
His tone doesn’t sit well with me but I refuse to take the bait and instead turn to the window. All I
can see is my reflection, hair disheveled from running my fingers through it too many times over the past few hours and tired eyes. And angry. But a step closer and I can see more…nothingness. “Finn?”
He sighs. “Fine, I shouldn’t have said that. I just figured you could take as much as you dish out.”
I turn at his words, another frown on my face. “I can take it just fine.” His shrug says he doesn’t believe me and at the moment that isn’t my primary concern. “Have you looked outside recently?”
“You can’t see much from here anyway,” he says but his gaze slides past my shoulder and he comes closer, so much closer his shoulder brushes against mine. And he smells amazing. “Shit.” He leans in a little more and I can see the exact moment his eyes take it all in. Finn whistles and shakes his head. “Guess that blizzard made a turn somewhere along the way.”
“Blizzard? You’re kidding.”
“I don’t kid about the weather, Sage.”
Of course he doesn’t. “Is there anything you kid about, Finn?”
“Plenty,” he says, easily. “Just not the weather.”
I pull out my phone, ignoring the list of things Finn Byrne jokes about. “Dammit. You knew there was a possibility of a blizzard and you didn’t say anything? What in the hell, Finn?”
“I didn’t realize it was my responsibility to inform you about the weather.” He blinks slowly, unfairly long lashes practically fan his sharp cheekbones.
Damn, he’s right. And I hate when he’s right. This is my fault. Well, mine along with Mother Nature who decided to dump a ton of snow on the city while I’m stuck inside. Working. “There are no cars on the road. Not one cab.” I turn to Finn, distress oozing through my veins.